Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

The advantages of walking in the early morning darkness (disadvantages will be in another post): I get to test out a Christmas gift, a headlamp, and also I have the opportunity to see the sunrise, a welcome sight to each new day.

The headlamp gives just enough light for me not to trip over uneven surfaces and for others to see me, which is good for the Wandering Padre who does not use sidewalks. So I consider it a very good present. Using the lamp yesterday reminded me of a passage from Pope Francis in the encyclical Lumen Fidei:

Faith is not a light which scatters all our darkness, but a lamp which guides our steps in the night and suffices for the journey. To those who suffer, God does not provide arguments which explain everything; rather, his response is that of an accompanying presence, a history of goodness which touches every story of suffering and opens up a ray of light.

My headlamp can be placed on a brighter level, and it brings even more of my surroundings into view, but it does not remove the darkness. Which brings me to the other advantage of walking in the early morning hours, the sunrise. Gradually a light that does dispel the darkness begins to rise. So it is a sign of hope for a new day and new possibilities.

The Easter Vigil that we celebrate in just over a week from now, begins with the lighting of a single candle that leads us in a procession of hope. That light is passed from one person to another and the proclamation is sung: “Light of Christ.” Our response to this is simply, “Thanks be to God.”

So we live in faith; the sun will rise, and yes the darkness will be overcome. This entire Lenten season, and maybe what is going on around us, is built on faith and hope. We know that Easter will come; the Light will break into the world and overcome the darkness. God came to save His people.

These days when we are practicing “social distancing” it is a good time to practice “spiritual closeness,” walking with the Risen Son, who accompanies us even in the darkest of times. We are a people of faith; we hope for that time when we return to “normal.”

In Faith, Hope, and Love, Your Wandering Padre

Father Dave

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