11 December 2015

Gaudete Sunday!

Readings Here

So who is this crazy guy that speaks of one mightier than he?  What does he mean by baptizing with fire and the Holy Spirit?  Do you think he may be on something?  Maybe we should find out and see if he's worth paying attention to...
Well folks, we're getting down to the wire.  Soon and very soon, we are going to see our King!  Yep, soon and very soon, those credit card bills will be coming in and our eyes will fill, not with tears of joy, but tears of realization of just how much we may have spent.  That being said, this next Sunday, is the third Sunday of Advent, and in particular, it's one of two Sundays in which the Church wears Rose, a striking color indeed, and depending on where you get your vestments made, a beautiful color, or a color that resembles the Pepto Bismol bottle  (aaaahhh, such beauty).  Either way, this Sunday is known as Gaudete Sunday and it is a day that reminds to rejoice!  Every Gaudete Sunday, I can hear the echoes of "Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel" and the proclamation "Rejoice!  Rejoice!"  Indeed, we are called upon to rejoice.  We are invited to look at the season around us and recognize that the Light is upon us and we shall no longer live in fear.  We are the people who lived in darkness and we have seen a great light.  This season in particular, I am struck by the power of turning to God's love.  In a world where we hear more and more about radicalized this or radicalized that, Gaudete Sunday and all of Advent is precisely a time for a radicalization of our own.  Now I must explain myself,  by radicalization, I intend the full meaning of the word which stems from its Latin origin radix.  Literally, I am talking about rooting ourselves in the richness of God's love.  I am talking about dusting off all those things that bar us from truly connecting to God and allowing a most intimate connection to flourish.  This Advent, like all Advents, we are invited to honestly clean out our souls and our persons and to make room for the growth that is to take place.  And this is where the Gospel message comes in...  you see, John the Baptizer provoked (and still provokes) a sense of decluttering in our lives.  He looks at us and challenges us to be open to the Holy Spirit.  This means that in our daily lives we are to recognize those things that posses us and so easily prevent the Spirit from moving in us.  We are called to till the soil of our souls and to make fertile our heart for the growth that God wants to see in us.  This is a challenge and can sometimes lead to more profound work in ourselves, but ultimately, we are brought to a place where God is at the core of our being and we are changed for good.  Those who approached John the Baptist approached with a sense of hunger and thirst, and while he was able to quench their needs for the time being, it is Christ who satisfies us and makes us whole.  And so, I rejoice, because even in me, God is at work, and as the Spirit moves and leads me to work, God smiles as God looks at my silliness, and GOd says "you are very good," and I am satisfied and I proclaim "Rejoice! Rejoice!  Oh Israel, for unto me has come, Emmanuel!"  As always, remember that I love you, you are beautiful and you are loved.  Fr. Rick

