Fr. Peter Daly - Parish Diary

Expectations

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Thu, 14 Dec 2000 02:41:00 +0000

Looking around the room at all the gray heads, hunched shoulders, and halting walks, I said to the young priest across the table from me, “E.J., whatever motivated you to join this geriatric society.”

His response, of course, was, “God.”

E. J. is a faith filled man and one of our finest young priests. He is made all the more valuable because he is so rare.

“Topic A” at most priest gatherings these days is the declining number of priests and the increasing age of those who remain. When this is coupled with a continually increasing number of Catholics who have rather high expectations of their clergy, the future looks problematic.

Not all the news is bad. Admissions to seminaries have stabilized and even increased slightly, though they are still only a third of what they were 35 years ago. Resignations from the priesthood have slowed. The National Catholic Register reports that ex-priests are coming back to the ministry at the rate of about 300 per year. The crowded seminaries of the third world are beginning to send priests to our shores. The Josephites, who work primarily in African American parishes, now bring seminarians from Africa.

There is new effort to recruit young men to priesthood. “Project Andrew” dinners and “Come and See” retreats are efforts to ask more directly. These efforts do have at least a short-term benefit. In our parish, for instance, I invited 21 young men to come to a dinner to discuss a priestly vocation. Four said yes. That was the most of any parish in the diocese.

Despite the occasional bright spots, however, the data shows that the number of priests is declining. Even with immigration of foreign priests, returning former priests, and slowing resignations, deaths and retirements are outpacing any gains.

According to the Nov. 4, 2000, issue of America magazine, the number of active diocesan priests has declined by 346 per year for the last five years, just a little less than one per day. In nearly every diocese in America, the number of deaths and resignations each year exceeds the number of ordinations.

The total number of diocesan priests, active and retired, is shrinking. It has declined from 32,992 in 1990 to 30,034 in 1999. By the year 2005, it is forecast to be 27,940. All of this while our Catholic population grows at a rate of over one million people per year. By the year 2005 there will be fewer priests than there are parishes nationwide.

Most priests can’t retire until age 70, but even with that late date the number retiring is increasing every year. In my own diocese, by my count, 21 of the 319 priests listed in our year 2000 directory are age 80 or older. Seventy of the 319 are retired.

At the beginning of this new millennium of Christian life, the continuance of the Eucharistic celebration is a real concern. What will happen 20 years from now if things do not change?

Whenever I have a conversation with young men about the possibility of priesthood I hear the same remark. “Father, I would think about it except for the requirement of celibacy.” Over the years I have been a defender of celibacy as a spiritually valuable discipline and an important witness. But the Eucharist and preaching the gospel are more valuable.

Perhaps we should make an effort in prayer and recruiting into the celibate priesthood for another five years. If things do not turn around by 2005, it could be that the Holy Spirit is telling us something.

Maybe then we should consider adopting the model of our sister churches of the East and allow married men to be ordained to serve as parish priests.

I love the priesthood and the Eucharist. I want to see both continue to grace the world into the next millennium.

Elections and Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 01 Dec 2000 02:41:00 +0000

A couple days after election day Charlene Sparrow called from the Board of Elections. Charlene is a parishioner and our local voter registrar. She is also one of our local election officials in Calvert County, Maryland.

She just wanted to let me know that I had received two write-in votes for President of the United States. “That’s pretty good,” she said, “when you consider that Hillary Clinton only got one vote in our County.”

Even though I hadn’t been running for anything, a wave of political ambition swept over me.

“Perhaps,” I thought, “there were more votes out there? Perhaps there was a groundswell movement in the Catholic community.”

“Charlene,” I said, “I want a hand recount. But I’ll be reasonable about it. I only demand a recount in the precincts that have heavy concentrations of my parishioners.”

Using statistical projections from those precincts, I could prove that I actually carried Maryland and then maybe control our ten electoral votes. Then I could swing the election one way or the other. I could be a king-maker.

It is amazing how intoxicating dreams of political power can be. Ambition quickly takes you over. In this era of “stranger than fiction” political events, my scheme didn’t seem all that unreasonable.

Ps 146 says, “Put not your trust in princes, in mortal men, in whom there is no help. You take their breath and they return to clay, and their plans that day come to nothing.”

As this political season draws to a close and the Christmas season is upon us, the admonition of the psalm 146 is a good thing to remember.

Our trust and hope is not in the princes of this world, but in the Prince of Peace.

One of the good things about our liturgical years is that it is a circle. It brings us back each year to certain eternal truths. Things we need to be reminded of again and again.

Christmas reminds us that the kingdoms and the politicians and the powers of this world pass away, but the incarnate and living word of God endures.

For all of its influence and might, the Roman Empire, which had ordered a “hand recount” of the whole world in Jesus’ time, has passed away. For all of his fearful cruelty, Herod, the terror of Israel at the time of Jesus, died in shame and his grave is forgotten. The cruelty and power of Caesar Augustus, King Herod and their successors eventually gave way to other political powers.

If there had been media pundits around 2000 years ago, none of them would have called things the way they turned out.

Nobody would have said that the really significant event of that year was not the crowning of kings and emperors or the appointment of governors, but the birth of a child.

Nobody, except three foreign wise men and some shepherds, would have thought that they should set up a media encampment at a cave outside of Bethlehem. It was, after all a “no account” precinct in a “no account” province of the empire.

But it was in the stable at Bethlehem and not in the palaces of Jerusalem or Rome that the real history-making event was happening.

A child was born to us. A son was given to us. On his shoulders, dominion and power rest. His name shall be called wonderful, counselor, … prince of peace.

It is from his birth that the whole world recons its time. His birth has become the hinge of history. A baby so poor it was born among the animals.

With that in mind, I don’t think I’ll ask Charlene for a recount. What would it really matter even if my scheme could come true.

The real political action is not 50 miles up the road from our little town in Washington. It is right here, in our homes and hearts. The election that really matters is who we welcome this Christmas to be king of our hearts.

Sabbath

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Thu, 02 Nov 2000 02:43:00 +0000

As a pastor, I think the most frequently violated of the Ten Commandments is Sabbath rest.

Certainly, I am just as guilt of this as any of my parishioners.

I’m not talking so much about not shopping on Sunday. I generally don’t do that and I think the people who do shop on Sunday generally do so out of necessity. They just don’t have time to get to the store on other days.

What I am more worried about, is the fact that in our 24/7, work oriented society, people don’t do what scriptures tell us we need to do. They don’t rest.

Genesis depict even almighty God needing a day of rest after his labor of creation. So what makes us think that we were so special? Why don’t we need time for “recreation”, that is “being made anew.”

There is something in us that needs to rest every seven days. The world over people follow a seven day calendar. Even in non-Judeo Christian societies. We have a certain rhythm to life and need to rest one day out of seven. For Moslems it is Friday. For Jews and some Christians, like seventh day Adventists, it is Saturday. For nearly two billion Christians, it is supposed to be Sunday.

At the beginning of the 19^th century, Napoleon tried briefly to go against this natural rhythm of Sabbath rest. Trying to break the power of the Catholic Church in France and elsewhere, he decreed that the French empire would have a 10 day calendar, not seven. If flopped. People wouldn’t or couldn’t do it. There is something about resting on the seventh day that is in the natural and divine law.

But, what Napoleon could not do by decree, we do by custom. Some of us are worse that Napoleon, because we don’t make any time for rest. Even Sabbath Sunday is just a different “to do” list. is busy.

Some how we leave something out of human life. We forget about contemplation. We forget about conversation. We forget about reading and writing. We often overlook the spiritual value of a little afternoon snooze. The clergy are just as guilty as others. The Pharisees might have been a little hard hearted when they resisted Jesus curing on the Sabbath, but they had a point about the Sabbath. There are six days for doing marriage prep and visiting the sick and planning liturgies. At least one should be set aside for holy rest.

Some of our families are so closely scheduled on Sunday they can’t make it to mass, let alone other spiritually renewing things like reading a book, taking a walk, having family dinner, or praying together.

Worse still are the isolating time waters that drain our energy. Things like sitting lives in front of the TV, surfing the internet, or playing endless and pointless video games. After hours of these things, we don’t feel renewed, we feel empty.

The Sabbath is for the things that we can’t do on the other six days. If you sit at a computer screen at work, we shouldn’t fill up our Sunday doing the same. Like Tevia says in “Fiddler on the Roof”, real wealth is to “have the time that I lack to sit by the eastern wall and pray.”

What happens when we ignore the third commandment?

Poverty. Spiritual poverty. Instead of the fruits of the Holy spirit, like joy, peace patience and kindness we get boredom, sloth, tension and temptation.

Just because grocery stores, the internet, and the stock market run 24 hours a day, doesn’t mean we can.

