AMEN

                As the cold winter winds whipped the snows around, the crowd gathered for the Sunday Mass.  Dusting their feet off on the woven mat they removed their gloves and blessed themselves with the holy water as they prepared to enter the sanctuary.  Hustling and bustling to their seats the parishioners initially failed to notice the frail old man as he entered the church.  Quietly he waited for many to be seated as he spotted a place near the Tabernacle of the Blessed Sacrament in which to partake of Mass. Slowly being noticed and greeted with benign smiles he gradually made his way to the pew and knelt to say his prayer and prepare for the celebration which was about to ensue; the reception of Christ’s body.

                Clang, clang, clang was the sound of the bells as they were rung to announce the procession of the celebrating ministry.  Standing to greet the crucifix as the altar server passed by with it, the devoted blessed themselves and the Mass began.  Throughout the course of the Mass, the older gentleman was frequently eyed as it was obvious that he had physical impairments.  Some of the people talking and whispering amongst themselves wondered why he even bothered to try to attend Mass as he certainly would qualify for sacramental reception at home.  Still others marveled at how he must not be too bad off as he did manage to attend after all.

                As the Mass progressed and consecration was realized the contingent of parishioners began to stand within their pews waiting to enter the line for reception of Holy Communion.  One by one the rows emptied as the faithful lined up for the reception of the Blessed Sacrament.  After they all had received the celebrating priest noticed the elder gentleman and motioned for him to also come forward.  The old man, struggling to move, remained stationary in the pew, smiled at the priest and nodded yes.  The priest continued to motion him to come forward gesturing that he too was welcome to come forward and receive the precious Body and Blood. Yet the old man just stayed in the pew smiling at the priest.  Finally a member of the church body, an usher, went up to the man and asked, “Would you like to receive Communion, sir?” “Yes” was the reply given in a weakened voice, “I would like to receive the Body and Blood.” “Sir,” the usher continued, “the good father is waiting for you to come to him but Mass is going to end soon.  If you want to receive, you’d better get up there.” The older gentleman looked at his trembling legs and hands and then up at the usher, “Perhaps it would be easier on the priest if I just received in spirit.” The usher nodded and looking up at the priest shook his head no. As the priest passed in front of the elder, returning the remaining consecrated hosts to the tabernacle, the man made the sign of the cross and shed a tear as he uttered, “Amen.”

                Back at the Altar the priest informed the participants of the upcoming festivities at the church and the prayers that were requested for the week. Finally bestowing a blessing on the crowd he bid them farewell, “the Mass has ended, let us go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”               

                Now with most Masses, after the recessional, the priest remains for a bit to say hello to those as they leave and this day was no different.  Standing at the rear of the church and full of animation he would chuckle and smile as some would take his hand and comment on the homily, the upcoming football game, or the need for more padding in the kneelers.  Yet the old man remained behind.  He waited in the pew as the church emptied.  Ushers cleaning up the crumpled bulletins noticed him and asked if there was a problem. “Do you think that the good father would mind hearing my confession? I haven’t been feeling too well and it would help me to sleep peacefully.” “Oh, I’m sorry old man,” said the usher, “reconciliation was over with just before Mass, it’s much more convenient for the father that way.”   Chuckling slightly as he pointed to the back of the church where a few were still talking to the priest he continued, “perhaps if you hurry you can catch him and get a quick blessing for a good night’s rest.”  As he, the usher, exited to the other side of the church the gent slumped down in the pew for a few minutes and just held his head in his hands.  Several moments seemed to pass before he got up and started to make his way to the back of the church.

                As the priest came up the center aisle he smiled as the older sir paused to greet him.  Resting one of his hands on the pews and looking at it momentarily he extended his hand out hoping to shake the hand of the priest as he walked by.  But instead, the cleric patted him on the shoulder and uttered, “take care, Fella.”  The gentleman turned back around with great sadness as the priest paused to pick up something from the floor and remarked, “You seem to be eyeing that pew a lot, familiar with wood, sir?” “I am the son of a carpenter,” he replied looking up at the priest with tear filled eyes.  “Well, my goodness,  you don’t see too many carpenters around anymore, craftsmanship is all but dead. But then, with the way life is now, there doesn’t seem to be much need for them either.” “Yes, that is true,” said the old man, “I can’t seem to find many fishermen either” as he made his way slowly towards the vestibule.

