May God Reward Archbishop Dolan

Archbishop Dolan is apparently getting fed up with media bias hatred toward the Catholic Church. Here is what he said recently regarding the New York Times and their anti-Catholicism:

I know, I should drop it. “You just have to get used to it,” so many of you have counselled me. “It’s been that way forever, and it’s so ingrained they don’t even know they’re doing it. So, let it go.”

I’m talking about the common, casual way The New York Times offends Catholic sensitivity, something they would never think of doing — rightly so — to the Jewish, Black, Islamic, or gay communities.

Two simple yet telling examples from one edition, last Friday, October 15.

First there’s the insulting photograph of the nun on page C20, this for yet another tiresome production making fun of Catholic consecrated women. This “gleeful” tale is described as “fresh and funny” in the caption beneath the quarter-page photo (not an advertisement). Granted, prurient curiosity about the lives of Catholic sisters has been part of the nativist, “know-nothing” agenda since mobs burned the Ursuline convent in Boston in the 1840’s, and since the huckster Rebecca Reed’s Awful Disclosures made the rounds in the 19th century. But still now cheap laughs at the expense of a bigoted view of the most noble women around?

Maybe I’m especially sensitive since I just came from the excellent exhibit on the contributions of Catholic nuns now out on Ellis Island. These are the women who tended to the homeless immigrants and refugees, who died nursing the abandoned in the cholera epidemic, who ran hospitals and universities decades before women did so in the non-Catholic sphere, who marched in Selma and today teach our poorest in our inner-city schools. These are the nuns mocked and held-up for snickering in our city’s newspaper.

Now turn to C29. This glowingly reviewed not-to-be missed “art” exhibit comes to us from Harvard, and is a display of posters from ACT UP. Remember them? They invaded of St. Patrick’s Cathedral to disrupt prayer, trampled on the Holy Eucharist, insulted Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger when he was here for a conference, and yelled four letter words while exposing themselves to families and children leaving Mass at the Cathedral. The man they most detested was Cardinal John O’Connor, who, by the way, spent many evenings caring quietly for AIDS patients, and, when everyone else ran from them, opened units for them at the Terence Cardinal Cooke Health Care Center and St. Clare’s Hospital. Too bad for him. One of the posters in this “must see” exhibit is of Cardinal
O’Connor, in the form of a condom, referred to as a “scumbag,” the “art” there in full view in the photograph above the gushing review in our city’s daily.

Thanks for your patience with me. I guess I’m still new enough here in New York City that the insults of The New York Times against the Church still bother me. I know I should get over it. As we say in Missouri, it’s like “spitting into a tornado.”

No One Who Prays is Ever Alone

Fr. Patrick Peyton

Once in awhile I log on to Archbishop Dolan's blog to see what he has to day, and today I found the following gem. It's worth the read.

Ah, it’s true: those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer –thank you, Nat King Cole –are coming into the station. Soon, all we’ll have are memories.

One stands out for me. I was on the Jersey Shore, at the Villa Saint Joseph, in company with priests. At supper I had quietly admired one of them, now retired, and listened as he joined in swapping stories about past assignments and colorful incidents from priestly life. It was clear to me that this particular priest had worked hard for over fifty-five years –poor parishes, teaching, caring for the sick. He was an example of a senior priest who had “been in the trenches” and served Jesus and His Church faithfully.

Later that evening I sat alone up on the second-floor porch and enjoyed the sea-breeze. I also smiled as I watched the married couples and families walk along the boardwalk, and had to admit to myself that it sure would be nice to have a wife, kids, or grandkids here with me. Not that I was regretting my priestly celibacy, mind you, because I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I guess I was just imagining “what-if …”

And then I saw the old priest below me on the front porch. He, too, was all alone. He, too, was looking at the couples and families walking-by. And I felt sorry for him. This priest, who had given it his all as a generous, committed priest, there all-by-himself in a rocker on the front porch.

Down I went. Yet, as I approached, I saw his lips moving, as if he were in conversation with a friend; his eyes were closed, although he was not asleep, because the rocker was moving; he hardly looked lonely at all, because there was a smile there …

Then I saw the rosary in his hand, and the breviary (the book of daily readings and prayers, mostly from the Bible, which we priests promise to pray daily) open on his lap … and I realized he was enjoying the best company of all.

I went back upstairs and finished my cigar.

And recalled what Pope Benedict XVI had observed earlier in the summer when he had begun his own vacation, “No one who prays is ever alone.”

