Phenom - Let's Play Basketball Page 8

Father Sean McGinnis was new to the community and this was his first assignment in the United States. After graduating from Regis Seminary School in Colorado, he had spent the six years as a missionary in remote parts of Africa spreading the gospel of the church. The first year he was shocked to see the deplorable conditions and watched as thousands died of illness and starvation while he spread the word of the Lord. He learned quickly that clean water, medicine and food were needed most and turned his efforts to building an infrastructure to help his people survive. An engineer by background, McGinnis used his training and the resources of the church to dig fresh water wells, create irrigation systems for the crops or construct a dam to power electric generators. He oversaw the construction of a rudimentary sewage system adopting concepts first used by the Romans in 300BC. The people trusted him and he soon commanded an army of willing workers.

  Schools and hospitals came next, with an emphasis on educating both children and adults in basic principles of personal hygiene and every-day, practical matters. Children were taught about germs and why it was important to keep their bodies clean. Adults were trained about the importance of vaccinations against smallpox, malaria and the diseases that ravaged their people. He was rewarded by an overwhelming participation in the hospital’s immunization program.

  A trade school was established for exceptional students that grasped basic engineering concepts that Father McGinnis used in his public works projects. These students received advanced training and were sent out into the surrounding communities to oversee the digging of more wells, planting of more crops and building of more schools and hospitals.

  Father McGinnis was tireless in his efforts and seemed to be everywhere offering direction and support. “He is not like any of the others,” a tribal chieftain commented. “The others talked about their God, but didn’t take care of our stomachs.”

  This was not entirely true, but Father Sean as he was called, would have been pleased to hear this compliment. True, there were no religion classes taught in his school, but there were daily prayers thanking the Lord for His help in taking care of His people. There were prayers thanking the Lord for the food on their table, the blessings of new babies and prayers for the dead. There was no formal decree, but parents began having their children baptized under the name of the Lord.

  Word spread throughout Africa and nations sent emissaries to view the progress that was made and see what could be imported back to their countries. The need for teachers, doctors, nurses and skilled craftsmen was filled by an ever-increasing stream of volunteers from the western world, supplemented by the education and training of local tribesmen. Money poured in from international charities that finally could see concrete results from their contributions. Conversion to Catholicism was not a requirement, and in fact, several Protestant, Muslim and Hindu ministries established a presence, but with only limited success. The people knew that it was Father Sean and his God that was responsible for their good fortune and membership in the Roman Catholic Church grew at an unprecedented rate. Rome took notice.

  Father Sean was rewarded with a position at the Vatican where he spent two years rubbing elbows with the church hierarchy and became immersed in church theology and politics. After his six years in Africa doing hands-on work and seeing the tangible results of his labors, the two years at the Vatican were frustrating and boring. Exposure to Bishops and Cardinals, and several times even the Pope, was a tremendous opportunity to further his career within the church, but he couldn’t help seeing how far removed these church leaders were from the needs of their constituents. Father Sean stopped talking about his experiences in Africa because he could predict the glazed look that would come over their eyes after a few minutes. The Vatican hierarchy had no idea what he was talking about and couldn’t believe that a priest was actually involved in building sewers and latrines.

 

  Father McGinnis was 31 years old and happy with his current assignment as Vicar at St. Timothy’s Catholic Church in Shorewood, Wisconsin. Shorewood is a suburb just north of Milwaukee and only twenty minutes from his hometown of Wauwatosa. He had been there six months and met most of the regulars by attending men’s and women’s club meetings, fundraisers, jamborees and administering to the sick. He was beginning to feel comfortable in his role and believed the parishioners were starting to trust and confide in him. It wasn’t as exciting as Africa, but it was God’s work.

  Saturday night he had worked on his homily until midnight and felt prepared. The readings were from the book of Revelation sometimes referred to as The Apocalypse of John, from the New Testament. It was a favorite subject of his and vital to church doctrine. It also provided much of the basis for the schism between Catholics and Protestants. He had spent hours debating alternative interpretations with his peers in Rome. Was the Catholic Church the Antichrist referred to in the Revelation? It was a complex and difficult subject, particularly when he only had 10 minutes.