                Caught by the comment, the priest watched the old man as he made his way.  “Sir, I don’t recall seeing you before, are you new to the parish?”  The man stopped in his tracks and turned around, “Father,” he said, “I was here when the first rock was found, you might even say I discovered it.  I was here when there was rebellion and the church body rejected those they called troublemakers and cast them aside.  I was there when the woman cried at the loss of her son.  I was there when very few who were close showed for his funeral and his most trusted friends, denied him.  I was here when the Son rose.  I was here when the first bricks of this particular church were set.  Perhaps a few years ago you would have recognized me, but it is now when I am here as I am that you should know me best.”

                The priest gazed at the old man and noticed that he now seemed to be holding something in his hand, a circular type of object.  He said, “Are you sure I don’t know you?” But the man remained silent and continued on his way out the door, letting drop from his hands the rounded object.  It came to rest on the threshold of the door.  Dumbfounded, the priest tried to follow him but the man was gone. 

                The priest’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at the object and bent down to pick up the spindled and prickly phenomenon.  Instantly he turned around to look at the Altar and the large corpus crucifix that stood behind it.  Gasping, he noticed that from the statuary body of Christ, the crown of thorns was missing; he was holding it in his hands.

Blessings -Synposis/Treatment for Film/Series-

Blessings

5 retired clergy members, 2 ministers, a rabbi, a Catholic priest and a nun, are “given” a rundown ranch to live in free of charge by the social services department of a medium sized town, provided they agree to live within and work within the community and amongst the flock in the very embodiment of day to day living that their flocks do/did.  In this day to day living, they all get ‘wake’ up calls in reality; often finding more things in common than their theological differences would have one believe and finding out that things for their flocks weren’t as easy or simple as they counseled them to believe they were.  Aside from living out their advancing years, they become community, social welfare activists and counselors a thousand times more than they ever were in their active ministries and discover countless things about themselves and each other that they never knew.

Characters:

Reverend Jackson T. Adams.”Jack”…. A Methodist minister, approx. 65 yrs old, whose                                                                Daddy was an American History professor in college    He was widowed early in his marriage   

and threw himself into his work, never remarrying. 

Rabbi Sid Gershon………                  Was single for many years.  He and his lady love were kids when

they eloped and the parents had it annulled he too, never remarried.  He is about 60s-70s.       

                                                 

Father Michael Fitzgerald    A retired parish priest, nearly made monsignor, but retired due to  health reasons; arthritis and asthma. He is mid 60s.  He was the last of  13 kids and born on a Friday the 13^th.  

Reverend Leon Bolton  …. An African American Southern Baptist Minister in his fifties who retired due to disability, and based upon decision of his church board in favor of a younger and “healthier” minister.

Sister Margaret Connelly,    Sister Margaret, a retired principal and works as a part time hospital chaplain.  A bit cantankerous and crotchety with the gents, but with kids and visitors she is just

as sweet as honey.  She is 72 and “been around a sight longer than the rest” she likes to remind the gents.  She is very Irish in her temperament.

Bonnie Charles…… A social worker with City Allied Agency, who knows not only the clergy representatives and works with them but helped to bring them together as one, in one house.   

Raymond Healy          The director of City Allied Agency.  He too, works with the clergy  He left seminary, prior to ordination to marry,  He, with Bonnie not only brought the clergy folks together but keeps them     “busy” with assignments and tasks, from time to time.             

Yang Ho Quon           ----    Master Gardener, next door neighbor, mid 60s. (has dementia)

Lin Diem Quom          ----     wife of Yang, lifelong homemaker, early 60s.

Ernestine Quinn……sister of Fr. Mike. She is married with 5 kids and is always dropping by with some sort of food dish, as she thinks the men aren’t properly fed… despite the nun living there, which

she thinks is shameful.

Pilot Episode:  “The Grass is Always Greener”

The characters are introduced and get a “taste” for setting up housekeeping, which had previously been provided for by their respective flocks or religious associations.  They hassle with the utility companies because they don’t have “credit” established and have trouble establishing their worthiness.   This episode also brings in an additional resident, a retired Catholic nun.. who HAS a bit more of a grasp on the realities of this community than the ministers do. 

