Fr. Harry Winter
Christian Joy Past
THE HARMONICA, AN ECUMENICAL INSTRUMENT Please Click Here
Spring 2011
SINGING WITH THE LUTHERANS by Garrison Keillor
I have made fun of Lutherans for years – who wouldn’t if you lived in Minnesota? But I have also sung with Lutherans, and that is one of the main joys of life, along with hot baths and fresh sweet corn. We make fun of Lutherans for their blandness, their excessive calm, their fear of giving offense, their lack of speed and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese. But nobody sings like they do. If you ask an audience in New York City , a relatively Lutheranless place, to sing along on the chorus of ‘Michael Row the Boat Ashore’, they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Lutherans they’ll smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road! Lutherans are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony. It’s a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against that person’s rib cage. It’s natural for Lutherans to sing in harmony. We’re too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing in unison. When you’re singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it’s an emotionally fulfilling moment. I once sang the bass line of Children of the Heavenly Father in a room with about three thousand Lutherans in it; and when we finished, we all had tears in our eyes, partly from the promise that God will not forsake us, partly from the proximity of all those lovely voices. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other. I do believe this: These Lutherans are the sort of people you could call up when you’re in deep distress. If you’re dying, they’ll comfort you. If you’re lonely, they’ll talk to you. And if you’re hungry, they’ll give you tuna salad! The following list was compiled by a 20th century Lutheran who, observing other Lutherans, wrote down exactly what he saw or heard:
- Lutherans believe in prayer, but would practically die if asked to pray out loud.
- Lutherans like to sing, except when confronted with a new hymn or a hymn with more than four stanzas.
- Lutherans believe their pastors will visit them in the hospital, even if they don’t notify them that they are there.
- Lutherans usually follow the official liturgy and will feel it is their way of suffering for their sins.
- Lutherans believe in miracles and even expect miracles, especially during their stewardship visitation programs or when passing the plate.
- Lutherans feel that applauding for their children’s choirs would make the kids too proud and conceited.
- Lutherans think that the Bible forbids them from crossing the aisle while passing the peace.
- Lutherans drink coffee as if it were the Third Sacrament..
- Some Lutherans still believe that an ELCA bride and an LC-MS groom make for a mixed marriage. (For those of you who are not Lutherans, ELCA is Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and LC-MS is Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, two different divisions of the same Protestant religion.. And when and where I grew up in Minnesota , intermarriage between the two was about as popular as Lutherans and Catholics marrying.)
- Lutherans feel guilty for not staying to clean up after their own wedding reception in the Fellowship Hall.
- Lutherans are willing to pay up to one dollar for a meal at church.
- Lutherans think that Garrison Keillor stories are totally factual.
- Lutherans still serve Jell-O in the proper liturgical color of the season and think that peas in a tuna noodle casserole add a little too much color.
- Lutherans believe that it is OK to poke fun at themselves and never take themselves too seriously.
And finally, you know you’re a Lutheran when:
*It’s 100 degrees, with 90% humidity, and you still have coffee after the service; *You hear something really funny during the sermon and smile as loudly as you can; *Donuts are a line item in the church budget, just like coffee; *The communion cabinet is open to all, but the coffee cabinet is locked up tight; *When you watch a ‘Star Wars’ movie and they say, ‘May the Force be with you’, you respond, ‘and also with you’; *And lastly, it takes 15 minutes to say, ‘Good-bye’. May you wake each day with His blessings, Sleep each night in His keeping, And always walk in His tender care.
March 2011
A Jesuit Praises Aquinas on Humor and Joy
Father John F. Kavanaugh S.J. in America, Feb. 21, 2011, p. 9 has some significant things to say in his article “Aquinas, Go With Me.” He quotes 17 of Aquinas’ statements, which have helped Kavanaugh in his work in ethics. Consider #14: “It is against reason to be burdensome to others, showing no amusement and acting as a grouch. Those without a sense of fun, who never say anything ridiculous and are cantankerous with those who do, these are vicious and are called grumpy and rude (Summa Theologica 2a-2ae clxviii, 4).” Of course, #8 is the basis: “Love is absolutely stronger than hate.” His translations are from Thomas Gilby’s Saint Thomas Aquinas: Philosophical Texts.
Note that in the past, Jesuits and Dominicans have fought each other. Isn’t it significant that they agree on the joy and love we need as Christians?
This item was taken from our website, with approval, and used in the July-August 2011 Joyful Newsletter, p. 1.
February 2011
- National Geographic has sent expeditions of medical scientists to four areas of the world; they wrote a book about the extraordinary longevity of people in these four areas. Good humor good nutrition, daily exercise (including siestas) and faith are all described in their book. The Blue Zones: Lessons for Living Longer From the Longest-lived People.
- See the attached item on Harriet Beecher Stowe Click Here for Story
January 2011
Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen *1895-1979)’s Sense of Humor
The great television evangelist was also very ecumenical. He was pushing the Scottish Presbyterian Biblical scholar William Barclay (1907-78’s Daily Study Bible before many Catholic leaders recognized Christian Unity. He told the following humorous story about himself.
I was visiting Philadelphia to give a speech at Town Hall. I left my hotel early enough to walk a bit. After strolling for a while, I realized I was lost. I noticed a group of boys playing in the street and approached them. “I’m a stranger in your city and seem to have lost my way. Can you please tell me the way to Town Hall?” One of the boys volunteered and instructed me on how to get there. Then the boy asked, “What are you going to do there?” I replied, “I’m going to deliver a lecture.” The boy asked, “On what?” I replied, “On how to get to heaven.” The youngster exclaimed, “To heaven? You don’t even know how to get to Town Hall!
