Babies, Freedom, and Guitars

Baptisms
Baptisms are always a pleasure. Although the ritual is the same, each child and each family makes it a new experience. Jesus gives new life - His life - to these precious children and to the parent(s) he gives what they need to care for them. Sometimes I seem to have a special touch with these infants. After the baptisms I take pictures with the families and their newly baptized children. Its amazing how a cheerful baby can turn so mad so quickly the instant they're given to me to hold. The moment I hand him/her back to mom or dad peace reigns again. Here are pictures of baby Brian. (Brian and I got along just fine)

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Premature and Precious

My friend Dave and his wife had their first baby recently. Alyssa was born 2 months premature. She was healthy but at 3 pounds she was quite fragile as well. Dave and I were great friends in High School but we lost touch a few years later. Its seems Alyssa brought us together again with a little help from Google. I headed over to the hospital on my day off and met Alyssa and her happy but nervous mom. We spent about an hour together and I took great pleasure in holding this 3 pound wonder as she would open her eyes and look at me and make funny faces at me. Meet Alyssa.

(Click to enlarge)

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The Barber Philosopher

As I sat in the chair at Super Cuts to get my monthly 2" on the side, 7" on the top hair cut the Vietnamese barber started the small talk. In her thick accent she asked "do you have kids?". "No" I said. She responded all too joyfully "Oh you lucky". Then she followed up with "Are you married?". Again, I said "No". Well, it sounded like I made her day as she said "Oh you really lucky, you have lots of freedom". I returned a courteous laugh.

How odd! I understand what she meant but what a selfish life that would be: to not get married or have children so that I could be "free". What else is freedom for than to give your life to someone. "Whoever wishes to save his life will loose it."MT 16:25a

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Priest and Guitar Hero

We recently had our parish La Fiesta, a one-day event. 2 years ago I sat in the dunk booth as our innocent Catholic school children lined up in droves to dunk me. This year proved to be more merciful. There was a booth set up with Guitar Hero and I had been signed up together with our Deacon to test my Guitar Skills against children who were born with it in their hands.

I underwent 3 weeks of self-training. The training wasn't as intense as Rocky Balboa's but I was determined to put on a show. We had a lot of fun. Many passed by the booth in amazement as they saw their parish priest rockin' out to Pat Benatar.

A priest wears many hats. Today I add Guitar Hero to the list.

Las Lomas

It's one thing to hear that a Catholic has decided to go to a protestant church and quite another to find that some are being lead astray by people who pretend to be Catholic priests and bishops. There is not much shock - though there should be - when we hear that someone is leaving the Catholic Church to go to XYZ chapel or some community church but when people use the name Catholic in the name of their "church", dress like priests and present themselves as Catholic priests I...get...angry.

There is always the occasional story about a renegade priest who has left the priesthood and started his own church. They give it a nice name and they're on their way. However, when someone uses the name "Catholic" in the name of their church, says he's Catholic, and intentionally misleads people he commits a grave sin and deprives innocent and unexpecting people of the true Roman Catholic faith and the grace God offers us in the Sacraments.

From time to time someone would mention that there was a priest in the neighborhood who was teaching catechism to kids from the garage of a house on a street called Las Lomas. No one seemed to know the exact address. We put a notice in the bulletin to let people know that this man was not a valid priest and whatever "sacraments" he may be offering are not valid. As a result some parents approached me to ask me if it was alright for them to be sponsors for a child that was going to receive Confirmation from this priest. I informed them that, despite the ritual and the appearance of a Confirmation, it would not be valid and the child would be deprived of the true Sacrament. I insisted on knowing exactly address where this girl was taking classes. I was told he taught religious education classes on Wednesday nights and was finally given the address on Las Lomas street.

Determined to put an end to this I got in a car with the Director of Religious Education here at the parish and her assistant and we drove to Las Lomas on a Wednesday night. Our intention was to arrive there before classes begun at 6pm and talk to this "priest". Unfortunately when we arrived at 6 we saw the garage door of the house open and about 25 kids and many of their parents in folding chairs listening to a man teach in Spanish. I stood quietly in the back for a minute or two and listened. Though quiet, I was quickly noticed. The man, dressed in casual clothes, stopped, looked at me and said in English:

"Hi, can I help you."

"Yes", I said, "I am Father Brendan, who are you?"

He responded "I am Father Fernando."

