JACK OF ALL TRADES - MASTER OF FEW

“I’m starting to get a taste of what’s involved with being a pastor.”

This was a line from a newly ordained priest for the Diocese of Cleveland.  He had visited St. Sebastian on Monday night to talk to our confirmation candidates, their parents, and sponsors about being on fire for God.  Afterward in the rectory he made that comment about being a pastor.  He was “Home Alone,” his pastor being on his annual retreat.  “I’m not running the parish,” he was quick to clarify, “but I’m discovering there is a lot more to it than I originally imagined.”

Besides being an “expert” (as much as anybody is) on matters of faith, God, and people’s souls, there are budgets and roofs and counseling.  Art, education, tax laws, city ordinances, Increasing federal laws, and being able to play the politician (you can’t say yes to everything but try to keep people involved and happy) and more are all nuances of a pastor.

 
“I had to say, ‘No,’ to someone today,” he said.  “Gosh was that difficult.  It was something that the person really wanted and I knew the pastor (who was away) didn’t.  I had to find a way to say no without getting this very enthusiastic person upset.”  It is a very difficult thing.

That was an interesting lesson to learn for such a recently ordained priest.  

Then the next morning tragedy struck his parish.  One of the school children had died.  Pulled away from Mass, he had to run out to scene to pray and comfort.  But Mass could not be left unfinished and so he had to returned to finish Mass after witnessing this as duty called him to do.  But things would not end there.  This is something with which they will be dealing for a long time.  

Fortunately the pastor was able to hurry home and assist with his wizened and time tested years dealing with all kinds of things and together, along with a wonderful, faith filled community, they began the process of coping and healing.

This weekend is Priesthood Sunday.  Imagine how different things would have been if there was not a priest on hand at the parish that morning - if there were not someone living at the parish that could handle emergencies around the clock - if there were not someone free of familial obligations so as to be able to be that representative of Christ (however imperfectly we do so) whenever and for as long as needed.  Please pray for vocations.  Suggest to a young man that you think he might make a good priest.  Be a part of the solution of making sure our Catholic community is well tended in the future.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: HOW FAR IS TOO FAR?

Is a priest who wears oxford shoes and uses a thurible a conservative?  Is a priest who wears sandals and uses an incense bowl a liberal?  If both options are on the Catholic playing field, does it matter?  Does it matter any differently if you are St. Patrick Cathedral or in a mud and thatch church in the missions?  Does it matter if one is a Jesuit and one is a Franciscan?  

The last paragraph that we are going to look at in this particular section (111) of the GIRM (we start something new next week) is really trying to get everybody on the same page.  It tells us that great care should be taken that the Mass is coordinated among all of the ministers as well as having some input from the parishioners with final say coming from the “rector.”  This is so that the choir director doesn’t prepare for the usual weekend Mass, the celebrant decides to move the patronal feast to the weekend, and the lector not knowing which readings to prepare.  That is why the “rector” sets the calendar, tone, and is responsible for communicating it.  

It is interesting that they use the world “rector.”  I had to research this a little bit.  It is not a term often used in the Catholic Church.  It comes from the Latin meaning “ruler.”  I think they use this term because not every parish has a pastor.  A seminary has a rector, not a pastor.  The bishop’s church (cathedral) may need a person to see to the day to day running of it as the bishop is out and about so much.  So you might have the rector of the cathedral . . .

So now, the rector has coordinated the Mass, communicated what will be happening, but another priest is going to celebrate.  Things may not go as smoothly as one might hope because the very last sentence of this last paragraph of this last section states, “However, the priest who presides at the celebration always retains the right of arranging those things that pertain to him.”

So that is terribly interesting.  What exactly does that mean?  I think that is what allowed my first parish to run both smoothly and somewhat diversely.  Mass was essentially the same from celebration to celebration though the celebrant changed.  Along with him however there may be oxfords or sandals, the Missal at the top of the corporal or off to the left, thurible or incense bowl.  Does the rector have the right to say to a celebrant, “No cassock,” or “No jeans” at Mass?  I would argue that this right does not exist (though it is possible for said rector to make said celebrant’s life miserable - and a good parochial vicar tries his best to bring about the vision a particular rector is trying to establish - but I’m just saying - and I admit to having strong preferences)  though a rector (and indeed anybody) has not only the right but the obligation to point out something that a priest is doing that is illicit or invalid.  

So if a presider likes to wear a fiddleback or a properly colored tie dye chasuble you might say to him, “I really don’t like that,” but in the long run it really doesn’t matter.  It is both valid and licit and Jesus is still fully present at the Mass.  But if he celebrates not wearing a chasuble at all or changing the words of consecration because he thinks it is truer to the Latin, then something needs to be said.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: PAPA SANG BASS, MAMA SANG TENOR

The Church has produced some of the most beautiful music in the world, not the least of which are Mass settings.  I grew up singing these Masses in Latin (yes, post Vatican II.)  We sang them at Church.  We sang them in public school.  We sang them at the University of Akron.  I sang them with a choir at an Episcopal church for their services.  About the only place they are controversial is at a Catholic Mass.  Oh, the irony.

There is at least one part where I get the reason why.  The Sanctus (Holy, holy, holy) is not to be done by the choir in complicated polyphonic form (in Latin or English.)  This prayer is part of the Eucharistic prayer.  Paragraph 79, subsection b, states that this acclamation is that, “by which the whole congregation (joins) with the heavenly powers.”  This makes sense because the first line of the acclamation is the song the seraphim (angles) sang in Isaiah 6:2,3:

Seraphim were stationed above; each of them had six wings: with two they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they hovered.

