WELL, HEY, LET'S TALK MORE ABOUT ME

Lots of great things have been happening at St. Sebastian Parish.  Well - things that I find extremely fascinating and that I am excited about and want to talk about, but there is a limited audience with whom one can share that kind of excitement.

It is possible to share your success stories with your priest friends - especially your classmates and your close associates.  But there is a limit.  There is no doubt that they are happy for you and wish you the best, but as one gentlemen spoke of last week (not clergy) there is that moment when you can see the switch flip behind the eyes of your friends and instead of interest they are now on auto pilot waiting for you to finish or at least taking a breath long enough for them to say, “So what else is happening?”

And really - that is understandable.  I admit to being the same way.  We may be brother priests, and it may be that we are all supposed to pull together to make this Church thing work, but we were unwittingly trained (things are changing now) to make OUR parish and OUR school for which we are responsible as healthy as they can be and unfortunately that inspires a bit of competition.  I think of my classmate down in New Franklin who has seminarians coming out of his ears, who runs some wonderful spiritual programs that perhaps every parish should have, and who is so darn thoughtful that I want to beat him with a stick.  So hearing of his many and varied successes, I start thinking, “Hey you big oaf, why don’t YOU get on the stick and accomplish more like your classmate here?”  That’s when the switch flips behind my eyes, I wait for a break, and then ask, “So what else is going on?” maybe to stop feeling guilty that I am not accomplishing more.

*sigh* 

That is where a good dad comes in.  A guy in the parish and I were lamenting the deaths of our fathers.  A good father as a male role model can be The Guy that cheers you on.  There is no competition with Dad.  When you were younger he was already better at everything than you (or at least seemed to be) and when you were older, he’s already moved on to other things and you are not the competition.  Hopefully he sees something of himself in you and so can be proud of your accomplishments and instead of the switch flipping behind the eyes, he can say, “Tell me more.  Then what happened?  That is awesome!”

To those dads who can do this - your sons thank you.  In this way you exemplify The Father and the way He loves His sons and daughters.  We need more male role models like you.  You are more important and awesome than you know - more vital to the mission of Christ than you can realize.

Thanks both dads and those who love us like a dad.

THE TEST THAT TAKES YEARS TO COMPLETE

Who do you call father?

For many people it is not that easy of a question.  Simply donating part of himself in order for you to be created does not necessarily earn a man the title father other than on some governmental and ecclesial forms.  The coach that treats you well and teaches you how to be a man or woman might earn the title over the guy who gave five minutes of his time to see that you were conceived and then never had much of a positive role in your life again.

Calling someone your father or “father figure” implies a good and healthy relationship.  It means that there is a certain amount of trust and security between the two in order for one to call the other father.  It means that the title has been earned.

In today’s Gospel we are given permission to call God, “Our Father.”  We are called His children, brothers and sisters in Christ.  The ramifications are mind blowing.  In all of mythology, what other god asked to be called father?  In fact, most Muslims would find referring to God as Our Father as bordering if not downright blasphemy.  Yet we are instructed to do this by Jesus.

Jesus’ entire mission was to restore the rifts between each of us and between us and our Heavenly Father.  Original sin began the rift and His mission was to restore the relationship.  At the Mass, the highpoint of this unity with God is when we are present for the offering of Christ when the priest intones, “Through Him, with Him, in Him . . . all glory and honor is Yours Almighty Father for ever and ever” and the congregations cries out, “Amen!  Amen! Amen!”  At this point, assuming that we are in a state of grace, we are as closely untied to Our Father as we can be in this life.  And what are the first words out of our mouth after this moment?  We dare to say, “Our Father, Who are in heaven, hollowed be Thy Name . . .”

This Sunday is Father’s Day.  When you pray that prayer this Sunday at Mass realize the full import of that moment and that word and say it with awe, reverence, humility, gratitude, and love.

IS IT TIME FOR THE RETURN OF THE GOOD DAD?

As mentioned Monday I was with some other priests during the Super Bowl.  Although it turned out to be a great game, at first I had more investment in the commercials than in the particular teams.  At one point during the commercials we looked at each other and said, “What is this?  Good Father Week or something?”  There just seemed to be a preponderance of “good Dad” commercials.

 

It is sad that we are so incredibly used to poor father figures in movies, in sit-comes, in books, and in the public awareness that we would find the presentation of positive role models odd.  One of them actually made me tear up a bit – not something you want to do during a football game, and so I excused myself to get another snack before anyone would notice.

 

A commentary recently said that Super Bowl commercials reflect where the nation is at the moment.  I don’t know if I would go quite that far, but it is an indication of something going on within at least a portion of our culture.  If it wouldn’t sell, they wouldn’t have used it for a commercial.

