Just like the kids

Two of my parishioners are natives of Sicily - who happen to also be two of the sweetest people I know -and own an excellent little restaurant in Virden: Di Carlo's. It's a gem of a place.

It is a pizzeria that also serves delicious pastas and other foods (the cannelloni is amazing!). Finding credit and debit cards a hassle and not worth the effort and extra cost, they take cash (and maybe checks; I can't remember). And they're closed on Monday's. If you're ever in the area you really have to eat there; it's on the main street in town: Highway 4.

As a freezing mist settles over my parishes this evening I thought it a good idea to spend the evening on paper work, which is best done while enjoying a pizza. After finishing some business in Girard I placed my order and picked it up on the way back to Auburn.

When I walked in the owners greeted and we chatted for a bit. As the lady of the restaurant brought my pizza to the counter she peeked inside and - seeing a thin crust pepperoni - said with a motherly smile, "Just like the kids."

If you're curious, the pizza's delicious.

A most edifying meeting

Over the past two months I have had the pleasure of meeting with several of the area Protestant ministers in Virden and Girard to work together to strengthen the pro-life movement in our area and to be of support to mothers in crisis pregnancies and to women who had abortions. This will be our primary concern.

We want to work together and to coordinate our efforts to have the greatest witness possible to the value, dignity and worth of every human life, from the moment of conception to natural death.

I am very excited about the direction in which this group is headed and can already foresee many blessings coming through our coorperation. I was particularly edified by our meeting this afternoon.

We agreed today to work toward having a time of prayer on the first Tuesday of each month for Christians to gather to pray for a greater respect for life. These services will alternate between Girard and Virden and will also be held at differing churches. Through these services we hope to pray for a wide range of concerns, both local and national.

We also hope to provide one another with a list of resources each of our churches provides so that we can be aware of all options and helps available in our communities. Looking at all of our services together will help us to see if we are offering all that we can and need to offer.

Might I ask you to keep these endeavors in your prayer? Please pray that by our common witness the Spirit might convert the hearts and minds of many.

I haven't done this before

I have offered the Holy Mass in many settings, but I have yet to do so in a construction zone. Soon I will have done so.

We are in the process of replacing not only some of the lights in the sanctuary, but the sockets, as well:

As Murphy's Law would have it, the work is taking longer than was hoped so some scaffolding remains in the sanctuary, pushed as best out of the way as possible, though it will still be a distraction:

I almost wish there was another set of scaffolding on the opposite side, but I may like symmetry just a bit too much.

Ordinarily I preach from the chair. This weekend I think I'll preach from the ambo. It might not be quest as distracting.

On a mostly unrelated matter, I will try to post last weekend's homily this evening. After each Mass I did some touch ups to it on paper but have yet to type them in. I hope to finish that tonight and, if I do, will post it for you.

Preparations and unexpected findings

This morning it was made known to me that no one seemed to be aware where predecessor placed the infant Jesus that belongs to the Nativity set that will soon be displayed in the church. The task fell to me to try and locate him.

When I returned to Virden this evening after running a few errands in Springfield and having dinner with a couple of college friends, I went over to the church to begin the search.

I looked through every cupboard, cabinet and drawer I could find, but to no avail. I did find one infant with two broken hands - he is missing several fingers - but I am certain this cannot be the one for which I was looking. (After Christmas he'll have to be sent away for repairs.)

When I was about to leave the church and give up the search, I remember a tabernacle built into one of the cabinets in my sacristy. I do not know why it is there. At any rate, I decided maybe - just maybe - the holy infant might be in the tabernacle. Stranger things have happened.

After searching and searching for the key - and trying numerous possibilities - I finally found the right one and opened the tabernacle. Inside were three chalices, quite a few other keys and, sure enough, the Baby Jesus.

Hindsight is, as they say, 20/20. I suppose a tabernacle should have been the first place I looked for Jesus.

