A Fresh Perspective

The children and I greeted the abnormally cool, overcast July day with a livelier spring in our steps than I'd expected. Even more so since we were walking up to the church for Sunday Mass. L was out of town so it was just me and three kids.
As we crested the old, cracked stone steps, we saw the dark black man in green vestments standing in the narthex. Ah, a visiting priest.
A visiting priest to a Catholic Mass means two things: Primarily, to convey his message of the "suffering but not without hope" of a people far, far away. Secondly, to have the collection basket go for a bonus round. I'm unsure of the actual order of importance.
Our usual spots in the last two pews were taken. I reluctantly trudged up the left side all the way to the front pew. Right in front of the piano.
Reluctant, you ask? Yes. Again, for two reasons. First, I'm a sweat monster. I could break a sweat walking naked through a snow storm while eating a Popsicle. I'd rather the entire congregation not ogle me as my forehead dispensed droplets down my face as if my hairline was a shower head.
Then, there's Zander, our 4 year old son. Zander knows no boundaries. He truly believes we all exist simply to watch him perform.
How in God's name (pun intended) could I not break the sweat of a lifetime being in the front pew, with Zander, directly in front of the piano?
(Well, I've lived true to my first blog. I've gone off on quite a tangent. I hope you're still with me.)
Father Camillus de Lellis presided over, what started out to be, a typical Catholic Mass. Then came his homily. I learned that Father de Lellis is Pastor of a church in Ghana, Africa. He told us that Catholicism is relatively new in the "bush" and that his church has only been around since 1997.
This humble man told the congregation, sitting in an air-conditioned church, how blessed we are. How electricity is a luxury in Ghana and rationed by the government when acquired.
This humble man went on to tell us how incredibly blessed we are to be born on the soil of the United States of America. How being born on this soil naturally made us citizens and how so many others fight and struggle to come to our nation to live free, without those government controls. Yet, even if they make it, they still have to swear an oath to stay. Something I did not have to do, simply because I was blessed by being born here.
Father de Lellis continued about the opportunities here, and he legitimized himself by not being from here. He made it clear that we are still a destination.
In an era when we're being made to feel bad about ourselves, I felt Fr. de Lellis's homily to be uplifting about myself and my homeland. When I see so many of our leaders publicly denouncing our own country for perceived wrongs (or their own agendas), Fr. de Lillis made me proud, once again, to be American. To be blessed to be American.
From the lips of a Holy Man from afar, Father Camillus de Lellis gave a fresh perspective to a fat and happy and prosperous society how blessed we really are.
I didn't suffer a single droplet of sweat.
The usher made his predicted second pass with the offertory wicker basket. Even though I was the first be offered to contribute, I observed a $20 bill already in place. I suppressed my jaded look on life enough to toss in a $5. Not that I would've given much more, but it was all I had.
Zander did play "air-piano" along with Ryan, the musician. But he was not his usual flamboyant self.
Makes me wonder if Divine intervention kept Zander at bay so I could soak in this regenerating homily . . .