 

Is it true?  Are we ready for positive father figures?  Do we yearn of the “good father?”  Are we ready to inspire instead of pander?  Are we willing to reinvest in the family?  As they used to say, “Stay tuned.”

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: REV. YOUR ENGINES

When I was a very young man one of my best friend’s Dad was running for city council and they asked me to help them deliver flyers door to door.  The Father (who won in spite of what I am about to tell you) told me, “Call adults by their first names.  They love that.”  I couldn’t do it despite his prodding.  Mom had long beaten it into us (figuratively) that one never calls anybody by their first name unless invited to do so.  So it will ever be, “Mrs. Jones” until she says, “Oh please, call me Mary.”

 

Now I will admit that I have relaxed this rule quite a bit being a pastor as too often I have found people offended that I call them by their surname, there being understood a more intimate relationship between pastor and flock.  But I still recommend calling a priest by his surname “Father Jones” unless he offers otherwise, “Oh please call me Father Jack – or Jack.” 

 

I don’t go by my first name - ever.  And by ever I mean since I was born.  I had two uncles, and a grandpa named John.  There were 5 Johns in my grade school class, and 2 out of the 5 men in my ordination class are named John.  So I’ve always gone by various aliases none of which is very conducive with the priesthood.  It also helps a lot when trying to figure out who you are talking about.  Often a person will come up to me and say something like, “Do you know Father Mark?” and I might respond, “Which one?  There are a bunch of Fr. Marks.”  “Well, he’s about this tall and has hair that kind of does this thing . . .”  “I might know which one you are talking about.  What about him?”  “He wants you to call him.”

 

Anyway, there are a good number of reasonable explanations for why a priest might want to only go by his surname and it is just common courtesy (with anyone) to begin there. 

 

A priest is properly addressed as “Father” as in “Hey!  Father Jones!  How’s it going?”  One would never say in Catholic circles, “Hey!  Reverend Jones!  How’s it going?”  “The Reverend” is used when speaking of the priest in the third person such as in “Our speaker today will be The Rev. Jack Jones.”  In written formal capacities (such as on envelopes, programs, and the like) he is referred to as “The Rev. John Jones.”  “The reverend” never stands alone as in, “I talked to the reverend about it.”  That would be like saying, “I talked to the Mr. about it.” “The reverend” is also never used with just the last name as in The Rev. Jones.

 

THAT BEING SAID these rules are so often trampled over that to use the proper salutations sometimes seems wrong.  “Father” is often used in formal situation such as in wedding programs.  “Celebrant . . . . Father Jack Jones.”  And very often “Reverend” is used with the article dropped.  In fact, this is so often done that even some very reputable Catholic etiquette books will offer this as an option in certain situations even though, strictly speaking, it was not intended to be used in this way though now it is excepted often enough.

MONDAY DIARY: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

Ah . . .

Father’s Day.

I decided to take the day easy. Since Dad is no longer with us I was going to enjoy the day myself having, at least, the title father. Activities at the parish were done about 3:30 and so I went on a bike ride and hoped to go over to some friend’s house for an outdoor get-together – but alas a fantastic rainstorm hit.

For those of you who read last week, there is an extra dog in the house. We did finally reach her owners. They are out of town. We have been trying to get a handle on when they think they might be back but they are mostly incommunicado. About the only thing I was able to divine was her name.

It’s moonbeam.

So Moonbeam, Sebastian, and I were home alone – they were itching to get out and I was itching for them to be out. The garage door was opened and I sat in a folding chair dry from the rain and threw balls out into the yard for them to chase – taking advantage of every puddle of water they could find.

Coming inside was when I finally got wet. There was rain coming in several places in the rectory. (Turns out it was good that I was home!) Now that I think of it – this almost always happens on a Sunday. Go figure. Last time I went up on the roof I got out three ladders to make it up there before I figured out that there is a trap door from the top floor which would require no ladders at all. The roof was indeed ankle deep in water. The stately trees that grace our property also have their downside – they shed – A LOT – and though the roofs have been cleaned twice already this summer, the drains were plugged once again. Pulling all the muck away from the drains the water whooshed down the drains like it couldn’t wait to get off of the roof.

The second roof also had standing water. About three inches. But the drain was not blocked – it must have been plugged. The dogs and I went about building to building looking for places were there might be a plunger. Finding one we went back. The dogs could actually join me on this roof and they jumped and rolled enjoying the three or four inches of water. It almost seemed a shame to unplug the drain. A couple of pumps however and the drain unplugged and down went the water.

