We had a couple of new parishioners hanging out on the roof last Sunday. Actually, they perched themselves on the Cross, doing their best impersonation of Jesus. They are, I believe, from the neighborhood Hawk family. I thought I heard someone call them by their names - Harry & Helen Hawk. I also thought I heard a few funny responses during the 7:00 a.m. Mass coming from up above through the walls. I suspect it was their own way of thanking Jesus for being raised from the dead by the glory of God the Father, becoming the firstborn of all creation, which would include the neighborhood Hawk family. Maybe you’ve seen them hanging out in your yard?
Anyway, there were two hawks looking for some Sunday morning prey last week. Like most all birds, it would be safe to assume that hawks are early risers, looking for more than the worm. They’re searching closely for any creature that scurries along the ground at a fast rate, trying their darndest to go quickly from one bush to another. The little creatures have full instincts that tell them they cannot mosey along the grass or cement at a slow rate of speed on any morning, or afternoon for that matter, lest they be seen by the Hawk family, who happens to be in a state of hunger (like all those children in China my mother used to tell us about if we didn’t eat our vegetables). Unfortunately, some percentage of the little creatures lose the battle when scurrying quickly from one bush to another - a battle the Hawk family has won many times.
The Hawk family hanging out on the cross on the Church roof is reminiscent of the time we were in Rome on a tour, visiting the major Basilicas over the course of a couple of days. At one of the five major Basilicas in the Eternal City (I believe it was St. Mary Major), there happens to be a very large statue of St. Francis of Assisi diagonally across the street from the holy structure. I remember our tour guide, Frederico, a former college history professor turned guide (being a guide was much more fun) looking across the street at the statue of St. Francis and saying in his best English with an Italian accent, “Every time I bring a group to this Basilica, it never fails that there’s always a bird sitting on his head.” And looking over as he finished with those words, there was a pigeon sitting on the head of St. Francis.
How appropriate is it that a statue of St. Francis of Assisi always seems to have a bird crouched on the head part of Francis’ body? A lot of jokes could be made concerning this visual of creature and the Saint of animals. And many of them would come from the good people of St. Anne’s Parish (I’m getting to know you!). But some things in the world are just meant to be. When we exited the Basilica after our indoor tour, I never did look to see if that bird, or another one, was sitting on the head of St. Francis. If so, they must have felt welcomed and at home. Just like Harry & Helen Hawk last week, who wowed a few of the folks who took notice of their presence on the cross.
Now, how can we make a religious connection with two hawks sitting on a cross? Any ideas? Not easy. It’s much easier to do so with a statue of St. Francis and any bird in the world sitting on his head. I’ll give it a double try. How about this? First, Mr. & Mrs. Hawk from the local neighborhood were perched on the symbol that reminds the world of what our God has accomplished for us in the of Person of Jesus, His Son. Certainly, this is a reminder we’re all in need of throughout our daily living. One fascinating part of this story is the attraction of the object the Hawk family sat on. It’s one thing to look up and see two hawks sitting on the Church roof. It’s quite a different meaning to look up and see them sitting on the cross. Maybe God was using these creatures on a Sunday morning to call special attention to the ultimate meaning of the word sacrifice. Not a day should go by in our lives where we are not cognizant to some degree of Jesus’s sacrifice for our sins, and the symbol that saves the world from eternal damnation.
Second, possibly the husband & wife Hawk family were watchdogs for God on the day of the week our Lord rose from the dead, watching to see who was coming to celebrate the Lord’s victory and who was not. They likely were able to see all the way up Belmont Street in one direction, and clear to the Shrewsbury/Northborough line in the other direction, taking notes, reporting back to their Divine source. Okay, this is a stretch, but I like the idea that God knows whose faith is alive and whose is not. Personally, I take no attendance at Mass like one priest I know. But, like that one priest who does take attendance, he would be consistent with the ways of God.
Either way, it’s likely the Hawk family will move on to another high-top roof for their prey from this Sunday forward. However, if they wish to remain here, we have no problem with their attendance. I won’t even mind the funny responses coming from above, as long as they are part of our family.
HOLINESS Christianity does not understand holiness (except for God's holiness) only as a given condition but also as a call. The New Testament not only calls the followers of Jesus a holy people, but it demands, in the imperative voice, that they become holy. The Corinthians, for example, are “called to be holy.” In that sense, holiness may be understood as part of the conversion process: a move away from that which is not God (aversion) toward that which makes us closer to God after the manner of Jesus (conversion). To use a traditional vocabulary, the call is the urging grace of God, while our conversion to God is a response to that prompting of grace. Holiness, then, involves both a condition and a choice in response to an offer. This turn to holiness involves decisions that are individual but accomplished within the context of the believing assembly. In the contemporary Church this call to holiness is most solemnly set out in the fifth chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium) of the Second Vatican Council. The title of that chapter, “The Call of the Whole Church to Holiness,” is not ornamental but essential. Holiness is not the domain of an elect or cultic group within the Church but the universal vocation of all Christians: “… all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity.” It may well be - and the conciliar document outlines distinct ways of life in the Church - that people find themselves in various circumstances of life; nonetheless, everyone is called to the same holiness that is rooted in the same bedrock of charity, i.e., the love of God above all things and the love of others for the sake of God. Thus, a person may have the charism of virginity or the grace of marriage, but the holiness of each is tested by the same rule: Christian charity, by which we love all things in the love of God.” from The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality