Homily for the Anniversary of the Dedication of the Church

Dedication of St. Augustine Church

Dear brothers and sisters,

Just as parents celebrate the births of their children each year, so Mother Church celebrates the dedications her churches. The prayers and readings we hear today are different from those of the thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time because it was on this day that, one hundred and thirty-nine years ago, this church was dedicated to the glory of God and the honor of Saint Augustine of Hippo by the Most Reverend Peter Joseph Baltes, the second Bishop of Alton. Today is, we might say, the birthday of this church, the day on which “salvation has come to this house” (Luke 19:9).

St. Augustine Church, Ashland, Illinois
Dedication on November 14, 1882

As we celebrate this joyous anniversary of this charming little church, we cannot help but think of those who have gone before us in faith, those who, with such generous devotion, gave so much to make this dwelling place of God what it is. Nor can we forget those who have sustained and improved this sacred edifice since its dedication. We remember them with gratitude and we ask God, “who keep[s his] covenant of mercy with [his] servants who are faithful to [him] with their whole heart[s],” to pour out his loving forgiveness upon them and welcome them into his “festal gathering” (I Kings 8:23; Hebrews 12:22).

At the same time, we also remember the countless prayers offered here, lifted up to God in trust. How many people have here implored with Solomon, “…may you heed the prayer which I, your servant, offer in this place” (I Kings 8:29)? How many tears have been shed here, and how many shouts of praise have been uttered here? How many sacraments have been received here and how many souls have here been strengthened and fortified with the grace of God? We will never know, this side of heaven, yet this ignorance does not stop us from raising up joyful cries to God who has made this home his dwelling.

When he dedicated a church sometime between the years 391 and 395, our heavenly patron, Saint Augustine, said,

…just as this building has been made for us to gather in physically, so that building which we ourselves are is being constructed for God to live in spiritually. “For the temple of God,” says the apostle, “which is what you are, is holy” (I Corinthians 3:17).[1]

If you and I are still in the process of being built into the temple of God, when will we be dedicated? Saint Augustine’s answer is that we will be dedicated “when the Lord comes at the end of the age.”[2] This holy house, then, stands in testimony of the advent of God – both at Christmas and on the Last Day – and it stands as a summons to us to prepare ourselves to meet him when he comes.

On this penultimate Sunday of the liturgical year, Mother Church is urging us to prepare ourselves for the day when Christ Jesus says to us, “…today I must stay at your house” (Luke 19:5). If we wish for salvation to come to us on that day, we must be holy; we must be faithful to him with our whole hearts if we wish to enter his festal gathering. How do we become so prepared?

Before this church building was dedicated, laborers first had to cut down trees and quarry rocks. Trees had to be planed into beams and rocks hewn into shape. Everything had to be fitted together just right, having excesses taken away bit by bit. So it must be with us if we are to be fitted into the eternal dwelling of God.

While we are being built, you see, our lowliness is sighing up to him; but when we are dedicated, our glory will sing to him, because constructing a building means hard labor, while dedicating it means joy. As long as stones are being hewn from the mountains and logs from the forests, while they are being shaped and chiseled and fitted together, there is a lot of hard work and worry. But when the dedication of the completed building is celebrated, there is rejoicing and carefree satisfaction to replace the worries and the hard work. In the same way too, while people are being switched from a life of unbelief to faith, while whatever in them is twisted and not good is being pruned and cut, while tight fitting, peaceful and mutually respectful joints are being made, how many trials and temptations there are to be feared, how many tribulations to be endured!

But when the day comes for the dedication of the eternal house, when we are told, “Come, blessed by my Father, receive the kingdom which has been prepared for you from the beginning of the world” (Matthew 25:34), what exultant joy that will be, what carefree satisfaction! Glory will sing, and weakness will not be pierced. When the one who loves us and handed himself over for our sakes shows himself to us; and the one, who was manifested to humanity as what he was made in his mother, is manifested to them as God their maker which he was in the Father; when that eternal habitation himself enters his home now complete and furnished, established in unity, decked out with immortality; then he will fill all things, he will shine out in them all, “so that God may be everything for everyone” (I Corinthians 15:28).[3]

How do we, though, like those mountains and forests, become chiseled stones and cut beams to be fitted into the dwelling of God?