If God had to take a pause in creating the universe, who are we to think our lives are too important to rest.

Flood of Grace

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Wed, 26 Jan 2000 02:42:00 +0000

The devastation has been partly cleaned up, so it isn't immediately obvious. But when you drive down the streets in some towns of eastern North Carolina, you can see red "X"s on dozens of houses, indicating that they are condemned. In one town, Princeville, every building has an "X".

The flooding that followed Hurricane Floyd last fall was the worst disaster in North Carolina history. Thousand of homes were totally destroyed and many thousands more seriously damaged.

Our parish social concerns committee organized a flood relief trip from Maryland to North Carolina over the Martin Luther King holiday weekend. With the assistance of Catholic Charities in the Diocese of Raleigh we were put in contact with folks in Windsor, a town that was flooded not once, but twice.

As so often happens with volunteer efforts, we got back much more than we gave.

There were 25 in our group, about evenly divided between men and women, with one child.

We brought our tool kits, pick up trucks and blister cream. Not very skilled workers, we discovered that what was needed was willingness. In North Carolina There were volunteers from every denomination, but we were proud that Catholic churches were a big part of the mix. we met people from other churches.

We worked on four houses. Tearing up soaked sub-flooring. Putting joint compound on dry wall. Laying new flooring. Hanging insulation.

The owners of the homes came by. They were all elderly people who seemed to count themselves lucky to have saved their lives. None of them were rich. Several of them were quite sick. They were so grateful.

The home owners made us soup. They worked along with us.

It looked like work, but it was actually a form of prayer. There is something spiritual that happens when people go off to do something in the name of Jesus. We are drawn together in some golden cords of grace.

Our days began and ended with prayer in the lobby of the Comfort Inn.

We had mass in the back room of a Chinese restaurant.

We talked, prayed, ate and sang together.

At the end of the weekend, 25 parishioners who hardly knew one another when we pulled out of the parking lot were fast friends when we returned. We had done something together. We had been missionaries for Christ.

Our parish is developing a tradition of these working retreats.

The monks say that prayer come is two forms, word and work, ora et labora.

For years our parish has had a tradition of the ora, type retreat. Lots of talking and thinking.

But we have now discovered the blessings that from labora, working retreats.

There is something for everyone to do. There is a sense of really making a difference in people's lives. We have the satisfaction of leaving something better than we found it. There is also the sense that we are fulfilling the requirement of the Lord to meet the needs of others.

It isn't just the work though. It is the work combined with prayer, combined with time. For this we have to go somewhere.

When we do these projects at home we accomplish important things for our community. (Our parish will be refurbishing two houses for homeless families next month.) But we don't have the bonding that comes which comes from spending time with each other in a strange place.

Disasters are all bad. In North Carolina we got to meet some nice folks and do some useful work. We also got to know each other and the Lord a little better. As

one of our working retreatants said, "Wasn't good of God to let this flood bring all these people together."

World Trade Organization and Catholic Social Teaching

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 24 Dec 1999 02:28:00 +0000

After the riots in Seattle a few weeks ago outside the meeting of the World Trade Organization, the economists and bureaucrats of the world were like a mule that gets hit on the head with a 2X4. Their attention was redirected.

The riots and the property damage were wrong, but there was a valid point to be made, as President Clinton himself pointed out in his speech to the WTO.

The point was this. There is a lot more to be considered in the globalization of the economy than the making of money. The talks between un-elected bureaucrats, corporate moguls and government agencies have to focus on more than just taxes and tariffs, trade barriers and subsidies. They have to focus on people and what the economy does to the lives of people.

This point is nothing new. The church has been making this point for over one hundred years in a great tradition of Catholic social teaching. Unfortunately, hardly anybody, at least in the U.S., has been listening. As Peter Henriot said, "Catholic social teaching is our best kept secret."

Every since Pope Leo XIII wrote an encyclical on the condition of labor and condemned the exploitation of workers and defended their right to organize, the church has done a lot of reflecting on the question of what makes a society and an economy "moral." Pius XI, John XXIII, Paul VI and John Paul II have all written extensively on the "social question." The words of the encyclicals have changed lives and galvanized movements. It is no accident that the workers' movement that liberated Poland was called "Solidarity" a word found frequently in the encyclicals and a particular favorite of John Paul II.

The fact that the two most important negotiators for the United States on these trade issues are both Catholics shows how lamentable it is that our Catholic schools don't teach Catholic social teaching to our students.

The United States' chief trade negotiator, Charlene Barshevsky and our Secretary of Commerce, William Daley, are both products of Catholic schools. Ms. Barshevsky is a 1975 graduate of Catholic University Law School in Washington, DC. Secretary Daley is a 1966 graduate of St. Ignatius High School in Chicago. These are the two most important people in our government in formulating trade policy. Yet seems to have made any of the moral questions about the economy front burner issues.

The lack of the moral dimension in these trade talks, which affect every human being on earth, is sad. The lack of familiarity with the moral teaching of the church on such things as worker rights, slave labor, protection of the environment and the preservation of the family, on the part of Catholic schools graduates is a missed opportunity to change the world. We have something important to say on this point and we have thought it out over the past 100 years.

The current trade negotiations show the importance of teaching our own people in our own schools the great Catholic Social Teaching. We need to do a better job teaching the social issues of the church in the classroom, so that the moral questions will have a place at the negotiating table. There are some things about an economy that cannot be measured in money or units of production.

Schools in Need

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sat, 11 Sep 1999 01:37:00 +0000

The public schools in the county where I live are pretty good. The test scores are going up. The facilities are fairly modern. The teachers are very dedicated. Some stay with the system for many years. Like many growing communities, the schools are overcrowded. But that problem is being addressed gradually with an ambitious building program that opens one new school per year.

At the same time the demand for Catholic schools in our area is also growing. Parents are afraid of drug use and violence. There is a desire for prayer and religious training, especially in the lower grades. We recognize that one hour a week of religious education for 30 weeks of the year does not form our children into mature adult Christians.

This fall more than 60 million children will start school in America. This is the most ever. Each year when our state Catholic conference goes to lobby the legislature, we ask for some form of assistance to private schools. We really need it. Our parents pay the double burden of supporting two school systems.

Given the fact that a presidential election is coming, school funding will be a hot button issue from the court house to the White House. Maybe now is the time to rethink how we frame the issue.

Much of the debate in this coming election year will pit public schools against private. Parents of children in religious schools will be seen as opposed to parents of children in public schools. Those who want vouchers or charter schools will be seen as weakening the public system.

From my standpoint as a pastor in a community where 90% of the Catholic children go to public schools, it seems to me that this is a false division. There is way to frame the discussion that takes care of every child. If some of the fringe groups like the ACLU and the radical religious right will just dial it back a bit, we might even be able to see some common ground.

Perhaps Catholics can lead the way.

For 150 years we have operated an excellent school system, serving millions of people of all faiths, pretty much without government aid. We have a lot of experience and expertise to bring to the discussion.

Catholic schools are no threat to the public system. Indeed, we have common interests. Even if we both had a huge increase in funding we would still have a long way to go to serve all our children well.

A starting point for any Church lobbying on the issue should be that public schools need more resources, not less. Any pressure for vouchers or charter schools should be coupled with a resolution that existing public school systems should be held harmless.

In addition, we have some expertise to offer to public systems. The fact that Catholic schools are known to be very lean in their overhead costs while public systems are administratively top heavy may provide an openning.

Thirdly, maybe we could agree that the First Amendment to the Constitution is as strong in guaranteeing religious expression as it is in preventing the governmental establishment of religion. Other free societies seem to have worked this out. As a universal church the Catholic community could bring it's experience elsewhere in the world to the table. The many Catholic children in public schools would benefit. There could be Catholic Clubs meeting after school. Catholic teachers would find a chance to be moderators and mentors for our kids. The many who may never have another religious class after CCD could deepen their faith as adults.

We all a common interest in good schools. Both Catholic social teaching and American civics lessons stress the common good. The common interest is our kids. That provides a lot of common ground, no matter where we go to school.

The Western Way of the Cross

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 30 Jul 1999 01:38:00 +0000

Go south from Denver, past Pueblo. Then turn right, off I-25, at Walsenburg. At Fort Garland go left and a few miles further on you will arrive at the town of San Luis. It is hardly a town. Really it is nothing more than a crossroads. It has a post office, a general store, a gas station, coffee shop, a handful of houses, and a Catholic church.

But people come from miles around to this little crossroads town to do something they could do anywhere, but may not have done in years. They come to pray the Stations of the Cross.

The setting is so spectacular you can almost hear the voice of God contemplating His creation and saying, "It is very, very good."