"Oh you're a Catholic priest. What church are you from" I asked.

He said" St. Matthew's in Huntington Beach"

"There isn't a Catholic Church named St. Matthew in Huntington Beach" I informed him.

"Yes there is", he said"

The conversation continued civilly but the tension was obvious and the children, ranging from 6-16 years old and their parents could sense it. Many of them attend Sunday Mass at our parish and so they recognized me. And if not, the roman collar certainly helped. This man claimed to be a Catholic priest from a parish that doesn't exist. I pursued the issue and told him that he did not have the bishop's approval to be here and however good his intentions may be they were misguided. He wavered on the issue saying he was here by the authority of Bishop Mahonney. (Apparently he wasn't aware that that it's Cardinal Mahonney). I asked him again:

"Are you a Catholic priest and if so who is your bishop?"

"Yes", he said, "my bishop is Bishop Maximo."

"There is no Catholic bishop by the name of Maximo" I told him, a bit frustrated with his lack of honesty.

The parents and kids were becoming more uncomfortable with the situation.

Trying to get a straight answer I asked: "Are you in communion with Rome"?

"We are are an independent church", he told me.

Then I told him firmly, "then you're not Catholic.

Knowing that most of the parents there understood what was going but didn't understand everything that was being said I addressed the priest in Spanish and said "you are deceiving these people into believing you are a Catholic priest and you are not. If you wish to start your own church you have every right to do so but don't tell these people you are Catholic because you are not" I then addressed the parents and told them that I respected their decision to worship according to their beliefs and conscience but they should know that this man is not a Catholic priest. If they wished to receive a Catholic education and receive the Sacraments then they needed to come to Our Lady of Guadalupe or another Catholic parish.

To my great surprise, some of the parents were clearly upset with me that I had invited myself to this house and and felt that I was accusing them of doing something bad. This disheartened me. I assured them that, on the contrary, they were being great parents by wishing to educate their children in the faith and joining them for their classes. I felt that if, indeed, this man was Catholic I would surely be warmly welcomed whether or not I had been invited. My goal, I told them, was to let them know that if they were attending these classes in this garage thinking that they were receiving the Catholic faith or that the sacraments they were preparing for were valid then there were being gravely mislead by this man. If they were aware that this man was not truly a Catholic priest and wanted to follow his teachings that I respected their freedom to do so.

I asked the "priest" to be honest with the children and their parents and simply tell them that he was not a Catholic priest in good standing. He said that he explained the differences to them. I said "OK" I shook his hand, thanked him for his time and we left.

The 5 minute ride back to the parish was difficult. I was disheartened by the reaction of the parents and wondered if I had come across as the mean 'ol arrogant Catholic priest. Perhaps I should have tried to pull the "priest" aside and talk to him privately, I thought. The two women I went with assured me that we did the right thing, that they needed to be told that this was not a Catholic priest. I thought and prayed a lot about this during the night and the next morning. My intention was good but perhaps I had gone about it the wrong way. The visit seemed a failure.

When the three of us returned to the parish we checked the internet for a St. Matthew' Parish as well as the name of Fr. Fernando. Surprise, surprise. We found that St. Matthew's Old Catholic Church was started by some Catholic priests who left the priesthood and started their own church. The claim to believe in all the Catholic teachings of the Catholic Church until the first Vatican Council in 1870. However, when we read about their beliefs on their website we found that they approve of people having premarital sex, remarriage after divorce, women priests, contraception among other things. Now I was felling a little redeemed. This man had essentially lied to me and these families. What doesn't he just tell people the truth? He is intentionally misleading the people. Worse, he and others do so using names like Guadalupe Chapel as bait to attract Hispanics. We also read that this Fr. Fernando was, in fact, a Catholic priest who left the Catholic Church, got married and then joined this heretical community.

The following day I was busy with appointments up until 5:15 at which time I needed to head over to the church to celebrate the 5:30 Mass. As I opened the door I saw a group of people standing outside of the church which I presumed was a family waiting for a wedding rehearsal. As I left the rectory and headed towards the church this group of people pointed at me and approached me. Suddenly I recognized them as parents from the garage at Las Lomas the night before.

"We want to meet with you now", they said"

I told them I had Mass, paused for a minute and said "OK, 7pm tonight" I felt like Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane when the soldiers came out to arrest him with torches and swords. What do they want, I wondered with an accelerated heartbeat as I continued toward the church to celebrate Mass. Why are they here? I celebrated Mass with my mind on Las Lomas, had dinner and wondered what might be waiting for me in one hour.

