Wrestling With God

by Hanley, Don;

  April looked puzzled and said, "Have you been sleeping on the floor?"

  When the tour was over and the two men had put their suitcases in their rooms, Dan asked if he could have a few minutes with me. Rebecca asked Jack if he would like to walk around the neighborhood. April said she and Plato would like to go with them. Ruth went back home to get ready for her daughter and her friend. I was pleased that both men seemed to be at home with our house and our family.

  After everyone left, I told Dan that Rebecca and I were able to buy the big house because Rebecca had received a surprisingly large inheritance from her mother whom she had been estranged from for twenty years. Dan sat down in front of the fireplace. I threw in some kindling and a few logs and lit the fire. I sat across from my guest and said, "So, Dan, this is the first time we've had a one-to-one conversation."

  "Yes, that's why I wanted to have a few words with you. First, I want you to know that Jack and I have had many hours of talks over the past, oh, ten years. It started before I was appointed Master Sergeant of the guards. It has been awkward at times because he is still an inmate and I'm a guard, yet it has been easier since he finished his master's degree and has been counseling other inmates. He is now viewed more a part of the staff than just another prisoner. Anyway, he has changed my life, and I believe I can even say he has saved my life since my wife Mary died."

  Dan sat back in his chair. "Jack started his own, I guess you'd call it, spiritual journey, long before I came to Booneville." He chuckled and coughed a bit. "Back then, I was what Jack called a hard-ass. Jack said I was a John Wayne asshole—rough, tough, and didn't take no shit from anyone. At first, Jack really puzzled me. Here he was, a convicted murderer, but one of the most gentle, peaceful, and pleasant men I had ever been around. He had a way about him that was just amazing. Even back then, he was very much respected by the men. I don't know how many times I saw Jack wade into a group of men who were all set to tear each other apart—I mean really mean, tough guys who were street-hardened gangsters who would just as soon cut your throat as look at you. Jack would saunter into the melee and within ten, fifteen, minutes, he'd have everyone calmed down and even, sometimes, laughing."

  I was fascinated, "How did he do it?"

  "I wish I knew. Of course, I couldn't get into the scrum. I was a guard, an outsider. Several times, I asked, 'Jack, what do you do, or say, when you get into that hell?' He'd say, 'Oh, I just ask them, 'What's the problem?' And they'd tell me and I'd just make some suggestions. That's all.'" Dan shook his head. "Of course, I knew that wasn't 'just all' but I couldn't ever get him to say more."

  "So, how did you two get to be close friends?"

  "Spend time together. He was always reading. One day, I saw him reading a book called The Art of Loving, by a shrink named Fromm. I asked Jack about it and he handed it to me and said, 'Here, take it, I'm reading it for the second time, so I'm finished. Tell me what you think.' So I read it and we discussed it for hours. I even got my Mary to read it and she and I had long talks too. And so Jack would read a book and then loan it to me. There was one that Jack said changed his life entirely. I just couldn't get into at all. I can't even pronounce the author's name—I'll spell it out for you, T e i l h a r d de C h a r d i n."

  I was excited and blurted out, "Teilhard de Chardin's Phenomenon of Man, is that the one?"

  "You know about it?"

  "Oh, yes, it was the book that kept me in the seminary. It's about the evolution of consciousness. How all things have consciousness and humans are close to the top but we need to take the next big step—both within our individual lives and together as the community of humans."

  Dan lit up and said, "Yep, that's what Jack began to teach me. Then when Henry Bonhoeffer came to Booneville, Jack began to teach him. Jack read your wife's book on the two of you and told Henry and me that you two would understand what he was all about. So, you two are part of what we're working on now. You think this J.J. person will understand all this and be with us on it?"

  "Yes, I do. I think she has that kind of consciousness. And did you find it easy to change your own consciousness? I mean going from John Wayne to Teilhard de Chardin is quite a leap."

  "Yep, it sure was. And I'm still working on it. Jack counseled me through it by helping me work with Mary on our grief of losing our daughter." Dan began to cry. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes and continued. He got out his wallet and showed me a picture of his daughter when she was in high school. "Jack helped me realize that my love for Mary could continue on in my life after she died. Earlier, he had said that the love we had for our daughter could overcome our sin in rejecting her, which we did when she told us that she was a lesbian. We condemned her and kicked her out of our lives." He lowered his head and continued to cry.