One cried out to the other:  “Holy, holy, holy^* is the LORD of hosts!  All the earth is filled with his glory!”

And Revelation 4:8

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty,

who was, and who is, and who is to come.”

The second half of the song comes (appropriately enough for this weekend) from the people’s acclamation at Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem.  “Hosanna!”

It is part of the Eucharistic prayer.  The paragraph reads that the people join with the priest in it.  What we should understand is that the community of priests join with the ordained priest in this proclamation.  If you do not sing or recite this this part of the Eucharistic prayer (I don’t care how bad your voice is) you are shirking your responsibility as surely as the ordained priest would be if he decided he didn’t want to say part of the Mass assigned to him.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: FOR WHAT ARE YOU WAITING? GO! MAKE DISCIPLES

“DON’T – JUST DON’T!”  It is one of the great failings of the teachers and catechists of the Church that much of our teaching is conveyed via negativa.  In this way it seems much more like we are a faith of limiting, stifling, of making life boring.  What a tragic and huge mistake!  The purpose of the faith is to do exactly the opposite!  As these last two paragraphs of Lumen Gentium make clear that we are “constituted to live in royal liberty and, by self abnegation of a holy life, overcome the reign of sin in (our)selves.”  Where most of the world desires license to do as one wants, the faith desires that you have the liberty to thrive, physically, mentally, and spiritually in joy – now and for all eternity – in the way that you were created to be!

 

I went to the doctor and he gave me a long list of foods that he said I had to give up.  It was the most depressing meeting.  And fish, of course, was not his negative menu.   What would have been better was a course on great food and encouragement on how great it would be for me.  Instead it was, “Olives will kill you.   Do not eat olives.”  I’ll get right on that.”

Summing up this section, every Catholic lay person is anointed priest, prophet, and king and is responsible for the spreading of the kingdom.  As you do this, bear in mind the goal: to bring people to life, joy, and true freedom.  This is a much better line than, “Stop that or you’re going to hell.”  It may be true, but does living with such negative people sound any more appealing?

 

To this end, the laity has the right to ask from the Church what it needs to accomplish these goals.  The laity also has the right to express their opinions to the institutional Church as it pertains toward these goals.  There is a certain amount of obedience that is called for then.  Not a happy topic.  But somehow a decision must be made concerning which direction we will head because until that is done, we can’t really move forward.  So pray for those acting on behalf of the institutional Church that they may be wise, active, and full of the Holy Spirit that we may accomplish all of these lofty goals.

 

Pastors must recognize the rights of the laity and foster their works.  Not everything can be or should be done by the ordained or even necessarily controlled by the ordained.  Go!  Spread the Good News without me!  There is more than enough work for everybody! 

 

Next time:  Call to Holiness

HELP WANTED

POSITION OPENING: PRIEST

LOCATION: JUST ABOUT EVERYWHERE

REPORTS TO: BISHOP/PASTOR

 

QUALIFICATIONS: Belief in Jesus and that He established the Catholic Church.  Active prayer and sacramental life a must.  You must be male, unmarried, and have at least a high school diploma.  An adventurous spirit and willingness to constantly learn new things and meet new people of every sort will be expected.  Spanish skills a plus.  You will also need a driver’s license.  There must be an awareness of your own unworthiness and that it will be God Who does good through you.  Looking for men who are ready and willing to serve, are open to the movement of the Spirit, gets along with people, willing to make promises of obedience and chastity, (poverty in certain instances,) and is flexible.  All areas of knowledge, experience, and education are helpful. 

 

JOB DESCRIPTION:  Long hours, hard work (for motivated individuals), little pay, great benefits (both in this world and the next,) and the satisfaction that you are changing the world and persons’ eternities for the better.  Duties include but are not limited to: Celebrating the most important events in people’s lives and that of salvation history particularly through the sacraments, preaching, teaching, healing, listening, forgiving.  You may be asked to run schools and other institutions whose budgets will run in the millions with little staff.  You will be directly in charge of and responsible for institutions that minister to households into the thousands, providing opportunities for them to minister, learn, and have Christian community.  You may need to coordinate or oversee having your parish be in active contact and cooperation with the diocese, the government, local parishes, and ecumenical configurations.  Will also be responsible for the physical and monetary property of a parish as well as taking on any odd job toward the building up of the Kingdom of God.

 

APPLY:  Call your local vocation directory or search out your diocese’s or religious order’s vocation web page or simply talk to your local priest or religious.  References from the Body of Christ (Have you ever thought of becoming a priest?) and/or the Holy Spirit (inner restlessness to serve God) will be necessary.

 

Vocation directors are standing by!  Don’t wait and let the opportunity to serve pass you by!  Check out the priesthood to see if you are being called.  If this is that to which you are being called, nothing else will make you as full of joy.

MONDAY DIARY: CUTTING STAFF

This past week Fr. Pfeiffer and I had some guests from the diocese for dinner and a meeting.  During dinner the topic of parochial vicars came up, something that I do not like to think too much on.  “Have you given any thought,” one of the visiting priests asked, “to what you will do if Fr. Pfeiffer is not replaced.”

 

“Constantly,” was my reply and quickly changed the subject for not wanting to talk about it.  A parish not too far from us just lost their associate.  Even with an associate we were called upon every once in a while to help out with their weekend schedule.  Upon losing their parochial vicar the pastor took a chainsaw to the Mass schedule to make it more manageable for one priest.