29 November 2015

1st Advent, 2015

Readings Here

Today is the first Sunday in Advent.  Today, we begin a time of reflection and waiting.  We take the time to prepare to celebrate one of the major Feasts of the Christian life.  Very soon, (but not yet) Christmas will be upon us and the Church will rejoice at the great gift of God Among Us.  But in spite of what the Christmas lights may tell us, Christmas is not yet here.  Instead, today's Gospel takes us to a place that is dark and frightening.  Luke speaks of danger, and violence, of death and destruction, and I, well, I sit here in front of the TV and briefly entertain thoughts of the end of the world!  But as frightening as these thoughts may seem, and as scary as the new may be, there is one phrase in the Gospel that makes me stop and think:  "when these signs begin to happen, 
stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand."  If you stop to think about it, this is a powerful message.  It reminds me that while there may be death and destruction happening all around the world, I am not to cower in the face of these, instead, I am to stand erect and with head held high.  I am to take the stance of someone who has been liberated from the oppression of fear.  And this is the key in today's Gospel, as people of faith, we are not to fear, instead, we are to recognize our dignity as beloved children of God and we are to stand in the light of God's love.  The problem with this, however, is that somehow, somewhere along  the way, we have taken this phrase to mean that we are to become some bad-ass, red, white and blue, gun toting Christian rebel who is ready to burst into a Planned Parenthood clinic and shootem up.  Or at least stand my ground as I let everyone else know how wrong their way of life is.  The reality is far from either or those scenarios, but the root of it is clear.  We are not to arm ourselves and be the militant church that busts doors down for Jesus, instead, we are to be the militant church that embraced the non-violent and non-aggressive love of Christ.  We are to truly take the example of Jesus and the mission of Christ, and love, after all, as Mother Teresa once said, the opposite of love isn't hate, it is fear.  We are not to be fearful people who need to get rid of the competition for the sake of making ourselves feel safe.  Instead, we are to be people of radical love, a love that is deeply rooted in Christ.  There can be no exceptions, because unfortunately, up until now, we've been pretty good at making excuses for our militarized faith.  We are not a faith based on hatred and judgement, and yet, we've managed to bottle Jesus up for our own convenience.  We have relegated God to the Home Goods aisles at our local retail stores and placed next to our fancy boots in our closets.  God is far beyond any material limitation we can place on him, and exactly when we start to believe that we know God's will, is when we should start prayer for guidance from the Holy Spirit and our faith communities.  God is not violent, and God's love does not compel us to violence, ever.  And so we prepare, we enter the journey toward the light recognizing that darkness will never win, because the light and love of God is far greater than fear itself.  I was once told by a priest professor of mine that I was too simplistic, if that is true, so be it.  I just can't believe that the love of God is as complex and convaluted as we so often make it out to be.  For now, blessed Advent.  Know that you are in my prayers.  You are beautiful.  You are loved. and I love you.  As always, Fr. Rick

24 November 2015

I was one of those nine...

Dustin Kensrue- Please Come Home

and so this is Thanksgiving...  yep.  Here we are.   Happy Thanksgiving.

Before I even started preparing for Mass on Thanksgiving, I heard this song.  Remarkably, I was introduced to this piece by a friend with whom I only recently reconnected, and one who surprised me by sharing about his own spiritual journey to God.  I was surprised but also happy.  I can even say that I was emotional to hear him speak of God and God's love, and maybe it was the emotion of his faith journey that made this song very poignant, but then I started to reflection the Gospel for this Thanksgiving.  (Gospel Here) What really struck me about the song and the Gospel passage, is how much my own journey was like that of the nine, or like that of the prodigal son.  More importantly, I was touched by so many people that I have ministered to who have welcomed me.  People who were turned away or made to feel less because of where they had been along their own journey, or people who had somehow come to believe the false expectations set upon them by society (church, family, god, or whatever)  More and more, I came to see the nine who never returned, not as thankless scoundrels, but as people like me, people who had come to believe that if the love of God was on me, maybe it was a fluke.  Or perhaps, they believed that somehow, they had cheated their way to health, by some miscalculation of our All-Knowing God, I had managed to received God's grace and love.  Kinda like when you get a dollar extra at the store.  But instead of returning it (like I know we all do), they decided to play it safe and take what they could get.  Maybe the inheritance of the prodigal was all he thought he could ever attain and that was satisfactory, even if it was only temporary.  Like those nine, I too came to a point in my faith journey where I wasn't sure how I had managed to be graced, especially when I heard the opposite, but with the grace I perceived to have, I tried to squirrel it away and do what I could.  And this brings me to Thanksgiving.  As I reflected on what it means to give thanks, I had to recognize that giving thanks is also recognizing the love of God that calls me from beyond my sin and confusion.  God's voice is loud and clear and instead of condemning me for trying to hoard what little grace I believe i posses, God continuously beckons me and gives to me even more.  Giving thanks is about recognizing that my thanks is about accepting a love that calls me to be my full self.  A love that invites me to spread the Good News, and a love that allows me to love and be as I have been created.  Not a cowering leper, but a person brought up from the ground, from the dirt of sin, into the joy of Love!  This Thanksgiving, I will celebrate with the Prodigal and the one who was healed and I will accept in humility, the voice of God which says to me (and you) "You are beautiful.  You are loved."  I am beautiful. I am loved.  And so are you.  Be blessed and I pray that you have a Happy Thanksgiving.  As always, I love you.  Fr Rick

16 November 2015

Faithful Witness.