The Most Reverend Paul J. Swain's Chrism Mass Homily

Well, now that Easter Day has passed (althought liturgically it continues to live on through the octave), I have a little time to post some excerpts from an excellent homily given by Bishop Paul Swain of the Diocese of Sioux Falls, SD on the occasion of the Chrism Mass. My favorite parts are in bold.

Thank you for coming tonight. The Chrism Mass is a celebration of who we are as church. We are the local church of Sioux Falls, over 35,000 square miles, more than 125,000 Catholics, 150 parishes, 23 schools, with one Cathedral, the mother church, currently being preserved, restored and beautified as a beacon of hope for generations to come...

In a few minutes the priests gathered around the bishop will renew their ordination promises, as priests will do throughout the universal church in the days before Easter. Then the sacred oils of chrism, of catechumens and of the sick will be consecrated or blessed. They will then be dispersed throughout the diocese to be used for baptisms, confirmations, ordinations and the sacrament of the sick, a sign that we are one family with many homes. Chrism Mass focuses on the priesthood, as our readings relate. Yet we do so not in a way that suggests other vocations are lesser ones, only different and distinct. We celebrate married life, single life, religious life and the diaconate. We are one family, one body as St. Paul described the church. We need all of its parts to function in unity with one another if we are to continue the mission and ministry of Christ until he comes again.

Yet tonight we do honor priests and pray for an increase in their number. Without priests, there would be no Holy Eucharist. We especially want to acknowledge those priests who will be celebrating significant ordination anniversaries this year....Thank you for your combined 295 years of priestly service. You are inspirations to us. We also with grateful hearts remember those ordained who have died since our last Chrism Mass....

This Chrism Mass is especially meaningful as we celebrate the Year for Priests. When Pope Benedict XVI declared this special year he identified its purpose as “to encourage priests in … striving for spiritual perfection on which, above all, the effectiveness of their ministry depends.” In the context of the secularism of our day, the culture of death, the sinfulness and scandal that has infiltrated the Church, the lack of civility in public and personal affairs, and the uncertainty of the future, I believe that the need for good and holy priests is especially urgent in our day. A new evangelization is desperately needed. It is our sacred mission. The salvation of souls is at stake. Ours is a high calling and a difficult one. With this task before us, the difference between a priest filled with the Spirit and a dispirited priest is apparent to all.

Archbishop Timothy Dolan recounted this story: A priest in his home diocese of St. Louis in 1962 had the privilege of an audience with Pope John XXIII. There were about ten other priests present and he was last in line to greet the pontiff. Each of the priests before him introduced himself to the Pope, told him what he did as a priest, and then knelt to kiss the Pope’s ring. “I am a university president,” the first one reported. “Holy Father, I am chancellor of my diocese,” said the next. And so on. As Pope John came to the priest from St. Louis, the priest felt rather low, because he thought his priestly work was hardly as exalted as those nine before him. In almost a whisper, he said, “Holy Father, all I am is a parish priest.” Pope John genuflected before him, kissed his hands, and said, “That’s the greatest priestly work of all.” Indeed it is. How precious are the souls that are placed in our care. How fragile are we as we seek to serve them with humility and hope. But it is not on our shoulders alone. We are instruments of Christ, not miracle workers. Pope Benedict XVI told priests on his visit to Poland: “The faithful expect only one thing from priests: that they be specialists in promoting the encounter between man and God. The priest is not asked to be an expert in economics, construction, or politics. He is expected to be an expert in the spiritual life.” We cannot be so to others unless we are spiritually grounded ourselves. And we must accept the fact that are not called to be everything to everyone, though the unrealistic expectations of some on what we priests ought to do and how to do it is wearing. We are called to use the gifts we have to be men of the Holy Eucharist, men of and in Christ. Without spiritual grounding we cannot live up to such a high calling. There is a Trinity of spiritual nourishment that can help us toward spiritual perfection. They are prayer, study and sacrament. That means daily prayer that is more than routine and obligatory, spiritual reading and continuing theological reflection that informs and inspires, and regular reception of the sacraments ourselves while praying and administering them well for others not for ourselves. Without these three, which all come down to relating our lives totally to Christ, we can lose our spiritual strength and motivation.

