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For the week of August 17, 2008
Lift Up Your Hearts
These words should be familiar to
each one of us. These words are
repeated at every Mass celebrated
throughout the world. For many a
presiding priest these words may be
difficult to utter. Let me explain by
example.
Within walking distance of the huge
Friary/Faculty House in Philadelphia
was a complex of many homes. The
neighborhood was usually quiet, the
residents cared about each other—pretty much friendly.
One late evening in the beautiful month of September the relative
silence of the neighborhood was shattered by the screeching sounds of
fire engines making their way to a house fire. The commotion was
near our friary. We left the friary to find out what had happened.
According to witnesses, the man who lived in the house with his wife
and three children, came home from work. As was his custom he
would come home, kick off his shoes, toss something on the oven to
eat, grab a bottle of beer, and relax while watching TV.
This particular evening, unfortunately, he fell asleep in the chair. On
the stove in the kitchen towards the back of the house, the cooking oil
began to splatter onto the stove and caused the fire. In a matter of
minutes flames spread quickly and consumed the back section of the
house. Smoke spread to the living room where he was seated.
Horrified, he dashed towards the kitchen, only to be repelled by the
flames. The fire fighters tried to restrain him from remaining in the
burning house. You see—his three children were trapped in the
bedroom upstairs—with the only stairwell leading upstairs totally
engulfed in flames. The fire was put out within a short time. The wife
arrived on the scene—screaming, crying, hysterical, as would be
expected. Husband and wife ran toward each other for that most
welcome embrace of mutual support and consolation.
The loss of the house was irrelevant to the irreplaceable loss of three
young children, ages three to seven. Five lives—three lost and two
irrevocably changed as a result of this tragedy. This was a beautiful
family—fervent, devout Catholics, at Mass regularly; hard-working,
kind and compassionate. They were people of great faith. On the next
day, Sunday, I was both surprised and edified to find the husband and
wife, now left childless, attending Mass as usual. News of the tragedy
spread throughout the parochial neighborhood. Many of the
parishioners were extending their expressions of condolences and
sympathy. And so—I come to the words introducing the Preface in the
Mass: Life up your hearts. I looked at this couple seated up front and
thought: how can they lift up their heavily burdened, devastated hearts
to the Lord after such a great tragedy. But they responded with
everyone, We lift them up to the Lord. I was choked up when I offered
the next invocation Let us give thanks to the Lord our God and all the
assembly with this couple responded It is right to give him thanks and
praise.
After Mass they continued to receive the kind words of the others.
They went back to the destroyed home—but they immediately
decided to rebuild. There was no animosity between them, or any
suggestion or hint of blame. Their love for each other was great and
would not allow even the slightest possibility of marital rift. Their faith
and trust in the words of Jesus “Come to me all you who labor and are
burdened, and I will refresh you” continue to be most evident to all.
What if this happened to you?
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