This past Friday, there were a series of attacks that caused a lot of death, damage, pain and anger.  The official death toll, thus far, is 129 and many more are still reportedly in critical condition.  Around the world, countless people are struck by these events and by so many others that have taken place in recent memory.  In the midst of all this, we enter a season of reflection and preparation, a season during which we reflect on the coming of Our Savior.  Hopefully, we also take the time to reflect on what this preparation and Advent means to us in the profound ways.  This being said, I feel that I must address the recent attacks and violence in light of Christ the King.  First and foremost, it is import to remember one thing, in Jesus, God took on flesh.  The Almighty God, took on our condition.  He wasn't heralded by the powerful and mighty, but celebrated by the poor and humble.  That being said, (and I speak from a very profound part of my own journey), I believe that now, more than ever, we Christians are being called upon to love.  More than ever, we are called upon to become that whom we receive in the Eucharist.  We are called upon to take on the Christ-call that is shared with us in our Baptism and through the Sacraments and we are to be love in the world.  I once heard someone say that Christ was the human face of God, and that humans were the active presence of Christ.  (or something like that).  Either way, the message was simple, we can no longer stand around and profess our love for God and then leave church and go on living lives that are not deeply rooted and formed by the same love we just professed.  It is a challenge, and sin does a great job of distracting us, but what does it mean to look beyond some silly red cup or some false piety or patriotism?  Christ is the antithesis of all those things that today present themselves as Christian, and yet we cling to an idea of Jesus that is easily made into a blow-mold and lit up at our convenience.  It is a challenge to be Gospel people, or Sacramental people, but the call to holiness is not one that is easily answered, it takes true effort to be able to become Saints and to stand as witnesses of Him who Himself is THE Faithful Witness.  Yes, the violence may not cease immediately by our efforts in love, but to answer violence with more violence, or even worse, to answer violence with fear, will only continue the seemingly endless cycles of destruction that we have witnessed.  As challenging as this may be, perhaps our call as Christians is not to fight radical Islam, or even to convert more Christians, perhaps our call is to convert ourselves, to walk away from that which most distracts me from love and to refocus on Him who offered Himself for each one of us.  Perhaps our call is not to see how many points we gain by making "new Christians," but to see how much more I can develop my relationship with God.  And perhaps more importantly (and this is especially true for me), our call is to look right next to us and see those who stand with us even as they recognize the special brand of crazy that we may carry.  Perhaps that is the one thing we need to do most, to remind ourselves of the intense love of GOd as we look to our rights and to our lefts, not in fear, but in love, and recognize those friends and family that stand by us and love us, those who in their own way, are the loving presence of God.  Maybe then, as we look into each other's eyes, we can celebrate the coming of God who's love is witnessed not in the grand Christmas displays, but in the hugs and smiles that are shared among friends and family.  In the end, it's not difficult, because as annoying as our crazy uncles may be, the somehow manage to bring joy and love into our lives, even if we can only take it in doses of one day a year.  And so, know that you are beautiful and that you are loved and that together, we will make this world better, one smile at a time.  Peace to you.  Fr Rick