On a high hill where the two roads join, the local Knights of Columbus have constructed a steeply sloping "way of the cross". The view from the path looks out across the valley to the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) Mountains. The desert air is clear. The peaks of the mountains are colorful, snow capped even in summer, blue by day and blood red at sunset.

A steep path begins at the roadside and climbs the hill to an isolated and breathtaking spot where there is a little adobe chapel of Todos los Santos (All the Saints). Along the path are nearly life size statues of each of the 14 stations, plus a 15^th one of the Resurrection. These wonderful bronze figures are the work of a local sculptor, Huberto Maestas. You might expect to find a works of this quality in a gallery in New York or Washington, but not on a wind swept hillside in a semi-desert, crossroads town.

But there they are. And the combination of natural beauty and the man made artistic creation has a compelling effect.

People come from all over the U.S. to walk the way of Jesus and to contemplate his sacrifice. At the same time they can contemplate the work and the generosity of the Father in giving us this earth.

My stop there on my vacation did what a vacation should do. It was true "recreation." Making me anew and renewing me in the faith.

I thought it would be just to have a quick look and then back in the car. But at the first station I was intrigued. A curious Pilate, leaned in to take testimony from an agitated high priest, while a resigned Jesus looked on. I was hooked. I reached out to touch Jesus. There were no signs saying stop. Only the sound of the wind. Solitude. Contemplation.

A tourist visit became prayer. I moved on up the mountain, past the fallen Jesus, past Simon of Cyrene, past a kindly Veronica, and past the distraught and hysterical women of Jerusalem. Each station pulled me to the next. Finally at the top, I was up lifted by the resurrection, that great event that leads to the life of the church In this case the resurrection station leads directly to the chapel of all the saints, just as Jesus' actual resurrection led to the community of all the saints in His church.

Of all the Catholic devotions, I think the stations of the cross are my favorite. They literally stand at the cross, the crux, of the faith. The events that mark Jesus as not just another teacher or guru or spiritual leader, but as the divine presence entered into the created order.

When I came down the hill from the stations a family from Georgia was just starting up. I told them it was a great experience.

The father of the family, an evangelical Christian, asked me a little defensively, "Is this a Catholic thing?" "Yes," I said, "it is an experience for everybody."

I got in my car strangely renewed. It was the highlight of my summer vacation. A solitary walk on a hillside. A way of the cross at the crossroads. A combination of human and divine creativity that does what good prayer should always do, lift the heart and mind, body and soul, into the presence of God.

A town that can do that is worth a little detour off the Interstate.

Work Camp

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Thu, 15 Jul 1999 01:39:00 +0000

Every now and then a program comes along that is exactly right for the times. Recently I participated in such a program, the Catholic Heart Work Camp.

For a week, three hundred teens, from 11 states, gathered in Nashville, Tennessee, for hard work, joyful prayer, and happy silliness. I traveled with 23 teens from our parish and nine adult chaperones. It was one of the best weeks I've ever had, period.

Catholic Heart Work Camps gather Catholic teens from across the country. They sleep on the floor of classrooms, pray and play in the gym, and pack lunches for each other in the cafeteria. During the day they fan out across the sponsoring city to do hard work for those in need.

The teens come at their own expense, paying the $250 cost plus transportation, through fund raisers or out of their own pockets.

The fact that it is a "work camp" adds to the bonding that takes place. At the end of the week they can see their accomplishments. Our teens did landscaping work in the 95 degree Tennessee heat. They built a rock wall behind eight new houses for Habitat for Humanity. They cleaned out the yard of a home for the mentally disabled, moved the possessions of a lady who had been burned out of her apartment, sorted food at a food bank, washed dishes, organized clothing, picked up litter, built porches and painted houses.

They had long days. They rose at 6:30 AM. Everything was filled with prayer. They prayed together after breakfast. They had shared prayer on the way to the job site. They prayed after lunch and shared their prayers, usually sitting under a tree at the job site. After they returned to the school, showered, and had supper, they had evening programs, beginning and ending with prayer.

The evening programs were high energy, with the kind of loud, pulsating music everyone loves when they are young. But the words and the message were straight from the gospel. In addition to music, there were skits, hymn singing, mime, contests, witness talks and masses. One evening we had nine priests in to hear confessions. It took several hours. Tears flowed freely as the teens talked abut some of their sins and worries.

When I read the schedule in the brochure, I thought, "Oh, they are going to hate this." But I was wrong. They loved it.

I heard comments like, "I didn't want mass to be over." One boy told me, "This camp changed my life." One boy from our group said, "I was loosing my faith before I came, but I think I got it back at this camp."

The leaders of the Catholic Heart Work Camps have figured out the teenage mind. Everything was done in their idiom of T-shirts, baggy clothes, boy meets girl contests, and dance, dance, dance. We hardly ever sat down. The teens don't mind participating because it is their culture.

For example, one continuing appearance throughout the week was the fight between good and evil symbolized by a counselor dressed like a professional wrestler, big belt and all. The last night they opened with the "Are you ready to rumble?" call that opens professional wrestling. The whole stands were on their feet, cheering for good over evil. One of the counselors, a young woman, came out in a giant summo wrestler's padded suit and took on the evil one. She literally crushed him. The kids were in hysterics. So was I. But the message got across. Good triumphs over evil, grace over sin.

The work camps were started 7 years ago in Orlando, Florida, by a couple, Lisa and Steve Walker. In their first year only 100 young people participated. This year over 3,500 youth in 14 cities will go to Catholic Heart Work Camp. Next year 16 dioceses will sponsor camps. This is a gift from the Holy Spirit. A real change in lives.

We saw the first fruits of the week almost immediately. On the bus coming back from Nashville, traffic on the interstate came to a stop behind an accident. One of our young men came to the front of the bus and suggested we say the rosary. Later, when we were delayed again by a rain storm, the teens started singing hymns they had learned that week.

When the bus arrived back at the church parking lot, our driver refused a tip. He said he was impressed with the faith of the youth he had seen on his bus. He didn't want money, but he did want a Bible. Score one for our teens and the Catholic Heart Work Camp.

For more information on the Catholic Heart Workcamps, or to register for one of next year's camps, call the Catholic Heart headquarters in Orlando, Fla. at 407-678-0073.

New Car

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sat, 03 Jul 1999 01:34:00 +0000

I bought a new car recently. My first truly new car. It had only 24 miles on the odometer when I drove it off the lot. In the 100 yards from showroom to street, it depreciated $2,000.

Until now I had always bought used cars. Very used cars. But at age 48 I felt comfortable enough financially and insecure enough physically to plunk down a small fortune for that "new car smell."

It was a psychological and moral crisis for me.

In car conscious America, whether we like it or not, "you are what you drive." Priests should be free of such worldly attachments, but I have to confess, car buying was an occasion of sin for me. It appeals to all the worst impulses. Instead of being content with basic transportation, I suddenly wanted a car that said, "youth, wealth, and sex." However, I wanted it to say all that at a reasonable price.

I agonized over what statement my purchase was going to make.

Just after ordination I bought a used car. It was a 15 year-old gas-guzzling monster. I called it "la Bestia", Italian for "the beast." You could hear it coming a block away. It had 140,000 miles when I bought it. The best thing I can say about it was that nobody ever tried to steal it. I paid only a $100 for "la Bestia." I was comfortable with the statement it made, which was "solidarity with the poor."

What I really wanted, but could not say so publicly, was that new class vehicle so popular with us aging baby boomers. Not the SUVs you read about but the real statement car the MLC, "Mid-Life Crisis" car.

Consumer's Digest has not yet officially defined this class of vehicle, but generally it is any car only two doors and little or no back seat. It should be fast, getting from 0 to 60 in about the same time a 50 year old man can get from the bed to the bathroom at night. Convertibles are the ideal MLCs. Cars with moon roofs will qualify if they have that gold lettering and a spoiler on trunk. (Spoilers will be standard items on all MLCs next year.) Color is optional, but red or bright yellow are the preferred tones.

When I went car shopping the dealer sized me up pretty quickly. "I'd love to put you in the red Mustang convertible Father." The ultimate MLC car.

Yeah, I thought, that would be great. Wind blowing through my thinning gray hair. Sun putting a few more liver spots on my face. But then the mental picture of arriving at the Chancery office in a red Mustang convertible deterred me. I could just see my fellow clerics peering through the venetian blinds and saying, "Uh-huh, we told you so. Last priest who bought a convertible left the priesthood."

I prayed for the grace to resist temptation. "Be gone Satan in whatever you drove in on."

In the end, I bought your basic "priest car." It is an all-American, (85% domestic content) sedan. Why do celibates buy "family cars, I wondered?

But I couldn't resist temptation altogether. I bought a Taurus in "matador red" with a "spoiler" on the trunk. There are few things more ridiculous than a family car with a spoiler. It's like putting wings on a pig.

