For my British readership

Some of good friends of mine and their high school age son are in London visiting their son who is studying in Wales.

Do you have any recommendations as to what they should see before returning home?

The high schooler has aksed if the London Dungeons are worth seeing.

Too much of a production?

A priest-friend of mine e-mailed a request to help hear his second graders' First Confessions. The way in which he offered the invitation both made me laugh out loud and has given a bit of food for thought:

Nothing fancy… my focus on these things is not to make a big production for the second graders. We won’t do a big Liturgy of the Word with song-singing and a candlelighting/butterfly releasing event at the end… (Actually, releasing butterflies in January might be considered cruel.) I’ll just offer a good last-minute examination of conscience, review of the ritual, and get ‘em going. The idea is that this experience of the sacrament should be as normative as possible with respect to what they might experience on a Saturday afternoon-- all the parts and prayers (such as the Act of Contrition, etc) in tact.

I, too, am rather in favor of not releasing butterflies in January. The last thing we need is the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals coming after us.

I also share his conviction "that this experience of the sacrament should be as normative as possible."

Is a child's First Confession an important, holy and joyous day? Of course it is. But it should also be just the first of many confessions thorughout their lifetime. Does making a big to do of this day go against that principle by making their first confession so do different than their second confession? Or their 83rd?

I do not know, but I suspect it might. Compared to a child's first confession, his second might seem a rather a let down, a bit anti-climactic.

Singing cutesy songs after their first confession, giving paper hearts or flowers to mom and dad may be fun for the children and entertaining for adults (who are rightly proud of their children), but does not help prepare them for their next confession? Does it help instill within them a genuine love of the sacrament? Does it help them understand our need of the sacrament?

My penitents have told me that they like confessing to me because it is "easy." What they seem to mean is that I do not ask too many questions and I do not offer too much advice. I very clearly make a distinction between confession and spiritual direction. I only ask questions if I need more information to understand the nature of their sin, and I only offer words of counsel if I genuinely feel the penitent needs them. At the same time, I will hear confessions anywhere - on the soccer field, in the library, in a corner stairway, walking down the sidewalk, in the dining room and, of course, in the confessional itself. And all without any fanfare, just the rite in its simplicity and beauty.

I wonder if my priest-friend is on to something. Please feel free to discuss this in the combox, with charity, of course. You are free to disagree with me.

The sitting room

N.B.: For some reason, Blogger will not let me move these pictures. There were intended to go within the text below.

In the room just off the front entrance my predecessor kept his office. I attempted to do the same but the more I tried to make the room - which seems to have been intended as a sitting room - I simply could not make it work.

One day last week someone came by the rectory for spiritual direction. As I waited for her to arrive it suddenly dawned I me that I really did not have anywhere to sit and visit with directees, parishioners or even friends and guests. We talked at the dining room and I resolved to remedy the situation.

Upstairs my predecessor had set aside a room - that had been two rooms - as a library and study. Since the shelves and desk are attached to the walls I kept the room for the same use and have now moved all of my office into it (consequently, it is a bit disheveled at the moment). I decided to use the room just off of the entrance to the rectory as my sitting room, to visit with friends and guests, to watch television and play video games, and even read the occasional book.

Earlier this week I went to the local furniture store and chose a couch and two chairs to make the room both comfortable and stately. They arrived this morning so I've spent the majority of the day rearranging the house.

When the new drapes arrive which have been ordered the room will really take shape.

Presently I am tired of being in the house all day and am going for a swim. When I return I'll see to a bit of paperwork, work on a homily or two and call it a day.

Sleepless nights

I apparently was not the only priest to sleep precious little during the course of the night. In my case, I suspect the weather is still up to something...

Another priest put his sleepless night to work (I've been working on a redesigning the format for the parishes bulletins) and put together a list of things on his Facebook page people may not know about priests [with my comments]:

1. The absolute worst time to tell us anything important is in the receiving line after Mass. Don't expect us to remember... [He's right, you know]
2. We are very flattered that people think of us when they go to Mass on their vacation, but we don't collect bulletins from other parishes.
3. We don't have anyone cook for us. Most of us tend for ourselves [and most of us don't mind this].
4. We aren't offended when people swear in front of us. "I'm sorry, Father," isn't necessary [or if it is, it ought to be necessary in front of anyone].
5. Celebrating all the sacraments is a joy but, given a chance, 9 out of 10 priests would rather do a funeral than a wedding [there's a lot less paperwork involved].
6. We go to confession to other priests, usually outside of the Diocese or to a spiritual director. We can't go to ourselves.
7. We have one weekday that is our day off. The most popular day off is Monday [I prefer Friday because the parish does not have a Saturday morning Mass]. Obviously, we're busy on weekends.
8. We don't sleep in clerical garb [and we often wear "normal people clothes" around the house]. Nor do we bathe in holy water.
9. Words of support and encouragement are much appreciated. So is honest feedback. "I didn't understand your homily" would be a most welcome critique [along with an idea of where we lost you, otherwise the critique isn't of much use].
10. We like other people saying a meal prayer from time to time.
11. We don't remember most of everything that's said in the confessional because we hear so many [and we don't want to remember]. They all sort of run together...