After dinner I spent 15 minutes praying and thinking about the things I should and shouldn't do and say. Prayer - we should start the meeting with prayer. I picked out the passage about the parable of the shepherd seeking out the lost sheep. I decided the most important thing for me to do was to simply listen to the parents and try to understand them.

At 7pm I welcomed this groups of parents. I was outnumbered 14 to 1 and forced to listen, understand and respond in a language I am comfortable with. Instead of using the scripture passage I had chosen I thanked the parents for coming and prayed that the Holy Spirit grant us humility, understanding and wisdom and then tried to tell them in Spanish "I'm all ears".

Some told me they were offended by my visit and all were troubled by it. However, they all realized that the parish cared about them. We sought them out and cared for them. The parents were full of complaints about their experience with religious education at the parish. It was too long, too expensive and they felt that they were treated rudely at at times. I apologized and told them that we could do things much better but I were willingly to listen and improve if they would help us. Much of the conversation was focused on misunderstandings: that religious education is only to receive sacraments, that easier and more convenient is always better, that cheaper is better, that the church turns children away if they can't pay. I shared the information we found from St. Matthew's website which clearly showed that this man was no longer a priest, not Catholic, and that many of their teachings are contrary to the Catholic faith

Clearing up many of their misunderstandings helped a lot and letting them vent was healthy for all of us. I told them that we would love to have the kids back in our religious education classes so that they could receive a Catholic education and receive the sacraments. I tried to make it clear that this was not a case territorialism: my church and his church but rather that God's one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church that he founded upon St. Peter and his successors. They told me that their children were scheduled to received their 1st Communion in a few weeks from the "priest" and had already paid $80 to the man and would not consider waiting another year for their kids to receive their 1st Communion. I invited them to meet with me again together with the staff of our Office of Faith Formation.

At the parish we were quite positive about the possibilities of this upcoming meeting. The thought of all these families coming back to the Catholic Church thrilled us. We were determined to do whatever was possible to accommodate these kids and their parents. The meeting wouldn't prove so successful.

We provided chips and sodas and tried to welcome these families. There were not convinced that there was any difference between our church and the other "priest's" church. I tried with all simplicity to explain but to little avail. The other guy sounds like a priest, teaches like one and hadn't preached anything different than the parents had received form their priests in Mexico, they told me. The priest who was teaching in the garage was helping the parents and their children learn about God and was doing it in a very convenient way. There was still some resentment at my uninvited visit to Las Lomas and one parent told me I should show up again and apologize to the "priest", the children and their parents. One person suggested that I and the other "priest" celebrate a Mass together. Many of them could not grasp the reality that this man was not a priest nor was his church Catholic. It was mindboggeling.

By the end of the meeting we offered the parents to set up a special class for the children to evaluate what the they already knew about the Eucharist to supplement what was lacking and make sure their children received their 1st Communion as soon as possible. The Director of Religious Education was wise enough to ask about the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The kids had never been told about the Sacrament. Nonetheless, we assured the parents we would do whatever necessary to give their children a Catholic education for free during the summer and have a special Mass for their 1st Communion as soon as possible.

Although it was a lot work we got the feeling that the parents were surprised that we were bending over backwards to make things work for them while making sure that the children were properly prepared for Holy Communion. The four wonderful women who work in the Office of Faith Formation took on the added task of evaluating what these children knew and didn't know about the Eucharist and to prepare them accordingly. From the 25 children who we found in the garage that night at Las Lomas three parents decided to pull their children - six in all - out of Las Lomas and bring them to our parish.

As these personalized classes began for these six children it was found that two of the kids had never been baptized. So 1st Communion classes now became baptism, Reconciliation and 1st Communion classes. It was a lot of work for the parish Religious Education staff.

Like world diplomats the staff worked closely with the parents to find an agreeable date and time to receive all three sacraments while making sure the kids would be prepared in time.

Last week four of the children made their first Confession while the other two received a blessing in anticipation of their baptism. This Saturday we celebrated the baptism of Roxanna and Ernesto. It was great to see the staff of Religious Education who cared so well for these kids together with the 4 other children attending their baptism.

Today at the 1pm Mass in Spanish the six children received their First Communion in the presence of their families and about 900 parishioners. The children and their parents were so happy and we were too.

