Fr. Frank Majka, SJ – The Bridge

Sign of Autumn

Lost and Found

This past weekend I was reunited with two things I thought I’d lost. The first was my planner, that indispensable book by which I keep my life more or less organized. On Saturday I couldn’t find it, so for more than an hour I frantically searched my bedroom, office, and car but came up empty. Finally I said to myself, in the words of a friend of mine who often says such things, “When what you have lost wants to be found, it will find you.” Not less than two minutes later I walked by my car and there was the planner, sitting on the dashboard. I’d focused so much on the front seat and the floor that I’d never even looked at the dash; but when I relaxed I saw it.

The second reunion was with the Bible I’d lost in March. Actually, it had been stolen, along with all the other things in my briefcase, in Kansas City. I figured it was gone for good; but the same day I found my planner, a package appeared in my mailbox with a Kansas City postmark. The Bible was inside, undamaged and in the same blue box it had been in when it was stolen. My friend would probably have said that my Bible must have gone to a lot of work to get back to me, finally finding someone willing to spend six dollars to send it back to me.

But whether it had been through my own calming down or the unexpected kindness of a stranger, I recovered things I’d lost. And, to be candid, I think that my prayers to St. Anthony probably had something to do with it, too.

Pattern

Seeing Stars

The man I saw in the LA airport lounge recently looked relaxed, but the people twenty feet away were very excited as they talked among themselves and pointed to him. Finally, one of them approached and said, “Excuse me. Aren’t you _____?” I didn’t hear the name or recognize him, but I gathered he was some sort of TV or movie star.

Two things struck me about this episode. The first was this famous person didn’t look that different from anyone else. He was just another traveler waiting to board his plane, unless, of course, you knew something about him. Then seeing him was something special.

The second was that no other people in the room were getting the same attention. No one was pointing excitedly at them. No one was asking for their autographs or the favor of shaking their hands. Of course that’s understandable. After all, we aren’t all stars.

Or are we? God seems to think we’re pretty special, having created each one of us in his image and likeness. Shouldn’t each one of us should be appreciated for that and shouldn’t we do the same to everyone else in return? For the fact is, in God’s eyes, we are all stars.

Rainier — Queen of the Great Northwest