 

I thought about sacramental load at St. Sebastian just this past week.  When I first arrived confessions were rather rare.  (It may have been owing to me being new and people were cautious about confessing their sins to someone they yet know if they can trust.)  I would stand up and stretch, draw designs in the dust of the lamp shade (which are still there) and generally spend the hour in my own prayer.  Over the years we had developed a reputation of “three priests!  No waiting.”  Three of us would regularly be busy and often we would go over the time allotted for confessions.  Now our priest in residence has left and the time remaining for Fr. Pfeiffer is growing short.

 

So here is the sacramental diary from this past weekend.  There was of course morning Mass, confessions, an infant funeral (and trip to the cemetery), a wedding, Saturday night Mass, 9:00 AM Sunday Mass, Anointing of the Sick, 11:00 AM Mass, two baptisms, and the 1:00PM Mass.  This schedule is not unusual (and almost all could possibly be handled by one person if confessions were cut short and somebody else went to the graveyard, but how well would it be accomplished?) and are the things that cannot be handed off to others.  Of course, there are the things that we did that could be skipped or handed off to others.  There were appointments and rehearsals and visits to various activities going on around the parish.  Of the appointments one was a new wedding and TWO were young men considering the priesthood. 

 

To tell the truth, this parish spent some time with only one priest.  It will survive it once more if it must I am sure.  In the meantime, keep promoting vocations.  I am planning on a huge influx of young priests to help me in my old age.

 

Today is the feast of St. Therese.  Consider giving a rose to a young lady who you think should consider the religious life!  Maybe she is just waiting for someone to show that they think she is worthy.

MONDAY DIARY: LOVING THE OLD MAN IN THE COLLAR

The rectory can be an odd place – not quite a home – not quiet an office space – not quite a family place since it is all males – not quite private – not quite open to the public.  But that does not mean that it is safeguarded from situations that arise in much more traditional living spaces with more traditional tenants.

 

One area in which this is true is with aging “family” members.  There was a time when there were many more priests to take care of each other and priests could either retire or there were enough men on hand to keep a failing guy plugging along.  That is becoming less common.  There are less priests, later retirements, and there fewer young Turks to keep a guy going who might not be able to keep all six pistons going.

 

A couple of times now I have had the privilege to live with a man who was at the end of his priestly career.  Sometimes it was easy, sometimes not so much.  Sometimes a pleasure, sometimes nothing that six pack of martinis could not at least deaden. 

 

It can be an intense ministry.  A high maintenance priest can take up the ministry time that could go to scores of other people.  It is a delicate balance to weigh.  “Do I spend time giving Father the attention he desires today or do I go with the youth group?”

 

In the back of one’s mind is the thought, “One day that might be me.  Sure I have nephews, but will they come by and make sure that I am eating all right and taking my medication?  If I want to be taken care of I need to set the example.”

 

There is a pleasure taking care of a fellow elder-priest.  There is much to learn from him.  And there is value in respecting the life of such a man.  And it can be quite fulfilling if the man also happens to be cooperative.  (We priests can be notoriously uncooperative.) 

 

I almost killed one elder-priest with whom I was living.  It was not that I didn’t like him, I loved him quite dearly.  In fact I thought I was doing right by him when I said he should stop using the equivalent of an entire salt shaker every few days on his food and perhaps should take up the habit of having at least one glass of water a day.  (We liked to drink scotch together.)  Within a few weeks he was in the hospital with a low salt problem and was given orders to drink straight bullion for a month.

 

I’ve also seen how difficult life can be for an elder-priest.  I forget things all of the time.  One of Fr. P’s duties is to make sure that I do not embarrass myself by forgetting something.  When I was living with one elder priest, if I forgot something people would pat me on the head and chuckle, if the old pastor forgot something (and far less often than I did) in certain circles it became a sign that he was failing and should step down.

 

The nice thing about being elderly is the opportunity to stop caring about what people think.  I remember the above priest hearing that a lady in the parish was complaining because he forgot something and so he called her up and bluntly said, “Hello Betty!  I understand that I am forgetting things.  Perhaps you would care to elaborate and remind me what it is.”

 

Who knows what the solution will be.  We will grow into one – or, as I plan, there will be a HUGE influx of young men into the priesthood by the time I need someone to tell me I have one blue sock and one back sock on.  In the past, it was many priests in constant contact – but as we strive to keep as many rectories as possible open, that is thinning the heard.  And Social Security has all but wiped out housekeepers.  And nuns at the parish are as scarce as the hairs on my head.  In the meantime, if you can, give the old dodger a hand if you can – pray for older priests – and understand that like in your family, the other priests may be spending a goodly amount of time tending to one of their own.

MONDAY DIARY: RETREAT!

Greetings! I am on retreat this week and so posts may be late or sporatic! Sorry for the inconvenience. Say prayer for me as I say one for all of Adam's Ale readers. (I'll light a candle for you too!)

I’m on the road today. After the last Mass on Sunday, the last walk of Sebastian (at this point he started to suspect something,) and before evaporating out the door going over notes with my ever vigilant parochial vicar, I slipped in behind the wheel of my car, set the GPS, (I’m beginning the slippery slope toward high tech dependence saint preserve me) and stepped on the gas pedal to my yearly retreat. It was time to go. I was starting to get snarky and was taking things too personally. These being major signs that it was time for this priest to charge his spiritual batteries and reboot.

