The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  It was well over a year later when she was going through the chest again that she noticed the glint of a tiny silver metal protruding from the envelope. It not only caught her attention, but this time also her curiosity. She pulled out the metal object from its paper chamber and was so surprised to see a pewter angel with a beautiful inscription on the bottom, “Watch over my beloved.”

  “Yes,” Mary said as she returned to the present moment, this is truly an angelic letter with its own destiny in mind. Mary could almost see the metal wings fluttering inside trying to deliver its heartfelt letter to its loved one.

  Mary gazed at the letter. She noted the bobby pin she had slipped over the opening that was made when she retrieved the angel from the envelope. She wondered if she should tape the slit shut, but thought the bobby pin looked secure and decided to leave it.

  Mary got up, picked up the envelope and before any doubt could enter her mind she picked up the phone and called the gallery.

  “Pederson Art Gallery.”

  “Hi Henry, I’m glad you answered the phone.”

  “Hi, Mom. It’s nice to hear from you! What’s up?”

  “I thought I’d call and invite you over for lunch next Tuesday or Wednesday. The garden vegetables are just about all ready to harvest and I know how much you like borscht soup. Are you free one of those days?”

  Henry checked the calendar, “Yeah, Wednesday will work fine, Mom.”

  “Good.” And to make sure she would follow through, she committed herself, “There is something I want to show you and give to you that I should have a long time ago.”

  “Oh? What is that, Mom? What do you have for me?”

  Mary looked at the glowing letter long and hard and then placed it in her apron pocket. She could feel the warmth of the love in the letter instantly against her thigh.

  “It will wait till then, but you remember the borscht I made for you before you and Julean got married?”

  “I’ll never forget the borscht that day, Mom, it was something else.”

  “Well, I want you to know, Henry, when you come next Wednesday, you will taste the best borscht you have ever eaten. Even better than that day. I want it to be a reminder of how much I love you, son!”

  Henry was taken back by the fervour in his mom’s voice…

  “I can hardly wait, Mom, and I love you with my whole heart, too!”

  Mary beamed as she hung up the phone. A peace that swept through her now made her feel so light she thought she would fly any moment just like the pewter angel inside the pink envelope.

  Suddenly the door bell rang. As she made her way to the front door she saw her neighbour standing just outside the screen door.

  “Well, good morning, Rose, it’s so nice to see you.”

  “Hi Mary, My husband, Tom, sent me a dozen roses this morning as it’s our twelfth anniversary today!”

  “Congratulations, Rose, and what a beautiful gift from Tom.”

  “Yes, since we got married he has sent me a rose or roses for the number of years we have been married. He always says a rose for my Rose. Sweet, huh?’

  “Yes, it is Rose, very thoughtful, indeed.”

  “When I opened the bouquet the florist delivered I noticed they had sent an extra white rose. I noticed it immediately because it was amongst the other red roses. I counted them and sure enough it was an extra one beside the twelve that were there. Immediately a thought came to me that I should bring it to you. So here it is? Are you celebrating some kind of anniversary today too?”

  Tears surfaced instantly in Mary’s eyes as she held the beautiful white rose. She recalled how the Novena to St Therese got started was when a Jesuit prayed to the saint to grant him a favour. He also prayed that she send him a freshly plucked rose as a sign that his prayer had been heard. On the third day of the Novena someone sought the priest out and presented him with the rose.

  “Oh Rose, that is so lovely. You have no idea what this means to me. In a way I am celebrating an anniversary. Twenty four years ago to this day, I made a decision which I thought was for the best. Time however proved me wrong and that choice has held me captive since that time, until today. Today, I chose to rectify that decision. This is a gift from “The Little Flower” as a sign my prayer has been answered.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The Sunday following Father Engelmann’s anniversary something happened at the ten o’clock mass that many called a miracle. It was both powerful and life changing not only for those present in the congregation, but also for Father Engelmann. A seed of change was planted in Father’s heart that would have him begin to consider something that most parishioners thought would never happen nor hoped would ever happen; retirement.

  Father’s youthful enthusiasm, his health, his looks, his burning passion for the Lord was always like someone who was just born again and would go on forever! But this morning, God, revealed that none of us is indispensable and even God’s most devoted disciple has his day under the sun. If fact, Father often spoke that he was replaceable. That he was simply a man of God through which He could work. He was simply a vessel to be used by the good Lord for His purposes.

  Usually, either Father Engelmann or Father Knuka said the mass. They developed a rotating schedule which gave a clue as who would be at which mass each Sunday. As expected, Father came out of the sacristy to say this morning’s service but what wasn’t expected was Father Knuka’s presence when it came time to read the Gospel for that particular Sunday. Usually a parishioner would do the first and second epistle readings and then Father would get up, come to the podium and read the Gospel.

  The congregation was both surprised and perhaps disappointed when Father Knuka went to the pulpit to read the Gospel.

  Would he be giving this morning’s homily?