13 November 2015

A Christian at thought

Greetings to you once again, and peace to you.  This entry is coming to you from the recesses of my mind, and as a product of my thought and prayer.  As you may, or may not know, I recently moved back to Midland, Texas.  Thus far, I have been here 12 days, and may I  say, they have certainly been interesting.  On my very first day, as I was waiting to register my car, I was approached by someone who immediately asked me whether or not I should be called Fr. Rick anymore.  To be honest, I was caught off guard, but I responded the best that I could and shared as much of my story as that person was willing to listen.  (Don't worry, I won't bore you with that again.)  That same day, I encountered another person who immediately told me that she thought I had "left."  After assuring her that I was really here, she made awkward small talk and (much to my relief) eventually scurried off.  Yes, she scurried.  I have had other encounters of the sort since my arrival in Midland, and while some people are more political about my situation, others are outright rude or even mean, especially those who are the holiest.  They seem to carry about them a particular kind of bitterness that is more reminiscent of the bitter wine that Jesus drank than the joyful gifts He gives us in the Eucharist.  That train of thought well under way, it then made a stop at a new station that has recently popped up.  The "Starbucks War on Christmas (SWC)" Station.  Or as I like to call it, the "I Don't Like Starbucks but Went There Anyway To See The Famous Red Cups" Station.  The name is a little longer, but well worth the visit.  Either way, I saw the original video (rant) that was put out about the SWC and more than anything, it riled me up, and not for the reasons I expected.  (and here... another caveat)  Since my whole ordeal with the Oblates and their treatment of my priesthood, I have aligned myself with the Old Catholic Confederation of the United States.  It is a part of the Old Catholic Church  and is a ministerial entity in its own rite.  I have chosen to do this because of all things, my call to ministry was never and has never been in question.  This aside, as I was sharing with a friend, my dream of starting some type of ministry here in Midland, I was quickly put down and told to conform to the One True Church.  To the old me, (before the trouble with the Oblates) I would have completely agreed, but I more than anything bear witness to the cruelty that we humans can inflict on each other in the name of God.  If this happened to me, a priest who (I believe) was pretty darn good, what else have the people of God had to endure?
Finally, this brings me back to my original thought, why are we as Christians, so ready to mask our bigotry with Christ?  How is it that Christ has become a marketable creation that can so easily be erased from a corporate holiday gimmick? and Why do we so easily believe that a war is being set against Christians, when it is we who so readily attack and destroy those things that we don't believe fit the context of Christ and His Church? and finally, How is it that we make ourselves out to be martyrs when in reality all we are doing is speaking out about things that we believe we are entitled to or demanding our own comfort?  These questions have all crossed my mind, and while there are only answers that I can provide and accept for myself, I believe they are questions that we must ask.  Why not be open to the will of God as it is made real in my life, as opposed to limiting God by placing God in a box of my own creation?  Why not expand my call to love so that it fits that of Christ? and most importantly, Why not allow myself to love me as God loves me?  This last one is perhaps the most important limitation that we so easily place on ourselves, and as I have come to believe, we are so ready to hate and make things difficult for others, because we have no love for ourselves.  If there is anything I learned this past year, it was to love myself.  To accept myself as I am and to recognize that God's love is out poured upon me not matter what, and as for those extra pounds, more room for God's love!   So it all comes to this, perhaps instead of worrying about a War on Christmas, maybe we should worry about the wars we wage upon ourselves.  Instead of making noise about whether or not Starbucks places snowflakes on their cups (not a Christian symbol) we should make noise about the love of God as it is gifted to me, and to you, and to every single person.  Instead of complaining about "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas," maybe we should recognize the inherent beauty that is bestowed on us by God and say "You are beautiful." and "You are loved."  Maybe, (and yes, this is very idealistic) then we can begin to shift the negative feelings around this time to feelings of true joy and peace as we recognize that each of us, whether Christian or not, straight or gay, fat or skinny, is truly BEAUTIFUL and truly LOVED by God who sees not our weight, but our hearts.  Thank you for allowing me this reflection.  Be at peace and be happy, because you are beautiful, and you are loved.  Fr. Rick

23 September 2015

Ramblings, journeys, and Knowing God: Su Santidad, el Papa.

Ramblings, journeys, and Knowing God: Su Santidad, el Papa.: Ok. Ok.  First of all, sorry that I've taken so long to write anything.  The reality is that I have had a complex mixture of emotions an...

Su Santidad, el Papa.