  I sat silently with him for several minutes, until he raised his head and looked at me questioningly. I whispered, "Thanks, Dan, for sharing that with me. It must have been very painful."

  "Yes, it was ... and is. Because I couldn't even tell our daughter Eileen about her mother's death." Again tears fell down his cheeks.

  Dan and I continued to talk about the challenges of the prison project until Rebecca, Jack, April, and Plato returned. Rebecca asked Jack and Dan if there was anything that they wanted to see or do while they were in St. Louis, other than spend time with our family. One of Jack's requests was to be able to attend Christmas midnight Mass in a church that had a good choir. Dan had no particular request except that he and Jack had talked about not having a pizza for years. The pizza request was easily taken care of and we checked around and found out that the St. Louis Cathedral was the place to go for excellent music.

  Around five, Ruth returned with two attractive young women, her daughter Jan and her partner Eileen. I had met Jan before but not her partner. I got up to introduce myself and our two guests. Eileen, who came into the room behind Agnes, saw Dan. She put both hands over her face, froze, then muttered, "Oh, no!"

  I looked over at Dan and the shock on his face, as he almost shouted, "Oh, Eileen! Oh, my ... God." Everything seemed to move in slow-motion as Dan moved over toward the young woman. He looked like he might stumble and fall, so I moved close to him in case he fell. Dan gently reached out to Eileen who was still unmoving except for tears gently running down her cheeks. He softly said, "Uh, Eileen, I didn't know, uh, er, I am so happy to see you, and, uh, I didn't know how to contact you."

  Eileen looked around and, seemingly ignoring his words, said, "Where's Mom?"

  "Honey, your mother ... uh ... died four years ago. I didn't know how to let you know." Eileen began to really bawl and Dan joined her.

  I knew they needed to have some time together, so I said, "Dan, would you like a little privacy with Eileen?" Dan nodded and I turned to his daughter, "Why don't you two go into the den, right over here?" I pointed to my right. They both just turned and Eileen followed me into the room.

  Dan said, "Eileen, would you like for Jerry to join us, for uh, he's a counselor, you know?" She shook her head and I placed the two chairs in front of the desk so they faced each other. They sat down with their tears still flowing down their cheeks. I quietly closed the door.

  Jan, seeing the questions on everyone's face, said, "Please sit down and I'll tell you a little about Eileen and her dad.

  Jack came over and put out his hand. "Eileen, I'm Jack Carroll. I'm a friend of Dan's. He told me a little about his daughter and himself. I would like to hear more." Jack, obviously, didn't know if Agnes had told her daughter anything about Dan and Jack.

  Rebecca and I sat down on the couch and Jan and Jack sat near us. Jan began, "Here's a bit of what I know about Dan and Eileen's estrangement: When Eileen was a senior in high school she told her parents that she was a lesbian. They were, as you may know, very conservative old-fashioned Catholics." We all shook our heads. "Anyway, they had a real fit and told her that she was sinning and was going to go to hell and, I guess, went on and on about how evil she was to even mention
that she was not normal. They were sure that she must be mistaken and that she just could not be so sinful. They demanded that she immediately go see a priest and be forgiven and all that."

  Jan paused and looked around to see how we were taking it. She focused longer on Agnes, her mom, and continued, "Thanks, Mom, for accepting me when I told you I was a lesbian. My road was so much easier than poor Eileen's. I guess it was a real ugly scene and they ordered her out of their house and told her they would no longer consider her their daughter." She took a deep breath and blew it out and slumped back in her chair.

  Jack leaned forward in his chair, "I don't think Dan would mind if I told you that he shared with me that he and his missus had disowned their daughter and later how they realized how wrong they were. They never got her address and even thought that maybe she had changed her name. They had heard earlier that she moved to Chicago. That's all they knew. I know Dan tried real hard to find her when her mother died. I also know that Dan is no longer a law-and-order Catholic. He thinks that the worst thing he ever did was to reject his daughter for being gay." Jack exhaled and looked at the floor.