We can do so by following the example of Zacchaeus. “The Lord, who had already welcomed Zacchaeus in his heart, was now ready to be welcomed by [Zacchaeus] in his house… Grace is poured out, and faith starts working through love.”[4] May we, too, fully welcome Jesus into the homes of our hearts; may we respond to his grace with love. May we be so totally dedicated to him that salvation will come to us and we may be welcomed into the festal gathering of the angels and saints. Amen.

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[1] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Sermon 337, 2.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid., Sermon 174.5.

Homily - 10 June 2018 - The Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

The Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

Dear brothers and sisters,

Just a few moments ago, we prayed to God asking for the grace to “discern what is right, and by your guidance do it.”[1] This honest prayer seems to take its inspiration from the words of Saint Paul when he says, “although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (II Corinthians 4:16). What does it mean for the outer self to be wasting away?

The first answer – and perhaps the most literal – is that each of us is journeying toward death, toward that unknown hour when we will be called from this life to stand before the judgment seat of God. Our inner self is being renewed by God’s grace and mercy even as our outer self is wasting away so we might be well disposed to see the Lord face to Face. It is for this reason that Saint Augustine teaches us that

The renewal of humankind, begun in the sacred bath of baptism, proceeds gradually and is accomplished more quickly in some individuals and more slowly in others. But many are in progress toward the new life if we consider the matter carefully and without prejudice.[2]

In this assessment of the renewal of humanity, Saint Augustine, of course, is right.

Some of us discern the Lord’s will without difficultly, but willingly refuse to follow it. Others of us discern the Lord’s will without difficulty, and grudgingly follow it. Still others of us discern the Lord’s will without difficulty and gladly embrace it. Others, yet, discern the Lord’s will only with great difficulty and follow it with greater difficulty still. Why is this the case? The answer may be concealed within the passage we heard from the Book of Genesis.

When our first parents realized they were naked, they hid themselves when God called out to them (cf. Genesis 3:10). Saint Augustine calls this decision to hide from God “a wretched error, as if a naked man, as God had made him, could be displeasing to him. It is a distinguishing mark of error that whatever anyone finds personally displeasing he imagines is displeasing to God as well.”[3] There is, however, something much more profound behind this decision to hide from God than a simple shame of the physical body.

Before [Adam] was naked of any dissimulation [i.e., concealing under a false pretense] and clothed with the divine light. From this light he turned away and turned toward himself. This is the meaning of his having eaten from that tree. He saw his nakedness, and it was displeasing to himself because he did not have anything of his own.

This turning away from the light of God’s Face and turning toward ourselves is indeed the greatest of human errors, and one in which our contemporary society excels. The more we attempt to grab what we do not have and to hide from the light of God, the less able we are to discern his will and do it. And the less we follow his will for us, the less happy we will be. This is a simple fact of life.

The great saints have shown us time and again, down through the centuries, the way to happiness. Rather than growing despondent because they had nothing of their own, they chose not to hide from God but instead to bask in his light. They were able to discern the Lord’s tender love for them precisely when they realized they were naked in the sense that they had nothing of their own; everything we have, they knew, is a gift from God. They accepted as a blessing what others saw as a limitation; they turned outward from themselves and toward the Lord to discern his will and they followed it in love.

Over the past number of weeks, several of you have, at different times and in different situations, asked what my vision for this parish is. If you think back to my first Sunday among you as your Pastor, you might remember me speaking these words:

When a new pastor arrives in a parish, many of the parishioners wonder what program he will enact. The only program, if you will, which I hope to enact is to help you prepare to see the face of Christ more clearly, to help you draw near to him and bask in the light of his face, a light which can transform us and make us like himself. I hope to help you seek the Lord not in curiosity, but in love, to not only hear his voice speaking in the quiet of our hearts, but to see his face and become witnesses of his majesty and to take your places within the Father’s house.[4]

This remains my goal, my vision, for this parish and I have every confidence it can be attained because “we have a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven” that is waiting for us, if we remain faithful to Christ (II Corinthians 5:1). Indeed, the purpose of a parish is to help each of us discern the Lord’s will and do it, so as to enter into the eternal life promised to the faithful in the waters of Baptism. In these waters, we are bound together to help each other turn, not toward ourselves, but toward the Lord, to let the Lord’s light shine upon us.

When Bishop Paprocki formally installed me as your Pastor ten days after I spoke those words to you, he reminded us all that priests “need the help and cooperation of all parishioners. To be able to put into practice the mission of Jesus,” he said, “we need to be part of a team supporting each other.”[5] We have to be on the same team to help each other discern the Lord’s will for us and do it, both as individuals and as a parish.

