READING YOU YOUR (LAST) RITES

The Church no longer has Last Rites.

This is not a Vatican II thing.

We are talking Trent. As far back as then there was the clarification that the danger of death was not a condition for the reception of this sacrament. Unfortunately they did not go so far as to change the name of the sacrament from Extreme Unction then causing people to this day to try to wait to the very last possible second in order to be anointed.

The reason I mention this is because of an incident that happened this past weekend. We had our 80th anniversary celebration of our parish. After a great Mass (but are not all Masses great?) and a picnic and various other activities I retired to my humble abode and unexpectedly fell into a deep sleep on my couch. Waking up some time later I did not bother checking my emergency cell phone thinking that I had slept with it right next to my ear and surely if it had rung I would have heard it.

As it turned out I did not.

Fortunately I happened to check the phone later and found a message asking for “Last Rites” which turned out to be not only for a parishioner but for a family with whom I have been friends since before my priesthood. Thank goodness the call was caught!

Another call came about a week before asking for the same service but I was in Cleveland. It would be a couple of hours before I could make it but fortunately they thought it could wait.

Of course there are always emergencies that lead a person’s life to unexpected peril but for the vast majority of the cases this is not true. It is good to be anointed when it is needed, not trying to wait to the last possible moments as some used to in the early years of the Church with baptism hoping to get a free pass into heaven (since baptism wipes away all sins.) Risky business if you happened to get hit by a first century bus or if your twenty-first century priest decided to go for a walk in the woods and his cell phone does not pick up your call.

The opposite extreme which is equally as bad is getting anointed every time you get a head cold. There must be some serious (not necessarily grave) illness, debilitating chronic condition or extreme old age. A future surgery is also a reason to be anointed. Minor surgery is like Minor Asia: there’s nothing minor about it.

If you get sick and recover you should offer thanks. If you recover but then get sick again, you may also be anointed again. If your condition deteriorates dramatically that is also a condition in which you may be anointed again. If it is a persistent chronic problem and a sufficient amount of time has passed (6 months to a year) you may wish to be anointed again. To be avoided is being anointed as often as you shower. “Fr. X just anointed me but you can too! I could use the blessings Fr. Y.” That would be a bit like stepping out of the confessional and going into the next one just for blessing of it. It is rather an abuse (which is also why we may only receive Communion up to two times in one day and the second time must be in the context of the Mass.)

So plan! Be anointed before that surgery! Be anointed at the onset of illness and do not wait to the last second! It may not happen! And it would have been avoidable.

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK - LXXVII

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND - "Alas! What fiend can suggest more desperate councils than those adopted under the guidance of our own violent and unresisted passions?" From Sir Walter Scott's "The Bride of Lammermore"

QUOTE II - "I'd rather be an optimist and fool than a pessimist and right." From the movie "IQ".

IN OTHER NEWS:

There was a request for a posting of some of the pictures from the trip up into the bell tower of St. Sebastian. Enjoy the view! I love the picture of flowers in front of the church. It is done by volunteers and I think they do a swell job.

With that joy, joy, joy, joy down in his heart, Jay announces Catholic Carnival 184.

My sister sent this in. No, I haven't the slightest idea how it works. Maybe I'll set our math students on to it so that they can explain it to me.

If you are interested, my cousin who, if God so wills it, will be ordained this year has a blog chronicling his summer trip to Guatemala and El Salvador. (Those of you who came to the weekend masses at St. Sebastian saw him receive a recognition from the K of C at the 9:00 and serve at the 11:00 Mass.)

Just a note of interest: Fr. Z from, "What Does This Prayer Really Say?" was in Cleveland this week to help Fr. Ireland of St. Gregory celebrate his 25th anniversary as a priest. Fr. Z is quite the celebrity blogger with about 10,000 original hits per day. (In case you are wondering, there are in the neighborhood of about 200 here exclusive of the weekend.) If you think he knows Church stuff you should tap that brain about baseball. Holy cow! Notice my shadow on the wall to the left?

MONDAY DIARY - CHAPTER 19

The last installment (for now) concerning ordination.