Ok. Ok.  First of all, sorry that I've taken so long to write anything.  The reality is that I have had a complex mixture of emotions and thoughts that have lead me to be in silent reflection.  First thing first.  Habemus Papem, in the U.S.  It certainly has been an interesting few hours, and to top it off, the Pope blew off a bunch of hoity toity Congress men and women to have lunch with the homeless of DC.  Impressive.  Point number two...  it's nice, but what does it really mean?  Everyone seems to making a big fuss over the crazy things Francis is doing that other Popes would never have done.  I mean come on, homeless over Congress?  I must admit, that while I am happy to see that Pope Francis is a very different person from previous Popes, I am challenged by my own skepticism.  Pardon me for saying this, but please remember, I'm a guy who very naively gave himself up to a system that eventually gave him a resignation date and a note to vacate the premises.  That aside, yes, there is a radically different pace that Francis has chosen to take, and I believe that it is born of a sincere heart, one that has experienced mercy.  At the same time, however, I want to yell out that the mercy Francis has experienced is one that was Church sanctioned.  What I mean by this is that a Jorge Bergoglio who would have acted beyond the parameters of the instituted church (I mean the political, backstage church) would have found himself beyond the merciful grasp of the Church's definition of mercy.  Perhaps I'm just bitter or venting, but while there is great joy that Pope Francis is offering mercy and love to so many, I myself am just beyond the grasp of that mercy.  You know, even if I were to go back to my superiors to plead for a return, IF they accepted me, I would never be able to serve as a priest again.  IF I were welcomed  back, I would be relegated to the position of Brother.  A unique vocation all its own, and yet a punishment for me.  Ok, venting aside, as I have taken to silence to reflect on the Pope, mercy and so much more, I am brought to a point where I do agree with Pope Francis,  and that would have to be that at a very profound (almost simplistic) level, Love is what beckons us to serve, and what calls us to act.  As I sit and read about the Pope, I am reminded that in his very public manner, he is acting from the very experience of love.  He, Francis, is personifying the action of Love as Christ calls us to.  Furthermore, as the readings tell us this next Sunday, we are to love above all else.  As St. Paul says, love is what lasts.  Love is what calls us to live and eventually, if we allow ourselves to truly be children of God, we find that love compels us to act out of an authentic sense of knowing Christ, and notice, I don't mean using Christ as our own puppet or lucky charm, but truly Christ as a model of authentic living.  And so, we see this jolly Pope celebrate life as he blesses children from his Jeep Wrangler Popemobile, and we celebrate, not because the Pope is here, but because in some way, we are reminded that sometimes love is just that simple.  No frills, just love.  No froofiness, just Love.  As always, thank you for your time, and know that I love you.  Peace to you.  Fr. Rick