To this end, I have asked the members of the Pastoral Council and the Finance Council to visit with each adult member of the parish for what might be called one-to-one conversations. The purpose of these conversations is simple: to build a relationship between individuals and the parish, to discover interests, to provide clarity, and to obtain information. In other words, the goal with these conversations is to find out – if I might put it a bit crassly – what you like about the parish, what can be improved, what you would like to see the parish doing, and how you might like to help the parish. While you are not required to participate in these conversations (some of you might now be thinking, “He is out of his mind” [Mark 3:21]), I certainly hope you will welcome the opportunity to visit with a fellow parishioner, to share your dreams for this parish, and to help us discern the Lord’s will for us.

Our goal is to visit with each adult parishioner, both active and inactive, for about thirty minutes. Last week, the council members each received a list of five parishioners to try to visit with over the course of the next six weeks. Once this first round is completed, they will gather together again with me to share a sense of what they heard. They will then go out to the other active parishioners and, once every active parishioner has been heard, they will try to visit our inactive parishioners. All of this is a way we can help each other progress toward the new life of Christ Jesus, to turn away from ourselves and towards him. Let us, then, help each other discern the Lord’s will and do it, so that, as his brothers and sisters who have done his will, we might together behold the loveliness of his Face in the Father’s house (cf. Mark 3:35; John 14:2-3). Amen.

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[1] Collect for the Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Roman Missal.

[2] Saint Augustine of Hippo, The Way of Life of the Catholic Church, 1.35.80.

[3] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Two Books on Genesis Against the Manichaeans, 2.16.24.

[4] Reverend Daren J. Zehnle, Homily for theFeast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, 6 August 2017.

[5] Most Reverend Thomas John Paprocki, Homily, 16 August 2017.

Homily for the Titular Solemnity of the Parish - On Saint Augustine of Hippo

The Solemnity of Saint Augustine of Hippo

Dear brothers and sisters,

In his monumental history of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, Joseph J. Thompson recorded something curious about the origins of this parish:

During the first year of [the original church’s existence], it was attended as a mission from Petersburg by Reverend Augustine Sauer. Doubtless, it was that good Father who gave it the name of his patron which it still proudly bears.[1]

With our American sensibilities favoring independence and personal autonomy, we do not speak much about patrons today because doing so would be to acknowledge that we are not as strong as we think we are. The word patron comes from the Latin patronus and refers to a protector, a defender, or an advocate. In her maternal care for us, Mother Church assigns a heavenly patron to each parish so that we will have someone in heaven to look after us, to pray for us, and someone to whom we can look to learn how to better follow Jesus Christ.

So it is, then, that we have come together today around the altar of the Lord to celebrate the life of our heavenly patron, Saint Augustine of Hippo, a Bishop and Doctor of the Church, and to seek his continued intercession on our behalf.

Saint Augustine was in the North African city of Thagaste, in modern day Algeria in 354 to Patricius, a pagan who converted to Christianity, and Monica, a Christian of tremendous faith. His father installed within him a great love of Latin and of its literature. Because of his studies in the great literary masters, when Augustine read a poor Latin translation of the Bible, he thought Christianity to be beneath him, something only for the uneducated, and so he turned to the dualistic faith of the Manicheans. They believed the spiritual, immaterial world was good and the temporal, physical world was evil. As Augustine continued to learn from them, questions continually arose within his mind, but none could answer his questions. He realized then that Manicheism did have the truth and so he abandoned it; he knew his heart was restless.[2]

Even when he initially rejected his mother’s Christian faith as being too unintellectual, Augustine “was always fascinated by the figure of Jesus Christ; indeed, he said he had always loved Jesus but had drifter further and further away from ecclesial faith and practice, as also happens to many young people today.”[3] Augustine’s departure from Christianity was a source of great pain for his mother, Monica, who never ceased praying for the conversion of her son because she saw him living in grave sin for many years. Augustine settled in with a concubine for more than fifteen years, with whom he conceived a son, Adeodatus. Here, again, Augustine is not unlike many people today; he knew his heart was restless.

