Dum dum dum, DUM dum dum-dum; dum dum dum, dum, dum.
Father Miller crumpled up the Easter sermon – again. There were only so many times he could go into “Christ is risen, born again, as we all are when we live in Christ.” The tune was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. It was coming from the church.
Casey? He glanced at the clock. It was too early for him to get ready for Mass.
The refrain started again. He thought he heard laughter. He finally gave up for the minute, debating on using the sermon given to him from the Vatican to use instead. He went out of the rectory and heard singing.
“Some stupid with a flare gun/Burned the place to the ground…”
Then he heard two voices.
“Smooooooke on the waaaater! Fire in the sky! Smooooooke on the waaaaater…”
Dum dum dum, DUM dum dum-dum…
What the devil –
Now he knew the song. He remembered it from his younger days, days before the seminary and when he was still in college, with lava lamps and pot, drinking and partying. But who was doing this?
He opened the door to the church and stepped inside. Casey was at the organ, doing the singing, and a woman with dark hair, in a t-shirt and jeans, was sitting with him. They both broke out into song at the chorus, both voices were clear and strong, sounding a lot better than he remembered hearing it from his friends during his college days.
“Casey!”
He stopped mid-reach, and his fingers slipped from the keyboard, giving a low groan instead. “Father,” Casey said, his face blushing. “I didn’t see your car.”
“It’s in the shop,” he said, slowly getting angry. “Is this what you do when I’m not around?” He looked to the woman. “Is this your girlfriend?”
“Ah…uh, no!”
The woman rose from the bench gracefully. “No Father Morris,” she said in a beautiful voice, “I’m his best friend for years.” Her voice seemed to disarm him, calm him. “He was celebrating.”
“Celebrating? With a song like that?”
“It’s not the song,” she said, “but the joy behind it.”
He stared at her for a minute. “The joy.” Running through his mind for a moment, were the moments of joy in his life – when he felt the calling of God and chose to go to the seminary. When he took his vows and knew this was where he needed to be. When old Father Jackson handed him the keys and told him to unlock the door to this church himself. When he baptized babies, or married couples, or, even sometimes if he knew the person had been ill for a long time, as incensed bodies at a funeral.
“Of course,” he said quietly. “The joy.”
The woman motioned to the church, decorated in flowers for the Easter service on Sunday, and the small stage where some elementary school children would perform the gospel of Jesus’ death at 6:30 Mass on Good Friday, and another group on Sunday morning Mass. “That is what you celebrate this Sunday, the joy of Christ’s return.”
Casey was looking up at the woman with something like adoration.
“You celebrate the return of the sun. And the Son of God.”
He suddenly had a thought. “Mind if I use that?” he asked her.
“I hope you do,” she said, smiling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Father Miller waited until Casey went back to his place at the organ, knowing that at that point, all the children who had participated in the play were back at the seats of their parents. “Let’s have another round of applause for the children who performed the Passion and Mr. Donovan who directed it.”
After the applause died down, Father Miller leaned forward on the podium and began.
“Joy. Think about that for a minute. Think about some of the most joyous times you’ve had in your life. The birth of a child. The success of an endeavor. The beauty of a sunset. The moment you realize you’re in love.
“What we celebrate here, today, is joy. Think for a minute of the joy of Mary when she saw the angel who said, ‘He is risen.’ …”
Casey listened quietly, smiling. His heart swelled, and he looked out at the congregation, caught the eyes of some of the children he had worked with, and winked at them. They giggled and blushed.
“So today, somehow, some way, bring joy to your hearts, and the hearts of others. Laugh today. Bring laughter to others. Celebrate the return of the Son of God.”
He stepped away from the podium. Miller thought, for absolute certain that was the best homily he had ever delivered.
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