June 22nd, A Note from Fr. Scott

          The other day, I received an unexpected e-mail from a couple (M & L) at whose wedding I officiated quite a few years ago.  They were living down south but were coming north for a family wedding and wondered if I was presiding at the 10:30 Mass at St. Casimir’s.  If so, they might like to come to Mass on their way back down south.  I told them I was presiding and I would love to see them and meet their children if they were able to stop.

          The e-mail brought back to mind the circumstances of how I met them—it was at their wedding rehearsal.  I was covering that weekend for another priest, which meant I actually inherited two weddings on Saturday (M & L and J & K) as well as two wedding rehearsals the night before.  I had never met these couples prior to the rehearsal, so I was missing the rapport I usually developed with a couple by working with them through the preparation period.  

          The first rehearsal was with J & K.  It was one of the more trying rehearsals in my 30 years of doing weddings.  The bride was what we today call a “Bridezilla”—everything had to be her way.  No suggestion I made—regardless of explanation—was taken seriously.  In the end, I tried to accommodate her vision, but it turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable wedding rehearsals (and weddings, actually) I’ve ever done.

          So after that ordeal, in came M & L.  I wasn’t sure what to expect but thought “Maybe all the weddings here are like J & K”, so I braced myself.  It turned out that M & L were probably the most accommodating couple I’ve ever dealt with regarding a wedding.  They were friendly, delightful, and easy-going.  The two wedding/rehearsal experiences were like night and day.  (I’m glad I had the J & K wedding first because then I could relax and really enjoy M & L!)

          In truth, J & K may be a very fine couple, despite my uncomfortable experience with them.  Weddings are, after all, emotional affairs and people do want a wedding to be “perfect”—whatever that may mean to them.  (In other words, I don’t want to pass eternal judgment on someone because of a wedding experience.)  I do, however, sometimes wonder if a couple places more emphasis on the wedding than on the marriage.  (The latter lasts far longer than the former.)  Maybe that’s why I enjoyed M & L so much—their focus wasn’t on the details of the wedding; that was just the beginning of their married life together. 

By the way, they did come to Mass that Sunday and we talked briefly after Mass.  They asked for a blessing upon the family and headed back down south, but not before they reminded me of something I said at the wedding (that they actually remembered!): their union wasn’t just between the two of them, but a “Trinity” of sorts—the two of them and God.  They passed that idea on at the family wedding they had just attended.

           I must say that God is a God of unexpected surprises.  The encounter with M & L was very brief, and yet very encouraging: for me it was a God moment as I see the faith of this couple lived out and passed on to their children.  In some small way they were part of my life and I a part of theirs.  What a privilege it is to be part of those moments!  Maybe that’s what I like best about being a priest.  Wherever I have served I have had the wonderful privilege of sharing God moments with a number of different people.  God is amazing!  In spite of my shortcomings, God still fills life with privileged moments. 

          I tend to think that happens to all of us, although often we may not even notice it.  With God we must expect the unexpected (I think that’s the catch-phrase for the television show “Big Brother”, but that’s not to what I am referring); God loves to give us God moments.  We just have to notice them.  Such moments inspire awe and amazement and maybe a little glimpse of what heaven is like!

          Have a blessed week . . . filled with God moments!

June 15th, A note from Fr. Scott

          Every so often, I go out to a restaurant for lunch or dinner, not an uncommon occurrence in our culture.  I notice that many restaurants have an extensive menu, offering a variety of choices in meats, seafood, pasta, salads, soups, appetizers, and, of course, desserts (not to mention the “specials” of the day—I often wonder why there are “specials” since the menu is already overstocked with possibilities; maybe there’s something they want to use up?). 

          I am not the most decisional person.  When the wait staff comes to take the order, I almost always state “I’ll go last” because I haven’t yet made up my mind.  When they finally come to me, oftentimes I still haven’t made up my mind, but I can’t make everyone else wait, so I blurt out my order and after the wait staff leaves I think “Why did I order that?  This other dish sounds better!”  What’s done is done, however.