One teenager in the parish looked at it and said, "Oh, you bought a turtle car."

I guess I am comfortable with the statement the car makes because it is honest. It says, "confused, middle-aged and middle class."

Inside, however, when the windows are rolled up and I'm all alone, I do play the radio loudly and sing along to the Oldies station.

Lord have mercy on me a sinner.

Refugees

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Tue, 22 Jun 1999 01:36:00 +0000

Watching CNN during dinner one night, not long ago, I was surprised to see a former law student of mine, Kevin Appleby standing at a bank of microphones in Washington. He was there with his boss, Mark Franken, representing the Migration and Refugee Services office of the U.S. Catholic Conference. It made me proud of our Church and the work of our bishops. It also made me proud of the effects of Catholic social teaching on public policy.

Kevin and Mark had been to a meeting at the White House to plead the case of the Kosovar refugees. They were asking that these refugees not be sent to the Marine Base at Guantanemo Bay, Cuba. Instead, they argued, these traumatized people should be treated like true refugees, not prisoners, and brought to the U.S. mainland.

Initially the Clinton administration had wanted to send these poor people to Cuba because they would not be entering U.S. soil, and therefore would have no legal rights as refugees to stay in the U.S.

Our church argued that this was inhuman. They should not be treated like prisoners. They should not be sent to a prison camp, where they will be kept behind concertina wire and guard towers. Where they would have to live in tents under a tropical sun. They would have no schools, no hospitals, and no community support. It would be taking them from one bad situation in the refugee camps in the Balkans to a worse situation in Cuba. It was unworthy of us as a nation.

Our church representatives and other refugee service organizations won the argument with the administration. Through their efforts the Kosovars are now being brought to Fort Dix, N.J. There they are processed and sent on to relatives or sponsoring agencies and families. They can stay here or go home if they want. This is a much more humane way to treat these people.

Most of the time the average Catholic does not get to see what the U.S. Catholic Conference does on our behalf. It is a bureaucracy in far away Washington that we know little about.

But in this case, it is a result we can understand and appreciate. They were able to make a constructive change in policy. Through the bishops conference we also had a chance to teach government policy makers a little about Catholic social teaching and the writing of the popes on the rights of refugees. The principle of solidarity and human dignity mentioned so often in recent writings of John Paul II requires us to see every other human person as one like ourselves.

Actually our church does this every day. Over one third of the people who come to the U.S. as refugees each year from various countries are resettled through the help of the Catholic Church. We could do more. Even with the 20,000 refugees from Kosovo, the U.S. is still taking over 50,000 fewer refugees each year under the Clinton administration than we did under the Bush administration. In light of our booming economy we could do more. In light of the huge need right now in the Balkans we should do more.

In any case, we Catholics can be proud of the impact of our church in this situation. It is how the gospel changes and saves lives.

Committment

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sat, 05 Jun 1999 01:29:00 +0000

When do people in our culture make mature, life-time commitments? At age 12 or 13? Probably not.

Nevertheless, we confirm our children at that age. We ask them to state publicly that they wish to be full members of the Catholic Church. We know full well, that even as the bishop is applying oil to their foreheads, most of them will abandon the faith for a while, perhaps permanently.

This is not just a problem in the Catholic Church. According to an article published last fall in the Washington Post, by Presbyterian pastor Henry Briton, the same thing happens in all the mainline Christian denominations. Children are confirmed and almost immediately stop participating in their churches. Seventy-five percent of Presbyterians, for example, stop practicing after confirmation. This is compared to 59% of non-Latino Catholics in the U.S. The same is true of Jewish children who make their bar mitzvah or bat mitzvah at about the same age. Most don't go back to synagogues anytime soon, if ever.

For most young people, confirmation is graduation from religion. . We may see they again on a regular basis when they want to get married or perhaps some personal crisis draws them back, such as a death in the family.

Like most pastors, I am saddened by this. Not because of a lack of "institutional" identification, but because they miss out on all the support and help the family of faith can give to their young and turbulent lives.

I don't have any solution to the problem. There probably is no good solution. But I do have some suggestions.

First, we need to put this in perspective. People make all kinds of sincere promises that they do not keep. How many of us have resolved quite last New Year's day to loose weight or give up smoking? Just because people fail for one reason or another does not mean they are not sincere.

Second, we need to recognize what Rev. Briton says with pithy brevity, "Religion is caught not taught." The way insure that people, actually will live their faith in Jesus Christ is to expose them to people who are living it. We cannot expect them to memorize their way to religious commitment. We cannot treat the faith as merely a set of propositions and lists to be learned.

The practice of many bishops of interrogating the confirmandi seems to me to send the whole wrong message. There obviously can be no thorough examination of the candidates. It is a hit or miss exercise in terror for adolescents who are afraid of embarrassing themselves in front of their family and friends. It would be better if bishops would tell a story, perhaps their story. Why has the bishop persisted in the Catholic faith? Why does he find it meaningful? Who does the bishop see as a religious hero in his life who made him want to live his life in commitment to Christ and His church?

Third, every confirmation program should include some kind of retreat. Coming to faith commitment requires exposure to prayer. For many of them, the retreat is their first real experience of personal and sustained prayer.

For the young people in our parish the retreat really the most important part of confirmation. It is the actual moment that some of them really do make a true commitment. It is the first time that they hear the stories of faith of from adults and youth mentors. It is the first time they really feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in prayer. I would require a retreat from anyone about to make a serious spiritual commitment, whether in marriage, ordination, baptism or confirmation.

I know that these suggestions will not change the percentage of practicing Catholics radically. However, it might make our confirmation ceremonies a bit more meaningful and our expectations a bit more realistic.

First Communions

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Wed, 28 Apr 1999 01:31:00 +0000

This coming weekend, some 62 fresh faced and innocent children from our parish will line up for their First Holy Communion. It is one of the high points of parish life and one of the touchstones of Catholic culture. I love it.

Like many parishes, we have to divide the kids up into small groups. So, we have three special "first communion" masses, because there are so many relatives crowed into the pews, ready to document every precious moment. Some years it looks more like a media stakeout than a liturgy. The average middle class parish has more camera equipment than CNN.

It is a moment everybody remembers. Even famously "fallen away" Catholics, like Madonna, have their yellowed first communion pictures pasted carefully in their photo-albums.

Why? For one thing, I suppose, the kids look good. Parents are not accustomed to seeing their little ones all dressed up, let alone marching in straight lines, with their hands folded and eyes gazing heavenward. Our little ones look like so many ceramic statues in a religious goods store. What parent doesn't melt before such a vision?

Prudent pastors know not to tamper with first communion customs. It is the "third rail" of liturgical reform. Change in other areas of parish life may be permissible, but children are fundamentally conservative. Don't try doing away with the procession, or the photos, or the special song. And above all, don't touch the clothes.

A few years ago a priest friend of mine at a fairly liberal, upper middle class parish in Milwaukee tried to do away with the special clothes, the veils and dresses for the girls and the white suits for the boys. He told the parents to bring their kids to communion at a regular Sunday mass, to emphasize that it was an ordinary part of family life. He was almost lynched.

Former revolutionary, baby boomer, "flower-power" generation descended on the parish auditorium for a heated meeting. They demanded the traditional clothes.

These were the kind of parents who tried to engage their little ones in conversation and made them watch PBS. But they were helpless when their seven year old girls were in tears, yelling, "I want the dress." The boys appeared a little less attached to those white ties, but thought dressing up was cool. In any case, they did not want to be left out or shown up by the girls. The brief flirtation with "every day" clothing was abandoned. I certainly never tried to replicate the "Milwaukee experiment" after I heard about the parental furry.

The clothing and the "group think" aside, there is something wonderful and disarming about first communion.

For years the children have been carried up

Columbine High School

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Wed, 28 Apr 1999 01:29:00 +0000

A year ago, after the school shootings in Mississippi, Kentucky, Arkansas, and Oregon, we were all alarmed. I preached one Sunday on the problem of violence in our culture. The cult of evil, the easy access to guns, the absent parents, the vile entertainment and the spirit of vengeance that is abroad in our society all contribute to making these things possible.

A lady in our parish who is a trained counselor came forward and offered to host a listening and training session for junior high school students and their parents. She thought that it could help us identify possibly violent situations and tell our young people what they could do about them. It seemed like a heaven sent idea. We scheduled a Monday night meeting at the beginning of the school year. We put a notice in the bulletin. I made announcements form the pulpit. No one came.

We figured that it had just been a bad night. So we tried again.

This time we sent out notices as well as the other means of publicity. We got four families and their children.

Considering that we have at least 100 families with teenage children in the parish, it was a disappointing showing.

I chalked it up to a "pastoral learning experience" and thought no more about it. No more, that is, until Columbine High School. Like everyone else I watched in horror as a student massacre unfolded live and in color before our eyes.