We can be encouraged by those who went before, the known saints, and those unknown to others who have touched and shaped our lives. They faced tough challenges and persevered in faith. Today is the 30th anniversary of the death of Archbishop Oscar Romero, killed while celebrating Holy Mass in El Salvador. His life and martyrdom reminds us of our call to seek justice especially for the poor and vulnerable and to respect life in its fullest sense, at conception, at natural death, and all the years inbetween. Pope Benedict has asked us to reflect on St. John Vianney, patron of all priests. He does not expect us to become like this saint who was truly unique, but to rediscover in his priesthood the core of what priesthood ought to be about for us. I have placed here on the altar a relic of the inspirational St. John Vianney which was in the possession of one on our own inspirational priests, Msgr. John McEneaney.

St. John was sent to evangelize a remote village where faith was lacking. Benedictine Abbot Martin Marty, who became the first bishop of Sioux Falls, came from Europe to the Dakota Territory to Evangelize those here who did not know of Christ’s love and mercy. Others followed to our own day. You know their names. The need for such personal and sacrificial evangelization is as great if not greater today. What motivated and sustained them? Perhaps we ought to study and model those priests of the prairie in whose legacy we live.

The story is told of a worldly lawyer from Paris who went to Ars to see for himself this priest who was called a living saint. He came back to Paris and began attending Mass, going to confession and living the faith. He was asked “what did that priest say to you that convinced you to begin practicing the faith again.” The attorney replied, “Well, I really could not even understand him. He was not a good speaker and his accent was thick. It was not what he said that changed me. It was what I saw. What I saw was God in a man.” My brother priests, who do others see in us?

And we can be inspired by the Blessed Mother. Tonight is the Vigil of the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel came to the young Mary and told her God has called her to a special vocation, to be the Mother of God, and ultimately the mother of us all. She pondered as do we all, yet she responded with the humility to which we all are called, “I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me as you say,” as God wills. That in essence is what we will recommit to in our priestly promises of service.

A retreat master told the story of a priest in the early 1900s who was a circuit rider going on horseback from village to village to celebrate the sacraments, not unlike the early days of our diocese. After celebrating Holy Mass a lady said to him, “Father, have you heard about old man Jones. They say he is dying.” Immediately the priest was lead on horseback many miles to a dilapidated one-room cabin. Inside on a cot was an old, black man with hands calloused from hard work, now emaciated from cancer. He likely had been a slave or a child of slaves. When he saw the priest he exclaimed, “Father, I knew you would come.” The priest heard his confession, gave him Holy Communion, the sacrament of Extreme Unction as it was in those days. He said he heard the dark rasp of death from the man, so he knelt down by the bed, held the man’s hand and prayed the rosary. Suddenly the weak, cancer-ridden man sat up and pointed behind the priest and shouted: “I see the Blessed Mother and she’s smiling at you and me.” The priest turned toward where the man was looking but only saw the darkness. He turned back; the old man was dead. The priest recalled, “I stayed there, kneeling on the floor in darkness and I held that old man’s hands until they grew cold. And I cried, and I thanked God that I was a priest.”

I thank God that I am a priest. We thank God for you the priests of and in the Diocese of Sioux Falls, present and past. I am humbled and proud to be your bishop. May others see in each of us, God in a man.

Get Thee to Sunday Mass

Apparently it is a tradition for the Archbishop of New York to write a letter to his flock on St. Patrick's day. This year Archbishop Timothy Dolan wrote to his people on the topic of Sunday Mass. At one particular point he addresses those who are already going to Mass every Sunday. He encourages them to evangelize their friends on this topic by saying

How about giving this message to someone who no longer does, especially if he or
she has stopped going to Sunday Mass? Get ready for the excuses:

– “Sunday is our only free time together.” (Great, what better way to spend that time than by praying together at Mass).

– “I pray my own way.” (Nice idea. But, odds are, you don’t).

– “The sermon is boring.” (You may have a point).

– “I hate all the changes at Mass.” (see below)

– “I want more changes at Mass.” (see above)

– “Until the church makes some changes in its teaching, I’m staying away.” (But, don’t we go to Mass to ask God to change us, not to tell God how we want Him and His Church to change to suit us?)

– “Everybody there is a hypocrite and always judging me.” (Who’s judging whom here?)

. . . and the list goes on.

And the simple fact remains: the Eucharist is the most beautiful, powerful prayer that we have. To miss it is to miss Jesus — His Word, His people, His presence, His Body and Blood.

Amen! It's high time we share things like this with our friends and family who don't observe the Day of the Lord, so get to it.