28 August 2015

28 August, Feast of St. Augustine

Greetings.  Before I commence, I must be absolutely clear... I didn't really like St. Augustine (or for purposes of laziness, Gus)  Aside from the fact that I always felt that he had had all the fun in his life and then left us his theology which denied our own "having fun," I always felt that had I been at his side, I probably would've taken him out for a drink, or at least told him to take a chill pill.  Needless to say, I always felt a bit of remorse for Monica (Gus' mom) and felt that her Feast Day was always merited, August 27th.  I mean, imagine that poor woman having to put up with her mopey son.  Or not.  Maybe he became the way he was because of her, either way, I digress.  The reality is that for the first time in a long time, some of Gus' life and words have resounded deep in my heart.  The part that has especially shaken me is his beautiful realization:  "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!  You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you.  In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.  You were with me, but I was not with you."  For many reasons, these words have caused something within me to take leave of my daily routine and look once again toward the One in whom I had found my life.  I did.  I stopped, I reflected, I listened and I turned to God with the humility of a person who had thought himself in no need of the divine.  Much to my surprise, however, I did not encounter a god whose only vision was of me behaving badly (or unworthily of ministry), instead, I found that God was there, God had been there all along and not as a condemning judge who so readily declared me unworthy of His time, but a loving Creator who understood the paths I had taken and why I had taken them.  There, as I stood before the loving face of God, for the first time I saw God in a very different way, for the first time, I stood before the awesome love of God and realized, late have I loved thee...  For the first time, I came to understand in a real way, not the scientific theological statement which had been declared by Gus, but the profound emotional realization of a person who had found true LOVE!  I too have been humbled by the ever present and ever patient love of God, and now have a better understanding of how Gus must have felt.  Grant it, he left a worldly life and took on a life of holiness, whereas I had holiness all along, left it and have come to appreciate that once again.  Slightly different, but true nonetheless.  (If you're still with me and aren't scratching your head in confusion, kudos.  If I've lost you and you have no clue what I'm rambling about, my sincerest apologies.)    As I reflect on Gus for his Feast, I see for the first time in my life, not a guilt-ridden man who had chosen to inflict the church with chastity and penance, but a man who gave every bit of himself to the One True Love unlike anything else he had ever experienced.  And to some extent, that is what we celebrate, what I celebrate on Gus' Feast this year, the witness of a big brother who so radically and profoundly discovered what he had longed to know through so many other things that were created but were not the Creator.  We celebrate a love so profound and transcendent, that it accompanies us even in our darkest hour, but which does not impose itself on us.  We celebrate the face of God coming in to clarity, not just in the Sacraments and those things holy, but in our very being.  Today, Gus is that invitation to live a life so deeply rooted in Love that we quiver at the thought of never having known such love.  Gus wasn't about making everyone bitter, or making young seminarians do extra hours of homework, he was about witnessing to the beautiful love which he had discovered (according to him) so late in life.  It was as if he was telling us to take the path of Love and to know Love instead of having to waste our time with those things that weren't Love.  It was as if he was telling me to stick it out and see how Love was working in my life.  And yet, as I have come to realize, sometimes it is in the falling that the rising becomes so bittersweet.  I have fallen, but today, with Gus, I am happy to say that in my own feeble manner, I stand up again (and like Bambi when he is born) I walk once again with Love.  So may you also walk with Love, and in your journey, may you rejoice in having found and rediscovered Love as Gus did, and as I believe I have.  Late have I loved thee, O Lord, and yet, you were sitting right by my side all along.  Just smiling away and waiting for me to grow up.  I'm not fully grown up, but I know you are here.  Smiling right at me, loving me.  
As always, know that you are loved, and that you are beautiful.  I love you.  Fr Rick.

St. Augustine, pray for us. 

24 August 2015


Hello all.  Peace to you and blessings.  I haven't been on here for some time now, and trust me, while there is plenty that I have wanted to share, I have not been able to find the time to write.  For now, know that I send my warmest regards, and that soon, I will start this project up once again.  Until then, remember that I love you and that you are beautiful!

18 January 2015

A Letter to Someone Who "Cares"

Dear Bill,
Peace to you.
It has been a long time since I have had any communication from you or any other Oblates.  I presume that by now, decisions have been made about me regarding my standing as an Oblate and as a priest.  To my understanding, you and the Council have decided not to pursue any further contact, and have even excommunicated me or something of the sort.  I understand, and I am alright with those decisions (as silly as they are).  In spite of the things that know have decided were true about me, I am actually living a healthy, normal life.  I find it sad that in order to live, I would have to walk away from such a troubled group of men.  What disappoints me, however, is that having never done anything wrong, unlike so many others that both you and I know, I was treated like a criminal and pushed away.  I understand that you, the Council, and so many other "concerned" Oblates have an image of me that is quite horrible, I feel it necessary to explain who I am not.  (for your sake)
I am not a pastor or any church or organization or any other entity of the sort.  I also know that I am supposed to be a thief, I have never taken anything that wasn't mine, on the contrary, I often gave to churches where I was assigned.  I also never felt that I was sexually frustrated or repressed.  This also includes my belief that my sexuality was not your business, something that you and other Oblates so often tried to intrude upon.
Also, I am not, nor have I ever been in doubt of my priestly vocation.  I have no doubt of my call to service and love.  I was actually flourishing in the Diocese of San Angelo before the Oblates decided to revoke my faculties.
Overall, I believe that anything I say or write is of no importance to you.  Perhaps I should post it on Facebook so that this carries some weight, since I know that is where you have gathered your information about me anyway.  More than anything, I am saddened by the state of the Oblates U.S. Province, but even in all the mess that you have become, I forgive you.  I do not seek a response from you or anyone else.  Do not expect any further communication from you.