An evening with the Baptists

This evening the First Baptist Church in Virden hosted the annual Thanksgiving Service sponsored by the North Macoupin County Ministerial Association. Pastor Philips invited me to preach the sermon and I happily accepted his invitation.

My words were very well received and the Baptists were gracious hosts. I'm pleased to say that the local Catholics were also very well represented.

What follows is the sermon I preached for the occasion:

Dear Pastors and Ministers,
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

May the Lord give you peace!

I am grateful to Pastor Philips and to my fellow members of the Virden-Girard Ministerial Association for their kind invitation to preach this evening. They have welcomed me warmly and have been very supportive of my ministry here among you, and I thank them. I thank, too, the members of First Baptist Church who are graciously hosting us this evening; may the Lord reward you for their kindness.

Some four hundred years ago, in 1621 a great feast was held between Puritans Separatists and local Indians to give thanks at Plymouth for the recent harvest in the midst of great hardship. This week families will gather across this land to commemorate this event, though the current difficulties are not so severe, the harvest is not yet finished and our own menus will be very much unlike that of the first Thanksgiving on this nation’s soil.

There is something within us, a certain desire and longing, a certain necessity, if you will, to give thanks. Man must give thanks, for he is not his own, in and of himself. Saint Paul puts it this way: “What have you that you did not receive” (I Corinthians 4:7)? All that we have is gift, whether we recognize it or not.

This need to express gratitude has given rise to rituals and traditions in every culture of the world, in every age and place, from the simplest peasant to the most noble of kings. Although much has changed, this desire to offer thanks remains, even, curiously enough, among atheists.

The greater man advances technologically, the greater his need to give thanks lest he become lost in himself, lest he become ill at ease and unable to rest.

In every corner of the world we discover certain truths. Among them is this: the more a person gives thanks, both to his Creator and to his fellow man, he greater his happiness will be.

Here in the civilized West we have come to the notion that life is meant to be happy and that if, for one reason or another, it is not, something must be amiss. But, my brothers and sisters, is this, in fact, the reality of our human existence?

If we think back to that first celebration of Thanksgiving, can we really say that life was happy for the Europeans or for the Indians as we think a happy life should be today? Of the original number who set sail from England, half died of malnutrition, disease and the elements before the celebration of that first Thanksgiving. Twenty years later, they still had only one plow among them.

The hardships they endured, we, with our indoor plumbing and electricity, computers and supermarkets, can scarcely imagine. Theirs was a life few of us could have lived and in this regard they are not very different from the major course of human history.

This certainly could not have been what we mean by a happy life, but it may well have been a contented life. Would any one of the pilgrims have expected anything less? Of course not; difficulty and hardship was part of everyday life. Why should we expect it to be any different for us, here at the beginning of the twenty-first century?

This gives us cause to consider for what we are grateful. Do we give thanks for the ease with which we have our food, for our trusty air conditioners in the summer and heaters in the winter, for our vehicles which make travel so fast and simple and for the other technological advancements of our age? Of course we do, but we should not stop there.

Those first pilgrims rendered thanks to Almighty God who saw them through that first difficult winter. They did “not forget all the gifts of God,” simple as these gifts may appear to us (Psalm 103:2). They were well aware that, as King David sang, it is the Lord “who pardons all your sins, heals all your ills, delivers your life from the pit, surrounds you with love and compassion, fills your days with good things” (Psalm 103:3-5).

The Lord does all of these things through the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is this very cross of which the Redeemer says, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it” (Luke 9:23-24).

The Church – and each of her members – must always give thanks to God for so great a gift through which all good things come to us. For without the Cross of Jesus Christ, what do we have? As Saint Peter says, “By his wounds, you have been healed” (I Peter 2:24).

So often we seek to flee from the Cross, to avoid what is difficult and seek only what is easy. But, my friends, the Lord Jesus did not promise us a rosy and happy life; he promised us persecution and rejection and division; he promised us the Cross. It is only through his Cross that we know his peace, his joy and his love. Why, then, do we run from it? Why do we not instead run toward the Cross whenever it is presented to us?

