Dogs of the Lord

Appreciating the big and small Domini canis

08/08/2023

Mt 14:22-36 Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side of the sea, while he dismissed the crowds. After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them, walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. "It is a ghost," they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, "Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid." Peter said to him in reply, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." He said, "Come." Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, "O you of little faith, why did you doubt?" After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, "Truly, you are the Son of God."

Every year on August 8 we celebrate the memorial of St. Dominic. He founded a religious order called the “Order of Preachers” whose specific task was preaching and teaching the Catholic faith. He was born in 1170 in Spain and died in 1221, at the age of 50. Undoubtedly the greatest member of his order was St. Thomas Aquinas. We studied the theology of Aquinas in seminary, and his teaching still shapes and systematizes the Catholic faith today. His influence cannot be overstated.

The followers of St. Dominic are called Dominicans and there is a beautiful tradition surrounding that name. Dominic’s mother was childless and made a pilgrimage to the Abby of Silos to pray for a pregnancy. While there, she dreamed of a dog leaping from her womb carrying a flaming torch in its mouth, and the torch seemed to set the world on fire. In Latin Dominicans is Dominicanus. A play on words renders it as two words in Latin, “Domini” and “canis” meaning dog of the Lord. And modern day Dominicans consider it a badge of honor to be called a dog of the Lord.

With the permission of St. Dominic and all those who proudly wear the title of Dominicans, I would like to give a shout-out to Apollo, whom I also consider to be a “dog of the Lord.” That is, I am beginning to learn that all dogs (our pets) are “dogs of the Lord.” And further, that like the Dominican order, dogs also teach and preach in their own way about the Lord and his love. Let me give you two examples of how Apollo has been a Domini canis for me and others.

First, Apollo has taught me to have a great deal of patience and understanding for people who come late for Mass on Sunday with their babies and toddlers. I used to think: why can’t you get up 15 minutes earlier and arrive on time? But there have been several Sundays when I thought I had prepared well in advance, giving Apollo his breakfast and going on a long walk.

But just as I was about to leave the rectory for church, he had an accident or threw up because he ate some grass. I rushed to clean everything up, and raced into the sacristy of the church a few minutes before Mass, barely starting on time. Suddenly, I had a huge heart of sympathy for those poor parents arriving a few minutes late. Now, I just smile and nod and think: “Yep, I get it. I’m just glad you made it. No judgement.”

In other words, without saying a word Apollo has preached and taught me that the notion of total control and everything flowing punctually and according to my agenda are illusions of personal power. He has helped me to simply do the best I can, and leave things in God’s control.

Another lesson Apollo has taught me is how to break through barriers and feel closer to people. One day a couple came for marriage preparation. The girl was Catholic and the boy was Protestant. I could immediately tell the young man looked at me with suspicion and caution, and did not say two words to me. Wearing all black with a white collar that could have come from Star Trek, he felt like I was stranger-danger, and he kept his distance physically and socially.

I led the couple into Dc. Greg’s office and apologized that my dog had confiscated my office. Suddenly, the young man’s eyes lit up and he asked, “Oh! You have a dog?!” A broad smile crossed his face and he became intensely curious about Apollo. He started to tell me about his own dogs. In a few seconds I went from being stranger-danger to his best friend.

When Apollo and I run at Creekmore Park, perfect strangers, who never would have looked twice at me, often compliment Apollo’s shiny coat and good behavior. Children love dogs, of course, but many adults become like little children around dogs. Dogs make us more human, and even make us priests look human to a suspicious world. This is how these Domini canis preach and teach us today.

Please join me today in thanking God for St. Dominic and the Order of Preachers he founded. May God call many young men and women to follow his path. Let us also praise God for the diminutive Domini canis, like Apollo, whom he has sent to preach and teach to us. They make us more human, and even a little more holy.

Praised be Jesus Christ!