It is 9 a.m. on a Friday in Santa Rosa Beach, FL.
Irean Haliday, 87, rides in the back of her car. Hemmed in with mature oaks, the olive-green tunnel is her favorite part of the drive home. The dappled light dances on her eyes, a soothing distraction from the thing she is trying to remember: what did that nurse say about how to use this inhaler? Baytowne.
Trevor Beaman, 42, and his wife, Sean, power through their daily CrossFit workout after dropping off the kids at school. Miramar Beach.
Shirtless Kyle Via smiles and makes the sign of the cross as he saunters across a green pasture to approach his bee hives. He lifts a rack out, covered in bees. Not ready yet. His girlfriend, Angie, across the field digs turmeric to prepare for tomorrow’s market. Defuniak Springs.
Dr. Ray Gutierrez, with a quick smile, takes on yet another complex pediatric case a nurse is begging for help with. Family members are vying for his attention outside the room.
Ascension’s Emergency Room.
Russel Brand plays with his youngest son on the beach, contemplating his innocence. A painful memory flashes. His little son underwent heart surgery not so long ago.
Seaside.
Andrew Ogma just finished scrambling a dozen eggs for his five kiddos and glances across the room at the rolls of raw leather he needs to get to work on to fill his next orders.
Niceville.
Michael Alarcon gets off the phone with another pro-life organization. Great connections, good work. Not that next substantial thing he's looking for though.
Destin
Paramedic, Alex Osorio, starts an IV on the construction worker who just fell off a ladder. He pushes ketamine. The plan changes. He pushes a paralytic and intubates.
Hammock Bay.
Lifeguards check their equipment and tune into their radios as they wait for the flag color to be called in. A marine fog still covers the horizon.
Ed Walline Beach Access.
Father Michael, pacific calm, Elevates the Host, “This is my Body.” Steve Parker kneels in the front row with a Luisa Piccarreta key chain sticking out of his pocket. Maria, a couple of rows back, veiled and wearing her red-rimmed glasses says under her breath, “O Jesus, I offer this communion for all souls. All souls my Jesus!”
St. Rita’s Catholic Church.
It’s a great big world out there! Yet the baptized faithful are intertwined in a mystical body, the body of Christ. The mass sustains our souls. It sustains our community. The effects of the mass are breathed into the entire body. Some pray, some suffer, others heal, and so on. Together we work towards The Lord's good designs.
Leading into this year, heavy on my heart was the desire to rekindle communitarian thinking and even collectivism within the bounds of subsidiarity. Catholics get the mystical body stuff, but building a community is like pulling teeth. At this moment in history, community is no longer an instinct. It's an age of individualism. On New Year’s Day, Father Raja delivered an excellent homily as usual. It was about the Theological virtue of Hope. He tied it into Erickson's developmental psychology; Hope being the first virtue we learn.
As I left Mass that day, I couldn’t help but say to myself, “Yes, yes, Year of Hope, but what are we hoping for!?” Like so many, I crave societal change. As I got into my Subaru, I knocked the radio knob on accident and the K-Love radio host came on. She said, “…and the best Hermeneutic for understanding Christ is community. Let us hope in the year 2025 that…” There we have it! Through the K-Love host, God finished the homily for me. This is my hope in 2025. No, I don’t want just deeper conversion. I want to engage the community more as a part of my deeper conversion. It never has been my first instinct for one reason or another.
Father Raja and I thought it would be a nice idea to share community stories of faith and life in this online blog. I'm practicing my writing skills. I have a book in the works. Father Raja does too. I hope you all have a great day.
God Bless,
Landon
P.S. If you are interested in writing an article, just shoot an email to ibackpublishing@gmail.com
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