The media did the usual interviews. They all sounded like the previous shootings. We have heard it before. "This is such a nice community." "This is such a lovely school." "We never would have dreamed that it would happen here." "Who would have thought it would happen in such a nice place?" "We moved here for the schools."

It is all true. They are nice communities. Just like mine.

We have a good school system, clean and orderly. We have middle class families in a semi-rural area. We have hard working parents with jobs in the city and long commutes. Both parents working long hours and children home alone for several hours per day. We also have not much to do after the school closes down. A lot of pressure is put on the overburdened school system to provide the social, athletic, moral and intellectual training for all the children. Too much pressure and too few resources. Not to mention the lack of religious training or moral values in the lives of our children and in our schools. Worst of all our middle class homes have easy access to guns. Lots of them.

All these things and many more contributed to each tragedy. If there were such a tragedy where I live, the interviews would be just the same. "We never would have dreamed that it would happen here."

The more I thought about it, the more worried I got. These things are preventable. They are not like hurricanes or earthquakes that we cannot stop. They are acts of man, not God.

The Sunday after the killings I preached about the school violence. I reminded the parish of our training sessions on school violence the previous year and that hardly anybody showed up.

"This year," I said, "if you want your kid confirmed in this parish, the parents and the children must attend a workshop on school violence and ways to prevent it. And don't come whining to me when your kid can't be confirmed here because you didn't attend."

I made the promise. Now we have to deliver a program that is worth the time of all those parents and students. We will.

But even just the act of getting everybody together to think about it will be useful. We are not just going to let things drift along. We know from sad experience that it can happen here. In nice communities just like mine. Especially if we do nothing to stop it.

New Lectionary

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 16 Apr 1999 01:35:00 +0000

We have been using the new lectionary, for about six months now. Since the first week of Advent. Considering how long we waited for its publication, I expected more of an impact. So far it has been greeted a yawn.

I think this is a mark of a modest "success" in liturgical change.

Years ago, C. S. Lewis criticized the members of his Anglican church whom he called the "liturgical fidgets". They were always changing everything. He noted that liturgy works best when "through long familiarity, we don't have to think about it." He compared it to ballroom dancing. If you have to count the steps, (i.e. think about dancing), you are not really dancing. In liturgy, if you are constantly doing new things, and therefore have to "count the steps" you are not really praying. The basic idea of liturgy is a ritual that by long repetition develops in us what Lewis called the habito dell'arte.

But he also noted that there is no such thing as "timeless" English and that the words of scriptural translations and prayers should change with the culture. However, the change should be gradual, replacing an obsolete word here and an outworn style there, when necessary.

So I guess, by this standard, the new lectionary is a modest success. Nothing too jarring.

Some things I like. I like its replacement of some phrases like "sons of God" with the more inclusive "children of God" is better accepted by the modern ear.

Some things about the new lectionary, however, don't make any sense to me.

For instance, the style they use in the introduction of the readings is not consistent. Why does it use the word "saint" in the introductions to the second reading. We used to say simply a "reading from Paul's letter to the Romans." Now we say "a reading from the letter of Saint Paul's letter to the Romans." Don't we already know that it is Saint Paul, not Pope Paul or Paul Jones?

If they are going to adopt this style for one introduction, why don' they keep it for the gospel? In introducing the Gospel, we drop the "Saint" title and say simply a "reading from the holy gospel according to Mark." How come we have to tell the congregation the writer is a "saint" for the second reading and don't mention it for the gospel? Seems to me the old way was simpler and more consistent.

Sometimes the new translation is actually more obscure.

For instance the second week after Easter, we have become used to hearing that the name Thomas means twin. The new translation goes back and uses the Greek, "Didymus" again. If the idea was to make the translation more intelligible and if we have come to be used to the English word "twin", why would we change back to a more obscure Greek word that nobody in the congregation understands?

Some changes were made for no particular reason. For example, in Matthew's passion when Judas says, "Surely it is not I, Rabbi." Jesus used to say, "It is you who have said it." Now Jesus says, "You have said so." Is the change really worth it.

Other examples come to mind. Why, change Jacob's "well" to a "cistern" in the story of the Samaritan woman? Do we now have to change the hymn to "Jesus met the woman at the cistern?"

Oh well, (or is it oh cistern), I suppose that anyone could "nit-pick" about a translation. There don't seem to be any huge problems. It just doesn't seem to have been worth the effort.

The only thing we can say for sure about the new lectionary, it has certainly been a great boon to the publishers and sellers of expensive liturgical books. Consider that 20,000 Catholic churches and chapels in the U.S. have had to replace every single lectionary and book of the gospels.

As they say in Virginia, "That's a long way to go for a short drink of water."

Why 2 K?

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sat, 27 Mar 1999 02:40:00 +0000

What is it with this Y2K stuff? Even churches, which are supposed to have their minds focused on things eternal, are worried about it.

Of course, we would be silly not to take the problem seriously. We have become a computer dependent world in many ways.

Recently we received a survey form in the mail from our local electric company, which rents our parish hall sometimes. They said they wanted to be sure that all their "contractors" were "Y2K" compliant. It had a lot of questions. I did my best to respond to them honestly.

"Will your safe open after the millennium?" Answer: "Ya, if I can find the key it will."

"Is your programmable thermostat Y2K ready?" Answer: "The dang'd thing doesn't works right anyhow. It probably thinks the millennium has already come. Don't know why it should be any different next year."

"Will your parking lot lights and other outside lights function?" Answer: "If I can remember to turn them on."

"Will your door locks be affected?' Answer: "We should be able to slide that dead bolt back and forth pretty well after the millennium, provide the weather is not too damp."

The last question was the one that stumped me. "Will your essential functions be affected?"

Now, I had to give this question a little more consideration. Just what are our essential functions?

The church is primarily a community of charity and prayer. Probably we could continue our essential functions pretty well. We should be able to celebrate the sacraments, do works of charity, study the scriptures, and teach the faith, even if the computers shut down.

We might not be able to fill in all those forms that come to us from the diocese and the government, which would be God's justice. We probably wouldn't be able to generate so much paper, which would save the rain forests. We might not be able to schedule so many events, which would give us all a needed Sabbath rest.

The power company survey made me wonder. What if we sent out a similar "doomsday survey" to determine if people were "Second Coming" compliant. What would we ask? Probably something like this.

Have you fed the hungry lately?

Have you given drink to the thirsty?

Are strangers welcomed in your community?

What provisions have you made for clothing the naked and sheltering the homeless?

Are your programs for visiting the sick and the imprisoned working?

Do you worship God in spirit and truth?

Have you been building each other up with words of encouragement?

What provisions have you made for the meek to inherit the land?

Have you been reconciling enemies, making peace, and comforting those who mourn?

How much mercy have you shown?

In what way have you hungered and thirsted for justice?

Have you preached the good news to the ends of the earth?

Have you baptized all nations and told people of God's love?

Have you stored up sufficient treasure in heaven?

I'd be willing to bet that most of us would have a lot harder time filling out the second form than the first. I'd also be willing to bet that it would be a lot more important to get compliant with the second one.

One way or another we will muddle through the computer glitches of Y2K. If we don't get compliant with the concerns of the Lord's survey, we might not get through the last judgment unscathed.

Now that's a survey to take seriously.

Awards

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 19 Mar 1999 02:27:00 +0000

This is the awards season. Academy Awards, Grammy Awards, Image Awards, Country Music Awards. Most of them not really all that memorable in the long run, despite their hype.

Perhaps we in the church should give out awards. Not for performances, but for real life.

There would be no shortage of nominees. There is so much grace around in real life it is amazing. In fact, that is what we could call them, the "Amazing Grace" awards.

The arrival of Easter is a good time to celebrate the harvest of grace from Lent. So here are my own personal nominees for the "Amazing Grace" awards. They are all real people.

And the nominees are ---

The several young mothers who get their little toddlers up and dressed and bring them to daily mass.

The husband who stays resolutely at the bedside of his wife of 57 years and holds her hand as she lies dying.

The young man who works in a fast paced information technology job, who starts the day with the liturgy of the hours at his desk .

The father of six children who stops by the church on his way home from work to pray for his family.

The three teenage boys who spent hundreds of hours putting together a web site for our parish youth group. They dedicated it to five teenagers killed in auto accidents in our county this year and included a prayer list and a "hot link" to a biographies of the saints so our confirmation class could use the information in picking their names.

The adult leaders who give their Wednesday evenings to working with teenagers who are not even their own children, just because they love kids despite their baggy pants and pierced body parts.

The single young people in our parish who persevere in chastity.

The retired business man who devotes his time and the money from the sale of his business to the needs of youth, setting up youth centers for the arts and athletics throughout our area.

