I don’t recall right now who it was – probably Fr. DeRosa – but someone recently described a great painting of Jesus’ Way of the Cross. It has all of the characters we recognize from the Passion reading – His Mother Mary, Pilate, the soldiers, the women of Jerusalem, John the Beloved Disciple, Simon of Cyrene -- along the great course of His way of sorrow, which winds through a Jerusalem painted in extensive detail. But Jerusalem is populated by the artists’ contemporaries as well, who are doing things that 17th century Dutch villagers would have done, wearing 17th century Dutch clothing. None are paying the least bit of attention to the drama unfolding in their midst.
As we accompany Jesus through His Passion this week, it is hard not to realize that in addition to all the physical abuse that was heaped upon Him on His way to death on the Cross, He was humiliated. Synonyms I found for humiliated were: broken, crushed, humbled, low, and embarrassed. I think that conveys a lot of the sense of it. Very little human dignity was left to Him who was, in fact, God, and who did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. (Phil 2:6b-7)
As well as the active humiliation from those who spat or shouted at Him, was the passive humiliation of those who took no notice. Of course, everyone has work to do; everyone has a life, a job, a family, and obligations, and can’t be expected to drop everything. We cringe to realize that this, however, is the Son of God, being executed on false charges. This is The Immortal One being crucified to death, not for His guilt, but for the guilt of any and everyone who has sinned.
Last Sunday afternoon, we held our parish Lenten penance service. Fr Derosa invited eight priests to join the three of us who live here to make available to you the mercy and forgiveness that Jesus purchased with His own life’s blood. We started at five and folded the tent a little after six.
No one came. Well, there were maybe fifteen folks when we started, and I can’t tell for sure since I was in the confessional, but I know we didn’t get to fifty people, and under forty is very likely. I thought of all these priests who gave up their Sunday afternoon to help me bring God’s mercy to my parishioners, and I was humiliated.
My brother priests didn’t say anything, of course. One did observe it was an awfully nice day. No one seemed even remotely irritated. It was awkward, though, and sad, for all of us.
Too frequently, I am humiliated because of my own rashness, selfishness, or foolishness. I don’t like that, and I didn’t like this, either. There was solace in that this humiliation came to me because I was standing by Christ.
This Palm Sunday, at first we wave our palms and shout Hosanna!; then, we cry “Crucify Him!” with the crowd that stood before Jesus and Pilate. Let us not take this role-playing too much to heart, and reenact the day that the Son of God died for love of us – and most people did not even notice.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Gather in -- by scattering
Last week it was more challenging than most to come to Mass. Not only had we lost an hour in the night, but also many of you were carrying groceries to church – adding to already full hands, in many cases. I was deeply moved by this show of care and generosity for our brothers and sisters in need. It made for quite a pile there in the front of the church by Monday morning!
So let me thank you on behalf of those whom you are serving for your response to their need. Saint Bernadette offered 303 bags of food; 185 collected in the church, 118 collected in the school. That breaks down to 1644 canned goods, 784 boxed goods, and 135 containers of juice. That’s a goodly portion of Lenten giving.
Seeing you all give reminded me of a sermon by Saint Peter Chrysologus, one of the Church Fathers, bishop of Ravenna (Italy) in the early fifth century. I read it every year in the Divine Office during the third week of Lent, and am always struck by its candor and directness.
There are three things, my brethren, by which faith stands firm, devotion remains constant, and virtue endures. They are prayer, fasting and mercy. Prayer knocks at the door, fasting obtains, mercy receives. Prayer, mercy and fasting: these three are one, and they give life to each other.
Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others you open God’s ear to yourself.
Fasting bears no fruit unless it is watered by mercy. Fasting dries up when mercy dries up. Mercy is to fasting as rain is to earth. However much you may cultivate your heart, clear the soil of your nature, root out vices, sow virtues, if you do not release the springs of mercy, your fasting will bear no fruit.
When you fast, if your mercy is thin your harvest will be thin; when you fast, what you pour out in mercy overflows into your barn. Therefore, do not lose by saving, but gather in by scattering. Give to the poor, and you give to yourself. You will not be allowed to keep what you have refused to give to others.
