Dear Friends:
When I was newly graduated from college, I went to work for a relatively small community bank on the East Side of St. Paul. I had been an economics major in school and this seemed to be a pretty good fit as a first job. I still had much to learn, though I didn't know it at the time.
For one thing, I learned that economics is not the same thing as accounting or business training, and I'd never had a single course in either of those latter two fields. Words like "debits" and "credits" were completely unfamiliar to me when I strode into the bank for my first day at the desk. I didn't know what I didn't know. I knew in theory what a concept like "interest" was, but I didn't know how to calculate it on anybody's deposit or loan accounts.
Nor did I know what life could be like for people who habitually live on the brink of insolvency because I'd had no experience with that either. But I met them at the bank. And I didn't know of people whose lives were so lonely that they enjoyed coming in to spend a few hours just sitting in chairs in the bank lobby because people knew them by name there. And I didn't know that there were people who would look right at you and lie about their financial condition. I met them too. I was taught a lot during those few years, including about myself, and about what I had yet to learn.
Today, the building where the bank was is long gone. It's now a park. In fact, it's in the back yard of the Chancery office building of the archdiocese, so I'm flooded with memories from nearly 40 years ago about people and situations whenever I drive over there for meetings. But somewhere along the line, I began to think that I didn't have much more to learn about my work or my ministry. That's a big mistake.
I've always remembered a quote by psychologist Viktor Frankl in his classic book, Man's Search for Meaning, in which he describes his time in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. He spoke about how he could recognize in advance those prisoners who had given up and would soon die. There was something about their no longer being willing to imagine a future that was different from the present. Frankl said, "The one who thinks he is finished, is finished." I think we could roughly translate that sentiment as, "The one who thinks he/she has nothing more to learn, will learn nothing." Being aware of what we don't yet know is a gift and a summons.
Fr. Mike Byron
PARKING LOT MASS PARKING CREW NEEDED
We are developing a crew of people to assist people in getting parked for our Parking Lot Mass each Sunday at Door #4. We will begin this Sunday, January 17. The time commitment is two hours on Sundays. If you are interested in hearing more about this, please contact Sally Bergum at the parish office at sbergum@paxchristi.com
or 952-405-7229.
CLICK ON IMAGE BELOW FOR A VIDEO MESSAGE FROM FR. MIKE