We are often afraid of the Cross because it requires us to change our lives, our manner of thinking and doing. It requires us to renounce ourselves more and more until we can say with the Apostle, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).

The Cross of our Lord is not simply his; each of us is called to share in it and share in it we must, if we wish to be his disciple. The Cross will come in different forms for each us because the Lord knows how we will best grow in holiness and grace. He knows best how to complete the good work he has begun in us (cf. Philippians 1:6).

Whereas the Cross was once the symbol of death, now it is the symbol of live, the symbol of victory. Christ reigns now from the throne of his Cross, offering each of us a share in his victory. This is why Saint Paul says we are to “give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (I Thessalonians 5:18). Are we grateful for the Cross as it comes to us?

Saint Paul was certainly grateful for the Cross of Christ, even if he asked for it to be taken from him. When it was not, he accepted it as a faithful disciple and through it came to rely on the grace of Christ in all things, finding in it the cause of his joy (cf. II Corinthians 12:7-8). Christ Jesus said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” which lead Saint Paul to say, “Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong” (II Corinthians 12:9). This is the mark of one who has accepted his share in the Cross.

Writing to the Church of Colossae, he says, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the Church” (Colossians 1:24). How can he rejoice in his sufferings? Because he is thankful for them, because he recognizes the grace given him through them.

Saint James, too, recognized this grace, and so he wrote, “Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance” (James 1:2-3).

Likewise did Saint Peter know the beauty of the Cross. “In this you rejoice,” he says, “although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (I Peter 1:6-7).

Dear brothers and sisters, let us never seek to shy away from the Cross, but let us welcome it gladly, with rejoicing and much thanksgiving. This seems contrary to our natural inclinations. We willing give thanks for the blessings we receive, those things we ordinarily consider good, but to give thanks for difficulties and hardships seems almost insane to our modern sensibilities.

Consider the following reflection of a soldier from the Civil War:

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve; I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things; I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy; I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of others; I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life; I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing I asked for – but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all people, most richly blessed!

This is the reflection of one who knows the beauty of the Cross, of one who is thankful for it.

As we gather this week with family and friends around our tables, we will rightly recall with gratitude that first Thanksgiving at Plymouth. We will rightly recall with gratitude the many material blessings the Lord has given us, both in this nation and in this time. But let us not forget to render thanks to the Father Almighty for the gift of his Son, for the gift of his Cross, for our sharing in his sufferings.

The sitting room

N.B.: For some reason, Blogger will not let me move these pictures. There were intended to go within the text below.

In the room just off the front entrance my predecessor kept his office. I attempted to do the same but the more I tried to make the room - which seems to have been intended as a sitting room - I simply could not make it work.

One day last week someone came by the rectory for spiritual direction. As I waited for her to arrive it suddenly dawned I me that I really did not have anywhere to sit and visit with directees, parishioners or even friends and guests. We talked at the dining room and I resolved to remedy the situation.

Upstairs my predecessor had set aside a room - that had been two rooms - as a library and study. Since the shelves and desk are attached to the walls I kept the room for the same use and have now moved all of my office into it (consequently, it is a bit disheveled at the moment). I decided to use the room just off of the entrance to the rectory as my sitting room, to visit with friends and guests, to watch television and play video games, and even read the occasional book.

Earlier this week I went to the local furniture store and chose a couch and two chairs to make the room both comfortable and stately. They arrived this morning so I've spent the majority of the day rearranging the house.

When the new drapes arrive which have been ordered the room will really take shape.

Presently I am tired of being in the house all day and am going for a swim. When I return I'll see to a bit of paperwork, work on a homily or two and call it a day.

At the blessing of graves

This afternoon we celebrated the Blessing of Graves at the Virden Cemetery. About 20 of the faithful attended the 4:00 p.m. prayers.