These are powerful words that remind us that our Lenten practices are no empty ritual or cultural artifact, but a spiritual practice of vital importance to our health and survival. So much more than just giving up chocolate or television is the importance of giving. Our Archdiocesan church provided us with an organized way for our giving to have a real impact, thanks be to God. And Saint Bernadette gives – thank you.
Monsignor Smith
So let me thank you on behalf of those whom you are serving for your response to their need. Saint Bernadette offered 303 bags of food; 185 collected in the church, 118 collected in the school. That breaks down to 1644 canned goods, 784 boxed goods, and 135 containers of juice. That’s a goodly portion of Lenten giving.
Seeing you all give reminded me of a sermon by Saint Peter Chrysologus, one of the Church Fathers, bishop of Ravenna (Italy) in the early fifth century. I read it every year in the Divine Office during the third week of Lent, and am always struck by its candor and directness.
There are three things, my brethren, by which faith stands firm, devotion remains constant, and virtue endures. They are prayer, fasting and mercy. Prayer knocks at the door, fasting obtains, mercy receives. Prayer, mercy and fasting: these three are one, and they give life to each other.
Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others you open God’s ear to yourself.
Fasting bears no fruit unless it is watered by mercy. Fasting dries up when mercy dries up. Mercy is to fasting as rain is to earth. However much you may cultivate your heart, clear the soil of your nature, root out vices, sow virtues, if you do not release the springs of mercy, your fasting will bear no fruit.
When you fast, if your mercy is thin your harvest will be thin; when you fast, what you pour out in mercy overflows into your barn. Therefore, do not lose by saving, but gather in by scattering. Give to the poor, and you give to yourself. You will not be allowed to keep what you have refused to give to others.
These are powerful words that remind us that our Lenten practices are no empty ritual or cultural artifact, but a spiritual practice of vital importance to our health and survival. So much more than just giving up chocolate or television is the importance of giving. Our Archdiocesan church provided us with an organized way for our giving to have a real impact, thanks be to God. And Saint Bernadette gives – thank you.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Hope Springs Up
This past Monday morning, Fr. DeRosa came back from his post at the doors of the school and reported that the kids were full of energy and enthusiasm at the beginning of their day. That is not the normal state of affairs for a Monday morning, I assure you. That afternoon, I was at the back steps, as usual, as they spilled out toward their homes and play and families. Once again, the energy level was very high. How can this be?
There is hope in the air, and we name it Spring. We are still shy of the beginning of solar spring, but almost two weeks into what they call “meteorological spring,” and suddenly everything looks a little better. The kids sure know it. I sure feel it. Even Fr DeRosa is in a better mood – as if that could have been possible.
Even as the birds return and the moist mornings promise growth, the piles of snow ringing our parking lot diminish, but not yet disappear. They make a suitable reminder to me to thank all of you who contributed last week to the second collection to help with snow removal. We received just under $10,000, an encouraging help toward our total expenditure this winter of over $51,000.
A number of you gave, some even earlier than that, noting our need, and responding in generosity and stewardship. Thank you all so much! Be assured that if you have not yet had the chance or the wherewithal to help with this unusual parish expense, we will happily receive your participatory gift whenever you are ready and able.
Monday evening we were privileged to have Bishop Leonard Olivier here to bring our young people the Sacrament of Confirmation, and seal them with the Holy Spirit just as life is beginning to get really complicated for them. Wisdom and fortitude in abundance is what He gives them, and strength for the fight. May they use the light of the Holy Spirit to know what to fight for, and what to fight against!
You and I need to dip into that Spirited gift of strength for the fight as well, to fight against sin in our lives and around us. This weekend marks the halfway point of Lent. If you have not already done so, Get Thee to the Confessional!
While we may be fairly sure that we are Not THAT Bad, our sins grow and gain ground unless we are actively engaged in pushing them back, which we can do only with the grace of God and His mercy. A strong man heavily armed is safe in his possessions, says the Lord, but only until someone stronger comes along. Taking our weaknesses to the Sacrament of Penance is the way we make sure that our ally and defender against the Tempter, who is often stronger than we are, is the strongest One there is, the Son of God.
In the second half of Lent, we make this strength available even moreso than up to now, until finally in the last weeks of Lent it will be difficult to find a time when we are NOT hearing confessions. Every church in the Washington area (DC – MD – VA) will be offering Confession all Wednesday evenings from 6:30 – 8:00; and our penance service is a week from now, Sunday afternoon, 21 March, starting at 5:00. All of our NINE confessors will be available until at least 6:00, so if you can’t make it for the beginning, you can still make it.