* A true lovely story…just lovely*
A true story by Catherine Moore
“Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him.
A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.
“I saw the car, Dad . Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving..”
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my
thoughts….. dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had revelled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature.
He had entered gruelling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it.. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered
CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone..
He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults.
The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody.
Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counselling appointments for us.
At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages.
I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article..”
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression.
Yet their attitudes had proved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog…
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odour of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens.
Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me.
I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair.
As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down.
It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of grey. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention.
Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?” The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one.
Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him.
That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.” He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. “You mean you’re going to kill him?”
“Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch…
“Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !” I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones.
Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!”
Dad ignored me.. “Did you hear me, Dad ?” I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.
We stood glaring at each other like duellists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him.
Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw…
Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently.
Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne ..
Together he and Cheyenne explored the community.
They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout.
They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.
Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne ‘s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night..
I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on..
As Dick and I buried him near a favourite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind. The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family.
I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church… The pastor began his eulogy.
It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.” “I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article..
Cheyenne ‘s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter …
…his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood.
I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry.
You might not get a second time.
And if you don’t send this to at least 4 people —nobody cares.. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found. God answers our prayers in His time……..not ours..
Adlai Stevenson vs Norman Vincent Peale over JFK
As the campaign in 1959 and 1960 heated up, the famous Protestant leader Norman Vincent Peale came out with a very public statement that he did not believe a Catholic could be president, because of connections to the Pope. Adlai Stevenson, also a Protestant, who had been the Democratic Party’s candidate for president both in 1952 and 1956, quipped: I find St. Paul appealing, and St. Peale appalling.
How Many Christians Does It Take to Change A Light Bulb?
Charismatic: Only one. Hands are already in the air.
Pentecostal: Ten. One to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.
Presbyterians: None. Lights will go on and off at predestined times.
Roman Catholics: None. Candles only.
Baptists: At least 15. One to change the light bulb and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad.
Episcopalians: Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks, and one to talk about how much better the old one was.
Mormons: Five. One man to change the bulb and four wives to tell him how to do it.
Unitarians: We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, that is
fine. You are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service, in which we will explore a number of light bulb traditions, including
incandescent, fluorescent, three-way, long-life, and tinted, all of which are equally valid paths to luminescence.
Methodists: Undetermined. Whether your light is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb, or tulip bulb. A church-wide lighting service is planned for Sunday. Bring a bulb of your choice and a covered dish.
Nazarene: Six. One woman to replace the bulb while five men review church lighting policy.
Lutherans: None. Lutherans don’t believe in change.
Amish: What’s a light bulb?
Children Are Quick (see Mk. 10:13-16). Originally from Joanna Anderson
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TEACHER: Why are you late?
STUDENT: Class started before I got here.
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TEACHER: Maria, go to the map and find North America .
MARIA: Here it is.
TEACHER: Correct. Now class, who discovered America ?
CLASS: Maria..
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TEACHER: John, why are you doing your math multiplication on the floor?
JOHN: You told me to do it without using tables.
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TEACHER: Glenn, how do you spell ‘crocodile?’
GLENN: K-R-O-K-O-D-I-A-L’
TEACHER: No, that’s wrong
GLENN: Maybe it is wrong, but you asked me how I spell it.
(I Love this child)
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TEACHER: Donald, what is the chemical formula for water?
DONALD: H I J K L M N O.
TEACHER: What are you talking about?
DONALD: Yesterday you said it’s H to O.
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TEACHER: Winnie, name one important thing we have today that we didn’t have ten years ago.
WINNIE: Me!
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TEACHER: Glen, why do you always get so dirty?
GLEN: Well, I’m a lot closer to the ground than you are.
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TEACHER: Millie, give me a sentence starting with ‘ I. ‘
MILLIE: I is..
TEACHER: No, Millie….. Always say, ‘I am.’
MILLIE: All right… ‘I am the ninth letter of the alphabet.’
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TEACHER: George Washington not only chopped down his father’s cherry tree, but also admitted it.
Now, Louie, do you know why his father didn’t punish him?
LOUIS: Because George still had the axe in his hand…..
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TEACHER: Now, Simon , tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating?
SIMON: No sir, I don’t have to, my Mom is a good cook.
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TEACHER: Clyde , your composition on ‘My Dog’ is exactly the same as your brother’s.. Did you copy his?
CLYDE : No, sir. It’s the same dog.
(I want to adopt this kid!!!)
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TEACHER: Harold, what do you call a person who keeps on talking when people are no longer interested?
HAROLD: A teacher
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PASS IT AROUND AND MAKE SOMEONE LAUGH! LAUGHTER IS THE SOUL’S MEDICINE
A Little Biblical Humor,
Computer Humor Joins All Denominations And Religions: Here are three Items.
Click Here for item one a Church Service
In 2015, Click Here for item Two Digital Confession,
Click Here for item 3 ZenZap: How the Internet Started According to the Bible
Substitute “Christian” for “manager”
Here is a little item from the Nov-Dec 2014. Joyful Noiseletter which may bring you a smile: the price of partridges, pear trees and turtledoves spiked, pushing the cost above $100,000.00 for the 364 items repeated in the Christmas carol, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” Holding steady, largely because of stagnant wages across the country, were the costs of maids-a-milking, ladies dancing, and lords-a-leaping (credit to The Associated Press)
Pope Francis as joyful recommended by Ellen DeGeneres. Click here for YouTube Video