Good day

With the Blues (+1 Callis) at the reception.  

Well, thank you so much.

You were all so kind last Sunday and into the week for my twenty-fifth anniversary.  You are much of the fabric of my life and my priesthood, and it was good to have a chance to be together under our beautiful trees, on such a perfect day.  I was delighted but not surprised at how much everybody there seemed to enjoy being together, even if they had not previously known one another or spent time together.  That was not hardly a surprise; in fact, it was just what I would have expected and hoped.

It was very low-key, people coming and going as they could on a busy but beautiful Sunday afternoon.  The array of eats and treats was abundant and really rather elegant; the organizers made sure I got there early and took a plate to enjoy some myself.  It’s hardly a Saint Bernadette function if there aren’t kids playing under (and in) the trees; that condition too was well met.  

Fr. Ben Petty and Fr. Brian Sanderfoot, who like Fr. Novajosky were taking me out to dinner that evening, came mid-afternoon and enjoyed the reception too.  Fr. Knestout, my classmate and friend, arrived right before dinner, and joined by Fr. Nate Anderson, the six of us went for a delightful celebratory evening.  As befits such senior clergy as we now find ourselves to be, we were not out late.  

Monday was of course a work day, but people continued to drop by, and drop off things.  Tuesday, the twenty-third, was the anniversary itself, and after the 6:30 Mass (with some surprise guests from the Basilica sacristy sisters!) I was off to the Saint John Paul II Shrine.  The Archdiocesan Priests’ One-Day Convocation (two speakers arranged for our edification by Cardinal Gregory) was followed by the Jubilarian Mass and Dinner, celebrating all of us marking 50^th, 40^th, and 25^th anniversaries; there were no 60s this year.  Cardinal Gregory himself, as you may have heard, was one of the 50s.  

My classmate Fr. John Dillon (St. Francis of Assisi in Derwood) was the homilist at the Mass, as it is the custom for one of the 25s to do.  A representative from each of the Jubilarian classes offered a talk at the end of the dinner, and I was graciously asked to be the 25er who spoke.  

I began by observing: This particular twenty-five years has meant five presidents, four archbishops, three popes, two translations of the Mass, and one enduring mystery.  It is when you count such things that you begin to realize how much has happened, and how much time a quarter-century actually is.  It all spins by fairly quickly, as demonstrated by the sudden arrival of summertime, heralded by Memorial Day weekend.   If you’re going to be on the road, be careful out there!

In local news, let me also point out that the population of the rectory will shift a little this weekend, as Fr. Santandreu returns from spending recent weeks back home in Buffalo, for his final two months with us; Fr. Novajosky and I look forward to welcoming also Father Gabriel Okafor, a priest of the Diocese of Monterrey (California) who will be in residence for two months as he begins the summer program in Canon Law at CUA.  

Whether you’re with us for the weekend or the summer; whether you’re new around here, or have been with me for the long haul of priesting; you’re awfully good company, and I am grateful.  Thank you, and may God bless you!

Monsignor Smith

That day

It was not where I thought I had left it.  A bright yellow legal-sized folder labeled “May 23” in black marker, I could see it in my mind's eye but not find it in my desk.  It took an hour, but finally, I rooted under and behind some other folders and there it was, about five feet from where I was convinced I had put it.

Originally used to contain all the materials for planning the big weekend, the folder has for the quarter-century since then held all the most important documents from my ordination, including my canonical faculties, and the Official Certificate of Ordination -- just like we give for Baptism, Confirmation, and First Communion.  It also had some keepsakes, like the Catholic Standard issues reporting the event, and a list of all the gifts I received and who gave them.

But what I was looking for was two pages of yellow legal paper with my very neatest handwriting on them: the final copy of the homily I preached before ordination.

That year, Cardinal Hickey took to himself the honor and the labor of leading the four of us candidates for priesthood on our canonically-required, five-day preparatory retreat, which was held at the Washington Retreat House on Harewood Road NE so he could be nearby in case he was needed to run the Archdiocese for a moment.  No, that was not the usual practice for him, and I do not recall if he did it for many or even any other classes.  Fond as I was of Cardinal Hickey, I could not have been more pleased.

He gave all the conferences and met with each of us individually, but while he was celebrant of all the Masses, he assigned each one of us deacons to preach one of them.  The final day fell to me, Ascension Thursday, two days before our Saturday ordination.

Of course, we were all at least partly terrified at the thought of preaching not only to our classmates – always one of the stickiest tasks for a cleric – but also to our Archbishop.  Funny, but I think it is the only time I have ever preached before a Cardinal or Archbishop, my own or anybody else’s.   (Heaven knows I have done plenty of other things to and for them -- but that is another story entirely.)