  He made his entrance at exactly 8:00AM, preceded by two altar boys carrying the cross and the bible, and took his place at the side of the altar. Before starting the familiar litany of the Catholic mass he greeted the congregation. “Good morning, I’m Father Sean McGinnis.”

  “Good Morning, Father,” the response came back.

  “That wasn’t as enthusiastic as I might have hoped, but I’m sure some of us had a long night and are still trying to wake up.” The light laughter told him he was right on with a few parishioners.

  “In the name of the Father and …” he began, starting into the familiar litany of the mass before realizing that there was a murmur going through the congregation as a tall, young man walked into the church and took a seat in a middle pew next to his parents. People whispered and pointed as the young man kneeled and said a private prayer before sitting back in his seat. Most priests would have ignored the interruption and continued with the service, but Father McGinnis had a playful streak and decided to have fun with the boy. “Young man, what’s your name?”

  “Matthew Wilson, Father.”

  “Matthew, you seem to have everyone’s attention, perhaps you would like to give the Homily today.”

  Matthew looked directly at Father McGinnis for several seconds attempting to read what was behind the offer. Later Father Sean would say that he felt the boy was reading his soul. “I would be honored. The controversy surrounding John’s book of Revelation is an exciting and provocative subject that is core to our beliefs.”

  The boy had called his bluff, and from the response of the congregation it was obvious that they wanted to hear the boy speak. Father McGinnis had no choice. “I suggest we wait until after the readings in order to provide the proper context,” Father Sean suggested, “if that meets with your approval.” His Irish temper wouldn’t be completely suppressed.

  Matthew smiled and nodded his agreement.

  Father Sean’s mind wandered as he mechanically repeated the opening prayers. The boy looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place the face. Where had he seen him before? At his first opportunity he whispered to the altar boy on his left; “Who is this Matthew Wilson?”

  “Basketball player; Shorewood High School; front page of sports section yesterday.”

  Everything fell into place for Father Sean. That’s why the parishioners recognized the boy. He had seen the article and had marveled at the poise Matthew had shown and the way he had handled defeat. Father Sean had also noticed a small side bar that described the fan reaction, particularly the part about a man getting out of his wheelchair to applaud. His wife claimed he hadn’t stood for almost fifteen years, much less walked. “It was a miracle,” she told the reporter.

  The first reading was from Revelations 13, describing The Sea Beast arising from the sea demanding that the multitudes worship him. The Beast receives power from Satan, referred to as the Dragon.

  The second reading from Revelations 17, described the coming of the seven angels who carried the seven bowls and said; ‘Come, I will show you the judg
ment of the great harlot … Babylon the great, the mother of harlots.”

  The final reading delivered by Father Sean addressed the Destruction of Jerusalem and the 2nd Temple, by the Romans in A.D. 70, introducing the question of whether John was talking about what happened (Preterism) or what will happen (Futurism).

  Father Sean looked up when he was finished and gestured for the young man to come forward. He took his seat and watched with interest as the boy approached the podium, marveling at the boy’s composure and presence. There was complete silence interrupted only by a baby’s loud crying in the third pew, which ceased immediately when the boy stopped and put his hand on the baby’s forehead and whispered something in his ear. “Who is he?” Father Sean wondered.

  He watched and listened in awe as the boy spoke, marveling at his ability to bond with the congregation. He scanned the crowd and realized that each person was concentrating, and digesting his words. There were none of the telltale signs of restlessness and boredom that public speakers recognize. The boy had their complete attention.

  His sermon was well thought out and his argument based upon what he believed were misinterpretations of the scripture, passages that Father Sean had often questioned. He was totally enwrapped in the boy’s argument when the boy suddenly concluded, exactly ten minutes after starting. His final message was; “Be prepared, the Apocalypse is coming soon and will be followed by the second coming of the Lord when All Nations will be judged.”

  The boy nodded his thanks to Father McGinnis and strode back to his pew as the congregation sat in silence, awed by what they had just heard and the power of the sermon. Father McGinnis was also in awe. It wasn’t just the message, but the way it was delivered and the reaction of the congregation. Father Sean was no stranger to leadership and possessed a gift for public speaking, but he had never witnessed a performance like this. Matthew Wilson was in total control of the congregation. Father Sean was smart enough to hold his own homily for another day.