The Las Lomas saga ended with six children returning to the Catholic Church, two of them being baptised, four of them receiving the the Sacrament of Reconciliation for the first time and all of them receiving 1st Communion - God himself. If success is measured by mere numbers our visit to Las Lomas was a complete failure. However, I think there is more rejoicing in heaven over these six children who received Christ than than the 20 whose parents decided not to return to the Catholic Church.

Unfortunately the Las Lomas situation is now a common occurrence. We find these false prophets and ex-priests in many neighborhoods, in hospitals, and reception halls enticing families with convenient and cheap "sacraments" whenever and however they want them. One can even find a "priest" in a local paper offering to celebrate the Sacraments in homes and wherever else the family desires.

Today we celebrate that a few parents have chosen truth over convenience and most of all that 6 children received the greatest gift of all: God who is love and who has given himself to his children through baptism, Reconciliation and Eucharist.

Running with Characters

Despite being undertrained and undermotived I managed to wake up at 4:45am on August 31 to run the Disneyland Half Marathon with 10,800 other people. After a quick breakfast and some stretching I headed to the "Magic Kingdom". It took about 20 minutes to park since everyone was trying to arrive in time for the 6am start. I arrived at the starting line just in time. Surrounded by people of various ages, sizes, and shapes, my goal was to finish under 3 hours although I had finished my previous two races in 2hrs 20min.

A good number of the runners were predicatably dressed up as various Disney characters. Ever see Mickey run 13.1 miles before? I'm not much of a Disney fan so running through Disneyland didn't do much for me but after running through the city streets and around the Honda Center we finally got to run around The Big A at Angel's stadium.

Its hard to explain how much it helps to run with other people. I usually run alone so being surrounded by thousands of other people helped me to keep going and going and going even while my mind and body are making great arguments for stopping.

Not being prepared to run 13 miles can cause injuries so I needed to walk the line of being smart but also pushing it. I walked 3 separate times during the race for a total of 1.5 miles. At mile eleven I told myself I was going to run the last 2.1 miles. I was determined but at miles 12 my body was wasn't. Although we were back at Disneyland I was far from the "happiest place on earth".

The crowd of spectators thickened - a sure sign that the end was near. I started to run so slow I wondered if walking would really make much of a difference. But it wasn't about time it was about running, running till the end. The last 1/10 of a mile wouldn't end. Finally I saw the finish line and ran as fast as my body would let me. 2 hours and 33 minutes. I couldn't believe it.

Running isn't about winning. In fact, I came in 5,556th place. It was the slowest of my 3 half marathons but I had to work harder for each of these 13 miles than the others. I ceremoniously hung the bib and finisher's medal on my bulletin board in my office, took a bath in ice and celebrated a couple of Masses.

Here is a link with some more pictures of the race: http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=31324&BIB=2996&S=230&PWD=

Here is a link to a funny commercial for Nike. This is NOT why I run. I promise!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkDI5xVa354

Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win. Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified. (1 Cor 9:24-27)

'House' for Sale

I don't have a T.V. show that I watch regularly. This is due to the fact that my schedule is different each night, I'm too lazy to put a cassette tape in the VCR and suffer through the humiliation and frustration of trying to find out how to record and, finally, because there is not much on TV anyway.

I recently was surprised that I had a night free and made a trip to Blockbuster to find what many find there - nothing. Out of desperation and trying to find a way to salvage the 5 minute mission to Blockbuster I ran across DVDs for various television shows. I saw House, MD, a show I had seen a few times and liked a lot. I rented the DVD that contained about 5 episodes.

Dr. House is a physician who is well known as one of the best diagnostic doctors. Don't know what's wrong with someone? Send them to Dr. House but beware. Dr. House is equally known for his incredible and unforgiving sarcasm - enormously comical if you are watching it on TV, destructive if you are on the receiving end.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first two episodes which I watched back to back. Because it is commercial-free one episode lasts 42 minutes instead of 60. I found myself during the day wanting to watch the remaining three episodes ASAP. I finished them the following day. There was one episode that involved a case of euthanasia. Dr. House's sarcasm made it impossible to know how he really felt about it. In the end the patient was euthanized but no one knew for sure who did it, however all evidence pointed to someone on House's staff of three doctors. The episode ended with House approaching one of his doctors who was in the chapel crying the next morning. He put his hand on her shoulder and said "I'm proud of you". Did the show I was enjoying just endorse euthanasia? Well, I told myself, it was ambiguous and it was just an episode.

