Modeling the Divine

by Friar Sandy Pires

The sense that miracles are possible has led me to explore beyond my own yard, and helped me to meet new people and see places I wouldn’t know were possible. Visions and possibilities of who God is to each of us are as unique and mystical as each fingerprint is slightly different, created just for us, and each wonderfully executed snowflake just simply is. My family is catholic. All our family went to a mass on most Sundays and holidays. I spent time on the weekends with both sides of my grandparents. I would often go to their mass with them. In church, I heard about having a calling, and getting a message. It led me to wonder what that might look like. A message, from whom? When I asked a parishioner after church about how I’d know if I’d received one, they told me that; you will know if it happens to you.

One weekend, many years ago I went to visit my cousins in Fall River and we drove out to La Salette Shrine. I don’t remember much about the place, but the feel of the property had a new quality, one that I’d never experienced before. It was quite soft and light. I didn’t want to go when we had to leave there that night.

We moved around a lot. I had a few timely experiences with new friends I met in school. They shared their faith with me and offered for me to join their family and try out their religious services. I was curious how each religious group prayed. One friend, a neighbor in Sandwich Ma, my age invited me to go to a Lutheran service at her church. I went with her and enjoyed it, so different than ones I’d been to. I tried a Baptist summer camp, spent more time with the word in the Bible, then I went to temple with another friend, and had a Cursillo weekend. That experience made a dent in my heart. The divine was starting to be a seed there I was coming aware of. I felt the depth in people's sharing. Also, the sweet Christian music touched my heart. One was about Eagles wings. I made some new friends. One school friend invited me to let Jesus into my heart and he came. He was with me there for a while.

In college, I spent a lot of time at mass, many mornings before classes. Going to mass too helped my studies. Father John Dean was a chaplain at our college. At the time I didn’t know he’d previously been a teacher and much more before taking his orders. He was an outgoing, good listener. On our campus, he was very well known and really in touch with us students. He often lent a hand, would help students pay for supplies, and he came out at night to the bars we went to, giving a word and seeing if anyone needed help. He might check on people to see if they were okay to drive, call them a cab. I got to spend a little more time with him when he came to visit our neighbors across the hall. We had group dinners and when he came, he would add creative mealtime prayers.

One thing I recall that happened a few times at his mass was instead of him saying a sermon or giving a talk he asked us to be silent during the communion part of service. I see now that he was involved with a lot of churches and had friends to pray for from all the places he’d been over the years. Every student he encountered he touched somehow. His commitment was palpable. When I searched him online recently I saw that he had passed some years back.

Having an example, a teacher or friend to model a space of the divine can be helpful. They don’t need to be perfect. Some years later I went back to a church, to a mass, in Tiburon as a few of my friends were going back to the church and to mass. I figured that I’d have a confession to see what had changed in the church since I’d been away. If it was time to go back.

First, I went into the wrong door. I didn’t see the lights over the door or know what they were for. When the priest came in, he sat right down next to me. I realized my mistake. He was a young guy, quietly passionate. He’d recently served in the gulf war. I asked if he was there as a minister. He said no, he went as a soldier. We talked and he prayed for me. I was curious what he felt when he said the prayer. I felt the energy and his conviction. He said, he knew it was God and that he trusted him to be there when he prayed.


Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies. Psalm 103:4

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