To Be Some Day Like Frank G.

My fellow parishioner Frank G.’s daughter died yesterday. I learned about it this morning, just before processing up the aisle as lector #2 for the 8:15 Mass. I looked toward the front of the nave and saw Frank sitting alone in front of the statue of the Blessed Mother. I walked up and gently put my arm around his bony old shoulders. He kindly acknowledged my condolences, then asked how I was:And your family? Everything OK with you?” Typical Frank.

Frank G. is about 85, so his daughter must have been about my age. Frank was AWOL at daily Mass this week as his daughter lay dying of cancer in his home. Usually, as I have written before, he’s one of the first arrivals at daily 7 a.m. Mass, taking up his post in the front row by about 6:20. He pulls down his kneeler and doesn’t move a muscle until five minutes of the hour. I miss Frank when he isn’t there.

I returned to the back of the nave, organist Fred MacArthur struck up the melody from the loft above, and we walked up the aisle singing “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” I took my seat at the side of the sanctuary across from Father Barnes and alongside Bill, lector #1. I started thinking of Warren Jewell. Warren wrote one of his many good comments in response to a post about the role of the laity, describing his experience as a lector:

Before a given Mass, I would of course read [my selection] through over and over, including reading it aloud to my beloved Sharon. Sometimes, the words would so sink into me that they would get beyond my mind and heart, and past my spirit all the way down into my emotions. And, I could not read it again aloud without my voice cracking, my being flooding with humility that I am so privileged to read this part of God’s love letter for His children aloud at His Mass in His Church.

I realized, thinking of Warren’s comment, that I had rushed out of the house this morning and had not even read through my selection once. I knew what it was though, and before I rose to read, I told myself that I would dedicate the reading to Frank and his daughter. I have two daughters and cannot imagine losing one of them. Parents are not designed to outlive their children. I climbed into the pulpit and began:

Brothers and sisters: Strive for the greatest spiritual gifts. But I shall show you a still more excellent way. If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.

As I said the word love I glanced at Frank below me to the right. He was still alone before the Blessed Mother, and he was looking down at the missal open on his lap. He looked as though he was studying the words from Corinthians.

And if I have the gift of prophecy, and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

I glanced at Frank again on the second and third mentions of love. He was still looking down, still studying, and I was stung by a thought. Frank has forgotten more about the meaning of love than I will ever learn, and there he is, acting as though he needs to understand it better!

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrong-doing but rejoices with the turth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 

Frank is a regular at our Saturday-morning men’s group, although he was not there yesterday, for a reason I now understand. He seldom says much at the group, but no matter how tired he looks, he always seems to listen intently to the speaker, again as though he were the one with things to learn. Then at the end of every meeting, he leads the group in a prayer to St. Michael the Archangel.

Love never fails. If there are prophecies, they will be brought to nothing; if tongues, they will cease; if knowledge, it will be brought to nothing. 

One Saturday, I talked about this blog. Frank had nothing to offer, since I doubt he has a computer or even understood what a blog is. I talked for an hour, he listened, and after the prayer to St. Michael, he thanked me and asked after my family.

For we know partially and we prophesy partially, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things. At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known. 

Usually, my voice does not get emotional when I read at Mass. I do my best to give each word its full value, to proclaim the Word as it deserves, but usually I am not moved beyond a certain rudimentary enthusiasm. Never have I felt the upswelling that I felt today with the final words of the reading. If I had looked over at Frank at this moment, I would have lost it completely.

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

As Frank teaches me every time I see him—and as our Pope taught today in his homily—love is indeed the greatest gift.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/01819831282677092730 Frank

    Very humbling. Thank you Webster.

  • Laurie

    Thank you, Webster.

  • Mary P.

    Wow, this one blows me away, Webster. That passage always gave me chills. May we all love as Frank G. has.

  • Warren Jewell

    Thanks be to God, as our Father, His love never, never, ever fails. O dear Lord, Love of loves, be welcomniong of Frank's baby, and consoling with Frank. And, bless Webster for weaving such a beautiful story.

  • john halpin md

    webster you have a beutiful gift.keep your wonderful blogs coming.my love to frank.

  • Patrick

    Very powerful and moving on so many levels. I just lost my father, who was 85. As the father of seven, I cannot think of anything worse than losing a child, no matter at what stage in life. God bless Frank G and his family. I hope that my faith can grow to be as strong as his.

  • Webster Bull

    I didn't write anything about Fr. Barnes's homily, which emphasized that without truth the love of Corinthians is incomplete. The Gospel for today is a complement to Corinthians. It shows Jesus telling the truth in the synagogue and being driven out by the fury of the mob, to the "brow of the hill," where "Jesus passed through the midst of them and went away." Father Barnes said, What you never hear Jesus saying in the Gospels is, Live and let live. Like if you're out drinking with friends and a drunk friend is about to drive home–you might say ("loving" your friend), Sure, whatever you want, Live and let live. Or you might say, telling the truth to your friend, You're drunk, you can't drive. Father Barnes has a way of bringing the readings and Gospels into everyday life.

  • Anonymous

    Webster, thanks for the thoughtful message. In postings such as these we see God act in our midst. It's a glimpse of grace.

  • El Bollio Tejano

    Webster, Went to mass tonight instead of the usual Sunday morning routine. Today the readings were extra special because of your post and I could not help but think of you reading in your church, earlier in the day. I think you have posted pictures of your home parish before, and I could not help but think of it during the evening mass.Amazing about the body of Christ and the unity of the readings of the Universal Church. We are all, literally, on the same page. About a year ago I shared with several evangelical protestants in my office the fact that every Catholic Church in the world has the same readings at mass every day, they were in disbelief… Apparently, in most protestant churches, the readings are whatever the preacher decides for that day. This unity of readings in our Church makes sense to me. It brings us all together…I felt with you today, after reading your post. God bless, and have a great week.Pax tecum

  • Webster Bull

    El Bollio Tejano,Muchas gracias. An exception to the Protestant minister "decides for the day" is the Anglican or Episcopal Church in America, which has essentially the same lectionary as the Catholic Church. Many times I have come home from 7 am mass and discussed the readings with my mother after she returns from her 8 am Sunday service in the Episcopal Church. It is wonderful to be "on the same page."

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/12442813565745123497 MUJERLATINA

    Please send my condolences to Frank G., whom I have never met, but whose image is firmly planted in my brain viA YIMC posts. As I write this I am crying for Frank's loss, and for the powerful witness that he has been to you Webster. Does Frank G. knoW that the Choir of Angels surround him in his grief? No Webster, Frank G. was not alone before the Blessed Mother yesterday. Rather, he was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses from above — the Communion of Saints — May we all be a faithful as Frank G.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/10936303952493917859 Duane

    I've never met Frank G., but I grieve with him.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/13201226644704622876 Sal

    My prayers for Frank G. and his family. May his beautiful daughter rest in peace.Webster, your writing is such a blessing to us. Thank you for using your gift in His service.At the monastery, Fr. X. preached on the exact same thing- that love without truth is not truly love. That world-wide synchronicity, that we are all on the same page everywhere is awesome.

  • Webster Bull

    It is Tuesday morning, and at 11 am, there will be a private service for Joyce Gaudenzi. Please continue your prayers for her, and for her father, Frank Gaudenzi.


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