I was thinking about things I have been passionate about in my life. . .
Early on I found myself to be passionate about music. Singing in the choir, singing while cleaning my grade school classrooms and hallways, singing while speeding down the street on my bike, singing while walking the streets of Highland Park . . . . Later, I tried (and mostly failed at) becoming passionate about the piano and organ. But the mechanics of piano got in the way of my making music. When I discovered the guitar, I found the shortcut to making music happen NOW, and I was hooked.
For the next 40+ years, I delighted in expressing myself with, through and accompanied by my treasured companion, my guitar. I've plugged away learning picking and strumming techniques. I've played for campfire hootenannies and lakeside parties. I've played for charismatic prayer gatherings, small liturgical celebrations, weddings, funerals, and large choral celebrations. I've played to console myself in the dark of night, to comfort my friends through troubling times, to woo and win the love of my life, and to entertain and amaze my babies. I've played with my guitar, prayed with my guitar, hidden behind my guitar, and followed my guitar through adventure after adventure. I guess you could say I was passionate about my relationship with my guitar. I miss it. With any luck (and maybe a lot of work), I might yet reclaim it.
I've been passionate about my Church. I've taken to heart the call to aggiornamento and resourcement that the framers and prophets of Vatican II issued to us all. Why not engage the world as a Church? Why not take seriously the baptism that beckons us and anoints us to the Christian life? I've passionately (if not rather awkwardly and often timidly) sought to involve myself in the life of my church community. I've worked within the RCIA, children's catechesis, adult faith enrichment, and liturgical ministry. I've passionately delved into Church history, particularly looking for clues in the last couple of centuries of the RC Church life in the New World. What can the efforts of truly sincere believers, wrestling with the unknown and untried, mean for my own faith journey in 21st-century America? There are really no answers -- only the process and the journey. And I'm thrilled to be on that pilgrimage.
I've been passionate about my family. Perhaps I've learned this late in my life, but I've learned it nonetheless. Starting with my nearly 33-year relationship with my wife, a woman who has loved me deeply, passionately and patiently, I have begun to understand the challenge as well as the rewards that flow from a deeply committed relationship. Along the way, I've begun to realize just how committed I am to my family -- both my family of origin and the family I've been privileged to help bring into being. What can be more reassuring and confidence-building than to have six sisters who are determined to see our mutual relationships maintained and nurtured? What can be more gratifying than to see your children grow into the fantastic human beings you know them capable of being? What can be more satisfying than growing into old age with the love of your life, the mother of your children? Family isn't something we have, something we possess. Family is something much more basic, much more fundamental. Family is something we are.
Not that these are all the things about which I am passionate. God knows there are other things, like defending the right to speak my mind when it's warranted, the delight I take in reflecting on the absurdities of daily life, the enjoyment I take in creating an edible and enjoyable meal, and the pleasure I derive from finding, possessing, reading and appreciating a good book. There are the precious relationships with friends that inspire a passionately loyal and loving response. The passions are many, but without them -- what would life be?
I'm just saying. . . .
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