When a seminarian who is about to be ordained asks for some advice, one of the bits that I always give is, “Prepare you Mother. She has no idea what is going to hit her.” Right after the newly ordained, it is typically the newly ordained’s mother that receives the next amount of attention. Fortunately my Mom had other mothers of priests that warned her of the up and coming pandemonium and she was somewhat prepared and had for a number of years written letters to other mothers preparing them for the very public attention that they would receive.

Life changes for the newly ordained priest also. I had a cousin who understood this and so as an ordination present handed me a wrapped book with the mandate, “You are now going to be a very public figure. The only place where people won’t be telling you what to do is in your bedroom and in the kitchen. Learn to cook!” And she handed me a cookbook.

The next day after ordination was the First Mass of Thanksgiving. For our class this would take place on Pentecost Sunday. The Mass at which I would be celebrant was the last of the day and so we busily went about the tasks of preparing the church for the celebration. Priest friends arrived having found replacements at their parishes and seminarians and local boys acted as servers. Fr. Ireland, most recently of St. Gregory the Great and who is celebrating 25 years a priest this year was my MC.

Like the ordination itself, I only remember the Mass in bits and pieces. Listen to Fr. Kumse give the homily, receiving the gifts from my Mom and Sister, being awed that I was at the altar praying the Mass with brother priests behind me, being overwhelmed at holding the Body of Our Lord in my hands, walking out and smiling at the choir who sang a special Slovenian hymn for me.

Fr. Ireland took me aside and said, “Well done. But in the future you do not give the final blessing ‘in the name of’ but simply say, ‘May Almighty God bless you, the Father, Son . . .”

Ooops.

There were then many more blessings and then finally over to the church hall for another dinner. The gym had been transformed into quite the hall and after the late afternoon dinner we headed back into the church for a Litany to Mary and benediction. It had been suggested that confessions then be offered but it was too late and I was too drained and so we headed home and went immediately to bed.

There were days of events yet to come including moving into the rooms that I would soon be occupying as parochial vicar at Saint Ambrose. But as wonderful as that weekend was, it does not compare to waking up every morning loving what I am doing as a priest of Jesus Christ.

SYMBOLIC FRIDAY - PLANTING SEEDS OF FAITH

I was always of a mind that less is more in lent and so always strove to un-decorate during this season. Almost every place I have been has had the opposite opinion however. There are always decorations for lent albeit “lenty” decorations. There are the traditional thorn bushes, seemingly dead grape vines, and leafless twigs in bud. The bulrush represents the humble multitude of the Church. The apple is the symbol of the Fall and of man’s sinful nature which is in need of healing. The violet is the symbol of humility and its color is also apropos for lent.

The passion flower has made its way into art more recently but is not really available on the market. The reason that it is called the passion flower is that with a little imagination one can make out the artifacts of the crucifixion.

The cockle, because it invades fields and chokes off desired crops is associated with sin and sinners invading the Church as in Christ’s parables. Another weed, the dandelion is considered one of the bitter herbs and thus a symbol of Christ’s Passion. The reed should be fairly obvious as it was used to lift the sponge soaked in vinegar to Christ’s lips as He hung upon the Cross. The thistle can be added to this list as a symbol of sin (from Genesis as part of Adam’s curse as the ground would bring forth thistle) and because of its thorns, reminiscent of the crown of thorns.

“Life has always poppies in her hands,” or so it says in the book, “The Portrait of Dorian Grey”. Dorothy almost never returned home because of the poisoned poppies that caused her to fall asleep. Because of their red color they are also used in depictions of the Passion but they are also, symbols of sleep, fertility (interesting combination), ignorance, extravagance, and indifference.

Pansies are a symbol of mediation and remembrance and have traditionally (in art) been a particular symbol for lent. I think an attempt to use them on the altar without deep catechesis could be mighty confusing.

There are two stories about the aspen tree. You might notice that its leaves seem to shake in the summer breeze and legend says that when the aspen learned that it had been chosen to be the tree out of which the Cross was to be made it shook in horror. The other legend says that when all of the other trees bowed in sorrow at the death of Christ on the Cross the aspen refused out of sinful arrogance and its leaves were doomed to shake and shiver thence forth.