I soon rented two more videos which contained the last 10 episodes of the season. Vacation was quickly approaching, I had got sucked into the series, and had the time to watch them.

Over the course of two weeks I watched the whole series, about 15 episodes and I learned a valuable lesson from this rare experience. Too much of anything too soon was not good for me. The sarcasm, once funny, was annoying and even depressing. I discovered that although I was only a viewer I felt like I was also on the receiving end of the sarcasm. There was another episode where House told a patient exactly how to kill himself while not damaging his organs so that he could donate his heart to his son. What was once funny and entertaining had irritated me and I found myself feeling a little mad that a series I was enjoying had left me warn out and worn down by its constant degrading sarcasm and a culture of death that often peaked its ugly head under the mask of humor and compassion.

I know its a show and not reality but its effect on me was undeniably real and even physical. I could feel it. Something fictional that I had watched had a nonfictional effect that was not pleasant. Too much House too soon was a bad thing! Too much of anything is a bad thing. Balance is so important, much like a diet.

However, having seen one full season in its entirety without much interruption I wonder if the problem wasn't just too much too soon but the show itself. Was the show OK in small doses or was it a bad show -one that leads us away from God- that in small doses simply doesn't show its negative side effects? I don't know. On a moral level we would never knowingly do something wrong and try to justify by saying that it would be OK so long as we only did it a little or did something good later to "balance it out". It doesn't work that way.

When we watch one show once a week for 15 weeks or so we don't know where the show is going. That would be boring. We wonder what's going to happen next and that wonder tempts us to tune in the next week. We also don't get the 'big picture' by watching week to week; rather, it unfolds with the season. Also, anything we watch on T.V is often balanced with other entertainment - sports, books, etc...- and so its effects aren't usually felt too strongly. I experienced a full season of House, M.D. almost interrupted; I saw the big picture, and while it was attractive in small pieces its was ugle when I sttod back and looked at it in its entirety. Like going to an art museum I think the only way you can really see a painting is by standing back a little to allow the eyes to capture whole picute. If you stand to close you see paint not a picture. House was full of great paint but the picture was disformed.

Where does this show fit in? I don't know.

Will I watch House, M.D. again? I don't know. For now, I've overdosed. I doubt I'll ever watch a full season of any T.V. series so quickly again.

If the old saying "an apple a day keeps the doctor away" were true my mouth would be full of them (green ones). Perhaps the annual doctor visit is not a bad idea after all.

"My house shall be called a house of prayer" - Isaiah 56:7

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the holy Spirit within you"
- 1 Cor 6:19

What? I'm Catholic!!!

God continues to teach us through our young ones.

Last week my 8 year-old nephew/godson Patrick was in a community pool with his grandma practicing his newly acquired swimming skills. As he practiced his kicking in the water the boy next to him became annoyed, perhaps a bit scared, and said to Patrick "move over you're going to hurt me". Patrick was horrified by the accusation and without thought or hesitation responded "what? I'm Catholic".

Can you imagine that scene?

If only our faith was so deep? That being both a Christian and hurting someone would seem equally ridiculous and unimaginable to us! Its obvious Patrick's response was not something taught, memorized and repeated but came from a faith that is both child-like and incredibly mature.

I'm going to pray tonight that I might grow up to be as Catholic as Patrick is.

Me Levante Con El Pie Izquierdo

Not long ago I had a string of days where I woke up feeling bla, gloomy, and even moody. I didn't feel like getting out of bed and I kinda wished no one else would either. I would have loved to take a "personal day" but I don't have personal days. I felt like calling in (downstairs) sick but I wasn't sick, I just had the blues. I love listening to the blues but I had having them. I didn't feel like exercising, going out...nothing!

I struck me it was time to suck it up and be an adult. I thought of the moms and dads, single parents and others who have to get up under horrible and heroic circumstances to provide for their families. There is no calling in sick or taking a personal day because that means no food on the table. I don't mean to be over dramatic but it is a reality that is more common than we'd like to think.

