It is an interesting thing to die as a priest. This past weekend we had the reading where Abraham was asked to look up into the sky and count the number of the 
stars if he can and this would be the number of his descendants. Elsewhere in the Gospel we are told that nobody gives up wife and family for the sake of the kingdom without it being returned hundreds of times over. Both seem to be the lot of the priest. Even if the priest was just your typical guy, not over talented or good looking, or even particularly liked, he is still respected as a priest and his spiritual family turns out for him.
The Rev. James Schleicher (ordination class of 1954) was buried today. The three priests from Saint Sebastian arrived at St. Francis about forty minutes early and snagged one of the few remaining parking places. In general priests haul their own gear with them and so need a place to prepare themselves. We were ushered to the school refectory where we dumped all of our winter coverings and put on our albs and stoles. As we were ready we walked across the parking lot in bunches to the church albs and stoles blowing in the wind. One of the nice things about being a priest in this situation is that you have a seat saved for you. We were directed first down the aisle to view Father Schleicher, say a prayer for him, and then over to the designated area for priests.
A priest is generally buried in full dress for Mass. It used to be a tradition that a priest would come to help vest at the funeral home but I think today that is usually just handled by the funeral people. I’ll have to find out from classmate what was the case in this situation. The casket in which he was laid is known in some circles as the priest casket. The lid opens full length and is removable for calling hours.
The Mass was beautiful and it is our tradition that the priests sing for their deceased brother. At the end of the Mass we sing, “In Paradisum.” It galvanizes us together and the rafters ring with the sound of priests voices singing at full volume. We then are the first out in procession but we line the way like a victory tunnel fr
om the church to the hearse. After our brother is safely in the vehicle we break ranks to talk, tell stories, and catch up heading back over to the school to change and perhaps have a little something to eat.
It may be true that a priest dies alone but he is waked by his large family.
stars if he can and this would be the number of his descendants. Elsewhere in the Gospel we are told that nobody gives up wife and family for the sake of the kingdom without it being returned hundreds of times over. Both seem to be the lot of the priest. Even if the priest was just your typical guy, not over talented or good looking, or even particularly liked, he is still respected as a priest and his spiritual family turns out for him.The Rev. James Schleicher (ordination class of 1954) was buried today. The three priests from Saint Sebastian arrived at St. Francis about forty minutes early and snagged one of the few remaining parking places. In general priests haul their own gear with them and so need a place to prepare themselves. We were ushered to the school refectory where we dumped all of our winter coverings and put on our albs and stoles. As we were ready we walked across the parking lot in bunches to the church albs and stoles blowing in the wind. One of the nice things about being a priest in this situation is that you have a seat saved for you. We were directed first down the aisle to view Father Schleicher, say a prayer for him, and then over to the designated area for priests.
A priest is generally buried in full dress for Mass. It used to be a tradition that a priest would come to help vest at the funeral home but I think today that is usually just handled by the funeral people. I’ll have to find out from classmate what was the case in this situation. The casket in which he was laid is known in some circles as the priest casket. The lid opens full length and is removable for calling hours.
The Mass was beautiful and it is our tradition that the priests sing for their deceased brother. At the end of the Mass we sing, “In Paradisum.” It galvanizes us together and the rafters ring with the sound of priests voices singing at full volume. We then are the first out in procession but we line the way like a victory tunnel fr
om the church to the hearse. After our brother is safely in the vehicle we break ranks to talk, tell stories, and catch up heading back over to the school to change and perhaps have a little something to eat.It may be true that a priest dies alone but he is waked by his large family.
7 comments:
Beautifully written. Thank you, Father.
It was a beautifully, inspiring "Going Home" Mass...was imagining Fr. Schleicher's booming voice belting out his favorites hyms. Prayerfully, I asked the Lord to yank on the hearts of all the young men and boys in attendance to see awesomeness of the priestly vocation. Thanks for being there, Father.
Thank you, Father, for a beautiful blog about Fr. Schleicher's Requiem Mass. May God bless Fr. Schleicher, who served at St. Mary's, St. Bernard's and St. Sebastian's and welcomed our beloved Fr. Byrider at St Francis de Sales as Pastor Emiritus of St. Sebastian's.
Thanks for remember a great priest, John! I was one of the first vocations to come from St. Francis. It is such a wonderful place, and will continue to be so with the priests that are serving there now. What a homily that Fr. Vesely gave! What great memories today. Please remember to pray for all priests, especially in this special "Year of the Priest!"
A beautiful post, Father. We just recently buried the retired pastor of my parish and I must say the witness of his brother priests and the singing of Salve Regina at the end of Mass are utterly burned into my memory. Indeed only in death do you know how many lives you have touched.
aha!!!notice, it was the SALVE REGINA that was burned into the memory of the person above---i wonder if such a strong reaction could be elicited from the dulcet murmurings of the "newie but goodie" tune--on eagles wings---i am preparing myself for the yes respnses that may come--n.so sorry--i just can't resist---i know more prayer--
I knew Father Schleicher. A long time ago he celebrated Mass in our front yard . . . . . when home Masses were the thing. After playing soccer in the backyard, he put vestments on and went to the front yard. I rigged up an altar table on the forecourt. All the neighbors were there including the Dzurkos who were on vacation from Mike's work in Leopoldville (now Kinshasha). He had been sent there by Goodyear. He took the family, including an eight-year old boy, with him to Africa. Mobuto . . . the guy in charge in the Congo . . . . was trying to suppress the Church, and so the Dzurkos were not getting to church, and it was time for the little boy to receive First Communion. As it turned out, Father Schleicher served the boy his First Communion at the home Mass in our front yard . . . . and everyone present was happy.
Post a Comment