Fr. Winthrop Brainerd, in his ceremonial regalia
as he might prepare to attend the funeral of the queen.
Father Brainerd was here 2004 - 2008.
This past Friday evening marked our first night on the field for what I call Munchkinball. Pre-K through 2nd grade soccer is only part, albeit the central part, of what happens out there, and it was a perfect night for all of it. In addition to the Opening Prayer and the Flag Raising, the other essential ceremonial element of the first night is the Bestowal of Uniforms, and this year CYO presented uniform shirts to me and Fathers Novajosky and Santandreu as well the kids and coaches. They were more appreciative of the correct spelling of their names than I was of mine, for some reason. But it was clear that having their names on their shirts was the true goal, as many folks apparently still confuse them one with another.
Though I confess to having once or twice called them, with all affection, the Canonical Twins, it has never been difficult for me to distinguish my two housemates one from another. Now that I have lived with them for a year it would be difficult for me to confuse them. Often, I can distinguish their footfalls on the staircase, and guess which of them is entering or leaving by the front door. More times than not, I can even tell which of them is in the kitchen without being able to see into the kitchen. So perhaps my advice to you is to rely less on your eyes when you try to discern which of them you have before you.
One thing that they do have in common is that they are both in the same classes. This is the first time I have lived with two students who come home each day discussing the same program, professors, and lectures. It makes for a fruitful overflow of their learning from which I benefit directly, though I think it’s just a bad joke that by the end of their two years here I will qualify for a License in Canon Law by osmosis, or proximity. Clearly I would still need to write at thesis.
It is not unusual for me to learn a lot from the priests who live in the rectory with me. One recent high point was the period when Fathers Joe McCabe and Clint McDonell were here. With the former’s experience as a missionary in Tanzania and the Russian far east, and his ten years in the Vatican, mixed with the latter’s observations of a polymath philosopher, conversation around the table was never dull or low on content. All the better then that it was often also hilarious.
The events surrounding the death of Queen Elizabeth II have reminded me of another former denizen of the Holy House of Soubirous, though it was longer ago and fewer of you remember him. Father Winthrop Brainerd, with his doctorates from both Oxford and Cambridge, had to renounce his Dukedom to become a US Citizen, and was a cleric of the Church of England before entering the Catholic Communion and taking Holy Orders here in Washington. He sang as a chorister – a boy treble – at Elizabeth’s coronation. When the Queen visited Washington on a state visit at some time in the 1990’s, one of the local people after whom she officially ‘inquired’ was Fr. Brainerd. I am pretty sure he received a Christmas card from her every year.
The coming week will bring her state funeral, which many reporters observed is the first in Britain of such status since that of Winston Churchill in 1965. Fr. Brainerd often spoke of his role in planning and executing the ceremonies for that historic function, and his skills and knowledge from it were among the many gifts he tried to impart to me over the long years of our friendship. I am grateful for what I received and retained. While I am not certain I will get a chance to watch any, much less all, of the Queen’s funeral, if I do, it will be with the sharp eye for ceremonies of one trained by one of the Queen’s very best.
I always learn something from the priests who live here with me, and it is my hope that you do, too. If you still need help telling them apart, and you can’t see the back where the names are written, Fr. Santandreu’s jersey is dark blue, whereas Fr Novajosky’s is cadmium yellow. Mine is yellow too, but recognizing me does not seem to be so difficult. See you on the field!
Monsignor Smith
