You may have noticed in
recent weeks that during the intercessions at Mass, among the sick we have
prayed for Bishop David Foley. Unless
you have been associated with the parish for a long time, you might not know
that Bishop Foley was the second pastor of Saint Bernadette, succeeding in 1975
the founding pastor, Monsignor Stricker, and serving here until 1983. Many people here remember him quite fondly. He is responsible for the pipe organ, the
maple trees, kindergarten in the school, and the continued spiritual and
liturgical health of the parish in a time when that was uncommon.
Not many years after
he left Saint Bernadette, he was ordained Bishop to serve as Auxiliary in
Richmond. In 1994, he became Bishop of
Birmingham in Alabama, which is where I grew up, and where my parents lived
until recently. In that context I have
been privileged to come to know him well.
The unusual symmetry delighted us both, that he went from Saint
Bernadette to Birmingham, and I went from Birmingham to Saint Bernadette.
Since his retirement in
2005, he has remained there and kept up quite the schedule, filling his weeks
by helping out the thin-stretched clergy of northern Alabama, covering parishes
and Masses while the pastor was sick, or traveling. In retirement he often had
more Masses, in more places, than he did while an “active” bishop! When I went to Alabama for my nephew’s
confirmation two years ago, Bishop Foley was the one who confirmed him.
Bishop Foley turned 88
last month, and he was maintaining that schedule until the symptoms began that
are detailed in the statement from the diocese: Bishop Foley Statement. His first goal, he told a friend, was to stay
able long enough to celebrate one more big confirmation at a parish this past
weekend; he did it. Now he hopes to
participate in the Chrism Mass. Plus,
since he has to sit so much anyway, he figures he may as well sit in the
confessional! My goal, perhaps less
dramatic, is to be able to let him know that the parish of Saint Bernadette is
praying for him.
It seems clear from
the published diagnosis where this is leading for him. Also clear, from what he has said privately
and shared publicly, that he is not frightened or even disappointed by this
prognosis. As Saint Paul would put it, He knows Him in whom he has believed. (2 Tim 1:12)
Today we rejoice for
something so enormous, so wholly other
from our common experience and our human expectation that we have trouble
grasping it as real. We might like the
resurrection as an idea; we might find it comforting as a concept. We might even be able to accept it as
history: Jesus rose from the dead. All
of that is good enough – as a start. From
that start, we can continue all the way up to the point where we are aware and
confident that Christ is risen from the
dead – and so are we.
This is what make the Resurrection
of the Lord different from say, Washington’s crossing the Delaware, or another
historical event. Easter Sunday, every
Sunday in fact, is far more than a commemoration of something that happened
once. Easter Sunday is the event itself,
here, now, and in our lives, in this time.
Which brings me back
to Bishop Foley. He is not frightened nor
sad; neither should we be. He has had a
long and good life, you may point out; although
that is true, it is not the cause of his joy. His life has been blessed principally not by
length nor by achievement, but by the experience of oneness with God and the foretaste
of unending wholeness. That is, he has
already touched and tasted heaven.
What’s more, he has
shared that touch, and brought that taste, to untold thousands of souls. He has seen with his own eyes the
resurrection work joy into lives haunted by death. He knows the persistence and the power of Him
who did not create death, nor desires the death of any living thing; and rather
desires our wellness, not our woe. He knows Him in whom he has believed,
and has made Him known to us.
Every autumn, the
bishops of the United States hold their meeting near here, for the last decade
or so in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. Every
time Bishop Foley has come for that meeting, he has visited Saint
Bernadette. You might not have seen him;
usually even I didn’t see him. But a few
years ago, when I returned to the rectory about suppertime from my day-off
activity, there was a rental car parked out front and a single light in the
church. I went in, and there he was, up
by the Blessed Sacrament, praying. He
could find his way through the church in the dark; he knew where the light
switches were. He was at home.
This parish, this
church holds a place in his heart. He
associates it with intimacy with Christ, with pastoring, the heart of his
priesthood. He has lived that priesthood
to the abundant benefit of this parish and all of us here now, even you who do
not remember him. He has been a true
pastor to my parents and family, and a friend and an example to me. I owe him a debt of gratitude; so do we
all. The time for repayment has come, so
as a parish, let pray for him.
Our prayer should be
doused not in sadness, but in exhilaration and anticipation. For he is one of many who have taught here
well; we too know Him in whom we have
believed. And we know that He is the
resurrection, and the life.
Christ is risen from
the dead, and Bishop David Foley, the second pastor of Saint Bernadette, is about
to join him. He understands this so clearly,
knows it so thoroughly, believes it so powerfully, that he can already rejoice
in it. And still, even from several
hundred miles away, and decades after he moved on from here, he is helping us
rejoice too. Praise God! Death has no power over us; Christ is risen. Truly he is risen, Alleluia!
Monsignor Smith