Peace to you,
Fr. Rick Lopez

08 January 2015

We are Charlie Hebdo... We are more.

For those who read this in an honest manner without ill will and negative intent, thank you.  For those who have taken my words to be what they are not, and who have used them against me or against those I love, here's more fodder.  (have fun!)

For those who have been following the saga that is my life, especially my service as a priest, last night I sat to write an angry letter.  As it turns out, my former Superiors all came together to make a decision about me and my standing in the Church.  As I come to find out, they used Facebook to search for evidence of my misdeeds or whatever they used.  (to my surprise, I thought those "superiors" were adults, but I guess they are teenagers with no other better resource for finding out information on people)  Whatever decision they made, no one bothered to inform me.  I guess that works too, my nephew does that (make decisions that no one else knows about)  but my nephew is 5.  Anyway, as it turns out, those priest and brothers used Facebook to decide that I was not worth talking to, they DUMPED me and I guess, in some realm, I was excommunicated or something from the church (woe is me!)  Getting back to my blog, last night I chose to write an angry letter to this secretive group of men.  I clarified for them who I am and who I am not.  I spelled out the details of my life that they were so anxious to know and as it turns out, my life is not that exciting.  I wrote until I had nothing more to say.  And then I said to them that I forgive them, and signed my name.
This letter will be refined and sent out, eventually it will make its way to this blog and beyond (I'm sure).  All this happened last night.  Then today happened.  Early this morning, I received a phone call from a dear friend.  Right away I knew that something was wrong, and when she came on the line, I mentioned two names.  Sure enough, it was Felix.  He was gone.  Shock took over and I went on a sort of autopilot that allowed me to do what I had to do the rest of the day.  Numbness was there, but more than anything, it was a sense of loss.  A friend, gone.  A friend, dead.
And then, the news about the massacre in France came across the news wire.  At first, I wasn't sure what was being said, but once I focused on the words and the sentiment that was being expressed, my shock was deepened by a profound sense of loss.  Throughout the day I have thought of why the France killings were so difficult for me, and while some would say that my friend's death plays a part in how I feel, I believe that there is more.  Especially since I left the active ministry, I have made it my goal to express a sentiment of joy and love to all.  I have encountered people battered and worn, and have shared with them as best as I can.  My mantra has become "You are beautiful.  You are loved." and I recite this (almost annoyingly) as often as possible.  And this is what scares me, not that I have chosen to take on a (as a priest once said about me) saccharine way of being, but that far too many of us mosey on throughout our lives just getting along.  In the past year, I have faced struggles, but when I wanted to quit, I made the decision to love.  To love myself.  To love my neighbor.  To love those who are difficult to love, and to love those for whom love has been limited.  This has not been an easy task because many people fear love, and expect that words of love are a primer for something else.  This is what bothered me so much about today, not that death took a friend, or that death was so prominent in the media today, but that for far too many, death is a selfish act that tries to replace love.  Death is a business, and just like my superiors, it is used to help those in power get their way.  As I reflect on Felix's loss today, and even the attacks of terror that take place far too frequently, I am reminded to love.  Love because I could go tommorrow, and love because death is too easy.  I don't know if I have made any sense, but I guess that the point I am trying to make is that love is the challenge in living.  Love is what makes us hurt when we lose someone, but love is also what reminds us of the good that can be achieved when love is shared.  Felix, I love you my friend, rest in peace.  And to you, the reader (whether good or ill) I love you too.  Peace and Good to you.  Rick.