The next time I see Pete, we’re going to pull up a
couple comfortable chairs
And enjoy the mild refreshing breeze under a big shade
tree.
We’ll talk about the last time we got together.
The places we’ve been and all that we’ve learned since
our last conversation.
We’ll both understand what those earlier days were all
about.
Why we did what we did.
And didn’t do what we didn’t do.
We all have our memories of Pete.
Maybe from just his quick greeting as we passed by.
Or a moment’s pause for a brief chat.
Or maybe a deeper conversation when there was time for
that.
Some of us first met Pete about 8 years ago.
He came to Mass here every day for a couple months.
He looked like an average guy.
Neatly dressed and groomed.
He was quiet.
I don’t recall him speaking to anyone.
Then he was gone for a few months.
But he came back again,
This time limping and using an empty wheel chair for a
walker.
And then the wheelchair started to fill up with bags
and books.
And then suitcases piled on top of that.
Until it was overflowing.
He also grew more talkative.
And we got to know him.
And it became obvious; Peter Bis was definitely not
your average guy.
We’re all unique, but he was more unique than most.
He was well above average in many ways.
His truly amazing memory.
His clear intelligence and humor.
His broad experience.
His fantastic imagination.
His ability to attract and engage all who passed by
his “office” under the tree.
He knew trivia and he knew current events.
He could carry on a conversation on just about any
subject.
It seemed that Pete knew a lot about many things.
And a little about everything.
Pete was an amazing fellow.
Even at a casual distance.
It was amazing to see his almost constant friendly
demeanor.
Despite the summer heat or winter cold.
And whether he was actually feeling cheerful or not.
It was amazing to see his truly incredible memory in
action.
If the foot traffic past his tree was heavy,
He’d greet dozens of people in the span of a few
minutes.
He knew them all by name.
And if they’d ever told him, he knew the names of
their spouses and children—
Even if he’d never met them.
About six years ago, my uncle was visiting from Kentucky.
We stopped and talked to Pete for a minute or two as
we headed for Union Station.
On our way back, my uncle gave Pete a cup of coffee he
had bought for him.
A few months ago, out of the blue, Pete said to me,
So how’s Uncle Dave?
I once told him he should take a job as a greeter at
Walmart.
That he’d be a legend in the corporate annals.
He was offended at the suggestion.
He said he was too skilled for that, overqualified.
He had much more challenging and important work to do.
And he did have many talents and skills.
He could rebuild an engine, or rig up a wagon train of
assorted carts.
He could sketch portraits and landscapes and
engineering diagrams.
Once, during his boat period,
He drew detailed plans for adding masts and sails to a
large boat.
It looked like a professional, architectural drawing.
I assume he understood all the engineering and
nautical principles behind his plan.
I can only assume, because I certainly didn’t understand
all that.
He scoured the boating magazines looking for the right
used boat.
One day he told me he’d found it.
He dug into his files and pulled out an article about
mothballed Navy ships.
You could buy them for just $25,000 or so.
He said he could get that much from a lawsuit; Pete
knew a lot about the law.
His plan was to get a 150 foot ship, refurbish it
himself, add those sails,
And take to life on the seas.
I questioned whether that was even possible.
He told me he’d learned a lot working in a shipyard in
Oregon.
He was convinced
And he was convincing.
I had to believe that he might actually be able to do it.
He was equally convinced of other things.
But he couldn’t convince me.
His courtship of Lady Di.
His extraterrestrial origins.
His current assignments with the international
intelligence community.
And the many conspiracies at the root of his and the
world’s problems.
There are lots of amazing stories about Pete.
And our presence here today highlights one of them.
Why did we all decide to devote our time to this
Saturday afternoon memorial?
It’s because Pete touched each of us, personally, in a
special way.
Perhaps more deeply than we even realized.
And he touched hundreds or thousands of others who
will always remember him.
How many of us will accomplish that in our
lives?
Pete shared all he had with us.
He shared himself.
As we remember and celebrate the good times we shared with
Pete,
We might also feel at least a little twinge of guilt.
Why do I have so many of life’s luxuries, and he had
so few?
What more might I have done for Pete?
He was happy with a returned greeting, a little
conversation,
A little banter and humor, maybe a coffee with tons of
cream and sugar,
or a sandwich.
Maybe we even tried to give him more than that.
Maybe we were frustrated by our inability to make
things happen.
That’s all a part of who Pete was.
Pete doesn’t need anything from us now.
Except our prayers.
But we can take what Pete taught us and be more aware
of others who do need help.
We can do that hands-on; spending time with them,
simply greeting them,
or at least acknowledging them when they speak to us.
We can support the organizations that reach out to
those in need.
Catholic Charities is an excellent example; it has
many programs for people in need.
Including the homeless and those with physical and mental
health challenges.
Capitol Hill Group Ministry directly helps the
homeless and others in need.
And helps to coordinate programs among the
congregations here on the Hill.
We can support government assistance programs when
they come under attack.
Helping the needy is more than just a nice thing to
do.
It’s our duty.
We can’t be like Dives, the rich man in the famous
Gospel story.
He would leave his opulent
home in his fine garments after a sumptuous meal.
And step over the body of poor Lazarus, lying and
starving in his doorway.
To use the old cliché, I know I’m preaching
to the choir.
Anyone as self-absorbed as Dives wouldn’t be
here today.
But as today’s Gospel passage notes, we’re
called to do a lot better than Dives.
We’re called to be that seed that fell on
rich soil.
The ones who, when they have heard the word,
embrace it with a generous and good heart,
and bear fruit through perseverance.
We’re called to not only
act, but to set the example and spread the word to others.
I said before that Pete taught us; Pete was indeed a
teacher.
He taught us that everyone we walk past deserves to be
recognized as a real person.
Even if their appearance is deceiving.
If Pete had sat in silence, looking down at the
sidewalk.
Or if he’d called for our attention with less
friendly, less charming, words,
We would probably never have gotten to know the Pete
inside there.
But he got our attention.
He attracted us to himself.
He let us look inside his mind.
He shared what he was thinking.
He shared his plans, his imagination, his history, and
even his faults and prejudices.
We’ve been walking past his vacant spot under the tree
for a few weeks now.
And each day growing a little more accustomed to the
emptiness there.
And that unheard greeting.
Over the years we had come to take Pete’s presence for
granted.
And now, we’re reminded that we’re all just passing
through this life.
We might be drawn to think about our own mortality.
Today’s reading from Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians,
Offers consolation and great hope for Pete and for all
of us.
Paul talks of raising from the dead.
The resurrection of the body.
And we know that we have a compassionate God who loves
each one of us.
A God who is all merciful.
So, we have great cause for hope that we will share in
that resurrection.
In a real sense, Pete was right, he was an extraterrestrial.
We all are.
We’re all living in an alien world.
But this world is being transformed.
And someday it will be the world that God intends for
it to be.
And we will be raised from the dead.
Raised to new life in new glorified bodies.
And our glorified, perfected selves will each have
plenty of time.
Time to join the glorified, perfected Pete for a long chat
–under a heavenly tree.
Saturday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
1 Cor 15:35-37
Lk 8:4-14