  Henry could feel an uneasiness sweep through the church. He knew deep down the parishioners much preferred Father Engelmann’s homilies over Father Knuka’s. But they were all in for a big surprise. For that morning something so miraculous happened that the words uttered by Father Knuka touched their hearts and souls just every bit as good as Father Engelmann’s, if not more, right from the beginning of his homily to the very end.

  “My dear brothers and sisters in Christ. I asked Father Engelmann if he would allow me to do this morning’s homily and if he would be present while I did so. I never explained to Father why I wished to do this and in his usual kind accepting manner simply nodded as if to say, ‘as you wish.’”

  Father Knuka moved the Holy Bible aside exposing the usual notes he read. Over the years parishioners noted that there were usually four to six pages and many times wished it was the former.

  A clue that this morning’s homily would be different was the way Father Knuka looked out to the congregation and in a manner that was similar to how Father Engelmann tried to make eye contact with all those present. In Father Knuka’s effort to do so, his survey of the people grew longer than usual and began to create uneasiness amongst those present. Even Father Engelmann raised an eyebrow towards his fellow colleague. Finally, he spoke. “Before I came to St. Mary’s church four years ago I prided myself in my homilies. I read scripture daily and was pleased with the way I explained it to the people. In a sense, I revelled in my superior insight into the teachings of God.

  “And then, to my good fortune, the Archbishop transferred me to this parish to assist Father Engelmann. When I heard Father’s first homily I was not only impressed, but moved. Every now and then, I too had a singularly good homily, and I thought this was one of those times for Father Engelmann. But I was wrong. His next homily was equally profound, and so was the next, and then the next after that.

  “In fact I was so touched by his homilies, I would come into the sacristy and open the door slightly and listen. Surely he had to have an occasional miss, but it never happened. Each homily touched and moved me even more so th
an the congregation. I was amazed how the Holy Spirit moved through him. His homily at the nine o’clock mass was at times almost completely different than at the twelve o’clock mass. It was as if he were speaking words to members of the congregation that they needed to hear in a different or new way!

  “In sharing the same house with Father, I came to see what faith was really all about. Whether Father was saying the mass, giving a homily or just living his everyday life, I noticed in Father a complete submission to Jesus. Father has given his will completely over to the Lord. He is will-less, real, authentic, and gives all glory and praise to God. There is no self pride in Father Engelmann, but rather a sincere humble man that has complete trust and faith in Jesus.

  “What Father Engelmann has taught me my friends is that in the same way Jesus was obedient to God the Father even unto death on the cross, so too, is Father Engelmann obedient to Jesus and through Him to the Father. “When I see Father stand here Sunday after Sunday and witness how his faith touches your hearts, I see what it is that I lack. While my relationship with Jesus and God is from the head, Father’s relationship is from all his mind, all his heart, all his soul and all his strength. His relationship has grown so close to God that he fulfills Jesus’ two great commandments perfectly.

  “My dear friends, I see little value for me to stand in front of you Sunday after Sunday and spout an intellectual analysis of scripture that carries no real faith. You see, we all have a spiritual side that recognizes a true spirit when it is touched by it. The love that is within the core of each of us is moved by the light of real faith and true love. It can’t help, but to touch our heart.

  “This is the lesson I learned from my dear brother in Christ. He has made the journey from the head to the heart many years ago and it is my sincere desire to make that same trip now.

  “And so, my brothers and sisters in Christ, as Father Engelmann would say, I stand before you naked today. I am a proud man, but I want to be humble. I want to be authentic and true to God and to you. I want to submit myself completely to Jesus. I want to trust Him with all my heart and exude a burning faith that lights a fire within you as well. I am of no value to myself or you if I don’t reflect the real Jesus within my heart.”

  With that Father Knuka tore up his notes.

  “I stand before you now and wait for the Holy Spirit to come into my heart as he does with Father Engelmann Sunday after Sunday to give you inspired homilies. The Holy Spirit entered the hearts of the apostles as well at Pentecost and look how this small group became the spark that changed the lives of mankind. This is my hearts desire, and if I don’t receive this gift of faith today, I will come Sunday after Sunday and stand before you until the Lord touches my heart.

  “I ask all of you to please bow your heads and pray for me that I may follow in the footsteps of Father Engelmann. For then I will be ready to touch your spirit as a true shepherd of God that is really ready to lead and guide his flock.”

  What the people were about to witness was a revelation that equalled where most of them were at in their relationship with Jesus as well. Through Father Knuka’s honesty and exposure of his heart before them, they saw into their own hearts and saw what they needed to do to be authentic Christians too. They realized there is a huge difference between a superficial faith, a showy self-righteous faith that the Pharisees exhibited, a self-centred faith mainly concerned with one’s own needs, a going through-the-motions type of faith by mainly attending church on Sundays and a faith that is based on a deep personal relationship with Christ. A relationship in which one’s exterior life is at one with one’s interior.

  Henry’s heart went out to Father as he stood there waiting for something to happen. But what? Tears surfaced and sat on the edge of his eyelids as he empathized with Father. Before him was a man who desired to come and commit himself to Jesus. Henry had often thought of that too, but never followed through at this level and would he even have the courage to do what Father was doing?

