Advent/Second Coming are in the air
12th December 2011 · 0 Comments
By Fr. Jerome LeDoux
Contributing Columnist
Dorman Lawrence “DL” Vance was an unknown to most of us, but to Jodi Dion Johnson, he was Great-Uncle DL Vance,, her paternal grandfather’s brother. Through husband Vernon Newton, Jr., Jodi found her way into Our Mother of Mercy Church.
It was my first foray into Grand Prairie, 20 miles east of Fort Worth where 77-year-old DL had spent most of his declining years. Now, after a life to the full with his family and friends, his mortal remains lay in First Christian Church, his extended family.
In the full, moderate-sized church, DL’s life from womb to tomb was portrayed on a large screen suspended from the ceiling up front while a classical guitar version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was played. Giggling and hunching lasted throughout the video presentation accentuated by some dabbing of silent tears with facial tissue.
Later, the 10 mixed-choir members sang mostly in three-part harmony, at times giving way to piped music. Curiously, the succession of speakers called attention to the end time scenario of DL’s attitude toward life, all the while extolling his joy and prayer. In fitting fashion, the atmosphere of Advent/Second Coming permeated the air. A mostly white crowd heard that DL is glad now to be where color is no longer a factor. That claim was confirmed by the fact that a goodly number of the mourners filing up to the coffin at the end of the service were black women and men who mingled freely with everyone else, hugging and kissing DL’s relatives as if they were family. Driving back, I was about to pass the Eastchase Parkway exit when I reflected that I needed to do some vegan shopping. After picking up some carrots, apples, avocadoes and AA batteries, I began to fish for some tall, 13-gallon garbage can trash liners. I passed a beaming man and greeted him in his powered wheelchair roadster. Soon I passed him again in another aisle, this time parked side by side with an attractive lady in her own motored wheelchair. “What do we have here,” I thought to myself, “a burgeoning romance of wheelchair drivers who are exploring love?”
With a smile and an admiring nod, I slid past them to the giant store’s last aisle where I did happen upon the sought-after trash liners. Suddenly, I was accosted from the rear with, “If you are not careful, my Daddy is going to punish you!”
It was indeed the man in the mobile chair who observed, “God intended to have you come way back here to meet me today! That is how my Daddy takes care of me!”
I had forgotten to take my collar off before entering the store. It was then that I realized why I had forgotten to conceal it in my shirt pocket. The man’s Daddy had made sure that he would recognize me and not hesitate to pour his heart out about his life.
And pour out he did about his frequent prayers during each day, about the many hardships he had endured and continued to endure, and about his implicit trust that his Daddy would not let him down but would enable him to persevere until the end.
Articulate and precise in his thoughts and diction, he continued, “If I do anything wrong, my Daddy is there to spank me, because he is coming soon and he wants me to get my house in order. If you’re not careful, he will spank you too!”
Just then, the lady in the other roadster reappeared. As I began to think there was more here that met the eye, I nodded in acknowledgement of her presence, even as I turned to him again and observed, “Your cap implies that you are a Vietnam veteran.”
“Yes, I am!” he returned with a broad, satisfied smile.
“Furthermore,” I added, “your speech, your thoughts and your
demeanor tell me that you have been and perhaps still are a preacher.”
“Let me say something!” the lady interrupted before he could speak. “There are those people who are always running away from the Lord. I keep telling him that! And besides, we are divorced! We talk only about the concerns of our children.”
“So what do we have here?” I asked. “Another Jonah? I want to know just one thing: Why did you two very intelligent, congenial people of prayer get divorced?”
As they fell into Chapter One of a civil but heated discussion, I resigned myself to the reality that Advent/The Second Coming are clearly in the air all around us.
This article was originally published in the December 12, 2011 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper
