This article is based on an expression used often to convey frustration, concern or to emphasize an urgent necessity of sorts. In other instances it’s used to underscore any given action or advice that would imply God’s blessings or grace. But in the vast majority of cases – especially in these fractured times – anyone might feel inclined to express something for God’s sake, regardless of their faith.
Up until a couple of weeks ago, I was firmly in the camp of that former category. Not because of a lack of religion, but because those caustic emotions being expressed have been on my mind a lot, and they share a communal exasperation that’s on the minds of a few hundred million people in the U.S. and abroad.
But then something happened.
Through a quirk of circumstance, I reconnected with a dear friend of mine named Phil with whom I had lost contact over 53 years ago. At that time, we were both seminarians studying to become Franciscan priests (obvious spoiler alert: neither of us hit that goal.) As we’ve been gleefully exhausting ourselves catching up with the adventures from our respective lives, we discovered several connective threads that reinforced the nature of a friendship that started when Phil and I were only thirteen years old. But we’ve also discovered a deep divergence in our corresponding past lives that revealed a few wonderful highs tied to dark and destructive lows.
Yet here we were, two “less younger” men reconnecting after so many years. Our collective memories from those seminary days have been enlightening to share as have been the various revelations concerning many of our friends from long ago. Some are still around, while others have passed away. But beyond the joys of reconnecting, this dear friend of mine had changed. My memories of Phil as this larger-than-life football hero with a mischievous sense of humor didn’t align with the man I was initially communicating with via emails. At first I couldn’t put my finger on it and for God’s sake, it was unnerving.
Then we had our first FaceTime call.
It was so good to see him, and he expressed that very same emotion. Phil’s big smile has been sculpted by age and experience but still conveys his huge, larger-than-life aura of love and friendship. It was also during this call that I saw the difference: At some point, life had dealt Phil several hardships that would have challenged even the biblical Job. Yet here he was: happy, grateful, and with a humility of spirit that reflected his greatest gift: Phil’s triumph over adversity for God’s sake.
Since that call, we’ve exchanged numerous emails; writing almost every day to share photos, insights, and memories from those adventures when we raised hell while in the service of God. His patience with us all those years ago is amply understood; God squeezes but doesn’t choke.
The other surprise that has come from this fortuitous reunion was a reconnection with my old English teacher, Mr. Bostic. For the two or three of you who read this blog, you may recall that name; I wrote a loving homage back in March of 2024 to celebrate the transformative gifts Mr. Bostic instilled in me, Phil and so many others. The one thing I wasn’t able to do was send Mr. Bostic the article to read; I was unable to find where he was living these days. But as luck – no, providence – would have it, Phil has been in contact with Mr. Bostic for some time. Fast forward several days later, and I was in touch with him.
Jack, as he prefers to be called these days, had traveled far from those dusty chalkboards, grueling assignments, and inspirational lessons. A picture he sent along showed him to be eighty years young; that roguish glint in his eye had not diminished with age; only matured with passion and experience. His correspondence spoke of a man with the same confidence and humility of spirit that Phil exhibited; one forged from choices made and gifts received for God’s sake.
Final Thoughts
On this coming September 5th, I will be observing the two-year anniversary of my beloved’s passing. A day hasn’t gone by that I don’t think of her, nor have those moments of abject sorrow and terrible despair lessened their grip on my heart. Healing takes time; it requires vigilance, humility, patience, understanding and resilience.
But during this incredibly transformative week, something amazing happened. First, the aura that both Phil and Jack radiated through their messages brought to mind a stark reminder of how easily it is to be swayed from one’s own faith and convictions – from whatever source they may be – to those implanted by rogue agents bent on destruction and disarray. Secondly, Phil’s lessons from the book of his life and his unwavering faith in the face of so many hardships revealed the rewards gained from an indomitable spirit, just as Jack’s thoughts on his life’s journey revealed a comfort and steadfast assurance brought on by the power of faith.
It dawned on me that despite my best efforts to the contrary, I had recently lost my faith in me. Over these many years, both Phil and Jack changed due to wildly different circumstances. Yet they each found love and a tranquility of spirit; one by rising from the ashes of despair, the other by having faith in what resided in his heart. They also changed the lives of so many others for the better, to include yours truly. They did so for many of the same reasons that help us heal from the pain of loss. But mostly, they changed for those whom they love; for those who helped them find the best way to celebrate their gifts of life for God’s sake.
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