The cypress, reported earlier in the symbolic language as used in our cemeteries, is a symbol of death because of its dark leaves and because once chopped down it never springs up again from its roots. The dogwood was once said to be a massive tree like the oak and was originally chosen to be the wood of the Cross and was horrified. Jesus looked with compassion on the tree and transformed it into a twisted, brittle shrub so that it could never be used for such a purpose. Hence the flowers of the dogwood resemble a cross (four petals long and two short) each marked with a rusted, blood soaked nail, and crown of thorns at its heart.

During the Renaissance holly was often used in representations of the Passion though we would find it odd now I suppose since it is so intimately associated with Christmas. As all of the other trees shattered themselves as the axe was brought down on them so that they could not be used as lumber for the Cross, the proud holly would not so defame itself. As a result it is now a twisted shrub, humbled for daring to be so prideful before its maker. The prickly leaves were associated with sin and the red berries with Christ’s blood.

I WILL MAKE YOU FISHERS OF MEN, AND COUNSELORS, AND BANKERS, AND PARTY PLANNERS AND . . .

A number of years ago there was a large meeting of priests and one of the topics of the day was the work load expected of them. There were a few hundred priests present at the general call for discussion. Per forma one of the priests raised his hand, was recognized, stood and said, “What we need to do is get other people to run the parishes so that we can focus on what we were ordained to do; sacraments and teaching!” This was met with a smattering of applause among my confreres, some of it impassioned.

First, a little background: What the Church does in the United States is a bit unique. Ask almost any foreign priest functioning as a parish priest here for a spell. We tend to do more, provide more, expect more as parishes than most of the rest of world. The way I understand it this came about largely through the influence of ethnic parishes. The nationality parish was often the center of the community. The very reason that nationality parishes sprung up in the first place was that there were communities of Catholics that felt excluded, needed a unique experience of community, and looked to the Church for assistance in this new world. As a result the parish became the center of the community. It provided not only sacraments and education but almost anything that the community needed or desired. Sports, social clubs, banking, community dances, picnics, fairs, and what we would call today social services. It was not unheard of for parishes to have such amenities as bowling alleys or the like. At one point at my home parish of Sacred Heart Slovenian Church the pastor built a bar and told people that if they were going to go drinking and waist their money do it at the parish! And then he opened a bar.

Of course there is also the experience of the model of the mega-Protestant-church today that provides every kind of service conceivable (save the sacraments) for those who join along with gourmet donut and a cup of Starbuck’s Coffee. As a result many want to mimic this example of church in the Catholic Church in order to stave off loosing people to “Every Sunday is Donut Sunday” at the latest church down the street.

So now we have mega parishes often providing services comparable with a small city. On the one hand this is pretty great as long as our primary objectives (sacraments and Christian education) do not just become one on the list of services provided. (They must be FIRST and all else flow from it.) But on the other hand the parish is often entrusted to the leadership of just one priest who could not possibly run all of these programs and be ever present to his people and be a fabulous preacher and show up to all of the meetings and promote every club, and who, quite honestly, is probably not qualified to do it all.

So what is the problem of the pastor handing over the reigns to non-clergy and focusing on what a priest is “supposed to do?” The first problem is that the parish priest was ordained to be entrusted with the care of a parish. The way that I see it, to change this would either require a change in the universal Canon Law which governs the Church or that we would become a Church without pastors. A priest would simply be assigned to a parish to provide sacramental services and otherwise not have much to do (Canonically) with the place.

Without this change in law, if something were to wrong on the parish level resulting in a law suit, the person who is ultimately responsible is the pastor (and through him the bishop. And he would be thrilled about this.) In a court room an unacceptable answer to a prosecutor’s (or bishop’s) question is, “I did not know it was happening. I trusted everything to this person.” “But Father, were you not responsible by your own governing law to watch over this person?” “Yes.” “Then why did you not keep a closer eye on what he did or put safe guards in place?” “But I wanted to focus on spiritual matters I trusted this person to do the business aspects.” “And now because of your negligence this happened. You were responsible Father. You should have tried to do something!”