This is the first time that I am going to the retreat house on my own. I usually buddy up with at least one other priest but schedules were so conflicted and convoluted this year it was easiest just to make the seven hour trip on my own. A whole program of entertainment was in place to keep me interested in driving. The first hour was listening to “Wait, Wait! Don’t Tell Me” an NPR news quiz. When the signal was lost there were various CDs (and my rosary) to keep my company. There was a book on tape – a book that I read about ten years ago and enjoyed thoroughly and now was listening to again on CD, “Pillars of the Earth.” There was also “Nick Danger, Third Eye” which I can recite line for line. “What’s all this brouhaha? Brouhaha? Ha ha ha!”

The rest of the time was taken from CDs more in keeping with the purpose of my trip. One was entitled, “The Year of the Priest.” I listened to it with what I’ll admit was a bit of embarrassment. It went on at length about the great sacrifices priests make. And we do. But . . .

Now, there is no denying that there are priests who make extraordinary sacrifices: leaving family behind, working in terrible conditions, suffering poverty, way overworked, being accused unjustly of all sorts of things, and in some parts of the world facing severe opposition and almost monthly a priest meets with martyrdom. But you know what? If you are called to the priesthood, it is a far grander sacrifice not to be ordained. I have met these men in the confessional. They did what they were “supposed” to do – pressured by family or peers to do what everyone else was doing – wife, kids, job - and now quietly sacrificing something within themselves in order to fulfill the life they vowed to live.

Everybody makes sacrifices. You cannot begin to build anything until you sacrifice something. One must say no to many things in order to start creating something great out of the idea you are willing to say yes to. The sacrifices I make in order to be a priest I gladly do. My priest friends and I, when we get together, talk about how fortunate we are and are in wonder that more men do not choose this life. We know the sacrifices that others make and are in wonder at them. At the breakfast shop on our day away we see a mother and father struggling with a young child in the throes of a tantrum or a young couple obviously in a fight with their arms crossed, or we perhaps we’ve talked with family who may have to pull their children from the school because of a monetary set back and think we are lucky for the life we are privileged to live. “How do they do that?” Yet we also know that if that is the life to which God is calling them, anything else would seem a trial.

The escapism book that I am reading told a story about an honor that the main character is receiving. (I hesitate to recommend this book before I finish though I am quite enjoying it. It happened once that I recommended a book when half way through that was just delightful but turned rather lurid to the point that I was embarrassed even to have it on my bookshelf!) When the character was told of his honor it was so well written that I felt his thrill. I started to wonder what honor I could receive that would give me the same thrill. To be quite honest I can’t think of anything that would be more of an honor than of being the pastor of my parish. Become bishop? No. Win an award? No.

The richest man in the world is the one who is happy with what he has. Sure there are things I would like to change (one of which is wishing the Sebastian was on this trip with me.) But they are minor in comparison to the benefits that being a priest is to me.

Sometimes I worry about the future. Will there be a day that I am sorry that I do not have (grand)children? Will I feel loss for not having a family and a home? I was told to expect that when I turned 40 (and am well past that now.) But I realize there has not been a day that I have regretted (maybe a couple of incidents however) and that I am happy today and there is no reason to suspect that I will be unhappy, at least overall, tomorrow.

I hope you have said yes to something. I pray that your yes is bringing you closer to God and joy. But to those of you who are really facing sacrifices whether you be a priest, a married person, a deacon, a religious, or a single person, thank you. Thank you for saying yes and doing your best to build something greater than yourself for the benefit of your brothers and sisters and for the glory of God.

FRIDAY FAIR: PRAY MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS THAT THIS, THE WAY WE ARE PRAYING, MAY BE ACCEPTABLE TO GOD THE ALMIGHTY FATHER

So Rob asked about the orans position at prayer which I thought would be a quick and relatively uncomplicated thing to report on this week, but such is not the case. It has been a minor matter of controversy in our diocese as of late as it at least appeared to a great number of us (this was later refuted by the person who it appeared was promoting it) that the laity was expected to assume this position while saying the Our Father at the Mass (which we will visit again in a moment.) At least it broke us from the habit of holding hands which was a controversy in and of itself among those who hated it, those who simply found it ritually improper, and those who thought that it was the gesture that would save the Church.

The orans position is an ancient posture of prayer. One stands with arms outstretched and having the palms of one’s hands facing toward the heavens. It is found in Exodus (17;11,12) as well as other places in Scripture. It is also found in art in the catacombs as a position of prayer. One’s body is open to God, offering one’s self as Christ did on the Cross, giving God glory and praise. But the depiction is not necessarily that of person buried there evidenced from the figure adopting this position sometimes being a female though the person buried is male. It is a symbol of the soul of the person praying for us in heaven. The Catholic Encyclopedia sites as “one of the most convincing proofs that the Orans was regarded as a symbol of the soul is an ancient lead medal in the Vatican Museum showing the martyr, St. Lawrence, under torture, while his soul, in the form of a female Orans, is just leaving the body.”

Liturgically it is the role of the priest when he is praying to God on behalf of the gathered Body of Christ. For example at the Collect when, after invoking the people to call to mind that which they want remembered at the Mass by saying, “Let us pray,” he then “collects” the prayers into one by stretching out his hands to God and offering all of the gathered prayers to the Father. Seen in this light we can understand how the gesture has become the gesture of the celebrant. It is interesting to note that the symbolic meaning of the position is such that the deacon may not assume this position during the Mass.