          In truth, many things sound good and there-in lies my problem.  Too many possibilities become information overload for my brain and I find it hard to make any choice at all.  While I know eating healthy is a good choice, the temptation to eat otherwise sometimes gets the best of me.

          I think we live in a culture of too many choices.  I don’t remember so many options when I was younger.  And that extends beyond restaurant menus.  Think of all the entertainment options we now have that we didn’t have before: hundreds of available channels for our TV pleasure; our computers give us games and movies and original programming; our phones are smarter than we are—they’ve made us dependent upon them (and perhaps addicted to them).  When I was growing up, there were 3 basic sports: baseball, football, basketball (others existed, just not popularly so).  We now have all kinds of athletic endeavors (thank you, X-games) from which to choose, whether we actively engage or passively watch (although not all parents are passive as they watch their kids play sports). 

          Unfortunately, what seems to have happened is that God and Church and religion have become just another choice to occupy our time.  And if there’s a conflict, what happens?  Some choose faith practices but many do not.  The conflict is an opportunity to teach our young people that there are priorities in life; what lesson do we want to impart?

And, of course, for those who crave constant entertainment, God doesn’t exactly entertain us like many of the other choices available to us.  (I’m not saying that the goal of going to Church should be entertainment, although I think the Church experience can be enjoyable.)    

          Those of us who are older remember simpler, less complicated, fewer-choices times.  I don’t think we missed anything—we had fewer distractions to tempt us away from God.  That’s not a bad thing.  However, we can’t change the culture surrounding us—we can’t go back to simpler times.  We live in an environment of numerous choices and we have to deal with that.  Unfortunately, while our possible choices have multiplied in recent years, neither our time nor our energy has.   We can’t do everything we may want to do. 

          But we still can make choices that deepen our faith and our relationship with God.  Maybe it means saying “No” to something else tempting us, but in the end we’ll have made the better choice.

          Have a blessed week . . .

June 8th, A note from Fr. Scott

        The light turned green and I was ready to make a left-hand turn.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and a young girl pedaled past the front of my car on what I assume was a small tricycle.  She wasn’t alone—she had two companions with her, but they had noticed that the light had changed and waited on the corner for me to go.

        Now the one on the tricycle actually looked to be the oldest of the three; she didn’t exactly fit on the tricycle comfortably—in fact it was hard to see the tricycle at all; I mostly saw her knees pedaling as fast as they could.  (It reminded me of the circus clowns who ride on tiny bicycles, even though I’m not much of a circus person!) 

        All I could think was, “I’m glad I didn’t hit her, but she should have known better than to cross the street without looking at the light!”

        I have to admit that I sometimes “think” the word “should”, but I try to avoid saying that word out loud.  I do have a reason: when a person uses the word “should”, he or she is suggesting superiority to the other person: “you should do this”; “you should say that”; “you should have known better”!  What we’re really saying is, “I clearly know the best way to act, better than you do!”  It tends to involve a superior attitude.

        Of course, there are times when one person does know better and it’s their job to help teach another, in which case it doesn’t have to be a superior attitude.  That includes parent and child, mentor and apprentice, teacher and student, lawyer and client, doctor and patient, etc.  However, there is a tendency on the part of many of us to bring that superior attitude into other areas of life.  Don’t we at times think we know more than politicians or coaches or friends or neighbors or our spouse? 

        This weekend we celebrate the end of the Lent-Easter-Pentecost season with the Solemnity of Pentecost.  At Pentecost, the promise made by Jesus came true: the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the disciples.  They began to understand more clearly the way of Jesus the Christ and fearlessly proclaimed the Kingdom of God.

        Did they know better than others?  Yes, because of their experience.  And they shared what they knew, but not with a superior attitude.  Maybe they used the word “should”, but it wasn’t borne of superiority: they knew that their understanding and their courage came from the Lord, not from within themselves.

        The fruit of the Holy Spirit is never an attitude of superiority; that comes from our own ego.  The fruit of the Holy Spirit is a healthy humility, which recognizes God’s great love for us all, friend and foe alike.

        May we be always open to the presence of the Holy Spirit.

        Have a blessed . . . and humble . . . week!   