A retired nurse who volunteers her time and effort to hospice work, taking care of the dying.

The young lawyer in our parish who devotes his lunch hours to teaching illiterate adults to read.

The doctor and nurse, husband and wife team, who take time out of a busy medical practice twice each month to cook meals for the area homeless shelter and their three teenage sons who help them deliver the meals.

The retired airline mechanic who devotes full time to taking care of the homeless, despite the fact that he is struggling with his own cancer. Also nominated as co-stars should be the over one hundred people who volunteer to keep the shelter going, many of them retired.

The social workers for Catholic Charities who distribute food, medicine, clothing and sympathy to hundreds of people every day for very little pay and no recognition.

The women who volunteer a few hours each week to teach English to the migrant workers in our area and the young Spanish speaking mother who translates for the same migrant workers, to lessen their isolation and help them with their many problems.

The Knights of Columbus who spend their Saturdays at the state university football and basketball games, manning the concession stands and giving all the proceeds to charity.

A bedridden man at the nursing home who told me he uses his time praying for priests.

The team of our RCIA program who prepare their talks each week to bring more people to know the love of Christ.

The young women who volunteer at the neighborhood crisis pregnancy center and who save lives every week.

And the winner is: All the rest of us.

My parish is not unique. Any pastor could make a similar list. Perhaps we all should. There is so much goodness and grace, it is truly amazing. These are the real award winners.

Prayers of the Faithful

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sat, 27 Feb 1999 02:36:00 +0000

In our parish the Prayer of the Faithful is spontaneous. People place their petitions before God and the church, after a brief introduction from the priest.

It works pretty well. Most people pray for the sick or for someone who has died. When there is a big event in the news, it often makes its way into our prayer. For instance when Princess Diana died, a number of little children were moved to pray for her.

A lot of the folks are too shy to say anything at all. Some just say, "For a special intention." This is fine, except that then we don't really know what we are praying for. (It could be that we are praying that their neighbor's dog will die.) Probably they keep the intention vague because it is something they are too embarrassed to talk about publicly. We understand.

Sometimes, however, after we have had three or for "special intentions" in a row I feel like saying "For all of our special intentions." After all, we always pray for the "all the prayers we hold in our hearts." That should cover it.

Some people have a single intention that they voice at every mass, e.g., "For the unborn" or "for the children of our parish."

One man often prays by name for all the priests who have been at our parish during his time. Until recently he left me out. Lately I've been added to the list, which tells me he has finally accepted me.

Every now and then someone rambles on a little bit. Sometimes they loose their train of thought. Recently one man started out to pray for somebody, but forgot the name, so he just said, "For our neighbors to the south." It made no sense to us but we dutifully said, "Lord hear our prayer." God can sort it out.

Really our spontaneous prayer is not so spontaneous. We have a clearly defined etiquette. God help the visitor who violates the pecking order.

At weekday mass we have a dear, motherly lady, Mary Claire, who always prays first. We know to wait for her. On the rare occasions that she is not at mass there are a couple of seconds of dead air while people look around. Often someone will say, "For all of Mary Claire's intentions, we pray to the Lord." Only then are we free to begin with our intentions.

Mary Claire has a list. She starts out with the "right to life of all innocent babies throughout this whole world" and then touches briefly on world peace, an end to starvation and communism, vocations, the sick, travelers and usually ends up with the unemployed. Those are the regulars. She also has seasonally adjusted intentions. God does not rest during flu season if Mary Claire has anything to say about it.

Sometimes she clarifies things for God a bit. For instance, when she prays, "for all travelers," she often adds, "whether for business or for pleasure." She wants God to remember her son, who drives a 18-wheeler out west. He is certain that it was his mother's prayers that saved him last year when his rig rolled over in a blinding snowstorm.

God listens to Mary Claire and her husband Bill. She prayed for an end to communism in Russia, it came. He prayed for a cemetery and a crisis pregnancy center and we got one of each. I have a stock I'd like then to remember if it wouldn't be sacrilegious.

When I first came to this parish I made the mistake of cutting off the spontaneous petitions on Sundays, thinking they would go on too long. At the first parish council meeting there was an explosion. I never tried that again. Never would. Our prayer is truly the prayer of the "faithful." It is a window to our worries and our loves.

Labor and Conscience

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Tue, 23 Feb 1999 02:33:00 +0000

Every now and then a parishioner comes to me with a moral question that arises in their workplace. Recently a young man in my parish came to me with such a problem.

He works for the international headquarters of a large labor union which is affiliated with the AFL-CIO.

He had received a memo from the women's department of his union asking him to join an organization called The Coalition of Labor Union Women. Its stated purpose is the promotion of the rights of working women through the political process. The Coalition supports many laudable things; including such things as more liberal parental and family leave, child care, universal health care, the organization of unrepresented women, an end to sweatshops, and a higher minimum wage. All of these issues are strongly supported by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops.

But on the list of Coalition activities is the support of what they call "reproductive freedom", a euphemism for abortion.

Basically the Coalition is like many other Washington-based pressure groups. Their strength depends upon having a large membership roster, which they can point to when claiming support for their agenda. They also benefit from the dues that each of their members must pay.

My parishioner did not want to lend his name or his money, in any way to the promotion of abortion. He did not want to allow himself to be a statistic in their membership roster. It is a matter of religious conscience. He rightly regards abortion as a grave moral evil. Moreover, he also does not see why the promotion of abortion should be any part of the goals of an organization of labor union women.

He decided to stuff the memo in a drawer and forget about it figuring that his bosses would forget about him. He was wrong.

A follow up memo was sent out. It urged everyone to join, saying that issue had the "full support" of the international head of the union. The memo also said that the union had endorsed the Coalition and expected 100% employee participation.

The issue was raised at a meeting of union management at which my parishioner was present. The head of the union asked for the names of the employees who had not yet joined and said he would follow up.

My parishioner went to see the head of the women's department. He told her of his objections. He came away thinking that she had agreed with him and that he would not be expected to join. He was wrong. Not long after he got another memo. Everyone was expected to join.

He came to see me in a quandary. It seemed that he was being forced to choose --- his religious conscience or his job.

This kind of pressure is an outrage.

It violates his right to religious liberty. It also violates his right to freedom of association.

Both rights are fundamental human rights. They are guaranteed by the U. S. Constitution and the U. N. Declaration on Human Rights. They are also an important part of the social teaching of the Catholic Church. No one should be asked to violate his religious conscience as a condition of employment. No one should be forced to join an organization against his will, especially when that organization will claim that its members endorse their views.

Any organization that has to coerce membership to pump up its numbers cannot really be representative or very influential anyway.

No employer, especially a labor union that stands for the protection of workers rights, should force employees to join political organizations as a condition of employment.

It amazes me that a labor union would have so little regard for the religious opinion of Catholics.

Over the years the Catholic Church has generally been a friend to the labor movement in the United States. Catholics have a right to expect that labor unions will return the favor and respect their religious rights.

Deaf

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Tue, 09 Feb 1999 02:30:00 +0000

Holy Hands

On Sunday mornings our eight o'clock mass is signed for the deaf. Actually, I think it is more appropriate to say that it is interpreted for the deaf.

From where I sit in the sanctuary the interpreter has her back to me most of the time. I often notice at that mass that people are watching her instead of me. That is OK. In some ways, signed language is more expressive than spoken language. Especially when the hands and arms are used to describe the glory of God or the concepts of praise and wonder. If I could, I'd watch it too. Human beings have many forms of language, but this one is beautiful to watch.

Recently we had a tragic funeral at our parish for a young man who was deaf. The priest who directs our Catholic Deaf Center came to preside at the mass. Much of the congregation was deaf.

Two thinks struck me.

First, the celebrant signed the prayers before he spoke them. For a little while this gave us hearing people a little taste of what it must feel like to be deaf and function in a hearing world. We were always a second or two behind the sign language. I had the feeling that I was missing something, not knowing the signs. It also made me realize how hard it must be to try to keep up with a rapid fire speech. When I preached the homily, I was aware that I usually go too fast for the interpreter. When spoken slowly, whether in sign or voice, a few words can have greater impact than many.

Second, I was struck by the level of concentration that sign language takes. The deaf community cannot afford to let its mind wander. They have to stay focused or they will loose the train of thought much more easily. I mentioned this to our presider after the mass and he said, "A one hour mass in sign language is more exhausting than a three hour mass in voice, because of the level of concentration it requires."

I have one friend, from my lawyer days, who is deaf. Her name is Bonnie Ryan. She is a lawyer in Minnesota now. Bonnie is one of those remarkable people who crosses flawlessly over from the deaf to the hearing world and back again. She functions well in most circumstances by reading lips flawlessly. She has made me aware of important etiquette. Never talk behind someone's back, literally or figuratively. It is not right to say things when she can't see you. She needs to see the face of the person speaking. She too concentrates very hard. When you speak to someone who reads lips, you have the sense that they are really are listening.