Made me feel rather useful and he-manish saving the rectory. That was a nice Father’s Day present.

GIVE CORN YOUR SPORN

I have a friend (we’ve grown a lot since this took place) that used to think that it was hysterical to send his priest buddy suggestive material. It was never pornographic per se but it was highly suggestive. One day I had to say to him, “You know, I am trying to live a chaste life and you sending me these Emails is like sending pictures of bottles of alcohol to someone who is trying to stay away from drinking inappropriately.” It stopped from that day forward.

It is one thing not to trowel for porn or suggestive material on your computer. It is another for it to arrive from friends. It is not uncommon today for pictures to be shot from phone to phone. “Hey! Did you see this one?” No brown paper wrapping, no locked doors – but complete openness and acceptance of the practice.

Men: there is only one way that it will stop. It will not run its course and disappear. It will stop when you stop it. It takes courage (and who would have thought that there would be the day that NOT wanting porn would take courage?) There need not be any big production or announcement. Simply kindly ask that these types of messages no longer be sent to you. Others will eventually get the point.

Depending on your situation you may have a certain amount of grief dumped on you. But remember this, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” and give thanks that you were found worthy every time it happens.

Who does it hurt? Even if it is free and even if it is a picture shot voluntarily it still creates a market hungry for new models. It eats them up and spits them out creating an absurdly high suicide rate among porn stars. The money that is produced by porn is not used to support you schools or beautify your city. The men that watch it are not training themselves to look on women as human persons deserving dignity and respect. It steals lives for those who become wickedly addicted and not only their lives but away from their wives and children (or future wives and children – more poisoness than second hand smoke and far more insidious.)

And today it is becoming just as much a habit among women.

But it does not need to be so with you – from you – or around you.

Take courage.

FRIDAY FAIR - COLLARED AS A FATHER

The other day I was mired in paperwork that I really needed to get done. As the vocations director for our diocese, Fr, Gurnick, once stated, “Even if you are a miracle worker, you still have to get the paperwork in.” It was also field day at the school and the kids were out on the lawn having a ball. I wanted to go out and visit with the kids but then thought, “No, my job is getting this paperwork done before having fun like that.” Then my guardian angel reminded me, “No, you role is as a spiritual father. Your job, or rather your vocation is also going out and spending time with these children.” I was not shirking responsibility, I was fulfilling it in going out (as long as I eventually also get the paperwork done.)

This all brings us to the term, “Father.” Foxie wrote in some time back and asked about the use of this term for our clergy. I don’t intend to defend the use of the term which can be very controversial particularly in Protestant circles. If you want to find out more about that, here is a very good article with a Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur. The term “Father” does carry with it some symbolic meaning however.

When a couple comes in to see me for marriage and they are not chaste we have a discussion about it. I inform them that what I am telling them is not only spiritually healthy but with an aim of giving them the best chance for a successful marriage. I give them some propositions and though we will visit the topic again I am not going to police them. I am their spiritual father, not their “Daddy.” “Catholics know that as members of a parish, they have been committed to a priest’s spiritual care, thus they have great filial affection for priests and call them "father." Priests, in turn, follow the apostles’ biblical example by referring to members of their flock as "my son" or "my child" (See link above.)

MONDAY DIARY - CHAPTER 14

The homily for my Dad's funeral was a partial reflection on our relationship with God and so I thought for this week to post it as the Monday Diary (it seems to work). As usualy with my homilies, it does not read well and changes with the preaching of it, but you get the idea. Thank you again for all your prayers and support. Especially surprising was the support from the cyber community. Wow. Thank you guys. May God bless you all.

I will tell you the truth, I was worried about my Dad. Not only was he not much of a Church man he was not much of a God man either though he tollerated my my foray into both realms. He once told me that he was glad that I was going to be a priest. “Religion is for weak people,” he said, “and at least you will be a leader.”

Dad was extremely practical and of a scientific mindset. For something to matter to him, for it to be believed, for it to make it on his radar screen it had to be out in the open readily available to touch, sight, and scrutiny. That bled into his life even about the house. Things were not in drawers or closets or boxes but out in the open. Even his desk was covered with papers and projects much to the consternation of Mom who liked things neat and tidy. “A place for everything and evething in its place,” she used to say. I like to think I am like Mom, but I am afraid that I am much more like my Dad in that matter. Fr. Klasinski, my last pastor, used to say, “You have so much STUFF.” I don’t think I did, it was just that all my stuff was out in the open.

This needing to see and handle and prove and use extended, for Dad I think, even to God. For most of his life God was just a bit too invisible, required to much quietness, was a bit too theoretical to be believed.