What motivated my search for the yellow folder was that, even though I had not read it in decades, I thought it would be good to share this homily with you this weekend.  Here it is, Ascension Thursday again, though the Gospel passage does not line up since 1998 was Year C, and now we are in Year A.  Not only that, but the lectionary translation changed in 1999, which makes it even harder to recognize the quotations, but I present it transcribed as it stands, completely unedited and unamended.   If you recall that I was preaching principally to my classmates, you should have little difficulty.

Upon review, it is a completely appropriate reflection for me, too, on this anniversary.   So much is just as I found it, right where I left it, right where I received it.

Monsignor Smith

 

Ascension Thursday Homily, 21 May 1998

It is all about power, isn’t it?  

Washington is a city of power.  If you are into power politics, you can make your power plays at power lunches with other power brokers, all in the name of amassing power and using power to get more power.  

The Ascension is about power.  Each of the three readings today mentions the great power that is to be had.  As Jesus took his leave, He instructed the Apostles to, “Remain here in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.”   

We, too, are waiting for power.  Two days from now we will be ordained into awesome power: power that is sacramental and ontological; power that is pastoral; and power that is social or situational.  It all comes with being a priest.

Tantalizing, isn’t it?  Divine power!  Enough to make any power-player lick his chops. But that cannot be our response.

The Ascension of Christ was not a power vacuum that the Apostles rushed to fill.  The power Jesus promised to them -- and to us – cannot be accumulated or amassed; it cannot be strategized or stockpiled.  It is not ours.

It is the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit will make us, like the Apostles, witnesses of Christ, yes, even to the ends of the earth!

In this power of the Spirit we will decrease, that the presence of Christ may increase – in the sacraments, in the preaching of the Word, and in compassion for His least ones.

It is a gift received to be given.

Christ rose to heaven not so that the Apostles could be in charge, not so that we could be in charge, but so that His reign could be spread.

So we cannot respond like a Washington power broker, with business cards and press releases and updated curricula vitae– but like the Apostles.  In all humility before the awesome power of God, let us

Fall down to do him reverence

be filled with joy

And be found in the Temple constantly

speaking the praises of God!

Laughable

Seriously??
Most certainly NOT.

Let me congratulate all of our First Communicants from last weekend, and say how much I look forward to giving you your third, fourteenth, and eighty-seventh Holy Communion in coming days and months.  Also, I was with many of our catechists from religious ed the other evening, and they were sharing how much delight they take in their students, and how eager they are to give them the truth and beauty of our faith, as well as the freedom it offers.  The second-grade catechists in particular were relieved and pleased after all their efforts that culminated last weekend.  While thanking them all for their good work, let me point out that there is a beautiful fellowship as well as a growth in one’s own faith to be found in instructing our younger parishioners in the liberating content of the Faith.  See Jasmine Kuzner to learn how you can enjoy this experience.

There is an awful lot going on this month, in the parish and around the world.  Some of it keeps me busy or preoccupied, and some of it leads me to reflect quite deeply.  There is so much “up in the air” that I was having trouble deciding where to “come down” for this week’s note.   Then I recalled that while rummaging about in my files this week, I came across one of my letters of which I had no recollection at first.  But upon reading it, I found that it resonated exactly with where I am right now. 

With a big Happy Mother’s Day to all parish moms, especially the ones who insist “the best gift you can give me is for everybody to come with me to Mass,” let me share with you these thoughts from ten years ago:

Brothers and sisters: If only you would put up with a little foolishness from me!

That’s Saint Paul talking, in his Second Letter to the Corinthians, chapter 11.  But when I read it this afternoon, it reminded me of … me.  You know that is unusual; I don’t often identify with Saint Paul, for many reasons.  But admitting a certain foolishness strikes me as something I can share with him.

First of all, I have to admit that the awesome dignity of the Sacred Priesthood, the marvelous solemnity of the Holy Liturgy of the Church, and the tremendous respect offered to me freely and willingly by so many people often hide from us how foolish we all look, and especially me, because of the very foundational elements of our faith.  We believe in, talk to, sing to, and pray to an invisible God.  We profess that his only Son took flesh in the womb of a virgin in a small village two millennia ago, was born, worked many miracles which nobody has any photographs of, then was killed like a criminal.  But then – and get this – we assert that he rose from the dead, went about eating, drinking, and talking, then ascended into heaven!  

Some folks, like the throng that heard Paul preach in the Areopagus of Athens, hear that last bit about “resurrection from the dead” and suddenly remember they have to go sort their sock drawers.  It sounds so…foolish to them.

Unlike ancient Greece, now everybody has heard already all about it; indeed, they have heard the stories a million times.  But to think that there is any truth, any reality to them – well, that just isn’t educated, it isn’t sophisticated, it isn’t modern.   Therefore, in a word, it must be foolish.

Now you all know I am perfectly willing to be taken for a fool according to those criteria.  I cling to the reality of all that has been handed down, undiluted, undiminished, and undiffused.  It is the only thing that can bring life!