  “Thank you Matthew, that was most enlightening,” he said before proceeding with the Apostles Creed, the next part of the liturgy.

  After mass ended and Father McGinnis stood outside the front door shaking hands with the parishioners as they exited the church. He kept an eye out for Matthew and wasn’t disappointed as Matthew and his parents stopped to introduce themselves.

  “Matthew, that was a beautiful homily. I was impressed by your insight into a complex subject.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Father. I realize I took away your time.”

  “That’s okay, but I would love to discuss the subject with you in more depth.”

  “Perhaps you would like to join us for dinner this evening?” Mrs. Wilson suggested.

  “I accept,” Father Sean said too quickly.

  Thus began a partnership and friendship that would have a profound effect upon Father Sean’s future with the Roman Catholic Church.

  At Matthew’s urging and with his full support, Father McGinnis started an inter-denominational youth group consisting of high school kids from the community. The first week there were 35 kids who met in the church youth room, but attendance grew to several hundred by week three as word spread that Matthew was active in this group and was urging his friends to attend. Most kids wanted to be his friend.

  The charter for the group was to obtain a better understanding of God, and Father Sean knew first hand from his missionary work in Africa that the Catholic Church did not hold an exclusive on this subject. Unlike many of his peers, he recognized that not all people that believed in God were Christians. He believed religious education and the values of the Christian Church would be better served by exploring all religious beliefs. Matthew was totally in agreement with this approach.

  “How many of you attended mass within the last month and can tell me the story of how Jesus Christ was crucified on the cross and later rose from the dead?” Father Sean asked the 35 kids who attended the first week. Most raised their hands.

  “Excellent, I’m sure most of you are good Christians, but let me ask you a few more questions. How many of you can tell me why Martin Luther broke away from the Catholic Church and started his own church?” About half the kids raised their hands.

  “How many of you have attended a Jewish Synagogue?”

  “How many have attended a Muslim service? How many have read the Koran?” No hands were raised as they began to realize how limited their knowledge was.

  “What can you tell me about Buddhism?”

  “Okay, that’s why we formed this group, to get answers to these questions, and more. To do this we need the participation of other religious groups. Are you with me?”

  Father Sean was a natural organizer and enlisted the help of the leaders of the major religions in the area. Rabbi Goldberg became an enthusiastic supporter and representative for the Jewish faith. Overtures were made to leaders of the small, but growing Muslim and Buddhist populations in the city. Meeting locations rotated between the various churches and other places of worship in the area. I attended several of these meetings and was impressed by the enthusiasm and knowledge of the kids. They were having fun and learning too. Sure, there were comparisons of biblical scriptures and interpretations of scripture, but there was a lot of one on one dialogue and humor. There was one dress-up day when representatives from each religion dressed up in the trappings of their forefathers. It was funny, but also a great teaching aid. I also remember well the ill-fated ‘science night’ when each religion was asked to discuss their attitude towards the Ark of the Covenant.

  “Next week we will discuss the Ark of the Covenant and its role in various religions. I want you to organize into four groups; Jewish, Muslim, Catholic and Protestant. Each group has 15 minutes to give us a little history and tell us what the impact would be of finding the lost Ark. Questions?”

  “Should we talk about the biblical accounts of Moses and Solomon’s Temple and stuff like that?”

  “Sure, but concentrate on the Ark’s influence on your religion and how it relates to current beliefs. I’ll give a 10-minute introduction and talk about Moses at Mt. Sinai and set the stage for your in-depth analysis.” Father Sean answered with a grin. “I’m challenging you to be creative.”

  “Can we use pictures and props?”

  “Sure, anything that helps get your point across. Okay, if there are no other questions, I’ll see you next week.”

  Until that day I had just assumed that the Ark was basically a Jewish concept and had not realized that the legend of the Ark was an integral part of the Muslim and Catholic religions as well. It was also the only time that I ever saw Matthew lose his temper.

