My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
A Roadside Chapel and God's Love
The times I think of what Eucharist should be I recall Mike Higgins offering the cup in consecration at Sabana Grande. It was a roadside chapel and hardly filled, except with God's love and Michael's offering of what God would have most wanted to be. A gentle invitation to share in his life as well as his presence, a very welcoming gesture saying that God, in this celebration, was delighted he had come.
Labels:
celebration,
God,
love,
Michael Higgins,
priesthood,
Puerto Rico,
sharing
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