As he wrestled with his quest for the truth and sought the answers to his questions, he came to realize that he was “in love with love,” as he put it.[4] He went on to say, “To me it was sweet to love and to be loved, the more so if I could also enjoy the body of the beloved.”[5] He knew the way in which he was living was wrong, that it was not in keeping with the truth, but he enjoyed his life. So it was that he prayed to God, saying:

“Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” I was afraid you might hear my prayer quickly, and that you might too rapidly heal me of the disease of lust which I preferred to satisfy rather than suppress. I had gone along ‘evil ways’ (Exodus 2:10) with a sacrilegious superstition, not indeed because I felt sure of its truth but because I preferred it to the alternatives, which I did not investigate in a devout spirit but opposed in an attitude of hostility.[6]

Here, again, he like a great many people today; he knew his heart was restless.

One day while he was reflected on his life and his many sins, Augustine “heard a voice from a nearby house chanting as if it might be a boy or a girl (I do not know which), saying and repeating over and over again ‘Pick up and read, pick up and read’.” [7] He picked up a copy of the Bible and opened it, seemingly at random, and read these words from Saint Paul: “Not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts” (Romans 13:13-14). With that, his worries departed and he “neither wished nor needed to read further. At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All the shadows of doubt were dispelled.”[8] He would never be the same again because, as he said, “it cannot be that the son of these tears should perish.”[9]

With his heart finally at rest, he converted to Christianity on 15 August 386 and was baptized on 24 April 387. Somewhat against his will, at the instigation of those who recognized his holiness, his intellect, and his zeal, he was ordained a priest in 391 and bishop of Hippo – modern day Annaba, Algeria - in 395. He died on 28 August 430 as the Vandals were besieging the city of Hippo for a third month. There is, of course, much more to say about his life, but this brief sketch will suffice for now. After his baptism, he devoted himself to the study of the Scriptures and realized the Lord’s will for him was that he should share the fruit of his studies with the people of Hippo.

When considered the fruit of the studies of the Doctor of Grace, Pope Benedict XVI once said,

“When I read Saint Augustine’s writings, I do not get the impression that he is a man who died more or less 1,600 years ago; I feel his is like a man of today: a friend, a contemporary who speaks to me, who speaks to us with his fresh and timely faith.”[10]

The same is true for us who are blessed to have so a great an intercessor before the throne of God.

The statue of Saint Augustine outside of the church depicts our patron as holding out his heart to us, a heart with a flame coming out from within it. It is a symbol referring to these famous words of Saint Augustine: “You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.”[11] However, this flaming heart might also refer to something he said about the passage we heard from Saint John’s first letter: “Our love, like a fire, must take hold of what is nearest and then spread to what is further off.”[12]

As Saint Augustine holds his heart out to us and shares his journey with and in Christ with us, let us hold our hearts out to Jesus. Let us ask him to set our hearts afire with his love that we, with Saint Augustine, might be fully converted to the Lord. Then, let us hold our hearts out to others and take the risk of love. May Saint Augustine intercede for us, that the fire of our love will shine brightly, drawing others toward the peace that comes only from Christ. May our love, like that of Saint Augustine, take hold of what is nearest and spread to is further off, so we might attain our rest in Christ. Amen.

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[1] Joseph J. Thompson, Diocese of Springfield in Illinois: Diamond Jubilee History (Springfield, Illinois: Hartman Printing Co., 1923), 418.

[2] Cf. Saint Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, I.1. Henry Chadwick, trans. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 3.

[3] Pope Benedict XVI, General Audience Address, 9 January 2008.

[4] Confessions, III.1.

[5] Confessions, III.1.

[6] Confessions, VIII.17.

[7] Confessions, VIII.29.

[8] Confessions, VIII.29.

[9] Confessions, III.21.

[10] Pope Benedict XVI, General Audience Address, 16 January 2008.

[11] Confessions, X.38.

[12] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Ten Homilies on I John, 8.1. In Thomas C. Oden, et al, eds., Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, New Testament Vol. XI: James, 1-2 Peter, 1-3 John, Jude (Downers Grove, Illinois: Inter Varsity Press, 2000), 214).

Homily - 6 August 2017 - The Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

The Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord (A)

Dear brothers and sisters,

There is something about looking upon the face of another person that is of great importance for us. Is this not why we prefer to chat with our family and friends via Facetime than simply with the telephone? It is good to hear the voice of another, yes, but it is better to also see their face. For some three years, the Apostles lived with Jesus. They traveled with him, ate with him, watched him pray, listened to his preaching, and talked with him each day. Yet today they saw something in his face they had not yet seen: they saw his face shine “like the sun” (Matthew 17:2).