One of the parishioners mentioned beforehand that he wished he had brought his camera along. I reached into my cassock and produced my camera. He kindly took the following pictures:

A light-hearted moment before the prayer.

A small portion of the Virden cemetery.
It is a public cemetery and has a few intriguing stones.

Listen, brothers and sisters, to the Scriptures.

At 7:00 p.m. I will celebrate Mass for the Holy Souls.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord. Let perpetual light shine upon them.

May they rest in peace. Amen.

An uncustomary stop at customs

Before I left for my pilgrimage in honor of Saint Joseph Damien de Veuster, I mentioned to a parishioner (it somehow came up in conversation) that I would probably be looking for a new altar cross for the parish here in Virden. The one in use at the time was small and thin and did not seem to blend well with the overall look of the church. To my surprise - and delight - the parishioner offered to purchase whatever cross I chose.

Wandering through the liturgical shops in the Eternal City, I was surprised to see how few of them seemed to sell crucifixes to place on the altar. I did find one, though, that I liked and purchased.

Before leaving the store with it, it was wrapped first in bubble wrap and then in brown paper.

When it came time to return to the United States, I had to carry the cross onto the plane, both because it would not fit in my suitcase and because I would be receiving a Value Added Tax (VAT) credit and the office might want to see it.

When I arrived in Chicago and finally made my way to the customs counter, I placed the wrapped cross on the counter and produced my passport for the officer. He asked, "What is that?"

"A cross to place on an altar," I answered. "You probably don't see too many of these come through here."

He looked at me and said, "No, not too many," after which he stamped my passport and sent me on my way. It might have been my fastest time through customs yet.

At any rate, the cross was on the altar for the weekend Masses and the parishioners seem to be quite pleased with it:

Virden in history

While I was away in Rome, a friend sent a notice to me about the town of Virden, of which I am now pastor, in history.

Apparently on 12 October 1898, Virden was the site of a riot involving the coal mines, which apparently resulted in the 8-hour working day. This from Britannica:

African American workers from Alabama who were hired by the Chicago-Virden Coal Company in an attempt to break a strike by local workers affiliated with the United Mine Workers of America. Some 15 people (mostly local miners and guards hired to protect the train carrying the arriving workers) died. The city was under martial law for several days, and the union movement credited the incident as an important milestone, especially in the winning of the eight-hour day.

This might explain a bronze bas relief down in the square.

Can anyone offer more information on this?

The sunflower room

Currently, the kitchen in my rectory looks like this:

I have taken to calling it, "the sunflower room," but upon my return to Virden I will no longer be able to call it such.

One of the parishioners has very kindly offered to paint the kitchen (cabinets, walls and trim) during my absence in the Eternal City.

The currently yellow walls will be painted "dignity blue." The cabinets and trim will be painted "crewel tan." And the doors will be painted "curio grey."

If you've never played at the Sherwin Williams web site, you just might want to do so. You can select which room you want to paint and then choose a room that looks something like yours. Once you choose your colors the web site can add them to your room and you can get an idea of what it will look like afterwards.

I think I may start calling the kitchen the seaside room.

Just because

A public installation

During the celebration of the Holy Mass, the Reverend Monsignor Carl A. Kemme, Administrator of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois and a good friend, publicly installed me as Pastor of Sacred Heart parish in Virden and of St. Patrick parish in Girard.

Many positive comments have been received on the simply but profound ceremony. I am deeply grateful for Msgr. Kemme's support, encouragement and prayers. His presence yesterday was a great help to me and to the parishioners.

My favorite parts of the ceremony involved my placing my hand on the Book of the Gospels as I made the Oath of Fidelity,

and the signing of the Oath itself.

More pictures can viewed can be viewed on my Facebook page.

I'm happy to say the parishioners seem sincerely happy that I have been sent to them. They have been most gracious and welcoming and I think we will grow well together in love of the

Lord Jesus Christ.