There is hope in the air, and His name is Christ, the Mercy of God.
Monsignor Smith
There is hope in the air, and we name it Spring. We are still shy of the beginning of solar spring, but almost two weeks into what they call “meteorological spring,” and suddenly everything looks a little better. The kids sure know it. I sure feel it. Even Fr DeRosa is in a better mood – as if that could have been possible.
Even as the birds return and the moist mornings promise growth, the piles of snow ringing our parking lot diminish, but not yet disappear. They make a suitable reminder to me to thank all of you who contributed last week to the second collection to help with snow removal. We received just under $10,000, an encouraging help toward our total expenditure this winter of over $51,000.
A number of you gave, some even earlier than that, noting our need, and responding in generosity and stewardship. Thank you all so much! Be assured that if you have not yet had the chance or the wherewithal to help with this unusual parish expense, we will happily receive your participatory gift whenever you are ready and able.
Monday evening we were privileged to have Bishop Leonard Olivier here to bring our young people the Sacrament of Confirmation, and seal them with the Holy Spirit just as life is beginning to get really complicated for them. Wisdom and fortitude in abundance is what He gives them, and strength for the fight. May they use the light of the Holy Spirit to know what to fight for, and what to fight against!
You and I need to dip into that Spirited gift of strength for the fight as well, to fight against sin in our lives and around us. This weekend marks the halfway point of Lent. If you have not already done so, Get Thee to the Confessional!
While we may be fairly sure that we are Not THAT Bad, our sins grow and gain ground unless we are actively engaged in pushing them back, which we can do only with the grace of God and His mercy. A strong man heavily armed is safe in his possessions, says the Lord, but only until someone stronger comes along. Taking our weaknesses to the Sacrament of Penance is the way we make sure that our ally and defender against the Tempter, who is often stronger than we are, is the strongest One there is, the Son of God.
In the second half of Lent, we make this strength available even moreso than up to now, until finally in the last weeks of Lent it will be difficult to find a time when we are NOT hearing confessions. Every church in the Washington area (DC – MD – VA) will be offering Confession all Wednesday evenings from 6:30 – 8:00; and our penance service is a week from now, Sunday afternoon, 21 March, starting at 5:00. All of our NINE confessors will be available until at least 6:00, so if you can’t make it for the beginning, you can still make it.
There is hope in the air, and His name is Christ, the Mercy of God.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, March 07, 2010
The Sacred is Real
Last weekend, many of you would have noticed I had a friend visiting. Msgr. David Brockman, of the Diocese of Raleigh (yes, that includes the North Carolina beaches), was studying in Rome when I was working there for Cardinal Baum, and he was also a member of the priestly support group organized by Fr. Toups. (See how this all fits together?) Now he is Vicar General of his diocese – second in command, if you will – and rarely gets to escape, so it was very good to have him here for a few days.
On Sunday, after Mass and Fr Toups’ talk to Forums of Faith (where WAS everybody?), we all went downtown and spent the afternoon at the museum. In particular, we wanted to see an exhibition that opened that day at the National Gallery of Art.
The Sacred Made Real: Spanish Painting and Sculpture, 1600 – 1700 only fills three rooms, but wow! Masterpieces of great painters such as Velázquez and Zurbarán, which are quite well known and often reproduced, are paired with contemporary sculptures of the same subjects, whose sculptors tend not to be so well known.
And what, or who, are the subjects? Our Lord in His Passion, and on the Cross; His mother Mary, and the saints and martyrs. It is an astonishing presentation of the human reality of our salvation and faith. For example, there are several renderings of Saint Francis of Assisi, who is the most influential religious figure in history, after Jesus Himself. His awe and tender intimacy in prayer are compellingly conveyed, making you want to see what he sees.
A statue of Saint Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, presents vividly his wiry intensity, the tears on his cheeks glistening with love of Jesus. Nearby, a statue of Saint Francis Borgia manifests something of the character that made him a suitable successor to Ignatius as Father General.
There are a bust and a full statue of Jesus as the Man of Sorrows, known as “Ecce homo” or “Behold the man,” which is what Pilate said as he presented Him after His scourging and crowning with thorns. These are powerful presentations of the person of Jesus, up close and personal, his posture and expression even more compelling than the wounds and abuses depicted in His flesh.