With the coming solar eclipse, we have heard a lot about the brightness of the sun, and of the danger of looking directly upon it with unprotected eyes. We have seen the faces of others illumined by the light of the sun, but never have we seen the face of another shine like the sun, as Peter, James, and John were allowed to see upon Mount Tabor, upon the only mountain in Galilee, a mountain whose name means “the coming light.”[1] Because the Lord himself prepared his chosen companions, they could look upon the brilliant beauty and splendor of his face; they were given the privilege of seeing what “many prophets and righteous men longed to see … and did not see it” (Matthew 13:17).

Mount Tabor

Throughout his Gospel, the Evangelist Saint Matthew repeatedly demonstrates how Jesus is the new Moses, the new lawgiver of the new Israel, which comes to fulfillment in his Transfiguration. When Moses came down from Mount Sinai, “the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God” (Exodus 34:29); the light of the Lord’s glory continued to reflect off of Moses’ face so brightly before the People of God that “they were afraid to come near him” and so Moses “put a veil on his face” (Exodus 34:30, 33).

In the Transfiguration of Jesus, those three Apostles saw

visibly what happens when Jesus talks with his Father: the profound interpenetration of his being with God, which then becomes pure light. In his oneness with the Father, Jesus is himself ‘light from light’… Jesus, however, shines from within; he does not simply receive light, but he himself is light from light.[2]

When they looked upon the transfigured face of their Master and Teacher, they were, as Saint Peter said, “eyewitnesses of his majesty” (II Peter 1:16). In that moment, they looked upon the face of God and lived; the light of his face was not too bright for them. They received the fulfillment of the ancient longing of every human heart and so Saint Peter desired to remain before the Transfigured face of the Son of God (cf. Matthew 17:4). Our heavenly patron, Saint Augustine, recognized this common and universal yearning when he prayed in his Confessions, saying to God, “…you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”[3]

The apse mosaic of the Basilica of the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor

In that moment on Mount Tabor we see what Saint Irenaeus recognized so many centuries ago: “Life in man is the glory of God; the life of man is the vision of God.”[4] If the vision of God is our life and glory, if the sight of his face is the rest for which we long, how can we see his face? Is not his glory too bright for us to see? We can be sure that “one does not see the Risen Lord like a piece of wood or stone. He is seen only by those to whom He reveals Himself. And He reveals Himself only to someone whom He can send. He reveals Himself not to curiosity but to love.”[5] He reveals his face to hearts that seek him, to those who ask with the Psalmist, “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God” (Psalm 42:1-2).

Today, then, is a good day for us to reflect upon the purpose of a parish and also of a pastor. Our word parish comes from the thirteenth century, when it entered into English from Latin via Old French. It comes from the Latin word paroceia, which is itself a Latinization of the Greek word paroikia, a word meaning “sojourning in a foreign land.” Its root in Greek is the word paroikos, meaning “dwelling place, stranger, sojourner.” It is really a composite word, being made of para, “beside, by, near,” and oikos, “house.” Fundamentally, then, a parishioner is a stranger dwelling near the house of God whose goal is not simply to dwell near the house of God, but to enter into his house, to enter into his presence and see his face.

The church of St. Augustine, Ashland, Illinois

The purpose of a parish is help our fellow strangers in this strange land grow in the theological virtues of faith, of hope, and of love and so to become holy, to become ever more like Christ (cf. Exodus 2:22; I John 3:2). If parishioners are not reflecting more and more of the light of the face of Christ Jesus, something is amiss and they are not moving toward the goal of their earthly pilgrimage. To encourage and nourish the pilgrim flock, Mother Church has divided the world into dioceses and parishes to ensure that every member of the baptized has a proper pastor, a shepherd, to lead them ever closer to the Father’s house. The pastor of a parish stands in the place of the Bishop, who stands in the place of Christ; a pastor, then, represents not himself, but Christ Jesus, in whose place he stands at the head of the flock to teach, to sanctify, and to govern (cf. canon 519).

When a new pastor arrives in a parish, many of the parishioners wonder what program he will enact. The only program, if you will, which I hope to enact is to help you prepare to see the face of Christ more clearly, to help you draw near to him and bask in the light of his face, a light which can transform us and make us like himself. I hope to help you seek the Lord not in curiosity, but in love, to not only hear his voice speaking in the quiet of our hearts, but to see his face and become witnesses of his majesty and to take your places within the Father’s house.