  Father was showing to Henry and to all of them how a real, authentic relationship is formed. Coming to Jesus with a sincere desire to know Him, to love Him and to serve Him.

  What a powerful blessing it was to those present to witness such a transformation taking place before them. It was the perfect example of what must happen in their hearts as well. There, before them were two priests; the one fully alive in Christ and the other desiring that life as well and exhibiting a leap of faith to do so.

  Father Knuka was now trusting the Lord with all his heart and no longer leaning on his own understanding!

  The scripture Henry had heard and read so often gained new meaning:

  ‘Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be open unto you!’

  Father Knuka remained standing there, his head bowed. Father Engelmann’s head was bowed as well, his lips moving. If a pin dropped at that moment it would crash to the floor like an explosion. An expectancy was growing. Henry could feel his prayers joining with other parishioners, a power was building.

  Henry looked up and looked from side to side. Every head was bowed, shrouded in a prayerful hush. Just the odd hand moving silently up to wipe away a tear from their eyes.

  The silence grew as Father waited; as the people waited, not sure for what it was. Nothing was coming forth and an uneasy nervousness began to steal away the expectancy of faith.

  Over five minutes had elapsed and then six…how long could this go on? Henry wondered. Would Father Engelmann get up and rescue, Father? No, Father Engelmann would not do that. His faith in God was so strong that he knew his Lord would come. And then…

  Father Knuka raised his head and a strange sound came from his lips. He began to babble words that made no sense and then he sang songs in those same words. It seemed like gibberish or another language, yet the melody was incredibly appealing.

  Slowly the people began to understand what was happening. God had rewarded Father Knuka’s trust and faithfulness.

  In front of his congregation, Father Knuka was given the gift of tongues and was filled with the power of the Holy Spirit.

  Henry recalled reading about that in Corinthians 12:4-11. Spiritual gifts are given by the Holy Spirit to believers enabling them to edify others and honour the Lord. Henry had always believed that Father Engelmann had received the word of wisdom through the Spirit because of his extraordinary ability to understand God’s word and His will and his ability to skilfully apply that understanding to life.

  After going on like that for well over five minutes, Father Knuka went on to give the most powerful sermon the parishioners had ever heard about trusting in the Lord. The part that stuck in Henry’s mind and heart the most was when Father spoke of coming to Jesus in childlike faith. Father used the analogy of a child standing on a ladder looking down on his father with open arms saying, “Trust me, son, jump!” It was exactly what Father did that day. He took a leap of faith and jumped ever so beautifully into Jesus’ waiting arms for all to see!

  When Father Knuka finished his homily he stepped down from the pulpit and was greeted with open arms by Father Engelmann. Both men had tears flowing down their cheeks. The congregation stood and clapped their hands; many with tears filling their eyes as well.

  That day was a Sunday that will forever be burned in Henry’s memory and he knew it would be in the minds and hearts of every parishioner fortunate enough to have been in attendance. The power of God was clearly demonstrated, but perhaps just as important it made the entire congregation look into their own hearts as well, to see how far short they were from really being committed to Jesus and entering fully into His light.

  It showed Henry once more how God’s divine providence constantly works through us and others to draw us back to Him. When we say, yes, thought Henry, like Father Knuka did today, we, too, will become faithful workers in the harvest.

  One day, I will make that leap of
faith.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jenny watched from the kitchen window as the two carpenters packed up their tools and then stood there admiring the cedar gazebo they had just finished building.

  The carpenters were highly recommended and worth waiting for. The gazebo looked so beautiful, she could hardly wait to sit in the swing that hung from the rafters, just like the one at the estate.

  Jenny went to the back patio door and shouted, “Mr. Carson, if you’d like, I can pay you now.”

  “That would be nice, we were just coming there to give you the invoice.”

  “I’m very pleased with the job you both did and it went up so fast.”

  “It’s because we built one exactly like that earlier this spring across town in the new north-west area. Apparently she had been dreaming of this gazebo for years and when she started to describe it to me, I could see right off it was just like the plans you gave me to study. When I showed her the picture she nearly keeled over. It was exactly the same as the one in her dreams.”

  “Really…? Jenny said, her eyes widening. And then she dared to ask, “Would her name be…Camilla Pederson?”

  “Why yes, and I was just going to say, she sure looks a lot like you—”

  “You can say that again,” interjected the other carpenter. “She’s the spittin’ image of you, ma’am. You two could easily pass for sisters…you don’t seem old enough for her to be your daughter.”

  Jenny was flabbergasted and didn’t know what to say…

  “Someone else told me that a few weeks ago. I am looking forward to meeting her some day.”

  “You better be sitting down when you do, she could almost pass for your twin.”

  “Her yard is much like yours, too,” said Mr. Carson. Not quite as many wildflowers and butterflies, but close. Seems to me you both not only look alike, but seem to think alike and have similar tastes.”