Over the years I have not had much contact with the deaf community. But having one of our masses interpreted for the deaf has opened up my awareness a bit.

For one thing, I have realized that just like with the Spanish community, if we provide for worship in the language of the deaf, they will come. Deaf people are looking for communities that are aware of their existence and willing to accomodate.

In recent years we have come to take it for granted that every church should have ramps, wheel chair accessible doors and bathrooms. We don't think that this is an unusual or necessary expense, even if there are very few people who actually need them. (In my parish we have two people who regularly come to mass in wheel chairs). Why not the same for the hearing impaired that we do for the mobility impaired?

Certainly it was part of the life and ministry of Jesus, He who touched the ears of the deaf man and loosed his tongue in speech. By speaking the language of signs, by lifting up holy hands in words of prayer, we say what Jesus said, "Ephphrata (be openned)."

Growing Concerns

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Thu, 28 Jan 1999 02:32:00 +0000

We are building a new church in our parish. Actually it is not an entirely new one. We are expanding the existing facility, but it will be more than double our worship space and will have amenities we do not currently have in our tiny "chapel of ease," such as a baptismal font.

The fact that our parish is building is not unusual these days. Across the country many parishes are undertaking building programs for the first time in a long time. There is a significant building boom going on in some dioceses.

In the Archdiocese of Washington we have 30 construction projects, costing over a half-million dollars each, going on at the present time. The church is doing more construction now than anytime since the 1950s. It is not just churches. We are even building and expanding schools again. In the last five years two new schools have opened in the Archdiocese of Washington and several more have been expanded.

The reason for all this building is both demographic and geographic.

The demographics are the biggest reason. We are growing. Nationwide we have more Catholics than ever. We are now more than 60 million souls. The population is still growing through births and conversions. Moreover, the children of the baby-boomers long delayed marriages are now in school. The arrival of many Hispanic immigrants during the last 20 years has increased the number of parishioners. A mini religious revival in the 1990s has meant slightly more active congregations. Another factor is the reduced number of priests. With larger congregations and fewer priests we need larger churches to accommodate everyone. In some dioceses there is now a policy that parishes must build churches large enough so that one priest can celebrate no more than three Sunday masses and still get everyone in. The days of having a dozen Sunday masses, like they did at some parishes in Washington in the 1960s, are over. We don't have the clergy.

The geographic shift is also significant. In the 1950s most Catholics lived in central cities, mostly on the two coasts and in northern states. In the last 50 years there has been huge migration south and to exurbia. States like North Carolina, that once had fewer Catholics than some Arabian Emirates, now have exploding Catholic congregations. Charlotte, North Carolina, is now one of the fastest growing dioceses in the nation.

Parishes like mine, on the fringe between rural and suburban America are also part of the geographic trend. Catholics, like everybody else, are following the job shift to place that were once rural. "Fringe" areas like where I live, 50 miles from downtown Washington, are exploding with new people.

The giant infrastructure that the church built in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries in the city centers is under utilized. This is not the white flight of the 60s. This is more the technology drift of the new millenium, where cars and computers mean that jobs and houses can be anywhere.

For us in our parish, this means more than just the technical problems. There are spiritual and moral problems involved too. These touch every parish that is building for the future.

Questions like:

How do we treat people fairly who may be displaced by the building programs?

How do we preserve continuity with the past while building a new spiritual home?

How do we provide for our needs without forgetting the poor and our social responsibilities?

How do we preserve a sense of community and intimacy as we expand to accommodate everyone?

The church is not like any other builder. Our projects are moral and spiritual statements. Making them the right kind of statement is as big a challenge. Just as big as the bricks and mortar.

In Full Retreat

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Fri, 11 Dec 1998 16:37:00 +0000

The people in my parish are crazy about retreats.

We have men's retreat and women's retreat. We have confirmation retreats and Cursillo retreats. We have private retreats and retreats for Catechumens and Candidates. We have marriage encounters and engaged encounters. We have retreats for marriages in trouble and retreats for separated and divorced. We have pilgrimage retreats that take us far away, and Renew mission retreats that we do right here in the parish center.

If it gets us out of the house for a few days, or even a few hours, we're go'in.

I think all of this is a very healthy.

For those people who have really caught the vision of what Christ and His church are offering and asking, a retreat is the logical next step on the journey in faith.

Going to weekly liturgy, doing your own private prayers, participating in religious education is the bedrock of the spiritual life. But there is a desire for deeper and more intense experiences. And a longer time to pause, to pray, to think, and to discuss.

The wonderful thing about these retreats, from the standpoint of parish life, is the bonding that takes place. People come back better friends. They come back knowing each other on a deeper level. They come back with a common experience.

This year, for instance, I made a Men's Cursillo retreat with seven men from our parish. This intensive three-day experience gave a chance to learn about each other. We shared meals and prayers. They even got to see their pastor dressed up as a "fallen angel" in the Saturday night skit. We come back with some common experiences and memories.
It is common memory that makes for community. I think this means the most to our young people.

This year, for instance, we took 72 youth and their chaperones on the Confirmation retreat. Only half of the 72 were actually making their confirmation. The others participated in our program as "advocates". These are teens who have made their confirmation, but want to participate in the confirmation classes as mentors and helpers. For both the confirmandi and the "advocates", the high point of the year is the retreat. So great is the attraction of the retreat, that the advocates are willing to come for two hours every Wednesday night for 30 weeks as the precondition for participating in the retreat.

For teens there is, of course, the attraction of getting away from their house and their parents for a weekend. They like going up into the mountains and hanging out with friends. It gives them a way to build a Catholic identity that they can't get in the public schools that nearly all of our young people attend.

The retreat movement is a truly Catholic part of the spiritual life. It is a chance to experience the joys of the contemplative life. A little bit of monasticism for the average person.

Even the Lord himself felt the need of a retreat from time to time. In Mark's gospel he invited his disciples to "come away to a quiet place" when they were so overwhelmed by the people coming and going that they did not even have time to pray.

We probably need more and other types of retreats. We need retreats for people who are terminally ill. We need "empty-nester" retreats. We need vocation retreats. We need retreats for those who are grieving, for those who are recovering from addictions and for those who are in prison.

All of these are already offered somewhere around us. Part of the job of the parish is to be a conduit that brings people to these opportunities for spiritual growth.

It seems there is an unlimited desire for deeper religious experience. People come a' running when the bugle sounds retreat.

Hail to the Redskins

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Sun, 22 Nov 1998 16:36:00 +0000

I had a one game career in the NFL. Let me tell you how it happened.

It's no secret. This year the Washington Redskins don't have a prayer. Or perhaps more accurately, all they have is a prayer.

About the time our beloved Skins were 0-5, the Washington Post concluded that they needed outside help. The Post began to enlist the local clergy to invoke the aid of the Almighty. It was meant as entertainment, of course, but in this town, people took it seriously.

One thing you have to understand about Washington, there are very few things that unite us as a city. We are collection of transients. We have no discernible accent, eating habits or clothing styles. We have no common race, politics or religion. About the only thing we all share is a football team. So the Redskins matter to everyone: black and white, rich and poor, Republican and Democrat, believer or atheist.

I got a taste of this local passion in my first parish when a man reached his wrist out into the aisle as I processed in for the noon mass and tapped his watch saying, "Remember Father, kick off is 1 PM."

The first draft pick of the Post to ask divine aid was a Protestant minister. He was sent to do battle against the Philadelphia Eagles. We knew it would be a terrible game. Fans in both cities were calling it the "Toilet Bowl." To our shame we got flushed, 12-17.

The next week, a rabbi was called up to ask the help of the Almighty against Minnesota. The Skins were swallowed whole by the Vikings, 41 to 7. Things were bleak in the dens of bureaucrats and lobbyists.

After a "bye week" of contrition and repentance, the Post decided it was time to bring in a Catholic. I called as a free agent against NY/NJ Giants.

At the time the Redskins had a record of 0-7. The pressure was on.

I stayed up most of Thursday night, drafting and redrafting. I searched the psalms for cries of the desperate and dispairing. I know that God does not take sides in football games, but I thought he might hear the cry of the oppressed and downtrodden.

The prayer appeared in the paper the Saturday morning before the Giants came to town. Some people called to say they had cut it out and put it on their refrigerators, where all true football fans go at half-time.

A miracle happened. The Redskins won! They actually beat the Giants, 21-14. I couldn't believe it. I said a Te Deum in thanksgiving.

The next day a lady called to tell me her husband was going into surgery and ask for prayers. "I figured if it worked for the Redskins, it can work for him," she said.