Simple things

Last evening one of the parishioners invited me over for an evening with the high school students from Sacred Heart parish. The idea was to have an evening of "fun with Fr. Daren."

Two of the moms prepared salad, bread and desserts and I made my (well, Giada de Laurentiis' [I didn't make the meatballs but I bet those would be good]) rigatoni all'amatriciana. It's an unbelievably simple dish that yields a most delicious result.

The conversation was more entertaining than the picture shows.

After we ate we sat down for a good game of Apples to Apples and fun was indeed had by all.

It was an enjoyable way to include a day that included two Masses, my first baptism in my new parishes and a meeting with the lectors and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion.


Today found me mostly at my desk attending to more paperwork, that is, after celebrating Mass in the parish and then at the nursing home.

The non-sacramental highlight of the day occured in the afternoon when I went to the local furniture shop to purchase a couch and two chairs for the sitting room I will soon have in which I will visit with friends and guests (who may well be one and the same). The furniture should arrive on Thursday.

Tomorrow will find me largely on the go. The day will begin with confessions and Mass at 7:15, followed by a quick bit in the office before a meeting of the Virden-Girard Ministerial Association. After the meeting I will join one of the area pastors for lunch.

At 1:30 I will meet a representative from Collette Vacations to talk about the possibility of my being a chaplain for some of their tours, particularly one to Germany next year. At 3:00 I have a meeting in Springfield regarding a trust set up to benefit Catholic education. At 7:00 I will celebrate Mass for the Ladies' Sodality and, if energy and strength permits, I will join them for their meeting after the Mass.

A happy thought

...on an otherwise dreary day:

Good news

Over at Adam's Ale, Fr. V. passes on the happy news that he is no longer the parochial administrator of St. Sebastian Parish in Akron, Ohio; he is the Pastor.

Congratulations, Fr. V.!

I love being a priest

One of the great joys and privileges of being a priest is hearing confessions, to listen to a fellow sinner sincerely seeking to follow Christ more faithfully. To offer a few words of counsel (I rarely say very much, preferring instead to stay out of the Lord's way), to give a penance, to speak the words of absolution is more fulfilling than can be put into words.

This morning I heard confessions for a retreat with high school students from the St. Louis area. One of the priests who was to help had a funeral this morning so I spent more time hearing confessions than I expected but was profoundly touched by the honesty of the penitents and of their desire for greater union with Christ.

There are those who are concerned for the future because of the youth of today; I am not one of them.

The life of a priest is truly a blessed, rewarding and fulfilling life. Priestly ministry - given my weak constitution resulting from my arthritis - often leaves me nearly exhausted, but always happy even if I do not always look it.

We priests sometimes refer to it generically as the great Sunday slump, a state in which physically a priest is fine, but spiritually, emotionally and pyschologically there is little left and he ambles along in a zombie-like state. I'm about in that state now so if I'm rambling along, I trust you'll forgive me.

Two new books you should get

Friday I stopped in Effingham for dinner with several friends and stopped by the local Christian bookstore before hand on my way from a meeting in Mattoon.

I was looking for Francis Cardinal George's new book, The Difference God Makes and found two recently released books from Baker Academic in their Catholic Commentary on Scripture series: II Corinthians and Ephesians. I've used the volume on Mark extensively and highly recommend it.

If you haven't looked at this series yet, be sure to do so.

Ascending the keep

While away on the Kairos retreat earlier this week with the senior boys from St. Anthony's, I gave a talk on the love of God. In the course of the talk, I shared with them how I came to know God's love through the deaths of my parents.

I said to them,

Those castles I had built with Legos were somehow quickly built of my own emotions. It seemed as though all of the people I loved were being taken away from me, so now I would be very careful whom I loved so that I would not be so deeply and profoundly hurt again. This was a necessary thing for an eight-year-old boy to do, but very unfortunate as well, because it kept me from experiencing the love of countless people – as it continues to do today - and it stopped me from sharing so much of the love that is within me, struggling to be set free.

I did, however, notice something slowly changing inside of me: someone was trying to break through my defenses and it seemed the intruder was successful. I began to feel, ever so slowly, a little bit more at peace.