Apparently, the talk around town - even among some who aren't Catholic - is that the lights in the rectory are on. That's a good sign; my presence is noted, even if sometimes leave town and forget to turn off a light or two :)

Today has been a good, productive and informative day. After Mass I cleaned the sacristy a bit. After unpacking a bit more in the house, I met with a parishioner and member of the finance council to talk through the parish finances. That meeting was very good and helpful. Soon I'll convoke the pastoral council and set to work on what needs to be done, both temporal and spiritual.

The Administrator cometh

On Sunday Sacred Heart parish in Virden and St. Patrick parish in Girard will welcome the Diocesan Administrator, the Reverend Monsignor Carl A. Kemme, a native of Shumway.

Although I took canonical possession of my parishes this past September 15th, the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows, he will install me as Pastor in a public way.

Monsignor Kemme will introduce me to the parish (though they've already briefly met me) and will hand me the keys to the church (I think). I believe Bishop Lucas' letter of appointment will be read, after which I will make the profession of faith:

I, Daren J. Zehnle, with firm faith believe and profess everything that is contained in the symbol of faith: namely,

I believe in one god, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen. I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of god, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made, one in Being with the Father. Through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, he was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered, died and was buried. On the third day he rose again in fulfillment of the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son. With the Father and the Son he is worshipped and glorified. He has spoken through the prophets. I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. I acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.

With firm faith I believe as well everything contained in God's word, written or handed down in tradition and proposed by the Church - whether in solemn judgment or in the ordinary and universal magisterium - as divinely revealed and calling for faith.

I also firmly accept and hold each and every thing that is proposed by that same Church definitely with regard to teaching concerning faith or morals.

What is more, I adhere with religious submission of will and intellect to the teachings which either the Roman Pontiff or the college of bishops enunicate when they exercise the authentic magisterium even if they proclaim those teachings in an act that is not definitive.

I will proclaim the Gospel and Monsignor Kemme will preach, explaining the office of a pastor and the meaning of the rites.

After his homily, I will renew the promises I made on the day I was ordained. Monsignor Kemme will address certain questions to me, to which I will respond affirmatively:

My dear brother, in the presence of the people whom you are about to receive into your care, I ask you to renew the promises you made at your ordination.

Are you resolved that under the guidance of the Holy Spirit you will without fail live up to your responsibility to be the faithful co-worker of the order of bishops in shepherding the flock of the Lord?

R/. I am.

Are you resolved that in praise of God and for the sanctification of the Christian people you will celebrate the mysteries of Christ devoutly and faithfully, and in accord with the tradition of the Church?

R/. I am.

Are you resolved that in preaching the Gospel and teaching the Catholic faith you will worthily and wisely fulfill the ministry of God's word?

R/. I am.

Are you resolved that you will bind yourself ever more closely to Christ, the high priest who for us offered himself to the Father as a spotless victim, and that with Christ you will consecrate yourself to God for the salvation of your brothers and sisters?

R/. I am.

Do you promise respect and obedience to [the Diocesan Bishop and his successors]?

R/. I do.

May God who has begun this good work in you bring it to fulfillment.

After I renew my promises, Monsignor Kemme may lead me to around the church to the principle locations of the church: the chair, the tabernacle, the baptismal font and the confessional.

At some point I will also place my hands upon the Book of the Gospels and renew the Oath of Fidelity:

I, Daren J. Zehnle, on assuming the office of pastor of Sacred Heart Parish, Virden, Illinois, and of Saint Patrick Parish, Girard, Illinois, promise that I shall always preserve communion with the Catholic Church whether in the words I speak or in the way I act.

With great care and fidelity I shall carry out the responsibilities by which I am bound in relation both to the universal church and to th particular church in which I am called to exercise my service according to the requirements of the law.

In carrying out my charge, which is committed to me in the name of the church, I shall preserve the deposit of faith in its entirety, hand it on faithfully and make it shine forth. As a result, whatsoever teachings are contrary I shall shun.

I shall follow and foster the common discipline of the whole church and shall look after the observance of all ecclesiastical laws, especially those which are contained in the Code of Canon Law.

