Some years ago, thirty-four to be exact, about the time George Devine was with the summer symphony in Ravinia Park north of Chicago, I had a dream. I had come here, mid-life, from an active world, somewhat bruised by years and sin, to a quiet life among strangers who did not speak a language I knew. Though I never doubted that what I had done was good and right, it was nonetheless difficult. In the midst of that stress and anguish, I had a dream: A professor of philosophy at the seminary I was trained in, author of a series of Latin texts, small, intense, very ascetical, much the model of holiness as conceived at the time. He came in a dream, this vision of my past, and in full front face, large and clear, pointed his finger at me and said with great intensity, "What you are doing is a very beautiful thing." I walked in the strength of the vision many days.

Now comes a man, burdened with years, but not with sin, rather with infirmities, about to make an even more momentous step. It is no less a marvel of grace. How comes it save by the purification of suffering, that a man in whom hearing has long since ceased to function normally, can hear so clearly the voice of God? How comes it that a man whose sight long since wearied of further service, can have such a sharp vision of truth? How comes it that a man no longer able to get about as he once could, but is dependent on others to go anywhere, can with alacrity follow the call of the Lord with speed and grace? How comes it that a man once graced with gifts of music of eminent quality, now but a memory, should in such poverty know the shrewdness of the poor and where real wealth and beauty lay?

I say, we are witness to God at work. How comes a man who has known suffering and sorrow, loneliness and pain, the caprice of human existence, the frustration of being helpless and alone, to know a grace so hidden and so profound, a grace unseen by most, not much acknowledged and reckoned with, precious and beautiful beyond telling: full communion with Christ and Peter. One can only marvel.

One can only say with great emphasis and with great gratitude to God:

"George Devine, what you are doing is a very beautiful thing!"

 May the beauty live forever and be eternal joy to you, to angels and to men.  Amen.