  "Thanks, Jack, for telling me that. I do hope that they are connecting in there now." Jan put a hand behind her ear and smiled, "At least I don't hear any furniture being thrown around."

  I turned to Rebecca and said, "Accepting homosexuality and going against what is considered orthodox Catholic teaching, takes a lot of courage, wouldn't you say, Jack?"

  "For sure. And I hope that they both know that we are pulling for them out here."

  Ruth, Jack and I said, "Amen." April, who was sitting on the floor with Plato and being surprisingly quiet, put her hands together and said, "Amen."

  Rebecca said, "I second that. I'm beginning to understand what you mean by wrestling with God."

  Agnes asked, "What does that mean, Rebecca?" "I'll tell you later, okay?" Agnes nodded.

  We all sat quietly for several more minutes. When Eileen and Dan came into the room, we saw Eileen's arm around her dad's waist and his arm over her shoulders. We took turns giving them hugs.

  For the thousandth time, I wondered when the Pope and other Christian leaders would wake up and start wrestling with God and searching for what is most life-giving and loving, rather than promulgating out-dated and non-life-giving rules about human sexuality.

  Chapter 6

  REBECCA

  I was the only non-Catholic with our Christmas Midnight Mass party. Jerry and I invited Dan and Jack to join Agnes and her visitors to join us. At the cathedral, we were joined by my closest friend, Helene, and her daughter Stephanie. Julie volunteered to stay home with April. Jack informed everyone that he planned to receive communion because it celebrated that all of us were connected in a spiritual union of love. Nearly everyone looked at Jerry for his reaction. My good husband very emphatically agreed with Jack and said he planned to receive communion and hoped all of us would join him because of the warmth and caring he felt with everyone.

  Helene was the only one who had ever attended Midnight Mass at the cathedral and encouraged us to get there early if we wanted to sit down. We arrived at 11:05 and only a few seats were available in the back of the church. The choir began singing traditional Christmas hymns only five minutes later. The choir looked to be about fifty-person strong and their music was enough to lift anyone's spirit—Catholic, other Christian, or no religion at all. It was fantastic. We all gawked around like the tourists we were. The cathedral was known for its wonderful array of mosaics. The setting and the music, I believed, was a fitting celebratory touch to the wondrous reunion of Dan and Eileen.

  The Mass servers began the procession down the center aisle, followed by four priests, and, in the final place of honor, came the Archbishop of St. Louis. It was a splendid show.

  The beauty and marvelous celebration was brought to an abrupt halt when the archbishop, after a time-honored explanation of the meaning of Christmas, took advantage of the large congregation to declare, "This Christmas, we celebrate the incarnation of Almighty God, and we grieve the fact that this year of Our Lord, 2015, the Supreme Court of our great country declared that gay and lesbian couples could be legally united in marriage." He went on to call it an abomination, sinful, and wrong in every way and must be reversed and condemned. I looked over at Dan, Jan, and Eileen. Dan's face was twisted in anger.

  As the archbishop kept on with his harangue, Dan quietly slipped out of the pew and walked toward the back of the cathedral. I thought he was leaving and then saw him walking up the left side aisle toward the altar. He stood near the pulpit which was several steps up from the sanctuary floor. Dan waited until the archbishop came down the stairs and headed for the celebrant's throne, then he walked up the few steps.

  Dan, being taller than the archbishop, raised the mike a few inches and said, solemnly: "Your Excellency, Archbishop, fellow Christians, I have a wonderful Christmas experience I would like to share with you. Twenty years ago, my wife and I agreed with everything the archbishop just said about homosexuality. And twenty years ago, our beautiful seventeen-year-old daughter told us that she was a lesbian." A priest and a layman moved toward the pulpit but the archbishop, to his credit, waved them away.

  Dan continued in a strong and even voice, "Thinking we were good Catholics at the time, we told her she was being sinful, and if she did not repent, she could no longer be our daughter. We disowned her. We completely lost her. Four years ago, my wife, our daughter's mother, died. I had no way to inform our daughter of our loss. Even before my wonderful wife died, a great friend, Jack Carroll, taught us that homosexuality is an orientation, not a choice. It is the way God makes some of us. They are blessed by God, and definitely do not sinfully choose to be gay or lesbian. They can and often do choose to be loving persons. Today, by chance or divine grace, I am visiting friends here in St. Louis. They invited their neighbor to join us for dinner. The neighbor's daughter brought her lesbian married partner with her." Dan paused, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes and with tears falling down his face, said, "Her partner is my beautiful daughter, Eileen, whom I had not seen in twenty years. I firmly believe that Jesus came into the world to bring love for everyone. And now I am celebrating the finest Christmas in my life—a Christmas I am sure is blessed by our Lord Jesus who manifests a loving God. I hope all of you have such a love-filled Christmas."