So I go up and "celebrated" 7:45am Mass, preached and returned to the office. I could have sat at my desk all day. There was nothing so urgent that couldn't wait unto tomorrow but there were things to do, as always. I picked myself up and tried to hide my feeling-sorry-for-myself mood. I went and visited an elderly couple in their home who had requested a visit and the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick. They are both dying. Her fight for cancer is over. The doctors have taken her off of all medications and is letting time - and cancer - do its thing. Her husband is dying slower. I could feel their love for each other; there was so much that they wanted but couldn't talk about, namely her death. We talked about it; they cried.

I had them move so that they were sitting close together and we reverently, slowly, and deeply prayed. We listened to the Gospel recognizing that Jesus was speaking to us, they closed their eyes for the laying on of hands, recognizing that Jesus was laying his hands on them. They listened carefully as they each were anointed on the forehead and the palms of their hands. Finally, I asked them to hold hands as we prayed the Our Father. I blessed them and left.

I have anointed countless people; the ritual is the same, people are often elderly and dying. Yet, on this day I felt God ministering to me as he ministered to them. I was receiving as I was giving. I too had encountered and received God, not in a sacramental way, but in an unforgettable way.

I then headed off to a convalescent home. Note, this is not the first place one would want to go when experiencing the doldrums and yet this is where I needed to go. I spent an hour there going room to room. I smiled, blessed, caressed, and talked to people. They looked how I felt. Next, I drove down the street to another convalescent home that we minister to. Wheelchairs filled the hallways, heads slumped, some groaning, others just starring at nothing. I stopped and spoke with most of them and went through many of the rooms talking to people. I joked with them, sat with them and encouraged them to pray and watch Angel's baseball.

Nothing extraordinary happened; I was still feeling like I was moving in slow motion but I had just spent 3 hours visiting sick people. I did what I should have done, I did what so many people have to do every day with harder work and longer hours. Somehow I felt satisfied.

In Spanish they say "me levante con el pie izquierdo", which means to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. My left foot (el pie izquierdo) was tired by the end of the week. I was encouraged by the example of Mother Teresa - to smile and serve even when you feel like pulling the sheets over your head and hiding.

Recommendations for getting through "the blues":

1. Get out of bed
2. Pray
3. Serve
4. Have a nice dinner and a glass of wine (or Guinness - adults only) with friends
5. Listen to music you like
6. Play an instrument
7. Call a friend
8. Offer it as a spiritual gift for someone else who is suffering
9. Know that it will end

You're Welcome

I received the following "Thank You" cards from some children who recently received their first Communion.


Letter #1: "Who would have thought?"

Response: Yes, I have been attending Mass lately. Thank you for noticing. Apparently, you have too.



Letter #2 "Bad Taste?"
Response: No offense taken.



Letter #3 "Priceless"

Response: Dear Ashely:

I'm not sure where to start! Here I go:

You're very welcome... I'm glad to hear that you already have a Dad and I'm sure he's wonderful. However, I am a priest so feel free to call me "Father". I do not have children or a dog, however, because I am priest I am called to love and serve everyone as God's children just as a good Father would do. I did have a dog I liked a lot called Whiskey. Like your goldfish, he died too. Ashley, I will die some day but I will be with Our Father and I'll be OK.

Love,

Fr. Brendan

The following letter is from an 8th grader letting me know he is praying for me while I am on retreat with the other priests from the diocese. He's got some questions, of course.

Response: Dear 8th grader. Thank you for your prayers. No we don't chase each other or play tag, there are no bible games and, therefore, no prizes to hand out and no one even brings their "priestly garb". We are dressed in casual clothes - usually shorts and a regular shirt or T-shirt. Yes, even the bishops. The day begins with morning prayer followed by breakfast. At about 8:30am we we have a guest speaker who talks to us about different elements of priesthood and how to become a better Christian. We have lunch and then about 3 hours of free time. Some priests play golf, others tennis, jogging, some take a nap and read, and many swam and relaxed in the pool. No there were not wearing their priestly garb; they were wearing swimming shorts. In the evening we have Mass, dinner, another talk and then we just hang out and talk.

I understand why its hard to imagine priests not wearing their clerics, as we call them, but you probably see priests all the time wearing regular clothes but you don't recognize them because we look like everyone else. We are human, after all.

-Fr. Brendan

PS. I'm wearing shorts and a tank-top (no shoes).

Future Priests?

