Boom, boom, diddum, daddum, waddum, CHOO!
Kasia June 23rd, 2008
Actually, emphasis on the BOOMs…
Either the City of St. Clair Shores has scheduled its Independence Day fireworks for tonight, or else the big downtown fireworks are carrying magnificently up here to Lake St. Clair. Either one is possible, and I’m not particularly concerned which it is.
All I know is that the cats think we’re under siege. Which is actually sort of cute, but I feel sorry for the poor guys - I can’t exactly explain it to them! Miko in particular is quite discombobulated. Poor kitty.
So since sleep is probably a lost cause right now, I’ll take a few minutes to tell anyone who cares (Matt) about our associate pastor’s farewell Mass and reception yesterday.
We had a pastoral transition last summer, and this summer it was our associate pastor’s turn to move on. We’ve been assigned one of the new ordinandi, who will be starting July 1; Father D, however, will be taking a new assignment.
For those of you who don’t know him, Father D is one of those guys you can’t seem to help but love. He’s a sweet, gentle, boyish man with a moderately thick Slavic accent. I still get an inappropriate chuckle when I hear him distributing the Eucharist:
“The BAH-dy of Christ.”
“The BLOOOOOOD of Christ.”
It’s very cute. I love accents.
Anyway, he’d been away for a while, and came back to have a farewell to and from the parish. I have to admit, I choked up a bit hearing him celebrate Mass. One of the most endearing things about him is his awestruck wonder at the Sacred Mysteries; and hearing him yesterday drove that home again. I love hearing him be amazed by God. And I got a little teary when I realized that it was very possible that I’d never hear him sing that husky, slightly off-key “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith” again.
The Mass was lovely (even apart from the woman next to me holding my shoulder during the Lord’s Prayer). Father B concelebrated. Father XYZ got up to do the homily and said, “While I was away, I had plenty of time to write a VERY LONG homily for you…” to many chuckles from the pews. (Father D is not known for his homiletic brevity.)
But then he went on to say that he had torn it up, and that he just wanted to say some things to us. And as anyone who knows Fr. D would suspect, it wasn’t short! But it was one of those rare moments when hardly anyone seemed to notice how much time was elapsing. I know I didn’t.
He told us how much he loved us. He told us how much our parish meant to him. He told us how much love our parish had shown to him and to others.
And he told us not to be afraid.
It was one of those odd things, that his final Mass happened to be on this particular Sunday in this particular year. Because the readings were, I think, uncannily appropriate. Jeremiah 20:10, for one thing. And Matthew 10:28. (My apologies to those of you who aren’t familiar with our parish; I’m being intentionally circumspect, both to protect some individuals’ privacy and to avoid sinning by detraction against anyone.)
Never be afraid.
The parish gave him two farewell gifts: a large framed picture of Christ knocking at a door (”Behold, I stand at the door and knock”) and a stole with the very distinctive parish installation cross embroidered onto it, so that every time he wore the stole to celebrate Mass he could remember that he was in our prayers, that he was loved by us, and that he was always welcome back. And Fr. B read a blessing that had been composed especially for the occasion by our former pastoral associate, who had to return to the mother house because of health issues.
All in all: a lovely Mass.
And Matt, under the circumstances I wouldn’t worry too much about whether you fulfilled your Sunday obligation…I’m pretty sure being in the narthex counts. God understands cranky children. 