With Christian obedience I shall associate myself with what is expressed by the holy shepherds as authentic doctors and teachers of the faith or established by them as the church's rulers. And I shall faithfully assist diocesan bishops so that apostolic activity, to be exercised by the mandate and in the name of the church, is carried out in the communion of the same church.

May God help in this way and the holy Gospels of God which I touch with my hands.

Monsignor Kemme will be present at the 8:15 a.m. Mass in Virden and at the 10:00 a.m. Mass in Girard for this rite.

I know some of my new parishioners are readers of this blog; would any you like to take pictures for me?

The Decree of Appointment

Since Wednesday's unexpected announcement of Pope Benedict XVI's appointment of the Most Reverend George J. Lucas as the Archbishop of Omaha, many of the high school students have asked me a rather clever question.

Realizing His Excellency was no longer the Bishop of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois but the Administrator, the students asked if I still had to leave the parish in September. Their affection for me and their desire to have me remain here is deeply humbling; I am continually baffled at the profound I seem to have had in their lives. I can only look back on these past four years with wonder and joy. Being here with them has truly been one of the greatest joys of my life and I am deeply grateful to God for the many blessings he has worked in my life through them and in their lives through me, as I am also grateful to the students themselves.

Even so, I accept this new assignment as the Lord's will for my life and am confident that it will be filled with many blessings and joys.

At any rate, the short answer to their question is yes.

In order for a transfer from one office to another to take effect - in this case from the office of Parochial Vicar to the office of Pastor - it "must be communicated in writing" (canon 190, 3). On the 26th of May, eight days before his appointment to the See of Omaha, then-Bishop Lucas signed the Decree of Appointment; I received it the next day. Because he was at that time the Bishop of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, the Decree stands.

The decree reads as follows:

Decree of Appointment

By this decree, I appoint

The Reverend Daren J. Zehnle

to be Pastor (c. 519) of Sacred Heart Parish, Virden, Illinois, and of Saint Patrick Parish, Girard, Illinois, from parochial vicar of Saint Anthony of Padua Parish, Effingham, Illinois, effective September 15, 2009.

I dispense him from any partiular ritual of taking canonical possession of these parishes, and ask that he communicate this to the parishes (c. 527, 2).

He is to return the completed oath of office (c. 833, 6) to me as soon as possible after the date of his appointment.

I think I will post the oath of office tomorrow.

The first visit

In just over an hour I will make my way to my future parishes in Virden and Girard to meet with Fr. August Sperl, who has ministered to the people in Virden for the past twenty-six years.

Fr. Sperl served as Pastor of Sacred Heart parish in Virden from 1983-1995. Since 1995 he has served as Parochial Administrator of the same parish.

He was appointed Parochial Administrator of St. Patrick parish in Girard in 2008.

At 89 years of age, Fr. Sperl is the oldest serving priest in the Diocese; I am the youngest serving. Up until a few years ago, Fr. Sperl could still be found riding his motorcycle and skiing.

Never having done this before, I'm not quite sure what to expect from this initial visit. I will let Fr. Sperl take the lead.

Aftershocks

For the past three and a half days I had to pretend that nothing had changed when I knew as of 1:45 p.m. Tuesday that everything had, or at least soon would. This was made especially difficult as so many of the high school students kept telling what plans and hopes they had for me in the coming year. All I could say was, “We’ll see.” I wanted to crawl under a desk and hide.

Naturally, some of the kids noticed that something was bothering me and so they kept hounding me trying to get me to speak. All I could tell them was that I couldn’t yet say, but on Friday they would know.

Some of them put the pieces of the puzzle together and arrived at the right conclusion and were mad at me that I was leaving and that I wouldn’t tell them when.

Let it suffice to say that the last several days were not easy. I think, over the course of two nights, I slept for a combined four and a half hours. Last night I finally slept for six hours. Having the 6:30 a.m. Mass this week didn’t help with sleeping.