THAT BEING SAID, the gesture has become popularized in recent ages largely through the charismatic movement. As we have seen it is a legitimate position for private prayer. But does it fit at the liturgy? It is a more controversial and complicated symbolic question than one might think. Colin Donivan, STL puts it this way:

“The intention for lay people using the Orans position at this time is, I suppose, that we pray Our Father, and the unity of people and priest together is expressed by this common gesture of prayer. Although this gesture is not called for in the rubrics, it does at least seem, on the surface, to not be in conflict with the sacramental sign system at the point when we pray Our Father. I say on the surface, however, since while lay people are doing this the deacon, whose postures are governed by the rubrics, may not do it. So, we have the awkward disunity created by the priest making an appropriate liturgical gesture in accordance with the rubrics, the deacon not making the same gesture in accordance with the rubrics, some laity making the same gesture as the priest not in accordance with the rubrics, and other laity not making the gesture (for various reasons, including knowing it is not part of their liturgical role). In the end, the desire of the Church for liturgical unity is defeated.”

Oh, leave it to Rob to come with such a question . . .

BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE

Not all that long ago the family house was sold. Nobody lived there anymore and the large Georgian Revival structure that became a century home this year did not lure any family members into buying and living in it. The house is not the family, selling it cannot take away your memories, but there is still a sense of loss to this day. In fact, I still dream about that house. At one time I toyed with the idea of buying it just to keep it in the family but I am glad I did not. I would have been broke and even more insanely busy than I am. It was the right thing to do to sell it.

My sister and I took a walk past it not too long ago. The front door was damaged, the lawn was not well tended and there was junk in the back yard. We knew we could never go down that street again. It is alright to wish that things were different. And it is Okay to be sad. And it is also good to accept that which is and move on for here was not an injustice, just an unfortunate happenstance.

I cannot imagine that this much different from people who will be experiencing parish closings soon. A lot of people. No, “Church” is not buildings. Closing a church cannot erase your memories. But it will be unsettling to be a stranger in place in which very intimate aspects of your life took place.

My home parish of Sacred Heart, the original building, was sold when I was still very young. It was a small but grand English Gothic structure. I was as comfortable there as I was in my bedroom. It was our building. And it hurt when it closed and we moved to the new structure down the street. I went back to visit it and had to ask strangers permission to look around.

It was only recently, now that day is actually coming and I have spoken with some priests who will have to face the prospect of the parish which they have served is closing that I have taken to heart what it is they must be going through. The parish at which they acted as “father” will be gone. The office in which they counseled will be closed. The home in which they lived will be sold. It is one thing to have a new assignment, it is another to have a new assignment because your previous assignment has been obliterated.

It is absolutely true that we cannot keep so many parishes up and running. We do not have the priests, we do not have the resources, and quite frankly in many cases we do not have the need. (I thank God that I am not the one making these decisions. No matter what is done – or not done – those men trying their hardest to make it go as best as possible will have people very angry with them no matter how honorable their intentions are.) And yes priests should have the apostolic spirit to pick up and move and do whatever kind of service that is expected of them (and they will for they are good men!) but they are also human and I imagine for many this will be very hard.

The diocese is already preparing to help in a special way these men who will have to face these difficult futures, but keep them in your prayers. They will need much spiritual help too. It may be understood intellectually that this was long in coming, but that does not always translate into a won heart. May their hearts be healed.

This was given to me by a parishioner. “Father Bruno’s PRAYER FOR PRIESTS” 1925

O almighty and eternal God, look upon the face of Your Christ, and for love of Him who is the eternal High-priest, have pity on your priests. Remember, O most compassionate God, that they are but weak and frail human beings. Stir up in them the grace of their vocation which in them by the imposition of the Bishop’s hands. Keep them close to You, lest the enemy prevail against them, so that they may never do anything in the slightest degree unworthy of their sublime vocation.

O Jesus, I pray You for Your faithful and fervent priests; for Your unfaithful and tepid priests; for You priests laboring at home or abroad in distant mission fields; for Your tempted priests; for Your lonely and desolate priests; for Your sick priests; for Your aged priests, for Your dying priests; for the souls of Your priests in purgatory.

But above all I commend to You the priests dearest to me: the priest who baptized me; the priest who absolved me from my sins; the priest at whose Masses I assisted and who have me Your Body and Blood in Holy Communion; the priest who taught and instructed me or helped me and encourage me; all the priest to whom I am indebted in any other way, particularly . . . O Jesus, keep them all close to Your heart, and bless them abundantly in time and in eternity. Amen

GUEST BLOG - YOU KNOW WHAT?

BIG MISTAKE: Or maybe not. C. asked why a certain topic was not covered in homilies and I said, "Oh, people know about that." She set me straight about that and some other topics. So I asked her to give me a list of other things she thought people were uncatechized about. What do you think?

Apparently God got sick of waiting for me to work up the courage to talk to a friend of mine about the Faith and He prompted HER to bring up the subject. We talked for hours one night about the Catholic Church, and to make the point that 12 years of Catholic school left us uncatechized, I told her a bunch of random things that we were never taught, such as:

The poor souls in purgatory can’t pray for themselves, but they can pray for us.


What the beatific vision is and what heaven will be like.

That you get your body back at the end of the world. (She was ecstatic about that one.)


That you have a guardian angel assigned to you and no one but you for life, and other angel-y facts.
Where the devil came from.

