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| For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night. (Psalm 90:4) |
Slipping by in the middle of this past week was Veterans’ Day, a holiday disguised as a workday, a day little noticed and less understood in the ramp-up to the period blithely and blandly called The Holidays. A commemoration of all who have served our nation in her military forces, whether in wartime or peace, whether at the cost of their very lives or merely of a few years of their personal whims and wardrobe, the day carries an imperative for us who daily benefit from that service.
The date originates with the coming into effect of the Armistice that ended the War to End All Wars, though it accomplished that not even in part. Today the radio played Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto, which he composed after that war as a lament for his lost friends, family, and countrymen. Since something like a quarter of the men of his generation were consumed in that mud-caked conflagration, and the culture and possibly even the civilization in which he came of age were left eyeless and limbless on the city sidewalk, the great groaning of grief with which the cello opens the work is no exaggeration. Who can lay blame for naming this catastrophic war after the hope and false promise that all that had been spent in its pursuit had accomplished a lasting peace?
Nonetheless the great price was paid, and it is those who did so and have done so over all the years of our history as a nation whose gift we acknowledge and accept each Veterans’ Day. That’s the spirit, anyway. Once their service is fulfilled, they walk among us and rarely draw much attention. This makes it both more difficult and more important to acknowledge what they have done.
Blink once and you miss him, Saint Martin of Tours also slipped by in the middle of the week. In days past and cultures Catholic his feast was kept with greater solemnity than we Americans every did, providing an occasion for frivolity and fun toward the end of autumn and the harvest. In every way an exemplary Catholic in the very earliest days of the Faith in Europe, Saint Martin was a veteran too. He was a soldier of the Roman Empire and an astoundingly charitable one at that. Into his very last days on earth, he was in combat with the devil.
Also slipping by in the middle of this past week was our Archdiocesan Priests Convocation, for which Father Swink and I joined the brethren and the Boss at a resort on the Eastern Shore for fraternity and professional development or suchlike. Fr. Wiktor stepped in to deliver on Mass in our absence, except for the one when he had a class. We got lucky there and found another canon law student, Fr. Isaiah Schick. All that helped our absence slip by unnoticed.
Usually coming every other year, this time only one year has passed since our last convocation. Back during the Diseased Days, we skipped one year to go three years between meetings, breaking our rhythm. It remains to be seen whether the every-other-year pattern will resume now that we are back in the old track, or whether this will become an annual event. Fr. Swink and I have already noticed we are a little less excited about it since it’s only been a year since we were last together. Don’t take that as cynical; it is simply in the nature of diocesan clergy.
You never know about these convocations. Like many such things, there is always a double track: what it is supposed to accomplish and what actually comes from it. One of the disadvantages of how insular the life of parish priests is how easy it can be to forget our common mission and common joys. One of the advantages of our insular existence is how hard it is to remind one another of common discontents and disagreements. With only twelve months elapsed since our last confab, which trend will emerge?
Nonetheless, a little time for reflection is helpful for us, regardless of how much or how little the speaker have to offer that interest us, a chance to listen is welcome for us who so often are called upon to speak. It may even sharpen our senses and raise our spirits to charge into The Holidays, with the help of God. We will not allow the opportunity to slip by unappreciated.
Monsignor Smith