The high school yesterday had a half day of school, which ended with a Mass with their parents. It was at this Mass that I first publicly announced my new assignment.

Since I was subbing for a teacher the last three days, I brought my class over to the church early so that I could set up for Mass. As I did so, the students again showed their love and reminded me most clearly of why this move will be hard, even though I know that many blessings will come my way in Virden and Girard.

The two senior servers were already at the church and were getting things set up. There wasn’t a great deal to prepare, really. The Paschal Candle had to be lit, the water and wine prepare, along with the hosts, and a few patens had to be set out. All of this would take two people five minutes, tops.

As I talked with the two servers, who have become good friends over the years, six of the sophomore boys came into the sacristy asking to help set up. I was deeply touched.

They then said they were going to sit in the front few and were going to make the responses well and sing the songs. They simply wanted to help. And they’d already guessed the news.

Since they were going to be in the front pew, I sent them back to the high school to grab my camera to take pictures during the Mass.

I nearly lost all composure as I placed the stole around my neck and was very clearly reminded of the yoke of Christ and of my obedience to him and to the Bishop. His burden may be light, but sometimes it sure feels heavy.

I made the announcement after Communion. It was received as well as could be expected, with much shock and sadness, together with congratulations. I nearly broke down twice, but by the grace of God I was able to keep it together well enough, though my love for the kids was clearly seen and I had to pause a number of times before continuing.

When I finished my words, they rose to their feet and applauded for I’m not sure how long. Since the announcement, it has been a humble pleasure to hear how the Lord has used me to touch so many of them.

When I returned to the sacristy after greeting people after the Mass, the sophomore boys were waiting for me there to take me to lunch. Four others tried to join us at the restaurant, but the table wasn’t big enough. So I made sure to pop over to their table to thank them.

I feel so much better now that I no longer have to keep the assignment secret. The kids understand and are no longer mad at me, though they don’t want to see me go.

I already have six or eight of them who have claimed the lead of the caravan to move me to Virden. As I think about this I am deeply grateful and can only smile.

Homily - 8 April 2009

Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter
Mass with the Students and Parents of the High School
The Announcement of My First Pastorate

My dear young friends,

Four years ago, Bishop Lucas sent me here to proclaim the Good News “that what God promised our fathers he has brought to fulfillment for us, their children, by raising up Jesus” (Acts 13:32). When he asked me to return to St. Anthony’s as a priest, he said to me, “You’re young and have lots of energy, and if you want, you can help out at the high school.” As you know, I accepted these “marching orders” and invested myself here among you. These several years later, my time with you has been one of the greatest blessings of my life.

Some of you know that for the past three years I have served on the Priests Personnel Board, advising the Bishop about the assignments of priests. This Board met Tuesday morning; it was a difficult and heart-wrenching meeting for me.

Tuesday evening, one of you posed this question to me: “At the end of the [school] year, if you could have your choice of going anywhere or staying here, what would you choose?” He had no idea how his question stung, how it cut straight to my heart.

I told him I would choose to stay here, but only six hours earlier, Bishop Lucas asked me to assume the pastorates of Sacred Heart Parish in Virden and of St. Patrick Parish in Girard. With great reluctance I accepted, remembering my promise of obedience given him on the day he ordained me to the priesthood of Jesus Christ. I wanted you to be the first to know, after the parish staff.

It is with a heavy heart that I hear the words of the Psalmist today: “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before him; with trembling rejoice” (Psalm 2:11). These are certainly the sentiments of my heart.

I knew this day would come, though I honestly thought and hoped I would have one more year with you. Indeed, it was my heart’s desire to remain here among you. You know that many plans have already been made with you and most of these will – I regret to say – have to change. At the same time, many celebrations will have to be planned in the weeks ahead. Exactly what this means I do not know; we can work this out.

At this moment I do not know when my new assignment in Virden and Girard begins. All I can say is that it will likely begin sometime between the first of July and the middle of September.