Episode 2:    Forgive and Forget

Rev. Adams is confronted with a friend from the past, who was in prison for absconding with church and televangelism funds and who erroneously tried to say that he was ‘in on it’ also.   Fr. Fitzgerald and his sister Ernestine, try to come to an understanding about his being all grown up and able to tend to himself and her need to mother him. 

Episode 3:   Strange Bedfellows

The Rabbi and Sister Margaret, upon discovering some graffiti on the fence, try to work with the neighborhood association in order to get a youth center started and give the kids something to do other than mischief.  Mrs. Quon wants them to add a senior center.

Episode 4:  Politics Schmolitics

A state assemblyman, is pro a lot of things.  Sr. Margaret and Fr. Fitzgerald try to work with him on a more tactful approach in his contradictory dealings and the faith which he claims to practice.    Sid and Jack, discover a connection from years back.. Jack’s dad was a liberator of a concentration camp in WW2, where Sid’s uncle and nephews were sent and it seems, Jack, in possession of his dad’s photo album, has pictures of said uncle and nephews that are heartbreaking but endearing as Sid never “met” them.

Episode 5:  A Season of Renewal

The clergy, as they prepare to celebrate their respective Winter holidays are met with a “clergyman” who needs a place to stay.. a moderate Muslim cleric, a mullah who has been erroneously aligned with extremists and who is being ‘investigated’.  He is cleared, but while he awaits being “cleared” they all use the time to jointly educate each other, share some tears and care.

Episode 6:  Sins of the Fathers

Fr. Fitzgerald tries to counsel a man in his 40s who was abused, by one of his former assistants, who has since been defrocked.  Fr. Fitzgerald had the priest reassigned, but did so thinking at the time, that it would help, not understanding, as many didn’t that the perpetrator could not be “cured”, despite treatment he went through.

Episode 7:  A Woman’s Place

Sister Margaret, in working with the youth center is confronted with those who say she is mistreated and shut out of life being a nun, when she should be granted full access.  She uses her ways and abilities to show how much she is not shut out of anything, but in turn gives and brings peace of Heaven in her own way… consecrating and blessing through charity and mercy.

The Bow Tie Part 1

                Perhaps aging, in various forms, is a sort of an earthly purgatory where one looks over their life and corrects, at least in their mind’s reasoning, the paths that would’ve been better to take – ones’ causing least regret. It’s where one’s life has traveled that is the most entertaining, for lack of a better word; the sometimes odd pathways from childhood years, to work and beyond.  Alone at the window, Anna was often sitting in a chair which was part of a dinette set that she and her second husband purchased for their first residence as husband and wife, just after they were first married; she reflected on their years together.  Then with the whiff of a chilled breeze that floats through the autumn air across to her face she is taken back to her childhood, the love, the family closeness, and the sometimes terror that befell her.

                There she lay, motionless on the bed waiting for the medical team of doctors, nurses, and lab technicians to finish with her. Watching as the nurses pulled the plastic tenting over her upper body, she screamed on the inside, anxiously awaiting the time when they’d all depart and she could bury her face in the white muslin sheeted pillow beneath her head.  She was not going to give them the satisfaction of letting them see her scared, despite the fact that on the inside she was, in all her abandonment, frightened for her life, at four years of age.

                One can only imagine the terror that must fill a child when they are whisked from the warm bed and house that they know and love, off into the chilly and damp night and into a place that was as sterile to her as it was foreign.  It wasn’t the hospital itself that was foreign to her but rather it was the private room; no one staying there but her. Despite the faint glimmer of Christmas lights in the distance, as seen through the prisms of raindrops on the window, all she could truly focus on was the off white plaster walls, the green metal barred child bed she was placed in, and the machine the blew the oxygen into the tent that encapsulated half of the bed.

                It was well into the second hour of her infirmed imprisonment that the medical staff left.  She was ill and she knew it.  Sometimes Anna would be able to run and play, but in fall and winter, there were times that she could not. Plagued with an asthma like condition which afflicted her bronchial tubes, she was usually confined to bed with head colds that would be simple for you or I, but to her they could spell trouble, for if the germ moved into her chest, her breathing and ability to absorb oxygen could be seriously compromised.