State of the Union

     This evening in Washington, DC, before a Joint Session of Congress and in the presence of the Supreme Court and the leadership of the Administration and with the nation watching, the President will deliver the State of the Union Address, a constitutional responsibility that the leader of the Nation has to the Legislative Branch.  In the address, the President expounds on his observations of the state of the condition of the nation, and with an expression of his hopes for the future.  I must confess that in my old age I have grown skeptical of the political rhetoric and find the dysfunctional Congress and Administration, rooted in party and politics rather than the good of the people, to be distressing.

     The idea of a "State of the Union" is a good one, though.  In fact, in our spiritual journey, we are encourage to take the time to reflect and daily come up with a "State of the Soul" for ourselves  in our examination of conscience (a reflection of the condition of our soul during the day), periodically as we prepare ourselves for the affirming Sacrament of Reconciliation, and yearly in the upcoming Call to Repentance that comes with Ash Wednesday's invitation to repent and believe.

     Our "State of the Soul" is our examination of conscience.  It involves a reflection upon the state of our walk with the Lord.  It affirms the blessings and joy of knowing and celebrating God's love in our lives.  It requires an honest assessment of our failures to live out the Gospel, not to create or wallow in guilt, but to encourage a return to the Lord and a renewal in grace and favor.  It  does not include a justifying of ourselves or a selling of our persona.  Rather, it demands an honest and heartfelt presentation of ourselves as we stand before the Lord, and a willingness to be loved to new life in his mercy.

     Polls and politics will evaluate the President this evening.  We are not evaluated as we present our "State of our Soul", but rather we are accepted and loved, by the only One who matters, Jesus, the Christ.

I have returned

      It has been over a month since I have posted.  Once again, I apologize to my faithful readers, and hope and pray that all are well and that the new year is off to a great start.  I know that it has been a rapid beginning.  The Holy Father, today, has issued his annual message for World Communications Day, and so it is a fitting time to reaffirm my commitment to sharing my thoughts with you.

     In my retirement, I am attempting to "get out" on weekends and attend Mass in one of the local parishes.  Weather permitting, it places me within a larger worshiping community to share their faith and vibrant liturgies.  Last Saturday evening I concelebrated with Father Lawrence Manchas, the pastor, the weekend Mass at Saint Paul Church in Greensburg, one of my frequent destinations for liturgy.  I wanted to attend at Saint Paul, because the following Monday marked a significant moment in my priestly journey.

     It was on January 22nd in 1992, a bitterly cold day, that I departed from All Saints Church and it's mission parish of Saint Francis de Sales after offering Mass and packing the car, and headed for my new assignment in Greensburg.  Sister Mildred, the school principal, had the kids outside for a farewell greeting, a final blessing from me, and then the youngsters lined the street waving good-bye as I pulled out and turned the corner, with tears in my eyes.

     I arrived at Saint Paul Church in Greensburg just after lunch.

 Saint Paul Church was a parish twice the size of All Saints located in the suburbs of the City of Greensburg.  I was arriving as pastor along with a new Parochial Vicar, Father Stephen West.  I pulled up to the house, unpacked, and got my bearings.  The outgoing interim pastor had promised that a dinner would be prepared for my family and priest guests attending the Installation Mass that evening at 7:00.  Upon arriving I found a note announcing no dinner preparations would be underway.  So, my first task was to call the family and tell them to arrive for Mass and manage dinner on their own.   Then to call my priest friends and the neighbors and ask for a raincheck dinner invite.  A few had already committed to being there, and so we made arrangements to take them out (and get back in time for Mass).  All in all, a very tumultuous first hours.  The Mass that evening went well and was very beautiful, and so my first faltering steps gave way to a sound beginning.

     That first day was but an indication of the difficulty that I experienced in the early days of this assignment.   Let me state at this point that there were many parishioners and good people who were there for me at the beginning and throughout this assignment, and that I cherish my eight and a half years there.  But it took me nearly two years to turn the corner and win the trust of the parish family.  The reasons were complicated by history.

     Saint Paul parish had a beloved pastor for many years who the diocese decided to replace.   They removed him as pastor the previous September, and sent an interim pastor, who did little to calm the waters.   For many who loved the former pastor, the way the diocese handled the situation left a bitter taste, and they were angry.  They mistrusted me and questioned my motives in many areas simply because I was sent there by the diocese.  I realized that their anger towards me was really meant for the diocesan offices.  It took a time to earn their trust.  There were some who questioned my motives, some who doubted my sincerity, and even one who accused me of "play acting" at Mass.  And that period of time was difficult.

     I weathered the storm.   The bitter cold and difficulty of that first day and those first months and years gave way to a relationship of love and of trust, of mutual respect and genuine caring that allows me to hold Saint Paul Church (which I had unofficially designated "The Church of Saint Paul") as very dear to my heart.  The friendships that I made there, those from the very beginning and countless others over the years, have remained.  When I return to join them for Mass, they make it very clear that I am an important part of that parish family, and that I am welcome.  That love and welcome takes all of the coldness of that bitter day in January, twenty-six years ago, and makes it one remembrance on my journey, replacing it with a memory and experience of warmth and acceptance as a member and servant of this parish family.  God's grace is truly amazing, and so are his people.