My favorite, and far sweeter, was a painting by Diego Velázquez I had seen reproduced any number of times, but never in person. Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception has such a calm and attentive expression on her young face, it is hard not to rejoice that she is so eager to bring us to her Son. The similar statue right next to the painting was enough to move me to art theft – just the right size for our Lady Chapel! That is probably not what she would recommend.
I have every intention of going back again, probably closer to Holy Week, to spend more time in conversation with these people. Don’t wait until you have out-of-town guests to visit this exhibit. It is an astonishing reminder of the truth and beauty of our faith, and the salvation that we rejoice in with the saints, through the Son of God who not only visited us, but also took flesh and dwells among us and in us to this day.
Monsignor Smith
On Sunday, after Mass and Fr Toups’ talk to Forums of Faith (where WAS everybody?), we all went downtown and spent the afternoon at the museum. In particular, we wanted to see an exhibition that opened that day at the National Gallery of Art.
The Sacred Made Real: Spanish Painting and Sculpture, 1600 – 1700 only fills three rooms, but wow! Masterpieces of great painters such as Velázquez and Zurbarán, which are quite well known and often reproduced, are paired with contemporary sculptures of the same subjects, whose sculptors tend not to be so well known.
And what, or who, are the subjects? Our Lord in His Passion, and on the Cross; His mother Mary, and the saints and martyrs. It is an astonishing presentation of the human reality of our salvation and faith. For example, there are several renderings of Saint Francis of Assisi, who is the most influential religious figure in history, after Jesus Himself. His awe and tender intimacy in prayer are compellingly conveyed, making you want to see what he sees.
A statue of Saint Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, presents vividly his wiry intensity, the tears on his cheeks glistening with love of Jesus. Nearby, a statue of Saint Francis Borgia manifests something of the character that made him a suitable successor to Ignatius as Father General.
There are a bust and a full statue of Jesus as the Man of Sorrows, known as “Ecce homo” or “Behold the man,” which is what Pilate said as he presented Him after His scourging and crowning with thorns. These are powerful presentations of the person of Jesus, up close and personal, his posture and expression even more compelling than the wounds and abuses depicted in His flesh.
My favorite, and far sweeter, was a painting by Diego Velázquez I had seen reproduced any number of times, but never in person. Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception has such a calm and attentive expression on her young face, it is hard not to rejoice that she is so eager to bring us to her Son. The similar statue right next to the painting was enough to move me to art theft – just the right size for our Lady Chapel! That is probably not what she would recommend.
I have every intention of going back again, probably closer to Holy Week, to spend more time in conversation with these people. Don’t wait until you have out-of-town guests to visit this exhibit. It is an astonishing reminder of the truth and beauty of our faith, and the salvation that we rejoice in with the saints, through the Son of God who not only visited us, but also took flesh and dwells among us and in us to this day.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Lenten Teamwork
You’ve heard of the “The Lost Weekend?” Well, think bigger – the Lost Week and a Half, perhaps. All that weather we had early this month means that we dig out to daylight only to find that suddenly it’s late February, and more shocking, Lent.
Besides having to reschedule everything that we were supposed to have accomplished during those snowbound days, we also find ourselves having to reorder our days into Lent Mode. What Are You Giving Up, and all that. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, --- who, me?
I can’t be the only one who does not yet have a clear resolution of my Lenten plan even as the ashes settle on my forehead. You all know well my annual admonitions to identify our “”comfort zones,” and step away from them; this year, I want to accentuate a different angle.
For years, I have declined to declare my Lenten intentions to curious parties, on the perhaps cynical grounds that such information only sets me up for failure, either because I make myself vulnerable to taunting and tempting, or because it would be so obvious when I drop the Lenten ball. I usually encourage others to keep their resolutions private as well, to increase their chance of bearing fruit. Call it the “Go to your room and pray to your Father in secret” approach.
Not to abandon that, I would humbly suggest something else, as well. Of the prayer, fasting, and almsgiving triad, this would be Prayer. But instead of going off to your room alone to pray to your Father, get together with someone, or several someones.