Where will the new priests come from? Our homes, our parishes. Over the last couple of months I have encountered God's undeniable working in the young of our parish. When I say young I am talking about 7-10 year-olds. Now the cynic may write off anything a 7 year-old says as being the dreamy talk of children. I remember being 7 myself. At one point I wanted to be a truck driver just like my uncle.. I would sit on my bed with my improvised walkee-talkie and invisible steering wheel. However, the two strong desires that drove me at that age were to be a soccer player and a priest. Not one or the other, but both. Because I have already blogged earlier about this I'll spare you the details again but it is important to note that God speaks to us through our desires, talents, and passions even in our childhood. Naturally theses desires need to be discerned but never dismissed.

Recently I heard the confession of a young boy. While he was confessing it crossed my mind to ask him to be open to a vocation to the priesthood. It had nothing to do with his confession, it just entered my mind as clearly as could be. As he finished he confession he got up to leave and then sat down right away and I said "can I ask you something?" I responded "You want to ask me about the priesthood, don't you". He was stunned and said "how did you know?"

God speaks to us, within us, but also through one another. Let's listen carefully.

One of my nephews is incredible conscious of God, loves to read about Him, asks great questions and has a sense of how close God is to him. His joy at receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation and First Communion was divine. Like many children he was worried he would say or do something wrong but more than anything he was excited. I went with him and his parents to his first reconciliation/confession. He wanted to make sure we got there really early. When his dad asked him were he wanted to sit he lead us to the front pew, right in front. As you might imagine there weren't many families positioning for the front pews. We sat alone for quite some time until the pews and the whole church filled up. When it was time for confession he jumped up and was first in line.

The day before Easter my nephew asked his dad if they could go to the sunrise service at 6am for Easter! His dad told him that if he woke up and got ready in time they would go. My brother was a bit surprised when his son woke him up and said "let's go dad". And so they went. He also likes reading a kid's Mass missal, Magnifikid, on the way to Church. He looks over the prayers and readings and lets his Dad know if there are any discrepancies between the missal and what is being said at Mass.

The third example of a possible priestly vocation took place during a tour of the Church I was giving to children preparing to receive First Communion. I showed and explained the different things we use for Mass and asked and answered questions. After the 60 kids were dismissed there was boy who stood in front of the altar with a troubled look on his face. You know the kind: his forehead was wrinkled, he eyes were purposefully pointed up at me with his hands firmly planted in his pockets. As his teacher stood at a distance I said "Hi, do you have a question?" He said how do you preach?" I was sure I misheard him and so I asked him to repeat his question. To my surprise I had heard him correctly. I was as puzzled as he was troubled and I asked him "Do you need to preach"? He said "I'm scared of preaching and if can't preach I can't become a priest" Wow! I bent down and told him "I'm scared when I preach too! What I do is pray first and ask God to let me hear what he wants to say to me and to those who will attend Mass. I read the readings prayfuly, then study them and finally start to write what I am going to say. Don't worry", I told him, "Jesus told us not to worry about what to say because he would send us the Holy Spirit who would help us know what to say" The boy looked a little relieved, said thanks, and walked away with his teacher. His forehead wrinkles had subsided a little but I could tell he was thinking it over deeply.

Will these boys become priests? Only God knows. When I was 7 I thought I would be a priest, from 16-25 years old I would have laughed and now at 36 and I am still amazed that I am a priest. God speaks to us and to our kids and places a seed, a desire in us that needs to mature and be nourished through prayer - both listening and speaking to God - and an encouraging Christian environment especially at home.

It seems to me that children are actually great listeners! Let's listen to them and help them respond to God's call.

Pray for vocations and support them at home and at your parish.

Pray for us Now and at the Hour of our Death. Amen!

Walking with someone through the last moments of their life is a fairly rare occurrence, unless you're a priest that is. Death does not always give due notice and so it often catches many by surprise although, paradoxically, it is one of those very few things in life we know will happen. Perhaps we will be able to say that final goodbye to one of our parents or loved ones but certainly not all of them. It is the "when" that catches us by surprise, of course, not death itself. And so it is a special grace for the one dying and their loved ones to have some proximate warning that he or she is dying so as to prepare as best as one can.

How many times have we prayed to Mary: "pray for us now and at the hour of our death"? She certainly assists us now and will do so at the hour of our death whether this comes suddenly and without warning or is somewhat anticipated. Nonetheless, what a blessing it is to have the grace to prepare oneself to meet Christ face to face at the moment of death. I would like to share just one of those moments with you.