We’re supposed to take a sacrifice every Friday in honor of our Lord’s passion.


That the family is a reflection of the Trinity.

That missing mass on Sunday is a mortal sin (but she is excused when she has to work because she is a nurse)


That all suffering has redemptive value for yourself and the world. (We both thought it was only when you suffered for the Faith directly, but your stubbed toes count too!)

That her intense dislike of clapping, no kneelers, and bad music during mass doesn’t mean she’s crazy – it means she has a good sense of the sacred.

My friend related how she went to a Baptist church and the preacher’s sermon clearly and specifically told her the meaning of a scripture passage and how she should change her daily life to follow it. She said that all the Catholic homilies she had heard in her life didn’t amount to this one sermon. She clenched her hands desperately in front of her and pleaded, “Why won’t they teach us?!!!” She also charged me, “You go tell your priest friend what we talked about tonight!” Well, Fr. V then charged me to blog about it, so here you go…stuff we need to hear in homilies:

What a “just war” is and that extreme pacifism is wrong.

The dangers of contraception, that NFP works, and that overpopulation is a myth.


How do we defend the faith against the claims of popular books like The Davinci Code or The God Delusion.

Why gay marriage is wrong and how to defend traditional marriage.


What mortal sin is – SPECIFICALLY! (I never knew getting drunk or high was, for example)

Sex in general (you don’t have to be graphic to be enlightening)


Occult practices to avoid (Tarot cards, psychics)

Abortion is never necessary.


Evolution and creation and the Church’s stance.

What exactly does it mean to rest on Sunday? Can I shop?


Religious life is great – not lonely.

EWTN exists, as do other great media (I’m surprised no one knows this)


Divorce and annulments and what they mean – can I date a divorced person?

Dangers of porn (and that it’s a moral sin – again, no one knows)


What should my criteria be for what movies and TV I watch and what radio and music I listen to – SPECIFICALLY!

Devotions in general – rosary, scapular, Sacred Heart & First Fridays, Immaculate Heart and

First Saturdays, etc.

How do I decide who to vote for?


Life issues – Terri Shiavo, stem cell research, euthanasia

In short…..if it’s in the Catechism or the newspaper, we need to hear about it or we can’t live and defend our faith! It is nice to have a formal talk outside of mass and cover a topic properly, but only “the choir” shows up for those things anyway. For most people, what comes from the pulpit is the only instruction they will ever get, period. The pulpit is an OPPORTUNITY that the lay people don’t have – it’s difficult to find an opening for these subjects in everyday conversation, but EXPECTED at church. Priests have an AUTHORITY the lay people don’t have – why should anyone believe my theological ramblings? Lastly, my family and friends might hate me for telling them the Truth, (“Hey, did you know that since your marriage was never intended to be open to children it is invalid?”) but a priest can say these things from the pulpit with relative immunity.
Please everyone, stuff the comment box with your additions to the list!

HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU HERE!

Considering that we live at the beginning of the third millennia and could have things quite bad architecturally, I feel rather fortunate to have the cathedral building that we do in the Diocese of Cleveland. Yet something about Saint John’s always made feel a bit uncomfortable and for the longest time I could not put my finger on exactly what that something was.

It finally became clear to me about ten years ago. I was singing in the choir in the loft for ordination. The organ pipes block the view for the choir and so if you want to see the goings on when you are not singing, you have to turn and look at a mirror positioned on the back wall. It is a long mirror horizontal with the floor. The view that it affords revealed what had caused my sense of tension with the building. You can experience what I did with the picture below. (It works much better in person but since you can’t all come here this will have to do.)

First, cover over the bottom half of the picture from about the height of a person down. Notice where the focus of the picture is. All the lines draw you to the back wall where the reredos is (and where the altar used to be.) Now, cover the opposite part of the picture from about the height of a person on up. Now notice where the focus is. It is about twenty-five yards forward where the new altar is. The use and the construction of the building are in contrast. It has an unsettling effect.

This happens in many church buildings because in many ways we are trying to look like one thing while in reality implementing another. At St. John’s, the top half of the picture suggests the symbolism of the mass in a much different way than the bottom half. What does the top half of the picture suggest? The people and the priest face (liturgical and in this case actual) east (toward the sun/Son) like Moses leading the people through the desert to the Promised Land. It is through Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit that we are led to the Father in heaven represented by the angles and the saints in the reredos.

The bottom half of the picture suggests the symbolism in a different way. The priest is not in a “leader of the procession” position but has turned and is in a “teacher” or confronting position. The action does not at first seem to lead beyond the particular group of people to something beyond however our theology of the mass (at least officially) has not changed. Every prayer is still being directed to the Father in heaven through the Son by the power of the Holy Spirit on behalf of the Body of Christ.

Now, my opinion on which way a priest should face and five dollars will get you a cup of coffee and a biscotti. However, I will say this: It is far more challenging to properly symbolize what is happening at the mass with the priest facing the people as opposed to facing the same way as the people and so it will take a great amount of care on the part of pastors and ministers and catechists and parents and even worshippers to instruct, understand, and (especially on the part of priests) to properly use bodily symbolism to get across the true aim and nature of the mass.