  I could not hold back, I stood and clapped. I was so proud to know this courageous man named Dan. Jerry and Jack stood and began clapping, as did Jan, Eileen, Agnes, Stephanie, and Helene. As far as I could tell, more than half of the entire congregation was giving Dan a standing ovation. I noticed that two laymen were talking with Dan. Dan shook their hands and with his head held high, a big smile on his face, and with tears flowing down his cheeks, he walked down the center aisle. People reached out to touch his hands, some shook a fist, but Dan just walked on. Jerry and I moved so Eileen would be the first to give him a hug. "Thank you, Daddy. That was sooo wonderful. I love you, and I have missed you so much."

  We all went to communion, thinking, knowing, I'm sure, that love can overcome all setbacks. I think I may become a surrogate Catholic—or maybe I already did by marrying Jerry. We deliberately joined the queue waiting to receive communion from the archbishop. When it came time for Dan to receive the communion wafer, the archbishop froze. I was standing right behind Dan and I heard him whisper, "Archbishop, I honestly believe Jesus would give me communion." The Archbishop hesitated a bit longer, then put the wafer in Dan's hand. My own hand was shaking as I received the wafer.

  Helene and Stephanie joined us at home to celebrate a wonderful Christmas with some wine, beer, and soda. I excused myself and went to our office to write a brief article on our cathedral experience.

  Christmas morning, we opened presents; most for April and Julie, but some for the four adults, including Dan and Jack. At breakfast, we began talking about the Mass and the better of the two sermons when the phone rang. I answered it and had to hold th
e phone away from my ear as Eileen nearly shouted, "Did you see this morning's paper?"

  "No, we haven't even ventured outside. What's up?"

  Eileen said, "If we can come over to your house, I'll pick up your paper on the way, Okay?"

  "Sure, come on over. What is it?" I turned to our living-room gathering and said, "Our neighboring trio are coming over and bringing the paper. Eileen sounded very excited."

  It took only a minute for the trio to open the front door and hand me the paper. I opened it and found the front page of the Metro section and read the lead headline out loud: STATE PRISON GUARD CHALLENGES THE ARCHBISHOP, with a smaller headline: 'After Archbishop condemns same-sex marriage, Guard Sergeant McGuire takes the podium and shares his reunion with his lesbian daughter—and gets standing ovation!'

  I read it out loud and added. "Wow! I didn't mention Dan's name. I wonder where they got it?"

  Both Dan and Jerry said, "Let me see that thing." I gave it to Jerry because he was closer to me. He read, 'Dan McGuire, head of the guards at Booneville, Missouri State Prison, while visiting St. Louis ...' It goes on and tells it pretty much the way it happened."

  Dan took the paper and after a quick glance, said, "It doesn't mention your last name, Eileen. Do you still use my family name?"

  Eileen seemed proud to announce, "Sure, Daddy, except it is hyphenated now: McGuire-Schmidt. I'm sure it won't affect my work in Chicago."

  The phone rang and Jerry got up to answer it. I heard him say, "Yes, Warden, he is here and we just finished breakfast." Of course, I couldn't hear what was said on the other end of the line, but I did hear, "Okay, I'll call you 'Henry' unless there is prison staff or personnel around. I'll put Dan on."

  Dan didn't sound nervous as he said, "Hi, Henry, Merry Christmas." Of course I could hear only Dan's side of the conversation. A brief moment later, "It was wonderful - the first Midnight Mass I have attended since Mary died." Then, "Yes, I just read this morning's Post-Dispatch. Rebecca Brady wrote most of it and sent it to a friend who is night editor at the Post. Rebecca didn't use my name, she said," After a short pause, "The archbishop called you? What did he have to say?"