Unless there would be a change in Canon Law (which I do no foresee) or that priests simply become sacramental machines and not pastors of parishes (which at least I do not want), it will require more cooperation between the parish and its pastor. Even if the priest hate it, he must keep his finger on the pulse of everything of consequence at the parish. Much trust and responsibility must be given to others but there also must needs be strict checks and balances. Only with this can we continue to be both healthy and provide all of the services to which we have become accustomed.

It means that priests need to be better trained in these areas. As they are trained to know the limitations of their counseling skills and when to refer someone to more competent professionals, so must they be able to do in parish activities: knowing enough when they are over their heads in order to pass on the day to day load and also knowing enough to be able to assess the process and results. That is simply good stewardship.

It also means that if a person thinks that there is a great need for a ministry or activity at the parish, it is not simply a matter of suggesting and waiting for someone to make it happen, but offer to be the person to make it happen. (And of course support the parish so that it has the resources to do it.)

It also means praying for and promoting vocations. There are a number of empty suites here at Saint Sebastian and I would love to fill them with priests eager to take on the duties expected of the modern parish and to eventually take care of me in my dotage.

HONEY, I'M HOME!

“Good morning and welcome to Saint Soandso parish.”

I have always been bothered by this sentence uttered at many parishes at the beginning of the Sunday Mass. I suppose to many it seems polite but there is something about it that does not seem to ring quite true. Admittedly I get a little nitpicky at times but hope you do not mind the occasional odd rant. So here we go.

(Rant Part I)

The first question to ponder is exactly who is welcoming whom. Supposedly the majority of people being welcomed ARE the parish. (We welcome us here.) It comes across to me like a spouse being greeted at the door not with, “Welcome home!” but with the distinctly different, “Welcome to MY home!” One would think that the spouse might think, “On the one hand I was welcomed but is this not my home too? I’m sure that is what was intended but it doth seem odd.”

Perhaps in most ordinary circumstances this would not be too much of a gaff, but so many places have the difficulty of “parish” being seen as something one joins and from which they expect service. That is not the Catholic mindset. As has been stated here repeatedly (apologies if you are becoming tired of hearing of it) we do not join a parish, we become part of the parish. It is not an institution designed to provide services, but designed to give us all a framework through which we praise God and do our ministry.

(Rant Part II)

The second problem is that there are no Catholic strangers at any Mass. Ever. Anywhere. They are home. They are home whether they are at Mass in China, Zimbabwe, England, or Akron. (Notice Akron has been elevated.) No Catholic is a guest. That is why questions arise concerning the “Stand Up and Be Recognized” rite also practiced. Sure, there may be a member who came a long distance to be at Mass with us and I suppose there can be made the case that we are simply recognizing a “family member” that we normally do not have the opportunity to see. (I know however if I were in a Church and they were calling out for visitors I would be sinking under the pew hoping not to be seen.)

If one were to add this rite to the Mass I would be very wary of the wording so that it in no way seems that the persons are outsiders who are joining us today but family we have just not had the chance to see.

It may not seem like a big deal (and perhaps you think it not) but I do stress the importance of careful wording with anything associated with the Mass. For example, there is nothing inherently wrong with referring to the Sacred Species as the Bread and Wine. But in an age when too many Catholics do not understand what the Church teaches about the Eucharist, to solely use that terminology is a detriment. That is the point of this rant. There may be nothing inherently wrong with the above greeting or “rite,” but we should be awfully darn careful that we do not inadvertently teach something that we are not.

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK - LXXVI

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND: “As recently as the 1920s, silence was the ‘context of thought, conversation, and general existence,’ notes Joseph Urgo, author of In the Age of Distraction. Now this space is “colonized,” he writes. A realm of silence is as rare as a virgin forest and, to many of us, as eerie, ‘Inundated by perspectives, by lateral vistas of information that stretch in every direction, we no longer accept the possibility of assembling a complete picture,’ asserts literary critic Sven Birkerts. ‘We are experiencing in our time a loss of depth – a loss, that is, of the very paradigm of depth.’” From Maggie Jackson’s, “Distracted: The Erosion of Attention and the Coming Dark Age”

IN OTHER NEWS:

“Jeepers!” cries Jay, “It’s time for Catholic Carnival 183!”