Make a prayer commitment with your family, your team, that other Catholic in the office, or even the neighbor. It doesn’t have to be long – five minutes a day? – or overwhelming -- Mass together one day during the week? It should have a focus: maybe one prayer of thanksgiving and one of petition from each member of the family (one “please” and one “thank you”) and a fixed time (Before bed? Before dinner? Lunch break?). And it should last forty days.
Maybe it will be the start of something beautiful and you’ll keep going longer, but don’t worry about that now. In fact, don’t worry if you didn’t start on Ash Wednesday. This weekend we celebrate the First Sunday of Lent, followed by what is officially called the First Week of Lent. So you still have time to start at the beginning, even if you weren’t ready during the first four days of Lent.
But that’s my recommendation to you this year: get together and pray. Getting together will help you remember to pray, and praying will help you remember to get together. You will find that having someone else involved will bring not only additional motivation to follow through on your resolution, but it will bring a richness to your prayer that would not be possible on your own. Even, and perhaps especially, the simple “please” and “thank you” prayers of a child can touch us profoundly, and shape our own prayer.
I guess that is the good news of the day, after all. Even without being able to blame it on the snow days, no matter how far behind we are in our relationship with God, no time is lost, nothing is lost, we are not lost, precisely because we have Lent.
Monsignor Smith
Besides having to reschedule everything that we were supposed to have accomplished during those snowbound days, we also find ourselves having to reorder our days into Lent Mode. What Are You Giving Up, and all that. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, --- who, me?
I can’t be the only one who does not yet have a clear resolution of my Lenten plan even as the ashes settle on my forehead. You all know well my annual admonitions to identify our “”comfort zones,” and step away from them; this year, I want to accentuate a different angle.
For years, I have declined to declare my Lenten intentions to curious parties, on the perhaps cynical grounds that such information only sets me up for failure, either because I make myself vulnerable to taunting and tempting, or because it would be so obvious when I drop the Lenten ball. I usually encourage others to keep their resolutions private as well, to increase their chance of bearing fruit. Call it the “Go to your room and pray to your Father in secret” approach.
Not to abandon that, I would humbly suggest something else, as well. Of the prayer, fasting, and almsgiving triad, this would be Prayer. But instead of going off to your room alone to pray to your Father, get together with someone, or several someones.
Make a prayer commitment with your family, your team, that other Catholic in the office, or even the neighbor. It doesn’t have to be long – five minutes a day? – or overwhelming -- Mass together one day during the week? It should have a focus: maybe one prayer of thanksgiving and one of petition from each member of the family (one “please” and one “thank you”) and a fixed time (Before bed? Before dinner? Lunch break?). And it should last forty days.
Maybe it will be the start of something beautiful and you’ll keep going longer, but don’t worry about that now. In fact, don’t worry if you didn’t start on Ash Wednesday. This weekend we celebrate the First Sunday of Lent, followed by what is officially called the First Week of Lent. So you still have time to start at the beginning, even if you weren’t ready during the first four days of Lent.
But that’s my recommendation to you this year: get together and pray. Getting together will help you remember to pray, and praying will help you remember to get together. You will find that having someone else involved will bring not only additional motivation to follow through on your resolution, but it will bring a richness to your prayer that would not be possible on your own. Even, and perhaps especially, the simple “please” and “thank you” prayers of a child can touch us profoundly, and shape our own prayer.
I guess that is the good news of the day, after all. Even without being able to blame it on the snow days, no matter how far behind we are in our relationship with God, no time is lost, nothing is lost, we are not lost, precisely because we have Lent.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, February 14, 2010
How much is too much?
What can I say? That was entirely too much. Too much snow, too much weather, too much everything. The capital of the free world was shut down like a one-horse town at sundown. Twice.
Everyone figured that we should be shut down, too. We, Saint Bernadette Church, that is. But, well – no. That’s not the way it works. Oh, sure, we closed the school, and the rectory staff did not come in. But the church was open, up and running, so to speak, the whole time.
There for a while (about 20 hours) we lost power last weekend. That meant not only that we had dinner by candlelight, as did plenty of you, but on Saturday evening we had Mass by candlelight as well. It began just as that blizzard was ending, and a small number of intrepid souls walked up for Mass. One of whom, upon leaving, commented, “That was beautiful. I wanted to take out my phone and call people, and tell them to come up here!”