Although I know that the Lord will bring many blessings through this new assignment, I have no desire to leave St. Anthony’s – least of all to leave you.

My heart feels as though it has been torn from my chest and pounded several times. And yet, Jesus says to me today, as he says to you, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me” (John 14:1). With these words, let us recall what I have told you so often these past few years.

I have told you that our only happiness lies in God and in following his will for our lives. This new assignment two hours west of here – just south of Springfield – is the will of the Lord for me, as given through Bishop Lucas. Difficult as it is, I accept this assignment with humble trust, remembering that when I laid down on the cool marble floor of the Cathedral the day I was ordained I gave my life to Jesus Christ and his Church. As I ask the Lord today to give me – and you – his joy and peace, I place my life again at the service of his Church.

We know that Saint Thomas said to Jesus, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way” (John 14:5). The Lord is now entrusting me with a portion of his flock and I find myself saying to him, “Master, I do not know where you are leading me; how can I know the way?”

One of my favorite singers and songwriters is Rich Mullins. In his song, “Hard to Get,” he sings,

I can’t see how You’re leading me
Unless You’ve led me here
Where I’m lost enough to let myself be led.
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get.

Jesus is now asking me to let myself be led by him so that I will be better able to lead others to him.

I do not fully understand the Lord’s will in this new assignment, but I will listen to his words, “I am the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6).

His way is the way of the Cross, the way of self-abandonment and love. His way requires the giving of one’s own self, of one’s own life, so that others might live. This I have tried to do for you during my time among you, and now, as I prepare to leave you, I am offering this for you as well.

In a time such as this, I find myself asking, “How do I want to be remembered here?” We have had many enjoyable moments, my friends, in the classroom, on the soccer field, on the wrestling mat and the track field, in the weight room, in busses and vans and cars, and even at Buffalo Wild Wings. These moments I hope you will remember; I will remember them and cherish them. But this is what I want you to remember above all else: the love of Jesus Christ.

If my time among you has been nothing more than a bunch of laughter and goofing around with Dr Pepper, sour balls and Apples to Apples, if I have not somehow helped you to realize and understand more deeply the love of God, then I have failed in my mission. If such is the case, I offer my sincere apologies and beg your forgiveness. But if my time among you has helped to lead you closer to Jesus, let us together give him thanks and praise, for it is he who has used me, his simple and humble laborer, for his own glory.

Five or ten years from now, if you think of me I hope it will be because you have realized the beauty and the importance of living for others. The way of Jesus Christ – the way which the saints have followed – shows us that it is better, that is more fulfilling and more human – to care more about other people than to care about myself. I want to leave behind a group of young people who care more about others than they do themselves. This is what I want you to remember: that life is best lived when it is lived for God and for others! Live in this way, my dear young friends, and despite what storms of life may be befall you, your hearts will not long be troubled, for you will rest securely in the embrace of God.

I do have one final gift to leave you: church service hours. In the weeks – and, God willing – months ahead, I will count on you to help me pack. And if you want to form a caravan to help me move, I would be deeply honored and happy to make dinner for all who help.

I cannot thank you enough for the love and joy you have shared with me these past few years. I have no words to express my deep gratitude but these two simple words: thank you. With all my heart, I thank you. I have very much enjoyed your friendship and I count on your continued friendship in the years to come. Know that if you ever need a laugh, if you ever need to talk, if you have a question that needs an answer or you simply want to try to stump me still, I am only a phone call, a text message, or a Facebook message away.

Finally, I must beg your prayers for me. I have no idea what the future holds for me and I look into it now with much trepidation. I do not feel ready to be a pastor, but this is what the Lord is now asking of me and he will strengthen me with his grace to fulfill the duties he is entrusting to me.

Pray, my dear young friends, that I will be a good, holy and zealous pastor of the flock that will soon be entrusted to me. And know that I will remember you each day in my prayers, as I ask the Lord to bless you abundantly. May his joy and peace be with us all this day. Amen.