Those of you who knew my Dad know that he loved, relished, and adored life. The world was his playground. He woke up excited in the morning and went to bed regretuly at night that the day was over. Especially after retirement it was not at all unusual for him to wake up in the morning to work in the garden, then run out to see if the guys were windsurfing at the lake, take a trip out to the airport to see if anyone wanted to go up, then home to eat dinner and back out to go on a long bike trip which might include a visit to his sister in Pleasantview or Sue down at the city building. And this he did well into his eighties.

And though he loved life, one day we were taking a ride out to Silver Creek to go cross country skiing and he turned to me with tears in his eyes and said, “Do you know why I do all these things? I have to get it all in. Soon there will be nothing, this will all be over.” He truly believed that this life was all there was.

Now this is pretty serious stuff for a son who believes that all of this is temporary. It is nice and beautiful and enjoyable but is not the point of our existance. There is more life, more beauty, more joy yet to come and (I thought) my Father has no concept of it. He has no hope. For me this was sad and so I prayed for him in a special way every day that he would not live life merely in fear of death.

The first time I had an inkling that things might be different was when Mom died. Dad was destroyed; completely bereft. He may have not known Scripture but he did believe that they were one and part of him died when she died. It was made all the worse because he did not have the hope of a future meeting. For him his wife, Mom, simply ceased to exist. That was when Uncle Frank reported that he had taken Dad aside and prayed with him; perhaps the first time he had done so not under deress since he was a lad.

A few months later I was cleaning his house (something he was adament about not needing done) and I came across a prayer he had secreted away that someone sent in the mail. It asked for God’s help in belief. I quietly put it away. God and prayer were not topics about which we spoke civily.

Eventually it became clear that Dad needed constant attention and so he went to live at Pleasantview with his sister. (I must say that Pleasantview is an outstanding institution that bent way over backwords for Dad. I’ve yet to encounter a place that does so much for residents as this place did for Dad. Instead of medicating into oblivian they worked hard at just plain tuckering him out every day.) Every now and then I would ask him if he would like to be anointed (I didn’t want to force anything one him) and he would get a sour look on his face (a kin the look I might get if you ask me if I would like to have some fish) and flatly say, “No!”

I know some of my brother priests visited him from time and so I asked them to offer the sacraments to him should they be there in the off chance that he just did not want to receive them from his son. I thank you for your efforts.

It got to the point that I no longer asked or brought my oils with me. One day he was feeling particularly down and we had emptied our bag of tricks and so in an off hand way I said, “All that’s left is anointing Dad, I’m out of ideas.” “Okay,” he said. I was in shock. I said to my sister, “Keep him occupied, I am going to run out and get my oils before he changes his mind!” When we were done there was a quiet time and we could see him thinking. “Thank you,” he said in his most officious voice. That was amazing and my sister and I looked at each other with eyebrows raised.

Things began to change quite a bit after that. Dad was confused and could not understand what was the matter with him. His body in which he had put so much trust was turning on him. Once again, after everything else failed I said, “Well Dad, you could trying praying.” “Fine. How?” he asked in his gruff way in these matters. “Just ask God to help you.” “Fine. God help me. How’s that?” “That was a good start Dad.”

Then a couple of weeks ago I got the best present that Dad could give. Conversation was difficult. He could be right in the present or the very distant past. You could not ask what he had for lunch and he could not or would not talk about the future. So conversation was more of a monologue of current events from the speaker. I ran out of things to tell him and we sat quietly for a while and then I stood and said, “Well, Dad, I gotta go.” “Okay,” he said. But it didn’t seem quite right to end the conversation on that note and so on a whim, on my way out the door, I said, “God bless you Dad.” “John,” he said causing me to stop and turn, “God bless you too.” For a week I was in a daze. “Wow, I received my Father’s blessing.” This was something I never expected to receive and it was quite the thing to receive it.

Well, this is the way things stand; Dad died with the consolation of the sacraments and we rely on God’s mercy which I believe to be generous. The day before he died I told hom to say the prayer to the Sacred Heart to Whom our family has a particular devotion. “Just say, ‘Jesus, I trust you’ Dad. It is the most powerful prayer I know for you now.” And with that I put my trust in Him.

How appropriate then it seems to have buried Dad on the Feast of Saint Thomas. Doubting Thomas who would not believe until he put his finger into the wounds of Jesus’ hand and his hand into his side. Who know why or if there is a why Dad had to suffer so. But maybe he need to experience wounds, albeit his own, in order to believe and so be ready to go home.