The crowds steadily grew (and the power came back on) on Sunday morning. Every Mass had servers and lectors. The eleven o’clock even had music! Everyone was in a great mood.
Even during the second blizzard this week, in the dark cold windy wee hours of the morning, we offered our weekday Masses on time and on schedule. Not so many folks came, but God was praised, and the intentions which had been requested for those Masses were prayed for, as promised.
This is why we exist, you know. We, diocesan priests, that is. We exist to be here, to provide you with the Holy Sacraments, when and where you need them. We live next to the church, so that we are able to do what we’re supposed to do for you, in your church, no matter what happens. Religious orders have particular charisms and missions and specialties and projects. We parish priests direct our lives toward, well, parishes. And that’s you.
So I hope you know that you can count on us to make it our first priority to provide you the Sacraments you need. If you can make it to the church, we’ll have Mass, ready and waiting.
Some people called during the snow and asked if we were having Mass, and when I said Absolutely, they asked whether the archbishop had said whether they have to go or not. I wonder how many folks think that they have to go to Mass because someone said so? Our obligation to attend Mass is more like our obligation to call our mother on her birthday, kiss our spouses when we come home after an absence, or watch when our children tell us, Hey, look what I can do! We do it because it is at the core of who we are, and it sustains the relationships that sustain us and give us our identity in the world.
If we cannot safely do any of these things because of dangerous conditions, or if we are too sick, or if we are caring for someone who cannot be left alone, then, of course we aren’t shirking our obligations. But we’ll miss them. The same with Jesus, at Mass. Because He’ll be here, for us. It’s that simple. And what He asks is never too much.
Monsignor Smith
Everyone figured that we should be shut down, too. We, Saint Bernadette Church, that is. But, well – no. That’s not the way it works. Oh, sure, we closed the school, and the rectory staff did not come in. But the church was open, up and running, so to speak, the whole time.
There for a while (about 20 hours) we lost power last weekend. That meant not only that we had dinner by candlelight, as did plenty of you, but on Saturday evening we had Mass by candlelight as well. It began just as that blizzard was ending, and a small number of intrepid souls walked up for Mass. One of whom, upon leaving, commented, “That was beautiful. I wanted to take out my phone and call people, and tell them to come up here!”
The crowds steadily grew (and the power came back on) on Sunday morning. Every Mass had servers and lectors. The eleven o’clock even had music! Everyone was in a great mood.
Even during the second blizzard this week, in the dark cold windy wee hours of the morning, we offered our weekday Masses on time and on schedule. Not so many folks came, but God was praised, and the intentions which had been requested for those Masses were prayed for, as promised.
This is why we exist, you know. We, diocesan priests, that is. We exist to be here, to provide you with the Holy Sacraments, when and where you need them. We live next to the church, so that we are able to do what we’re supposed to do for you, in your church, no matter what happens. Religious orders have particular charisms and missions and specialties and projects. We parish priests direct our lives toward, well, parishes. And that’s you.
So I hope you know that you can count on us to make it our first priority to provide you the Sacraments you need. If you can make it to the church, we’ll have Mass, ready and waiting.
Some people called during the snow and asked if we were having Mass, and when I said Absolutely, they asked whether the archbishop had said whether they have to go or not. I wonder how many folks think that they have to go to Mass because someone said so? Our obligation to attend Mass is more like our obligation to call our mother on her birthday, kiss our spouses when we come home after an absence, or watch when our children tell us, Hey, look what I can do! We do it because it is at the core of who we are, and it sustains the relationships that sustain us and give us our identity in the world.
If we cannot safely do any of these things because of dangerous conditions, or if we are too sick, or if we are caring for someone who cannot be left alone, then, of course we aren’t shirking our obligations. But we’ll miss them. The same with Jesus, at Mass. Because He’ll be here, for us. It’s that simple. And what He asks is never too much.
Monsignor Smith
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Sales & Management
Father Brainerd taught me many great one-liners. One of the best, which I use most often, is “I’m in sales, not management.”
You see, it so happens that people often give feedback to priests about the weather. Usually, it is to complain – “Couldn’t you have done something about this rain?” Or, “I wouldn’t have expected it to get this cold with you here.” Every now and then, it’s more of a compliment – “Ah, now I see why this is such a beautiful evening.” Both are, somehow, flattering. Neither, however, has any basis in reality.