The Storehouse Holds Both the New and the Old

             In the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel, we read the words, “Blessed is the steward who brings out the new as well as the old from his storehouse.” (Mt. 13:52)  I’m sure those words would ring true for anyone going through an attic – old picture frames, lamps, pieces of luggage, books, and old piece of furniture and countless other treasures.  That is not only true of anyone’s attic at home, but it is also true of our church attic as well.

          Among some of the treasures in this attic were several sets of very old vestments, some of them dating back to the 1940’s.  Recently, a very beautiful set of gold vestments was discovered on the rack with many others.

          This particular set of vestments was purchased by Father Thomas J. Toole in 1948 when he was pastor of St. Mary’s Parish.  That was at the time the church underwent a complete renovation of the interior of the church.  Maybe some of our older parishioners will recall that time and the very beautiful work that was done in the church.  One of the highlights of this renovation was the very intricate and beautiful scroll work that was painted by hand on the ceiling.  I remember those days, as I was a student at St. Mary’s School during that renovation.  We would go over to the church during our lunch hour, lie down on the pews, and watch the artists way up on rafters painting this very beautiful artwork.

          Well, back to the story of the vestments, Father Toole had purchased them for the parish and they were first used for the dedication of that 1948 renovation.  They were worn for major holy days after that such as Christmas and Easter.  My personal connection with these beautiful vestments came when I wore them for my first Mass which I celebrated on Pentecost Sunday, June 6, 1965.

          After that occasion, I’m not sure how often the vestments were worn for the Liturgy at St. Mary’s, but at some time along the way, they were relegated to the attic.  Maybe it was because they were so ornate in their decoration or so heavy; the brocade of the material was very heavy.

          No those vestments have surfaced for another era in the life of St. Mary’s.  This year on June 8^th, Pentecost Sunday, they will be worn again as our newest deacon, Matt Jones, will use them as he assists at the altar as a deacon for the first time.

          God willing, I will be able to wear them for a second time, when I celebrate my fiftieth anniversary of Ordination next June in 2015.  I am looking forward to that day, as it will be a day of great joy for me to be able to celebrate the Liturgy in the same church where I celebrated my first Mass, and wearing the same vestments I wore fifty years earlier.

          This time it will be a much older me bringing out of the storeroom something very old, but it will make me feel very young at heart.

Fr. Walt    

A message from Matthew Jones

          One of my most vivid childhood memories is the singing of the Litany of the Saints at the Easter Vigil Mass. It must have been 25 years ago at St. Mary’s. I was 10 years old, and to this day I cannot explain why, out of all of the parts of this special Mass, my recollection of this event is so strong.This memory comes to mind every time I heard the Litany of the Saints, which is always proclaimed at an ordination ceremony.

           In less than two weeks I will receive the grace of Holy Orders as I am ordained a deacon. As this very important moment in my life approaches, I have an image in my mind of what the ceremony will look like. There will be a long procession of ministers and clergy, readings and music that highlight the biblical links to the diaconate, all unfolding in the presence of my family, friends, deacons, priests and bishops who will have gathered to bring their own witness to this event.

          After the homily, the bishop asks each candidate (referred to as ordinandi) if we will commit to a series of promises necessary for this vocation to flourish. We publicly give our assent by responding “I do” after each one. Then, we lay prostrate on the ground, just as the priests do at the beginning of the ceremony on Good Friday. This symbolizes the laying down of one’s life in service to the Lord and others. The choir leads and the congregation responds in the singing of the Litany of the Saints. The bishop will lay his hands on each of the ordinandi, hand us the book of the gospels, and we are invested with a stole and dalmatic. And so begins my life as an ordained deacon.

          Yet, my imagination reverts to the singing of the litany and the laying on the ground. I have no idea what will be going on in my mind and heart at that time. I believe that I will be thinking of that moment when I was a young boy, never dreaming that this was possible. Then I realize that I can’t lay on the ground or listen to the singing forever. I will have to get up…and step up to the call of service…and begin the work that the Church has asked of me.

