Be-ing

It is the early 80’s and I’m a few years out of school, unmarried, and starting out on a very lucrative career.  I live in Reston, Virginia, a new town founded in the 1960s.  We have a brand new Catholic parish and a friend suggests that we start a Knights of Columbus Council.  I’m thinking old guys in tuxedos and plumed hats, that’s not me, is it?  But Jerry convinces me and, since I’m a finance guy, I get to be the charter treasurer.  The financial secretary – who I have to work closely with as the treasurer – is one of the “old guys.”  Of course, that’s the way I saw it, but he was no more than 55 then, younger than I am today.  He didn’t have the tuxedo and plumed hat.  In fact, he seemed to me a very nice man, a good man.  His name is Paul Hickey.

I didn’t have the language then to describe why he seemed so nice, but as I got to know him better – who would have dreamed I’d become his son-in-law! – and as the Lord drew me closer to Scripture, I ultimately realized what Paul had and why I should want to be just like him.

For Paul, things weren’t important; people were.  Color television, who needs it?  Fancy car, what for?  Pay extra for peanut butter, are you crazy?  Frugal, Paul was.  But that only allowed him to be extremely generous – generous with his charity, generous with his time, generous with his talents.  He reminded me of some of the homeless I know from the shelter I volunteer at.  They have next-to-nothing, but are always eager to share what they have.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Perhaps it was his Irish heritage, but Mary remembers many a wake that Paul would drag all the children to, much to their discomfort.  It’s important, he’d say, to mourn with your friends, to help celebrate the lives of those we know who have passed.  Blessed are those who mourn, they shall be comforted.

A striking feature of Paul was his gentleness.  I rarely saw him angry.  My brother, who only knew Paul from a few family gatherings, when he heard of Paul’s death, told me that he knew Paul as a gentle man.  Truly he was.  Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

When Paul lived in White Plains, he was the go-to guy whenever the city or some developer wanted to erect some outrageous tower or otherwise disrupt their quiet, residential neighborhood.  Paul would do the research, attend the hearings, and, in his persuasive way, turn the plans around.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness sake, they shall be satisfied.

As all of us parents know, kids can test unconditional love to the very limit.  Somehow it seems they never do things just that way we’d want or expect.  Whether it was John taking six years to get through college – he had to graduate because he ran out of courses to take – or Mary wanting to be a teacher – “geez, you’ll never have two nickels to rub together” – or Tish gypsying around trying to find herself – will she ever settle down? – they all knew that Paul’s love would never flag.  Whatever or whenever, he would be there for them.  Blessed are the merciful, for they shall find mercy.

Paul was always devoted to the church and its teachings.  Before we had a church building in Reston, Pat and Paul would host daily Masses at their home.  They’d especially do this during college vacations, in part, so they could shame the kids into attending.  Mary remembers Paul standing at the bottom of the stairs, “I don’t know how you can lie in bed when you know the Mass will be celebrated in your very own living room!”  Of course, they couldn’t resist.  Pat and Paul raised three children who, to this day, are faith-filled people with faith-filled families.  Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.

His experience in the army during the Korean War, particularly during basic training, encouraged Paul to pray for peace, and he continued do that for the rest of his life.  He was a man of prayer and peace, particularly praying, as Zechariah did, that the dawn from on high would shine on his children, guiding their feet into the way of peace.  Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

Life didn’t always go according to Paul’s plan.  Some may have wallowed in self-pity at such disappointments.  But Paul would simply roll up his sleeves and confront whatever problems beset him.  Whether it was cooking some typical dad-can’t-really-boil-water dinner for the kids when he had to do that, or spending a summer on a ladder burning the paint off a 50-year old house to repaint it, Paul got it done with nary a complaint.  Blessed those who are persecuted, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Paul taught me with his life what his patron and namesake, Paul of Tarsus teaches me in Scripture - that the be-ing of life was so much more important than the doing of life.  To know who you are – a sinner saved by an all-loving, all-merciful, all-provident God who proves his love in that while we still sinned, Christ died for us – and to know this great love in your heart of hearts, frees you from all of your wants, frees you from all of your fears, frees you be what Jesus calls each one of us to be – poor in spirit, mournful for the world and its sufferings, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, clean of heart, a peacemaker who bears patiently with suffering and persecution.  And when that is your be-ing, the doing naturally flows. 

Blessed are you, Paul Patrick Hickey, the kingdom of heaven is yours.