Fr. Jacob's July 2015 Newsletter Message

Small Mercies

Finnian is the latest member of our family. You might be wondering why you have not seen him at church. Finn is a 17 week old Irish Setter. He has a glossy copper goat and little teeth that are like needles. Everything that comes within range of his mouth is chewed and like a light switch he has two modes, either crazy or asleep.

I have lived with dogs almost all my life and until Finn, just about every dog has been a sight hound. From Afghan Hounds, through Borzois, and onto several greyhound/whippet mutts. They not the brightest bulb on the porch but there’s a sort of lovable simplicity and prowess about their natures. They want to run and if not, they want to rest. That’s it.

We brought two dogs with us all the way from England. They were what the British call. “lurchers”. That is, they were mongrel sight hounds. They had to fly cargo, in special animal crates. They had to be vaccinated, inspected and chipped. It cost more to bring them over than to pay for our three children to make the journey. We only managed it due to the kindness of my brother. It was impossible to think that we could leave them behind. Once we were here, they were the greatest mark of the continuity of our life before and our life after arrival.

A long way from England, in a wonderful new homeland, dogs have been the presence of the old country. Our last English dog died on New Year’s Eve. It’s always a heartbreaking thing but added into the mix of tears and disbelief, was an unexpected sense of loss: our old lives somehow seemed just a bit further away.

Finn arrived about 4 weeks ago. I wanted a dog that reminded me of the old world. Sight hounds are rare here. Perhaps for the first time we’d need to think of another kind of dog. We waited and looked. I wanted to hold out. Out of the blue I saw an advert for Irish Setters and later the same day he was ours. Crazy and friendly and curious.

Winston Churchill, the great British leader, compared the depression he experienced on and off through his life, to a “black dog”. My experience has been different. Dogs have been through my life an intimation of a different sort of faithfulness: a constancy that is not bested by change and a loyalty that endures the variations of life. They have been an invitation to trust and a source of delight and joy. So, as a Christian, I have come to thank God for their part in my life. It feels like a gift. I’ll try to remember that next time Finn bites me.

Finnian knows nothing of England but unbeknownst to himself he sleeps in the crate in which one of our English dogs flew across the Atlantic. It kind of feels like the story is continuing.

Blessings,

Jacob