Saint Sebastian celebrates its 80 anniversary this weekend! If you are in the area come help celebrate at the 11:00 Mass.

The Diocese of Cleveland Enewsletter asks, "Did you know that the National Catholic College Admission Association is a non-profit organization of Catholic colleges and universities committed to promoting the value of Catholic higher education and serving students in the transition to college?"

Wow! Borremeo Seminary, the minor seminary in the Diocese of Cleveland has a new web site and it is pretty sharp. View it here. Thank P for sending it along!

The ever talented and prolific Vincenzo posted this picture on his site with the caption, "Some thought that he went a bit too far, but after only one month on the job, everyone agreed that Father Valencheck had successfully eliminated all traces of the heresy of modernism from the parking lot..."

MONDAY DIARY - CHAPTER 18

Poor Mom. When we got to the house she was so tired she could scarcely stand up. And it was only early afternoon and there was a long night ahead of us. There was time for some recouping but soon we were off to the Domovina Club, a place my grandfather helped begin. When we walked in the party was already in swing and we were greeted with applause. There was a kneeler on an oriental rug in the corner and I spent most of my time greeting guests and giving first blessings.

There was a blessed break when the meal was served. It was a very traditional Slovenian meal and nothing in the world beats club chicken and Slovenian sausage. Apparently there is some insanely guarded secret to how the chicken is prepared. My sister Lori took one of the cooks aside and tried to ascertain the recipe and it was whispered in her ear. Later we tried to pry it out of my sister but her lips held firm. She finally let go with one secret though. But I cannot tell you.

When dinner was over my Uncle Frank Spetich’s band began to play. Late into the evening I snuck out with three friends for a walk around the block. The friends sound like a set for a joke: a Mormon, a Unitarian Universalist minister, and a Catholic who played a role in my going into the seminary in the first place. Away from the noise and commotion we slowly walked around the block in the cool night air and talked. It was a wonderful break.

Coming around the corner where the hall was, the sounds of talking, laughter, and music slowly drifted back in our ears and soon we were engulfed in people once again. They had begun singing hymns in Slovenian in four part harmony in the bar which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, “Like a tenor in a bar, it’s never time to go home.” But home we finally did go though late into the night. Waltzes and Polkas still in our ears, kind faces in our dreams, and I was a priest. It was all too much to grasp. Sometimes it still is.

For those of you so kind to keep reading. I will reveal one of the secrets of the chicken. Apparently one of the old-time cooks, late of our company, would walk in and sprikle a secret concoction contained in a brown paper bag. It seems that secret died with her. The chicken is still fabulous however and one of the secrets that was passed on to my sister was to use "Better Than Bullion." It adds a whole depth of flavor to any meal. Trust me. But it is difficult to find. Good luck.

SYMBOLIC SATURDAY - GREEN (AND RED) WITH ENVY

Seasons also have flowers associated with them. Advent tends to be a time that we do not decorate and so we begin with Christmas. The most obvious flower associated with Christmas is the poinsettia. But believe it or not, this is a relatively new addition to the symbolic vocabulary. It seems so incredibly entrenched that it is hard to imagine the altar not having them in abundance (thanks in large part to commercial growers and promoters.) In fact, it is not listed in older liturgical symbolic dictionaries. So here is evidence of something nice being introduced and the Church baptizing it and assigning symbolic value to it. The flower somewhat resembles a star which makes one think of the Star of Bethlehem. Some assign meaning to the various colors in which this plant comes but I find that risky since there is no universal agreement and the colors vary so greatly. But red is often associated with His humanity or the Blood which He would shed 33 years later. White brings to mind purity. But pink and mixed colors are kind of on their own.