  The evening started off well. Several students had constructed a full size replica of the Ark according to the instructions that God gave Moses in approximately 1250 BC while the Jews were camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai. The Ark was a box the size of a large tea chest approximately 50” in length, 30” in height and 30” in depth. It was constructed of acacia wood and plated with pure gold. On the bottom were four gold rings through which poles were inserted so that the Jews could carry the Ark. Covering the box was a pure gold covering and two Cherubs (angels) facing each other. The kids had carved the cherubs in wood working shop and sprayed the box with a metallic, gold paint. A tent was used to demonstrate how the Ark was housed in its portable Tabernacle for six centuries as the Jews wandered through the desert. They had done a wonderful job and the replica provided an excellent backdrop for the discussions. There would have been no problem if they had stopped there, but a few of them took it an extra step.

  The presentations went smoothly for the first hour as the groups used videos to briefly describe how the Ark was constructed, that it housed the two stone tablets containing the ten commandments; that it represented God’s physical presence on earth and was a means to communicate with man; and was used a weapon of war, notably at the battle of Jericho. The group responsible for describing the dangers of the Ark had the e
ntire audience in stitches as they acted out the problems that befall those that did not keep their distance from the Ark.

  “Luke, take a look in the chest.”

  “No. Moses says that we are not supposed too. It’s dangerous.”

  “Chicken.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are too. Cluck-cluck-cluck.”

  “Okay, but if there is any gold, I’m keeping it for myself.” Luke opened the chest and stuck his head inside. “See, nothing happened.”

  “The crowd roared in laughter as Luke turned around and his face was covered with measle-like spots.”

  I happened to glance over at Matthew and noticed he wasn’t smiling.

  The evening grew to a close as the various religions debated the role of the Ark in today’s religious beliefs and the impact of finding the Ark.

  Jews and Christians believe that finding the Ark will signify the coming of the Lord and will put great pressure on rebuilding the third Jewish temple on the original site at the Temple Mount which is now under Muslim control and is considered their 3rd most important Holy site.

  The Koran and hadiths, the oral traditions relating to the words and deeds of the Islamic prophet Mohammad, proclaim that the Mahdi will find the Ark of the Covenant in Lake Tiberias while other hadiths suggest it will be found in Antioch. Most Muslims agree that together with lost Torah scrolls, finding the Ark will be fundamental in educating Jews and converting the entire world to Muslim.

  The fascinating interchange was drawing to a close when smoke started rising from inside the Ark and it was encased by an eerie glow. A voice seemed to rise from the smoke.

  “Moses, this is the Lord. I’ll take the Packers in Monday night’s game” The smoke cleared showing a two foot statue of a goat standing atop the Ark with smoke rising out of its mouth.

  The reaction of the audience was mixed. My bible training was weak and I didn’t realize the full implications of what was happening, but I sensed something was terribly wrong. I found out quickly that my instincts were correct. Laughter rose from some of the kids, but they were interrupted by Father McGinnis who jumped to his feet and shouted; “Who is responsible for this blasphemy?”

  Matthew had also risen to his feet and from forty feet away I could see the outrage burning in his eyes. His voice was deadly calm and resonated throughout the church. “There is but one God. Who dares brings false idols into the House of the Lord?”

  I then witnessed something that I can best describe as frightening. Two jets of flame shot out from the Ark and the statue atop the Ark exploded into tiny pieces and the Ark itself set fire and gradually disappeared before my eyes.

  “Leave us,” Father Sean commanded, “and dwell upon what you have witnessed here tonight. Pray to the Lord for his forgiveness.” Outside the sky crackled with thunder and lighting and the heavens opened up with a torrent of rain and half-inch hailstones. I was thoroughly soaked and shivering when I reached my car, but I hardly noticed as I drove home in a daze.

  “Jim, are you all right?” Rosann asked as I walked in the door. “I was worried that storm came out of nowhere.”

  “Rosann, sit down and let me tell you what happened. Maybe you can make some sense of this?”

  It would be many years and several trips to the Holy Land before I began to understand the full significance of what had transpired that evening.

  Chapter 8 - Pep Rally