South Florida ​ Lay Cistercian NEWSLETTER ​ ​ “Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ” ~ RB 72.11 July 2018 Edition 4, Volume 5 ​ ​ “Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ” ~ RB 53.1 race to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. To all God’s beloved here in Florida and ​ to all hearts dear to us in Cistercian charity through our fraternity with the Monastery of the Holy Spirit, who are called to be saints. Hospes Begun on June 15, 2018 This was not the point of departure I had in mind when I was inspired to do an article on Hospitality, that had actually ​ occurred to me June 9th on the bus trip home from my monthly sojourn to and from the east coast for our June Gathering in Boca Raton what it was I don’t clearly remember but it had nothing to do with anything of a political nature. The other day I had posted a photo in honor of my Dad for Father’s Day on my Facebook page, an old college buddy of mine responded with the following post. “I will always remember your parents. Always made you feel at home and part of the family. ( I ) Remember a conversation I had with your Dad on what to do after graduating college. He was very insightful and down to earth. Still sticks with me!” Well, perhaps I should just stop now. This for me this was, ground zero,“Charity begins at home.” I’m am grateful to my heavenly Father for the gift of my parents who apparently were paying attention when they heard the desire of our Lord when he spoke through Moses to the people of Israel, ”And these words that I ​ command you today shall be in your heart. And you shall teach them diligently to your children, and you shall speak of ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ them when you sit at home, and when you walk along the way, and when you lie down and when you rise up.” ​ ​ ​ ​ My parents were not perfect, but their listening to the word of God and hearing the core of his teaching and their ability to look beyond the window dressing was apparently a grace they had received in their hearts and gave to life in their living. As I recollect my life with them countless memories flooded past me of hospitality to their peers, to friends, family members, my classmates and most of all to strangers. But, I’d like to share another story, not one of my family but one of a friend, a dear pastor Msgr. Earl V. Provenza of Shreveport, La. Upon graduating seminary Vincent was chosen for the job as chauffeur to the then Bishop of the Diocese of Alexandria -Shreveport in Louisiana, Charles Pasquale Greco. ​ Later, Fr. Provenza would become an associate pastor and a marathon runner, the lover of a good steak, pastor, and the upon retirement of the first Bishop of the Diocese of Shreveport he was elected by his fellow priests as Diocesan Administrator and as a parting gift the good bishop William B. Friend gifted Father Provenza with the pastorate of his childhood parish Holy Trinity. Vincent was the his given name at Baptism but his family called him Earl. Earl came from a rather large (nine brothers and sisters) immigrant, Catholic family. Monsignor Earl once reminisced that as a child treats were rare and leftovers had to be spoken for or else they would end up going to someone who spoke up first. One evening after enjoying a family dinner of his mother's spaghetti and meatballs the young Earl ask permission for a single leftover meatball, looking forward to having it for lunch the next day. Being of preschool age at the time Earl still enjoyed that holy leisure of childhood, staying home all day. The next day at some point late in the morning there was a knock at the front door, little Earl accompanied his momma to the front door and there stood a man, rather shabbily attired and when the housewife inquired his business he said, he was “hungry.” Asking him to wait there she left the man at the door, the boy followed his mother into the kitchen where she got a brown paper bag and some wax paper out of a drawer, setting them on the table, she picked an apple at hand and put it in the bag, turning she opened the icebox door. Reaching into the cool of the box mama Rosa retrieved a 6 & ½ ounce bottle of Coca-Cola and the plate on which sat the “Earl’s” lone meatball. Rosa wrapped the meatball in the wax paper and placed it in the sack with the apple and a slice of white bread, she opened the Coke and and carefully replaced the cap. Taking the bag and bottle she headed back through the house to the front door. Curiously young Earl followed along, wondering how could she do this? After all he had called dibs on that tasty morsel that she had so lovingly made with her own hands and now was going to give it to someone else! Mrs. Provenza opened the screen door and presented the stranger with the bag and the Coke, lowering his eyes he said, “Thank you, mam, turned and proceeded down the steep steps to the street below. Feeling let down Earl tagged behind his mother to the kitchen and enquired, “Momma, who was that man?” Rosa turned and looked down at her son and said one word, “Jesus.” Surprised in one quick turn Earl spun around and headed toward the screen door, out to the porch and down the steps as fast and yet as careful as his little legs would allow. Reaching the curb he began to look around hoping to catch sight of the “holy” visitor but the streetscape was empty. Here too, the passing on of our faith finds no complication as it does in the myriads of articles concerning this month’s topic and the research for it. The links of which you can find in the “Interesting Reads” section of this newsletter. ​ ​ ​ Long ago after our Father of all being sowed his seed of goodness and before our turning away and even after, that seed ​ fell on fertile souls and began to sprout and grow ( Mk 4:26-34 ). Before the great distraction of the snowballing lie that ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ pervades humankind unto this day and has obscured many relationships and in particular that “one thing” that matters most, ​ ​ before the barriers of ethnicity, language, culture and the days of organized religion, there were those who were aware that, “We must give and be generous because this is how God is and God’s giving knows no limit.” God’s hospitality saturates each page of His story. God serves as host to humanity as the one who provides food and clothing for all ( Gen 1:29-30; 2:9; 3:21; Psalm 104:10-15; 136:25). God particularly cares for the alienated person ( Exodus ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ 22:22-24; Deut 10:17-18; Psalm 145:14-16; 146:9). ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ As with most things where the sacred desire or presence of God is made manifest man feels the urge and sometimes is compelled by the Divine to memorialize or ritualize the occurrence which in most cases over time makes for a watered down version of what should be a recognized as a sacred moment in time but ends up a battle over what are the “rights” of others or the expectations of reward for fulfilling what is only by first nature true to “image and likeness.” Here in the United States you can hear people reminisce about the “good ole’ days” when people walking down the street and would greet one another even if it was only a simple nod of their head or doff one’s headwear to friend or stranger. So bad has it become whole industries have ”invested” millions of dollars teaching hospitality or the act of being nice because one's paycheck depends on it. Even congregations and parishes go to great length touting “All are welcome” as an invitation to the disenfranchised, and marginalized yet only to warn their congregants not to give to the professional beggars who frequent the stoops and parking lots of their holy ground. Please, to those whose job it is to provide charity don’t get you socks in a wad, I am very familiar with such scams perpped by con men and gypsies. Rather than offer more on my background regarding that particular subject which would require me to take you on a trip to Rome, and then back to when I was a parishioner at Holy Trinity (which is located downtown and was in close proximity to the Greyhound Station) and to stories of living among the homeless and men who were parolees. But let’s save that for another time. Note: the Greyhound station 1 has now relocated to a transportation hub close to the police department. But I digress. Let us look at piece ancient wisdom from St. John Chrysostom and though he speaks about almsgiving John calls almsgiving “the salvation of the soul.” “For this reason, just as washing basins are found before the church doors filled with water so that you may wash your hands, the ​ poor sit outside of the church so that you may wash the hands of your soul. Have you washed your physical hands with water? Wash the hands of your soul with almsgiving.