You will find the almond associated with the birth of Christ. It symbolizes divine favor or approval. The symbol comes to us from Numbers 17;1-8, in which Aaron was chosen as high priest by God because his staff burst into bloom. “. . . and behold the rod of Aaron of the house of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds and bloomed blossoms and yielded almonds.” This then became a symbol of the Blessed Virgin. She appears in a Mandorla or Almond aureole, a shape made when two circles intercept each other, usually in depictions of the Assumption. This shows the divine favor bestowed upon her that derives from her being chosen to be the Mother of God hence, the appropriateness of use in art and decoration of using the almond not and branch.

Once again the daisy comes into use. It symbolizes the innocence of the Christ Child and considered more appropriate than the tall stately lily to exemplify his humility.

IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THE FENCE YOU HAVE TO PAINT IT

Once in philosophy class we had a long discussion about the difference between a Christian and an atheist doing a good deed – the same exact deed. What is the difference - or - is there a difference? We all wanted there to be one and came up with some possible answers. But fifteen years later the question seems a bit weak.

It is not enough to consider oneself a Christian and do good deeds. There was a great conversation had in this house the other night with a man on parish council who worried that such groups could easily fall into the “complaint and fix” mode. That is, somebody notices something like the parish fence needing painting. We get together at a meeting, somebody mentions that the fence needs painting, and then we pass a resolution to fix the fence, and then move on to the next complaint or idea.

He said that there has to be more to it than that and he is right. We cannot loose sight of the bigger picture. It eventually comes down to fixing the fence, yes, but it is not about fixing the fence and we need to remind ourselves of that from time to time. We are not here to preserve a church, but to provide a space in which to be Church. We paint the fence because we believe in Jesus Christ and His presence in the Eucharist and that we are called as His Body to worship Him and serve each other as Church; as brothers and sisters in Christ. And part of being able to do that is preserving our property which means the fence needs to be painted!

It is a subtle difference but essential. It poses the question of why we are here in the first place and aids us in building the community to which Christ calls us.

Every group with which I have met so far in my short time at my current parish I have emphasized that the first priority is the Eucharist; what we do as a community around His altar on Sunday. Everything else is important, but only so if it flows from what we do at the Mass. Basketball teams and sewing circles are great, but ultimately meaningless unless it flows from the source and summit of our lives. We are not here to sponsor teams or clubs or paint fences; we are here to worship Him.

It all must flow from this simple concept and then, at the end of the week, be offered back to Him otherwise our mission becomes to paint fences.

THE FOURTH ADAM'S ALE GET TOGETHER

The fourth Adam's Ale get together took place last weekend. It was a time of prayer, art, friendship, deep discussion, and bit of goofiness. This was supposed to take place whilst I was a parochial vicar at Saint Clare in Cleveland with time on my hands, not while being a new administrator in Akron with a tight schedule! But I think it all went rather well none-the-less.

The first day was a visit to Our Lady of Lourdes Shrine in Euclid. It is run by the Trinitarian Sisters who Lillian Marie plans to be joining in a few short months! We had a tag team tour of the shrine by the sisters pictured here and we ended the visit by praying Liturgy of the Hours and the rosary in the shrine chapel.

That night Lillian Marie and her family hosted a cook out at their house. After a fine repast and some terrible joke telling a vote was taken and we decided to watch the Princes Bride, introducing the movie to Uncle Jim for the very first time. Inconceivable!

The next day, the reason for the get together, we met at the Western Reserve for the Vatican exhibit. If you do not have plans to go, please reconsider. It was well presented. They handled the crowd well and we did not feel rushed or overwhelmed by the number of people. The art itself was exceptional on many levels. This is our patrimony, our history, symbols of our faith. One cannot help but be moved by the art. That was the purpose for it being commissioned in the first place; to engage the not just the intellect but the senses and the emotions as well. That is what it means to be Catholic, to engage the whole person on every level. It becomes evident why purchasing catalogue art for the parish is such a shame and sells us so short (though I know, I know, it is sometimes necessary. But I do not have to like it.) It should also be a reminder that we are, as Church, patrons of the arts as well as caretakers. Thank goodness nobody saw these things as products of a by-gone era in the Church and sent them to the Goodwill. The gravitas of the items also helps instill in us the importance of the otherworldly realities with which we are dealing and how of ultimate worth those other worldly things are since we spend so much care with the earthly things we use to point toward them.