In any event it just goes to show you never know. Never give up on a person. Never give up on love even for the seeming unlovable thereby becoming unloving yourself. Never give up on hope even with the hopeless. Never give up on faith even with the difficult cases. Everyone has their own journey and no two are alike. Some are hard and some are not. But I believe God never gives up on us no matter how “hard” we may be and we should, in turn, never give up on each other.

So Dad, we pray you find you way home and to joy and to God. May you find the best clouds to ski down and Mom to waltz with once more.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, we place our trust in You. Jesus meek and humble of heart, make our hearts, and especially that of the most troubled, like unto Thine.

GOD BLESS YOU

I can’t shake this image.

I was sitting in my place in the unused choir loft during mass a few months back at which was celebrated the Rite of Acceptance for RCIA. This is when the catechumens express their desire to enter into more fully the process of becoming one with Christ’s Church. As part of the ritual the sponsors make the sign of the cross on their person’s forehead, ears, eyes, lips heart, shoulders, hands, and feet. During this time the pastor is reading such things as, “Receive the sign of the cross on your forehead. It is Christ himself who now strengthens you with this sign of His love. Learn to follow Him. Receive the sign of the cross on your ears that you may hear the voice of the Lord. . . .”

Now, in RCIA there is a young couple who is preparing for marriage. He is coming into the Church and she is his sponsor. How moving it was to see her signing and blessing the man she intended to vow her life to and make the father of her children. The priest may have been saying, “Receive the sign of the cross on your lips that you may respond to the word of God,” but it seemed she was saying, “bless these lips with which you show me love, may they be chaste and may the bless our children.” When she blessed his shoulder the priest may have read, “Receive the sign of the cross on your shoulders, that you may bear the gentle yoke of Christ,” but it was as if she were blessing “the shoulders that will bear the labor of man to support the new home we establish in Godly order.”

A desire burned in me then. It was a passionate desire that all couples would love each other to such a degree that not only would they want holiness for each other but that they would take the initiative to manifest that prayer in such a fashion. I don’t have a lot of confidence in many of the things that we do in marriage prep but I do emphasize prayer and especially praying together. But this is even a step further.

I make this plea particularly to men (probably because they can be the least comfortable with it.) As spiritual head of the household do you pray daily for yourself as husband and father, and your family that they may be close to the Lord? Do you fathers bless your children? Unsure of how to do it? Get a copy of the Catholic Household Blessings and Prayers. An example can be as easy as tracing the sign of the cross on your child’s forehead and saying, “May God bless you and protect you.”

If you are not with someone and hope to be, start praying for that person now. Pray that God may bless them and that He may prepare you to be a good partner. And if you are single and plan on staying that way (like me) pray for those who enrich your life, especially your friends. How precious they are.

And finally may God bless you.

DADS AND PORN

As long time readers of Adam’s Ale know, I like to spend some time in prayer and reflection hanging out in the old choir loft (no longer in use) and bell tower here at the Church of Saint Clare. Sitting there and reading I came across a paragraph in Scott Hahn’s book, “A Father Who Keeps His Promises” that led my thoughts racing though a series of connections that I want to share particularly with certain dads.

Here is the paragraph: “After forty long years (in the desert), the first generation had died off, except for Moses and the two courageous spies, Joshua and Caleb. During this time, the second generation was being taught by their Levitical tutors and hopefully rehabilitated from the sinful ways of their parents. But patterns of bad behavior die hard, especially when they’re transmitted from parent to child . . .”

This is the meaning of, “The sins of the father are visited upon his children”. God is not going to punish innocent children for the sins that their parents committed. Just because my father may have cheated at cards does not mean that God is going to punish me for it. Rather the sins that the father (or parent) commits is setting up a pattern of living for his son – for his children. It is a cycle that is difficult to break and requires fathers, in this particular instance, to be incredibly strong and unselfish.

It is astonishing how many men say that their problem with pornography began with the unknowing example of their fathers. Men in their later years tormented that they have this problem that is so hard for them to kick (is that freedom America?) said it all began by finding their father’s (brother’s, uncle’s, neighbor’s dad’s) stash of porn magazines and how they’ve been haunted by it ever since.

Children are inquisitive and snoopy. They aren’t evil. It is what they do. And they find these things and the sins of their fathers haunt them their whole lives as it becomes their sins. I can only imagine what our kids, who are so much more savvy than parents on the computer, can find when snooping about on the home computer that adults think hidden.

Society tells us that it isn’t so bad. It is natural. Kids will get over it. Society does not sit in a confessional. It can be heart wrenching.

Dads with porn: Throw it all out. Today. Get rid of it. Clean it off your computer and make sure that there are controls on your computer never to let it back on again. Don’t let anything of the sort into your house under your Okay. Your sons are counting on you.