          I am sure many of you are wondering why I have taken up this path. First of all, you must choose this path after knowing God has chosen you for it. I can only hope and pray that every day will resemble the experience of the apostle Philip, whom we encountered in the first reading. As the days to holy orders shorten, I try to imagine myself being like him, hopeful that each action will be worthy of the call, that each gesture will help others know Jesus more fully in their lives and, as the gospel tells us, show the world the Spirit of Truth, a truth that the world cannot accept. This is where true joy lies, showing people their worthiness to follow in the steps of Jesus and live a life of holiness that every person has been called to.

          The excitement I share comes from knowing that my life in ministry will never be the same from day-to-day, and will be given new meaning because of experiences, encounters and prayer. I cannot begin to describe the variety of emotions and thoughts that I have been through in the past month. When I am laying on the ground of Sacred Heart Cathedral in a few days, sounds from my childhood will meet with the beginning of ordained ministry. I ask you to pray for me during that morning, and hope to see you at the ordination ceremony or the Mass of Thanksgiving the next day at St. Mary’s.

God bless,

Matthew Jones

The Gift of a Mother's Love

The Gift of a Mother’s Love...        On the Memorial holiday weekend of 2005, a mother’s love saved my life.  That Mother was the Blessed Virgin Mary.  As a child growing up in a Catholic family, I was taught a specific set of beliefs about God and about how I should behave and pray to God.  As a child those beliefs stayed with me.  However, as I grew into a teenager and young adult, I questioned those beliefs as many young people do.  I went on living my life with the relative ideas I gained from the secular world around me.  Those ideas began to take shape in my heart, head and soul, leading me into new directions that were not always positive directions for my life.               In 2005, I found myself waking up in the hospital from a grand –mal seizure that had nearly taken my life.  Waking up in the ICU sometime later that day, two neurology doctors came in to speak to me.  I had been looking for the scapular that was always around my neck, but it was gone. One of the doctors knew from the nurse, that I had been looking for the scapular, so when he came in to see me, he took the scapular out of his pocket and handed it to me saying; “is this what you are looking for?” and I said “Yes.”  The doctor went on to tell me how severe the injury to my head was from the seizures. He let me know that I had a blood clot at the base of my brain, which should or could have burst, creating a massive fatal brain hemorrhage. He then stated that he believed that the lady on the cloth may have saved my life. I already knew that she had saved my life. I had begun wearing Mary’s garment of faith a few years earlier, when my life was in another kind of peril. The doctor went on to tell me that he was a Catholic too, but he had not been practicing his faith for quite some time. After seeing me that weekend, he told me that he had to take a new look at his faith tradition. Placing the scapular around my neck again that day, I could feel the warmth and sensation of my Mother’s love.
        While I love and cherish my earthly mother, it is my Heavenly Mother who has always been with me, throughout all of the struggles of my life. While I was given a specific set of beliefs from my parents, it has occurred to me many times over, that as we get older we must take ownership of those beliefs and turn them into the moral and spiritual faith that guides our lives. It is that faith in wearing my mother’s warm garment that guides my way each day.        I love the many images that we have of Mary holding her infant Son or following her adult Son on his path to Calvary. The look in her eyes and the love in her heart for her Son, are the same messages of love that she has shared with me. For nearly a year, I carried a small picture of the ‘Madonna of the Streets’ in the pocket of my old yellow fleece jacket. It was a picture that I was given by a priest that ministered to people on the streets. The image of the Madonna carrying her infant Son Jesus on the streets has the same deep facial image of love and care, which she had for him at the foot of the cross. In 2003, as I walked the streets of Pioneer Courthouse Square, Park Place Avenue, NW 23^rd Street and Lovejoy Street; I spent a lot of time looking at her picture knowing that she had the same love for me too. The priest and the picture are gone now, but the image of my heavenly Mother’s love remains in my heart and mind every day. While some of us are blessed to presently have or had in the past an earthly mother who loved and cared for us, the Blessed Virgin Mary is also our mother, our heavenly mother, the mother of our church and the mother of our lives, as long as we do not forget to include her in our lives.

 Lorraine Gardner – Servant of God