One friend of mine called the Redskins owner and told him that he should hire me as the team intercessor and chaplain. I waited by the phone. No offers. (I would have settled for a skybox.)

One man called and asked if I would pray for an end to the NBA lockout. I told him I was strictly a one sport prayer athlete.

Some people begged the Post for a follow-up prayer against Arizona the next week. But the Post wisely recognized that they had strayed into a theological quagmire. They gave up publishing prayers for the Redskins. The next week, the Skins lost 27-29 to Arizona in the last 2 seconds.

Thus ended my NFL career.

Moving

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Wed, 04 Nov 1998 16:42:00 +0000

After death and divorce, moving is the most traumatic event in life. That's what I think, anyway.

This past week I helped my mother move out of her house. For the last 30 years it had been our family home. For 30 years it was the site of all our major and minor family events. The reception after my sister's wedding, the place we received callers after my father's funeral. It was our regular destination for the family feasts; Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving and summer holidays.

After 30 years in the place, it took on our character and taste. There was not one square inch that someone in the family had not hammered, painted, papered, sanded, scraped, or plastered. When you live in a house for that long, your sweat is in the walls and floorboards.

When the place was nearly empty I took one last nostalgic walk around the seemingly larger rooms. I found my brother sitting in his now barren bedroom, looking at the walls, lost in his thoughts. I couldn't speak. Neither could he.

But it was time to go. My mother had raised her family and the season of life that called for big rambling house for her eight children was over.

Americans move a lot, on average every four years. This sense of loss and new beginnings is part of our lives. It makes us a nation of strangers and vagabonds.

My parish has its share of transplants. Many of them having moved to this rural county, from nearby Washington, DC. Others have relocated to follow the expanding Navy base to our south. Over half the residents of my county have lived here less than 15 years. Many only stay a short while.

For all of its spiritual trauma and sense of loss, there is also a spiritual value to moving.

First of all, if we take advantage of the opportunity, it gives us a sense of spiritual detachment. Once, when I entered the seminary at age 32, I had to move to Rome from Washington. I held a party the week before. Every one who came had to take something away. It was oddly liberating to start life again at age 32 with only a footlocker and a couple of suitcases full of things.

Secondly, it reminds us that we are only pilgrims in this world. No matter how permanent and fixed this life might seem, we are all only passing through. A little mobility reminds us that this world is not our final destination, but a process of becoming.

A third value to moving is that it teaches us to make friends quickly and adapt to new environments. It makes us culturally flexible. Especially when we move to a new culture and adopt a new language. It is the experience of being a child again; full of wonder, discovery and the pain of learning things from scratch.

Finally, moving teaches us that it is relationships with people that are important. Not our stuff. When the moving van comes and hauls it all away, you realize what a humble collection of things it really is anyway. If all the things were lost on the way to the next house, it would not really matter if the people you love were still in your life.

I don't wish moving on anybody, but there are some good things to be said for it. It reminds us that we are the disciples of an itinerant preacher in Galilee who said, "Foxes have their lairs, birds have their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head."

Halloween

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Tue, 13 Oct 1998 15:35:00 +0000

The second most popular holiday of the calendar year is coming soon, Halloween.

Children outside the Washington Beltway are dressing up as witches, goblins, and "action figures." Children inside the Washington Beltway they are dressing up as grand jury witnesses.

For one evening children get the experience of having people react to their costume rather than to the person underneath.

In a way, that is what happens to anyone who wears a uniform, like police, soldiers, letter carriers, or priests.

The reactions that we priests seem to get when in clerical garb are of five varieties. I call them the "GAFAW" reaction: guilt, anger, friendliness, assistance and wonder.

The guilt reaction seems to be inculcated early. I hear it from our pre-schoolers who see me coming down the hall and run away saying, "Oh, oh, it's him!" Once when I was walking through a parking garage in downtown Washington a young woman driving a car filled with other young people squealed around the corner and screeched to a stop. "Sorry Father," she yelled to me through the window, as though I was going to give her detention for bad parking garage manners. Sometimes when I am in the grocery store people will say to their children, "Do you want me to tell the priest what you said?" This seems to be a deterrent to some form of delinquent behavior. I've also noticed people hurriedly putting those gossip tabloids back in the magazine rack when they see me standing in line behind them. Guilt works wonders.

Anger takes more time. Often the anger comes when people have time to talk, like on an airplane. Then they want to tell you about the mean things some priest once said to them in the distant past. Or how outraged they are that either (a) the Catholic Church has not changed its position on something or (b) the Catholic Church has changed its position on something. Sometimes they couple their anger with a declaration that they really "don't care what the Catholic Church says anymore." This is said with such insistence that it tends to call into question whether they have achieved the "Buddha-like" like detachment they claim.

Friendliness is the nicest reaction, even though it is a little puzzling at times. Some people seem to know every priest in the world, or at least assume they do. "Hi ya Father," they call out across streets and theater lobbies and restaurants. "This is my daughter and this is my mother. You know Father so and so at St. such and such, don't you? He was our pastor for years. Great fellow." The friendly types are the nicest, unless you are in a hurry.

Assistance is part of the territory with clerical garb. People think we should know how to help or, conversely, that we need help. This is actually a nice reaction, since it gives a great opportunity to talk to people. Sometimes they presume that we should be an easy touch. Not long ago I was leaving my high school reunion on the West Side of Chicago with a group of classmates; all of whom are better fixed financially than I am, when a man approached us and asked for money. Actually, he asked me for money, even though there were other people there (in much better suits I might add). Nobody else reached for their wallet. Somehow they figured that was my job.

Of course, the assistance reaction works the other way just as often. Once, as I approached the cashier in the local cafeteria, she told me, "That's OK Father, its been taken care of." I figure it all comes out in the wash. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord."

Finally, the most interesting reaction in wonder. People wonder about a lot of things and the clerical uniform gives them a chance to ask. This is the best reason for wearing clerical garb. It is an invitation to people to talk about faith.

They want to know about celibacy and what it means. They want to know what you believe and when you decided to be a priest. They want to know what we believe about the afterlife, suffering, the soul and grace. They want to know about the Christ and His church.

It is the "wonder" reaction that makes it all worthwhile. It means that everyday brings a treat, not just Halloween.

Making a Crowd into a Community

noreply@blogger.com (St. John Vianney) — Thu, 01 Oct 1998 15:40:00 +0000

The evangelist Luke records that when Jesus fed the 5,000, He instructed the disciples to rearrange the crowd into small groups of about 50. Then He blessed the loaves and fishes and distributed them to the small clusters of followers. Even for the Lord it was apparently unwieldy to minister to the whole crowd.

Beginning this fall, our parish, like many others, is following the example of the Lord in ministering to people in smaller clusters. We are participating in RENEW 2000, a nationwide program, to spiritually prepare American Catholics for the new millenium.

The heart of RENEW is small groups. Not the clusters of 50 people that Luke mentioned, but living room sized groups of six to ten. But the idea is the same.

It is simply impossible to minister to the whole "crowd" of the parish in any meaningful way. But when we are broken up into small groups we can not only can we get to know each other, but we can "minister" to each other.

Like the theme song from "Cheers" said, we all want to go where "everybody knows your name." In many American Catholic parishes that just can't happen because we are too big. For example, my parish, with 620 families and 2,000 souls, is only considered "medium sized." But there is no way I could meaningfully know everyone. Compared with many Protestant churches, our parishes are huge. For example, we are engaged in RENEW together with a neighboring Episcopal church which has about one-third as many people.

If we operate on the "filling station" model of ministry, just distributing the sacraments to crowds of people, perhaps we can function for a while. But we cannot really come to know one another. We remain alone in a crowd. Our joys and sorrows, hurts and triumphs, needs and gifts also remain unknown. Sometimes nobody even knows our name.

It is impossible for any one person, including the priest, to know everyone. Even the Lord could not personally come to know each of the 5,000 people who followed Him to the hillside in Galilee. But it is possible for small groups to come to know each other.

This is where the small groups of RENEW come in. For six weeks each fall and spring we divide up into small discussion groups of 6-10 people. The groups meet in someone's home once a week at a time convenient to the participants. We will do this for five seasons, each time rotating groups a little. Gradually we will come to know each other better.

People seem to like this idea. In our parish about 280 people signed up for RENEW discussion groups. We have over 30 groups of all types: young adults and seniors, Spanish and English speaking, mornings and evenings.

The great thing about these groups is that they turn a "crowd" into a "community." We will come to know each other and minister to each other. By praying together, we are organized around the real work of parish life, prayer. By studying the scriptures together, we are doing what the multitude in the gospel did, listening to Jesus.

Great things can come from small groups. After all, the Lord started with twelve.