Ah well, enough of that.

Mass back down in Akron was next followed by dinner in my new rectory. Fr. Schnipple celebrated mass the next day at 11:00 (Sunday) and then off the local art fair. Dinner was planned but some how we ended up being satisfied with the delicious brownies that L. M. made. Boccie on the lawn was played and then a climb up to the top of the bell tower. Fr. Schnipple and I were the only ones to make it up. What a beautiful sight it was! We could see for miles and the trees being so large in this part of Akron made it seem almost as if we were in the middle of a woods.

We were just about to start down when who should appear but ADORO who braved her phobias and climbed up also! Of course the problem was getter her back down. But with a little coaching from Fr. S, all went well.

C. brought a game (Catchword I believe it was called) and we spent the last of our time together laughing around the table.

Thank you everyone for helping out or turning up for the day!

TUESDAY QUOTE OF THE WEEK LXXV

FINDING TRUTH WHEREVER IT MAY BE FOUND: "Make no small plans. They have not the fire to stir men's blood." Daniel Burnam

IN OTHER NEWS:

Like the sun bursting forth with the sun, Catholic Carnival 182 shines forth.

The Diocese of Cleveland Enewsletter says THE FEST is just around the corner. Here is their web site.

My sister sent this game in. WARNING: ADDICTION LEVEL: MODERATE

Fr. Schnipple visited Saint Sebastian this weekend (more on that on Wednesday I think) and celebrated the 11:00 mass. Somebody drove this great car to Mass that morning and I just had to have my picture taken with it.

MONDAY DIARY - CHAPTER 17

One by one we were called forth to kneel before the bishop and he laid hands on our heads. When we rose from that we walked around to the front of the sanctuary and knelt on the marble steps. The purpose of this was so that the priests of the diocese could file past us each laying hands on us in blessing. It was a long time to kneel on hard marble and a few of us secretly wore knee pads so that we would be able to walk after.

Some of the priests touched us so lightly that we barely felt it. Others clasped on vices perhaps in order to make the blessing soak in more deeply. I had lived with Fr. C. for a short spell and unfortunately he was deep into dementia, but he was more than aware with what was happening this day and he wanted to jump the line to come up to me and lay on hands. He could not remember my name or what day it was or even if he had eaten already, but something within him recognized me and knew that this was ordination. His escort had to gently guide him in the line and he came up, shook my hand, laid on hands, shook my hand again and continued down the line then.

Fr. Hilkert, a great man of whom I have spoken at length over the life of this blog, was not too much further down the line. It was with him that I was to spend my next assignment. He was already near eighty and had acquired that certain mystique that older pastors have. We had only met about a week before now we were to spend the next five years living and working together (but as it turned out, actually seven wonderful years.) He laid on hands, said in his gruff voice, “Looking forward to seeing you at Satin Ambrose,” and then, in the style of preconcicular confirmation, slapped me on the cheek. In that vast church the noise echoed and I heard gasps and giggles from the pews behind me.

Bishop Pilla then anointed our hands with Sacred Chrism and we slipped into the sacristy. A lady from my internship parish had made me a manaturge (sp?) with which to wipe my hands. It was a fine linen purificator with “My son’s ordination, The Rev. John A. Valencheck” along with the date. I presented this to my mother later privately and later when she died it was placed with her in the coffin.

Well, this was back when I still had hair from all the priests laying on hands I looked a bit like Phyllis Diller which is why I do not mind so much not having hair now. But it was all brought back under control and we headed back out to concelebrate Mass with the bishop for the very first time and join him in the final blessing.

After we met in the bishop’s parlor and he greeted us again, handed us our faculties and had his picture taken with us. We were then shooed out into the cathedral to greet the diocese and offer first blessings. That went on so long that I began to lose my voice.