Father Brainerd’s way of deflecting this was to point out, “I’m in sales, not management.” Nope, we priests don’t get a whole lot of input on the weather. We can pray, with you and for you, but command decisions of that sort are left to “upstairs,” “the big guy,” “the Boss.” Oh, heaven knows we have our opinions about such matters, but ….how often that affects the course of things, you can decide.
And if the progress of this winter is any indication, you will not have any trouble deciding. Snow is a particularly unwelcome weather option for me since becoming Pastor. During my one winter administering Saint Mary’s in Chinatown, we had a Sunday morning snowstorm, and I had to shovel the approaches to the church myself. That was hard, but it was invigorating – and free.
Now all I can think of is how much it costs. And on a weekend, it is even worse! This past mid-week snowfall pointed out to me what a grump I have become on the whole subject. It was, by any measure, a beautiful snow. It was wet and sticky enough to cling to the trees and make everything sparkle. It hushed the roar of the evening rush hour, without jamming it up completely. (Have you noticed, that after just two previous snowstorms, Washingtonians are already becoming more sensible about driving in the snow?)
Even I couldn’t help but admire it. I shrugged my shoulders, and realized, there’s not a thing I can do about it; I may as well appreciate it. The day after – the day the school was closed – made for a very quiet and productive day in the rectory. That’s always a good thing! Maybe management DOES know what it is doing, after all.
As to my being in sales, al I can say is, I am not good enough for my “product.” In fact, if I really did have to sell for a living, I would doubtless fall short. I know that having a supplier (of grace and salvation) who can and does often exceed even the wildest promises and predictions can sometimes make even me look good, just because I am associated with the organization.
So we look forward to another weekend of weather mayhem. If you are reading this in church on the weekend, either you are most intrepid, or there’s been a minor miracle, and no, I can’t take any credit. But I am at peace with that. Because while I may have periodic quibbles with the weather, I thank God he called me to sales, and keeps management for Himself.
Monsignor Smith
You see, it so happens that people often give feedback to priests about the weather. Usually, it is to complain – “Couldn’t you have done something about this rain?” Or, “I wouldn’t have expected it to get this cold with you here.” Every now and then, it’s more of a compliment – “Ah, now I see why this is such a beautiful evening.” Both are, somehow, flattering. Neither, however, has any basis in reality.
Father Brainerd’s way of deflecting this was to point out, “I’m in sales, not management.” Nope, we priests don’t get a whole lot of input on the weather. We can pray, with you and for you, but command decisions of that sort are left to “upstairs,” “the big guy,” “the Boss.” Oh, heaven knows we have our opinions about such matters, but ….how often that affects the course of things, you can decide.
And if the progress of this winter is any indication, you will not have any trouble deciding. Snow is a particularly unwelcome weather option for me since becoming Pastor. During my one winter administering Saint Mary’s in Chinatown, we had a Sunday morning snowstorm, and I had to shovel the approaches to the church myself. That was hard, but it was invigorating – and free.
Now all I can think of is how much it costs. And on a weekend, it is even worse! This past mid-week snowfall pointed out to me what a grump I have become on the whole subject. It was, by any measure, a beautiful snow. It was wet and sticky enough to cling to the trees and make everything sparkle. It hushed the roar of the evening rush hour, without jamming it up completely. (Have you noticed, that after just two previous snowstorms, Washingtonians are already becoming more sensible about driving in the snow?)
Even I couldn’t help but admire it. I shrugged my shoulders, and realized, there’s not a thing I can do about it; I may as well appreciate it. The day after – the day the school was closed – made for a very quiet and productive day in the rectory. That’s always a good thing! Maybe management DOES know what it is doing, after all.
As to my being in sales, al I can say is, I am not good enough for my “product.” In fact, if I really did have to sell for a living, I would doubtless fall short. I know that having a supplier (of grace and salvation) who can and does often exceed even the wildest promises and predictions can sometimes make even me look good, just because I am associated with the organization.
So we look forward to another weekend of weather mayhem. If you are reading this in church on the weekend, either you are most intrepid, or there’s been a minor miracle, and no, I can’t take any credit. But I am at peace with that. Because while I may have periodic quibbles with the weather, I thank God he called me to sales, and keeps management for Himself.
Monsignor Smith
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