The biggest obstacle to overcome is the idea that, although the priest is facing the congregation, he by and large is not addressing them. Many priests make eye contact with the congregation as they pray the words in the Sacramentary. Tabernacles were moved out of our churches because we were told by liturgists that is was confusing for the people. This is far more confusing. For years as a younger person I thought that I was being addressed (video example) rather than having the understanding that this was my privileged overhearing of the prayers being offered to the Father, “On the night He was betrayed . . .” (Perhaps that plays a part in my ego.) Yet there are parts addressed to the Father, parts addressed to the Body of Christ and parts to Jesus. That was clearer formally. If you were being addressed the priest turned toward you, if God, toward the East. Now, by our use of our eyes, our voice, and the position of our bodies we need to convey the same thing. It is much more difficult but absolutely necessary.

And it is also dangerous for the priest to over emphasize celebrating so that “people can see what is going on.” Taking that effort to the extreme leads to glass chalices and ciboria in order to make it easier for “the people” to see. Do you know what there is to see? Nothing. When the bread and wine turn into the body and blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ, it will still look exactly the same. We are to look with the eyes of faith. We don’t need to see Him other than when we are afforded those short opportunities at the mass to give him worship and praise. To exaggerate “seeing,” is to divert attention away from what it is we are called to do and believe at the mass. This too is confusing. We walk by faith, not by sight and our symbols, actions, and gestures must reflect this.

Ah well – enjoy your coffee and biscotti.

IN OTHER NEWS:

If churches are to be “catechisms in stone,” great care must be used when messing with the symbolism during remolding. Below is an example. What is wrong with this shrine symbolically? The answer tomorrow.

TU ES SACERDOS IN AETERNUM

PART II of My Vocation Story (Sorry it is so long.)

College over meant facing the real work-a-day world and I loved it. I had a great time working in a number of places as a light designer, set designer, stage carpenter, prop master, stage manager, director, and various and sundry other jobs that kept me employed and life interesting.

The thing that was attractive about the theater was the idea that if someone attended a performance, their life had to be effected. They would either have to reaffirm what they already believed or they would be challenged to explore new ideas. They would have to think.

The problem was there was not always any control over the message and if I wanted to eat, I would have to do a great job and putting across messages that I detested. One day I was stage-managing a show that was called something like “The Seven Princesses.” There are only two things that come to mind about the show: The set represented the legs of a woman spread – and – well – I really don’t want to describe the rest of the set, and the women with whom I was friends had to wear costumes that I felt were beneath their dignity. One night this notion came over me like a sickening cloud and I knew then that I could not do this for the rest of my life. The message must be one that I can believe in or I could not be a part of it.

There was a church that had perpetual adoration in town and so a visit was made late that night and a deal was struck with God. If He would allow me to accomplish 5 life goals, then I would look into the seminary again. These were long-term goals. At best I estimated they would take a decade to accomplish. Four of the five were done before the end of summer. God can be like that.

Working in another town and attending daily mass during Lent worried that I might finish the last of the five goals, a priest, Fr. Keller, tapped me on the shoulder and said that he wanted to speak to me after mass. In the sacristy with no hesitation he asked, “Did you ever think about the priesthood?” I laughed and said that it had been considered. Pressed as to what was holding me back I told him of my fifth goal: to have all of my student loans paid off. His response was basically that this last goal was (rubbish) and that he was personally going to take me to visit the seminary on Monday (a dark day for the theater.)

I thought we were going to check the place out and look around. It turns out there were meetings and an application form and just like that I was back home telling my Dad (anti-Church) and Mom (a saint) that I was applying to go back to school (again), and not only school but to the seminary.

As you probably have figured out, I was accepted. But I still did not go in. There were some jobs that I promised to do (and wanted to do) and so put it off for another year.

If you are considering a priestly or religious vocation, note that it is not at this point that the gates are locked and your life course is set. This is just the courtship phase so to speak. My third year the live-in experience was horrible to put it mildly. The good part about it was, that although I HATED the situation, I loved ministering. But my impression was that those in charge at this particular period wanted no part of me in the priesthood. Three quarters of the way through the year I had enough. I was willing to become a priest, it was choice number one, but there were other things that I could do and if they didn’t want me there, that would be just fine.

I packed my bags and started making the appropriate calls informing people that I was leaving. Here the Holy Spirit played a role in making everyone unavailable except for my spiritual director who imparted good, calm advice (which is why I recommend a spiritual director for everyone.) He said, “Don’t give them the satisfaction. Make ‘em kick you out.” So I attacked the rest of the year with that attitude and it ended on a good note followed by a couple of fabulous years of formation and then (thanks be to God) ordination.

This may seem lengthy, but it really is the bare bones version of a longer story. Pulling out these highlights may make is it seem like a clear path, but it was not. And I was extremely fortunate to have family, friends, parish, and pastor who were exceedingly supportive, not something that a lot of guys have, and I owe those supporters much.

Bishop Gries came to St. Clare this past Thursday for confirmation and in his homily told a story about his mother who died about a year ago. He was going through her prayer book and came across a letter she wrote to God. In it she asked God how she could be so blessed that her son, the fruit of her womb, could call on God and make Jesus present on the altar. It still amazes me too. I still get chills when the congregation says, “May the Lord accept this sacrifice at your hands, for the praise and glory of His Name, for our good and the good of all His Church.” What an honor!

If you are contemplating a religious vocation, know of my prayers and if I can answer any questions, please feel free to Email me. In the Diocese of Cleveland, my classmate Fr. Mike Gurnick is in charge of vocations. He is still getting his feet wet but will work with you in any way he can to help you in your discernment. God bless.