The Veronica, the Holy Face of Manoppello

Being but a frail human, I cannot do this on my own, and so I will rely upon the grace of God and upon the cooperation of a great many of you. I entrust myself to your prayers and to the intercession of Saint Augustine. As together we look to the Doctor of Grace as a sure guide on the path that leads to the face of God, let each of us make this prayer of Saint Augustine our own:

You have radiated forth, you have shined out brightly, and you have dispelled my blindness. You have sent forth your fragrance, and I have breathed it in, and I long for you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst for you. You have touched me, and I ardently desire your peace.[6]

May the Lord illumine our faces with the light of his love and send us forth to reflect his light in a darkened world. Amen.

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[1] Saint Anthony of Padua, Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent, 3. In Sermons for Sundays and Festivals, Volume I: General Prologue, Sundays from Septuagesima to Pentecost. Paul Spilsbury, trans. (Padua: Edizioni Messagero Padova, 2007), 102.

[2] Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth: From the Baptism in the Jordan to the Transfiguration. Adrian J. Walker, trans. (New York: Doubleday, 2007), 310.

[3] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, 1.1. Henry Chadwick, trans. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 3.

[4] Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies, 4.20.7.

[5] Joseph Ratzinger, in Paul Badde, Benedict Up Close: The Inside Story of Eight Dramatic Years (Irondale, Alabama: EWTN Publishing, Inc., 2017), 42.

[6] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, X.27.38.

New priestly assignments are not April Fool's jokes

This weekend, priests across the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois - myself included - are announcing the new assignments they have received from His Excellency the Most Reverend Thomas John Paprocki, most of which will take effect July 1, 2017.

The decree of appointment I have received from His Excellency reads as follows:

Reverend Daren J. Zehnle is appointed Pastor of Saint Augustine Parish, Ashland, Illinois, and Adjutant Judicial Vicar, while retaining duties as Judge of the Diocesan Tribunal, and as Bishop’s Delegate for Matrimonial Concerns, from Parochial Vicar of Saint Agnes Parish, Springfield, Illinois, and Chief Master of Ceremonies to the Bishop, effective August 1, 2017. He is also appointed Director of the Office for Divine Worship and the Catechumenate, and to post-graduate studies in the summer program for the degree of Master of Arts in Liturgy at theLiturgical Institute of the University of St. Mary of the Lake, Mundelein, Illinois, effective May 1, 2017.

Included in this weekend's bulletin at St. Agnes Parish where I presently serve as Parochial Vicar is a letter I wrote to the parishioners, the text of which follows:

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, 

Shortly after I arrived here among you at St. Agnes Parish, a number of you asked how long I would serve as your Parochial Vicar. I answered honestly when I said I did not know because my assignment came with no expiration date, but that I hoped it would be for a long time. 

I have enjoyed my time among you and ministering alongside Father Bob, but the needs of the Diocese will soon require me to leave St. Agnes Parish to take up the Pastorate of St. Augustine Parish in Ashland, effective August 1, 2017. At that time, I will also become Adjutant Judicial Vicar while remaining Judge of the Diocesan Tribunal and the Bishop’s Delegate for Matrimonial Concerns. 

Beginning May 1, 2017, I will become the Director of the Office for Divine Worship and the Catechumenate and no longer serve as Chief Master of Ceremonies to the Bishop. In order to facilitate my work in the Office for Divine Worship and the Catechumenate, Bishop Paprocki has asked me to return to The Liturgical Institute in Mundelein, Illinois over the course of the next five summers to obtain a Master of Arts in Liturgy (M.A.L.). These studies will require me to be away from St. Agnes Parish from June 9 through July 21. 

I am grateful for the welcome you have extended to me and for the many kindnesses you have shown me these past many months, and look forward to my remaining time among you. Please remember me in your prayers in these coming weeks, as I will continue to remember you in mine. May our heavenly patroness, Saint Agnes, intercede for each of us, that with her we might be faithful lambs of the Good Shepherd and counted among his flock.

Attentive readers may note what might, at first glance, appear to be something of an April Fool's joke (which, I assure you, is unintentional). Not all of the effective dates I provide in my letter match those given in the Bishop's decree. The original text of the decree was altered after my letter was written and printed; I was unaware of the new dates until it was too late. I regret the error, small though it might seem.

Please, in the charity of your prayers, remember me as I seek to fulfill the tasks entrusted to me.