"He left us instructions" - St Clement in Boston

When himself and I were on the road, I was not yet knowledgeable enough about the state of the Church in this country, liturgically (and therefore spiritually,) and about the information to be had online, for my choice of church to anything but hit-or-miss.
Sometimes the hits were dead on, (St Charles Borromeo in N Hollywood, that Eastern Rite church north of Miami...) and the misses were occasionally outright freaking hysterical, (the robo-priest in the mountains, the talking-to-the-chair lesson in the Midwest, the vestibule Mass somewhere down south, the priest who gave us a kind of easy-listenin' concert instead of distributing communion, for instance.) (And in the interest of full disclosure, once, a sedevacantist group, before I knew such things existed.)
Even now, I can't always find someplace welcoming and worshipful, usually to suggest to others, family or friends, who are either traveling or live someplace where Mass is either celebrated carelessly or with deliberate abuse.
Anyway, this
http://stclementshrine.org/
is the sort of place I wish I had known about (when we played Boston, we worshipped with the witches, as I recall.)
Lovely little sermon on Ascension (which, yes, resonates all the louder with me just now because our back door has warped...)
http://stclementshrine.org/index.php?id=202


He left us instructions
Before the seminary, I had a little carpentry business: The Peter Grover Co. to be exact. It was small and humble, the kind of business you would call if you needed the roof fixed or a cabinet installed. One day, I was hanging a door for a friend of mine who had a little picture frame shop. The door had a large, thick, heavy window. My problem? I had never actually hung a door before. My father always hung the doors. I held the door, or the screwdriver, put the pins in the hinges and got the coffee. Oh, there was one other thing I did. I always watched my father carefully. Where was I? Oh, yes... Well, I finally hung the door but strangely, it didn't want to close tight. It was the classic case of "hinge-bound." Not knowing what to do, I called my father. He assured me it was an easy fix. He said, "You've seen me do it. Remember how I chisel the wood at a slight angle behind the hinge?" "Yes." He continued, "You may have to make a few adjustments, but you can do it." Between the instructions and my memory, I went to work. It took me a few times but eventually the door closed beautifully. I had actually hung my first door, a small but meaningful victory.
Jesus ascended into to heaven. Don't get me wrong. I would love to have our Lord here with us. He could solve our problems; care for us when we are sick; pray for us as He always did. He could make sacrifices for us, preach, teach, instruct and forgive. That would be great, but He had to go. He wants us to do the work He did. Yes, you may think it's a daunting task, but He left us instructions and we remember how He did it. Now it is up to us to go to work and do the works that He has called us to do.
Fr. Peter
May 4, 2008 Seventh Sunday of Easter
Oh, and they are ordaining a transitional deacon this week.