Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

“Archbishop, when does this assignment start?” was the question I asked of Archbishop Levada 15 years ago. “April 1st,” came the reply to which I responded, “How appropriate that my tenure as pastor should begin on April Fools Day.” He concurred.

Sitting in my rectory office on this auspicious occasion I am struck by the fact that the only sounds coming from this vast estate are of the cement saw and jackhammer. The plan had been to repave the parking lot during the summer and try and work around the daily activity of the church. This “Shelter-in-Place” scenario presented another option. Do it now while there is no activity. Yes, let it be a sign of HOPE that eventually people will return, and life will continue. So it is music to my ears.

My musings therefore are easily distracted. This normally happens when power tools are involved, so today I leave you with another’s words, Karl Rahner. I once took a semester reading course on Rahner, so might as well use some of it. These words were inscribed on my ordination holy card, and I look to them often.

The priest is not an angel sent from heaven.

He is a man chosen from among men, a member of the Church, a Christian.

Remaining man and Christian, he begins to speak to you the Word of God.

This word is not his own, no, he comes to you because God has told him to proclaim God’s word.

Perhaps he has not entirely understood it himself. Perhaps he adulterates it.

But he believes, and despite his fears he knows that he must communicate God’s word to you.

For must not some of us say something about God, about eternal life, about the majesty of grace in our sanctified being;

Must not some one of us speak of sin, the judgement and mercy of God?

So my dear friends, pray for him, carry him so that he might be able to sustain others

By bringing to them the mystery of God’s love revealed in Christ Jesus.

I must say that these years have been “the best of times and the worst of times.” (apologies to Charles Dickens)

“Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.” (Lou Gehrig)

WIth quotes from Rahner, Dickens, and Gehrig, there’s not much else to say except:

You are all part of Archbishop Levada’s April Fool’s Day joke.

In Faith, Hope, and Love,

Father Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

There I sat on top of a stone wall in Northern Spain, eating lunch and watching a farmer drive a tractor with a trailer that spread manure. Wonderful topic to begin the last day of March. As the farmer passed by my location I raised my flask (of water) to salute his work, a gesture he seemed to get great enjoyment out of, maybe wondering if this pilgrim had any idea what he was doing. It got me thinking about my priesthood. Fertilizer and priesthood, how can this reflection go wrong?

I am a Diocesan priest versus a Religious Order priest. Religious Order priests like Dominicans, Franciscans, and Jesuits, follow the charisms of their founders. Dominicans are the Order of Preachers; Franciscans are known for their simple way of life, of poverty, and working with those in need, and Jesuits for teaching. If I were to describe Diocesan priests, I would call us farmers.

Often we are assigned to a certain plot of land, the parish. We live and work on this land, and for us life continues 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. One comes to love the land or parish as it literally becomes your life. You celebrate the seasons as does a farmer knowing that at certain times it will be hard work and long hours, but there is an ebb and flow to it. Your main job is to sow the seed of faith indiscriminately, letting it fall on rocky ground, pathways, amidst the thorns, and eventually some on good soil.

If we have done our job, we have grown the faith among our people and reaped a bountiful harvest. The harvest sustains our parish and hopefully we have created an abundant harvest to share with others. We send out members to be teachers, preachers, missionaries, and yes we keep some who will be the next generation of farmer priests.

Hopefully, we learn what type of seed of faith grows better under certain conditions, how we have to cultivate that area of the farm to produce a harvest. We must keep it nourished, providing the water it needs to grow, and yes at times we must spread manure to enrich the soil. We do lose some seed, but that must never stop us from sowing. So I am a farmer priest, and in parts of my life I do better than others. Spreading manure, it’s a gift.

With thanks to Joseph Campbell, I end today’s reflection: If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life you ought to be living is the one you are living.

With Faith, Hope, and Love,

Father Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

It was a brisk winter’s day and I was driving home from the mountains when the call came, “David, this is the Archbishop’s secretary, and he would like to talk to you.” What does one say at such a moment? After all in the ordination rite one promises respect and obedience to his bishop. So I responded, “No, it is never good news when the Archbishop calls you. Tell him I am driving.” There was laughter, and I was put on hold. The next voice was Archbishop Levada, “David, pull over!” His conversation continued, “David, we have fulfilled all your requirements, and so I am now assigning you as pastor of St. Charles Church; you won’t have to move far.”

Some of you might be wondering what stipulations I made. I know, for I was wondering the same thing. So when I asked if he could refresh my memory on those he read from my annual clergy update form: “You wanted a garage for your tools, a gymnasium, and a school.” Truthfully, I did not know anyone actually read those annual forms.

This week marks the 15th anniversary of being made pastor, and so I thought to do a little walk down memory lane. It might keep me from reflecting too much on the happenings around me. In almost 39 years of priesthood I have had four (4) assignments. Our Lady of Loretto for 3½ years, St. Vincent/CYO for 14 years, Our Lady of Mount Carmel for 5 years, and now St. Charles for 15 years. There have been other responsibilities that have been added, such as Serra High School and now St. Matthias, but I pretty much stay in one place for some time.

I have noticed one stark change over these 15 years. When I first arrived at St. Charles there were between 1100-1200 people coming to Sunday mass. Last weekend the church was empty. Not many pastors can say during their time they chased all the parishioners away. I now can say this for 2 churches, as in the 9 months that St. Matthias has been part of my responsibility, I have emptied it too. So it is good to be known for something.

There is a prayer by Michael Quoist, The Priest, a Prayer on Sunday Night. It is a dark and somber prayer, but one that hits the nail on the head about priesthood. It is the latter part of the prayer that sticks with me. It is our Heavenly Father speaking to his priest:

Son, you are not alone, I am with you; I am you.

For I need another human instrument to continue my Incarnation and my Redemption.

Out of all eternity, I chose you, I need you.

I need your hands to continue to bless,

I need your lips to continue to speak,

I need your body to continue to suffer,

I need your heart to continue to love,

I need you to continue to save.

Stay with me, son.

Let my answer always be: Here I am, Lord.

Father Dave