THE PRIEST AND THE BIRD

Walking out of the store yesterday I saw a pleasant enough looking young lady riding in a car. She had the window rolled down, her hand extended and her middle finger pointing toward God. At first I thought the thoughtful gesture was aimed in my direction, but then she caught sight of me in my Roman collar and her finger wilted like a wet, hot noodle in boiling water. Simultaneously there was apparently something that she wanted to look at intently in the exact opposite direction from whence I was standing.

Sometimes people wonder if religious garb is passé or unnecessary. Hollywood clearly thinks otherwise. If you need religious symbolism to get a point across, out come the habits and the collars (and the candles and the statues . . .).

I find it patently unfair that when some organizations (who shall remain anonymous) want to raise money all of a sudden out come pictures of nuns in habits that they have not worn for years. But that is because they know the symbolism does something. (That is not to say that there are not perfectly good nuns who do good work who do not wear habits.)

Think of a pan of a crowd in a news segment that catches a priest or sister in religious garb. For that instant, thoughts of Church, God, and Catholicism pop into mind.

When I was a baby priest, occasionally I would be walking down the street and catch a glimpse of myself with my collar on in a store window. It would jolt me into remembering that I was living a very public Catholic life involving powerful symbols and that my actions meant something to other people. It is not about me, a humbling lesson to learn, but about that collar and what it is supposed to represent.

For good or bad, symbols play a huge role in our lives. What a blessing to use this gift to remind people that even in a parking lot of a strip mall on a Thursday God is still present and that we should live our lives accordingly.

EVERYBODY CALLS ME FATHER

Today's post is the result of two ideas. The first comes from the notion that you are far more interesting that you think you are. The reason people's lives in books and movies seem so interesting is that they have writers who who cut out all the mundane and unnecessary stuff to a particular storyline (except the sex of course - *sigh* - Okay, I've got it! They're having sex. Can we move along?) I thoroughly believe that something happens to you everyday or nearly everyday that would make a good story if the time were taken to contemplate it or if it could be seen it from the outside. Your life is foreign and interesting to somebody.

The second notion comes from people always asking, "So what do you do as a priest?" The response usually begins with, "What day?" because there isn't an average day in the life of . . .

So last January I tried a little experiment. Every day I would write a short story about what happened the previous day. One to show that something story-worthy happens in average people's lives and two to give an answer to the question, "What a day in the life of a priest like?" What follows is from the first day, January 12th.

Incidentally, the title of this blog entry, "Everybody Calls Me Father" is the title of a best selling book that my first pastor, Fr. Hilkert (RIP) wrote when he was a young priest.

JANUARY 12TH

When the phone in the common room rings, it is not good news. This is the emergency line. Someone is dead or someone thinks someone will soon be dead. It only rings when nobody is around. It is the last chance to catch a priest and it rang just in time. I was on my way out to hear first confessions at a neighboring parish.
“Hello Father,” came the voice on the other end of the line, “This is Dunley Funeral home.”
Someone was dead.

There was to be a funeral the next day for a man who had suffered with leukemia for many years. A couple days before I had anointed him while his wife cried. He was barely able to speak or move and she was as sad as if he had already gone and died. “I can’t live without him,” she said. And she didn’t. The family had gone to pick her up for the evening calling hours and found her dead on the floor. She couldn’t live without him.

“Father, could you go to the hospital and comfort the family?” asked the funeral director. I replied “Of course,” as if it was the most natural and comfortable thing to do, but deep down I was sick to think of it. The neighboring parish was called and warned that I would either be late or perhaps absent all together. I put on my coat, and headed for the hospital.

I suppose people expect priests to be brave in these situations, to know what to say and what to do, and indeed I’ve known Godly men who were just so, but that is not the case with me. It was with great trepidation that the emergency room door was opened. What will they expect? How emotional will they be? Will I say or do the right thing?

The hospital staff is exceptionally kind and helpful and show the way to the waiting room with apologetic smiles and concerned brows. Nobody in the room looks familiar and there are a couple of uneasy moments while everyone tries to figure out if we are there for each other. Finally a lady stands and introduces herself as the sister to the person who died. She is crying. Her arms move in such a fashion that I can’t tell if she is simply frustrated or looking for a hug. I put my arm around her shoulder and let her determine if she wants more of a hug or not.

After a few words of condolences we “go to see her.” There is finally someone whom I recognize. She is also the only person not breathing. Great sobs are let out and tears fall like rain. “Why don’t we say some prayers?” That seems to bring some amount of comfort.

“Would anyone like to talk?” I ask thinking that maybe someone would like to speak privately. This is the hardest. This is when questions like “Why?” come up. Even if this question were answerable, it is not answerable here and now. Though theologically convincing and understandable, it makes no sense standing in an emergency room looking at the dead body of the one you love if you’ve not thought about it, prayed about it, believed it, and were ready for it.

“There is someone else you should see Father.” The dead lady’s daughter was in yet another emergency room bed with heart problems. She was given the anointing of the sick. We talked for a bit and then it was time for me to go; the family was turning in on itself to begin communal mourning and while welcome, I was no longer necessary.
A five-minute drive brought me to the neighboring parish where I was originally headed. There were still lines of second graders making their first confessions. Sitting down, a young person came over to me dressed in the finest of clothes and with an excited look. “Bless me father for I have sinned, this is my first confession.” I smiled back and was genuinely happy to be there on this person’s joyous day. Thus was I yanked from despair to joy, from death to new life, and the hand stretched out over the young penitent’s head offering absolution still had the oil from the blessing of the sick on its finger tips.