My oldest nephew stuck around and helped me pack up all of my gear and took the hour ride home with me to my parent’s house. This was another fond memory as we talked about many deep subjects on that ride.

At home everyone was wiped out but there was more to do. There was to be a reception that night at Slovene Center. So we busied ourselves getting ready and then tried to steal a catnap as we were all running on fumes at this point.

TO BE CONTINUED.

SYMBOLIC SATURDAY - ROOTED IN CHRIST

Many flowers and other plants are suitable for ordination in art and arrangements. Symbols of purity and chastity are of particular appropriateness. Among these would be the lily, the laurel, and oddly enough the chestnut and the orange tree.

According to this sadly unnamable book (mentioned last week) are also the following suggestions. “The hyacinth signifies Christian prudence, peace of mind and a longing for heaven.” It actually comes to us through Greek mythology. While throwing a discus Apollo accidentally killed the beautiful youth Hyacinthus. Apollo then caused the hyacinth to spring up from his blood. The cause of new life from the death of the youth can symbolically remind us of our hope and our longing for heaven and new life after this life here on earth.

The fir tree has a lot of meanings. It of course represents Christ at Christmas and eternal life because of its ever green leaves, but it can also mean the “rejection of the low and base desires” characteristic of the elect of heaven who excel in the virtue of patience. In some Easter European traditions they sometimes take two tall firs or pines and chop off all but the upper branches, place them at the entrance of the event (in this case the doors of the church) with a banner between them such as “Welcome to out newly ordained priest”. I do not know if that has any connection or any meaning or if it is just fancy decoration. If you know anything your insight would be appreciated.

The fern, a symbol of humility, frankness, and sincerity is also appropriate. Its grace and beauty is hidden in the shadows of the woods and is only seen by the careful and honest seeker. Throughout Scripture the elm tree is a symbol of power and strength and the dignity of life. (Odd since the road that goes behind St. Sebastian is Elmsdale and currently only has one elm tree on it due to the elm blight that has swept our country.) Its mighty arms that stretch out in every direction gives us the idea of the strength we receive from the Scriptures.

I love this one: The plantain, though only a weed, is the symbol of the well worn path and traveled path of pilgrims seeking the Lord. It thrives along byways and paths and is also knows as “way bread”. It is often seen in Renaissance paintings.

TO BE CONTINUED

IN OTHER NEWS:

Fr. Schnipple, Adoro, Uncle Jim, LM, and a host of other initials, monikers, and guest bloggers are in town for the Adam’s Ale visit to the Vatican Splendors! Originally thought the third A.A. get together is actually the fourth we realized. I will have mass at St. Sebastian on Saturday at 4:30 and Fr. Schnipple will have Mass on Sunday at 11:00. Today we will be at the Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes for a visit around 12:30.

DETAIL IN BLACK AND WHITE

I've always loved detail in buildings. After taking in the over all lines of a structure, I like to focus in on particular aspects. We do that with people's faces too I suppose. We have our first impressions of their face and then get to know the dimple or the beauty mark and learn to love the face even more. Same with buildings. That is one thing that I do not like about much of modern architecture. (This is just a personal preference thing.) After taking in the grand lines of buildings there is very little in the way of intricate detail to capture the imagination. Rooms and windows are exactly the same from top to bottom and there is no wondering, "Oh! I bet that is a cool room. I'd love to get in there one day." There is often nothing that took an artisan time to create. No detailed design that sweeps you into its depth while you sit and think.

Saint Sebastian Church has a lot of that detail. As I take my constitutional around the grounds there are numerous aspects to catch my eye. Take this lamp. How many light fixtures have you enjoyed looking at lately? Yet this one always makes me smile. Windows and doors are more than functional. This door to the school lets you know that what is happening behind these doors is very important and worthy of the community's time and resources in construction and maintenance.
There are also well placed shrines here and there giving the grounds a park like feel as well as giving momentary reminders of prayer. It draws the neighborhood in to sit, play, or just walk through.
Details from the front doors of the old church.
Statue of Saint Sebastian in front of the old church.