This undetected intruder was Jesus Christ. I do not remember explicitly inviting him in, but I also did not refuse him. His all but sudden appearance in my keep was the best thing to ever happen to me.

Others were allowed - ever so slowly - to enter into the castle, as it were. The closer the friend the farther they were allowed to enter. This remains largely true to this day, though I am trying, with God's grace, to chip away at the walls I have constructed.

The next day another adult on the retreat gave a talk on obstacles to God's love and used Simon and Garfunkle's song, "I am a rock" to introduce his talk:



Not being one to get out very much I'm not sure I'd heard the song before. If I had, I certainly never paid it any attention.

Before the song ended, one of the boys leaned over to me and said, "It sounds like the song was written for you."

Since the retreat I've listened to the song several times and it has grown on me. With the exception of the line, "I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. It's laughing and it's loving I disdain," I think I agree with him; the song suits me well.

I've always known I have a need of friendship - as does everyone - and that friendship causes pain because it entails love (which always is a willingness to suffer), but I've never disdained laughter or love.

I've always been aware of the contradiction - perhaps paradox is a better word - of both retreating into the interior castle and of yearning to love and be loved; the two move in opposite directions. The walls are built up for proctection, yet these very walls cause pain because, as Rich Mullins sang, "There's a lot of love locked up inside me I'm learning to give."

For those who have suffered the loss of a great love, allowing oneself to be vulnerable again to love and be loved can be a great difficulty. For one reason or another, this has been the topic of several conversations with people lately, not simply in my own life but in theirs, as well.

If we consider the life of Christ Jesus we see two principle ways in which he made himself vulnerable to love: the Incarnation and the Crucifixion.

In taking flesh and being born of the Virgin Mary, the Second Person of the Trinity risked being vulnerable for us. He risked our rejection of his love.

In suffering death for us, the heart of the Savior was pierced, signifying his overflowing love that could not be contained, so fully did he give himself for us.

As we follow after him we, too, are called to make ourselves vulnerable to be loved by him and by others. We, too, must allow our hearts to be wounded so that the love of God may flow out from us to those we meet each day.

To do so requires abandoning ourselves to him, trusting in his love for us. It requires a union with the Cross of Christ and a willingness to suffer with and for him.

Naturally, some days are easier than others. For some, being a rock and an island may be a necessary thing. Now if we can only allow ourselves to be a maleable rock and an island that does not kick off the visitors.

These are just a few thoughts on my mind lately; I hope they may be helpful to a few of you.

I'm back!

I apologize for my unexplained absence over the last few days. Before I disappeared I was busy preparing for the coming days and preparing for my return (always the worst part of going away) and simply forgot to update the blog.

This past Saturday I attended a day-long meeting and returned to the parish in time for the evening Mass.

Sunday afternoon through yesterday afternoon I was away on a Kairos retreat with the senior boys from St. Anthony High School. I am still marvelling at the grace of God as we experienced it on the retreat. Truly a wondrous and powerful few days for which I am deeply grateful.

I returned to Virden yesterday afternoon and met with a priest-friend for dinner at the rectory. He is my former pastor in Quincy and is now my "mentor-pastor" who will advise me and offer suggestions (and critiques) as I learn more and more what being a pastor entails. We had a very enjoyable conversation and I look forward to meeting with him often in the next several months.
Today is mostly an "in office" day, sorting through mail and other papers. Slowly but surely I will get the rectory in order. This evening I will celebrate a memorial Mass for the Knights of Columbus.

The big question now is what to do with my office. The room my predecessor used for his office is really designed to be a sitting room. It makes a great sitting room but not a very good office. At the moment, the house really does not have a comfortable room simply to sit and visit with people or to watch television.

I have a study/library upstairs with a television and two chairs. I am thinking of doing my work in the study and changing the downstairs office into a sitting room. The only downside to this is that my sitting room would be downstairs and my office upstairs. On the flip side, the current study could not be converted into a sitting room without a good deal of work.

I'll figure it out one of these days.

Sorting through the mail today I received the following notice from my cell phone service provider:

We have changed your "Billing" address to reflect the new address that you submitted to the US Postal Service through its change of address process. We're sending this letter to your old address in case the update was done in error.

Who changes their address by mistake?

Very true

One of my former high school students pointed me the other day to the St. Anthony High English Blog.

A recent post offers seven "funny one-liners," my favorite of which is:

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

I am a great lover of tomatoes, but I cannot imagine they would go well in a fruit salad.

Oremus

God our Father,
maker and lover of peace,
to know you is to live,
and to serve you is to reign.

All our faith is in your saving help;
protect us from men of violence
and keep us safe from weapons of hate.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.