As Saint Paul also point out, we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles.  (1 Cor 1:23)  Folly; that’s how they saw it, and that is how many see it now.

Despite how seriously I take this, no, actually, because of how seriously I take this Faith, I am willing and even eager to make certain that I not be taken that seriously.  That is, my own person, myself.  I can be ridiculous on occasion because, well, I am NOT the Son of God, and I know that.  Don’t confuse me with the Good News I bring.  I am dispensable and I know it.  Christ is indispensable!

This gives me great liberty.  I can ally myself with Christ in the face of a public who finds that quaint, gullible, or even foolish.  Simply wearing my priest-clothes in public can elicit pity or disdain.  Proposing Christ’s own prescription for life to modern souls can be met with bemusement, whether that be a happy young couple preparing for marriage, or a successful professional, or, that most skeptical of all audiences, a teenager.  I am willing to accept that, because without Christ, they are in mortal danger.

So you see, it’s not about me.  I can – and will – be a goof.  You know that by now, and if you’re still reading this, you’re okay with that.  And so am I, because I am not the savior of the world, or of you.  But I know who is, I am eager to help you know Him and love Him better!

So, if I strike you as being ridiculous, let me be the last one to try to dissuade you of that opinion.  Rather, I acknowledge and embrace it, but beg you, with Saint Paul again: Please put up with me.  For I am jealous of you with the jealousy of God. (2 Cor 11:1b-2)

Monsignor Smith

Comin' up roses

What, by any other name, would smell as sweet?  A rose, of course; everybody knows that, thanks to pop Shakespeare.   Would that we could all quote more.

But things are smelling sweet around the rectory these days, thanks to some good work by another blossom, or a plumbing company by that fragrant name.  Thank you for the several inquiries of general concern last week; the concern was warranted, but our deliverance was achieved late last Thursday and we were all able to sleep in our own beds that night, and be rested and ready for the weekend’s demands.  It is a learning experience to find out how much of daily life depends of the clear function of that one pipe.  Now all that is behind us.

It is good to have all such systems “go” as we turn the calendar page and suddenly (it’s always sudden, no matter how you plan) it’s May.  There are a thousand things to do this month, both parochial and personal, and because the weather gives us a jolt of energy we entertain the optimism that we will actually be able to do most of them.  I am trying to pace myself.

The first weekend comes on strong with First Holy Communion Mass on Saturday and the May Procession and Crowning on Sunday.  Add to that Friday’s Grandparents’ Day in the school, and it’s a Triduum in its own right.  First Holy Communion is my favorite Mass of the year, and after practicing last Sunday with this year’s kids, I can say that they are ready and eager for the great gift that will both feed them and guide them for the rest of their lives, God willing.  Many of them I have known their whole lives up to this point; I hope decades from now still to get a postcard update or two, once in a while, to hear about, you know, The Rest of the Story.

Many of the girls on Saturday will have real flowers in their hair as they prepare to receive the Lord; it is a good reference for the crown of blossoms we will place on Our Lady’s statue on her May altar.   Speaking of which, let me just say Anthony Dao, our maintenance guy extraordinaire, did not let last week’s plumbing problems distract him from the expectations of Our Lady.  Sometime after the First Communicant retreat Sunday afternoon, but before Adoration began Sunday evening, the Lady Altar appeared so as to be in place when the first morning of May, Mary’s month, dawned Monday.  Please, do not forget to bring flowers for her altar throughout the month!  Bringing them is a great excuse to “make a visit” during the week, and get in some prayers with the younger members of the family.

Speaking of flowers, the HSA plant sale last weekend was a huge hit until it was washed out Sunday afternoon.  That meant there were some leftovers for me to scavenge Monday to add to my first haul from Saturday when the crew gave me my pick of the litter.  So this week I have been potting and placing flowers on the rectory porches, front and back, that make the place a little more livable, even delightful, for the coming six months.  Yes, many of last year’s flowers made it into November.  Looking at those little seedlings every few hours to check for growth is another optimism-booster.

Waiting for the floral payoff can be a longer game, too.  I was pleased to see the knockout roses in front of the school coming into bloom this week.  A year or two ago we planted them where those huge holly trees had been, in hopes of having something a little less towering, a bit more elegant to flank the old entrance.  You know they are yellow roses for a reason?  When Our Lady visited the grotto of Lourdes and spoke to young Bernadette Soubirous, one of the things our young patroness noticed about her was that she had a golden rose on the toe of each shoe. 

So in this month of Our Lady, which I (mostly) affectionately call “Mayhem,” when you see the roses blooming, let the sight and the fragrance inspire you to practice the theme song.  You know how it goes:  Immaculate Mary, your praises we sing…  It is called the Lourdes Hymn, and so it is proper to us, our patroness, and our parish.   How sweet it is!

Monsignor Smith