On a day not long ago I received 2 messages within a very short amount of time. Written on red paper to indicate a "sick call" I looked at them and they were both said urgent "not sure how long he will live". I went to the first house. It was man I had anointed about 6 weeks earlier. I remembered him because there was something very dignified yet simple about him. He didn't have the sophisticated look of a rich man but of a man full of virtue. As the message indicated, he didn't look well. His eyes were half open at best. He sat in his chair noticeably uncomfortable as he repeatedly tried to reposition himself although he didn't have the strength even to budge. He slowly mumbled out the words that he was dying. When I asked him how he felt when he thought about dying he said "happy". This wasn't the "happy" of a desperate or bitter man who had given up his struggle to fight on. Rather, his was a "happy" of man who knew where, or rather, to Whom he was going. I didn't need to ask him to explain.

As I prepared to administer the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, probably his last time, I told him not to worry about making the sign of the cross or trying to say the responses. Instead, "your heart can do the talking", I told him. His care giver was in the room, a woman in her 40's. I began: "The grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you". After a pause, he gathered up his energy and breathed out "and also with you". I wasn't about to tell not to talk. I spoke to him about the grace of the sacrament, how it was Christ himself who was lying hands on him and anointing him through me. I mentioned that all of his sin were forgiven and through the prayer of Apostolic Pardon all debt due to sin loosed. In others words, our Lord had come to get him himself, maybe today maybe in 10 years but he's good and ready.

At the end of the rite of anointing I said "let us pray in the words Christ taught us". As I began the Our Father I realized he was once again gathering his strength to join his voice to mine. I waited and we slowly continued together and prayed the Our Father to our Father.

That is dying with dignity. It has nothing to do with the suffering, the tubes and the like, it has to do with the man connected to them.

I realized it had been a half hour and that I had another man gravely ill to anoint. I arrived at his house within 5 minutes and meet several people inside. Two of his daughters, 3 other younger relatives, a hospice worker, and nurse were waiting for me. I entered the room with the family, pulled up a chair next the man lying in his bed with his oxygen mask. His breathing was deep and intermittent. He was struggling to breath, gasping. It didn't take a medical degree to realize death was quickly approaching.

I asked the family if their dad was responsive and they said "no", that he didn't make any physical movements or reactions to their words. I told them that while his body may not be responding he very well might be quite conscious nonetheless. Sitting in the chair next to the man I held his hand and introduced myself to him. "Hi, 'Jim', I am Fr. Brendan from Our Lady of Guadalupe Church and I have to come anoint you and prepare you for God." Then, I invited the family to participate with me in praying the Rite of Anointing of the Sick. All of us slowly and solemnly made the sign as if we were learning how for the first time. I turned to the side and greeted the Italian family who energetically responded "And also with you". Next I encouraged the dying man and the family to join me in calling to mind our sins and ask for God's mercy. Once again they actively responded..."Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy".

...And the man stopped breathing.

The daughters let out a big sigh. "Oh my God, he stopped breathing" As they called in the nurse I immediately stood up, leaned over the man and anointed him while praying the formula of anointing: Through this holy anointing, may our Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. Amen. So that freed from sin he may save you and raise you us. Amen" Just then the nurse rushed in, listed to his heart with her stethoscope and gave me that infamous look you see on TV where they just shake their head once very slowly without saying anything.

The first thing I remember hearing from one of the daughters is "Thank you, thank you Jesus". The other daughter then echoed the same prayer. I understood. This was exactly my first words when my grandma died. Perhaps their reasons were a little different than mine but I understood. The told me several times within the next 10 minutes how grateful they were that a priest come and anointed their father. I, in turn, thanked them for calling me. It was an emotional time for me too. I was caught up in it all myself.

I sat back down in the chair after the nurse noted the time of death and the initial shock of the family passed. Once again, I invited the family to continue to pray with me for their father. We continued with the beautiful prayers for the dead. It reminded me that death is a passage, something more profound and personal than the time of death. This was Jim's passover and we were going to join him as much as we could through prayer. We invoked the saints, we gave thanks, and commended to him to God.

What a beautiful death!

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen!

Ghostbusters 101

I don't know if I was "sick" the day they taught us about ghosts in the seminary but I found myself ill-prepared the first time I was called to a house because they said they had a ghost. Ummm, OK. Do I grab a bible, rosary, holy water, is there a special prayer for Ghosts somewhere? Should I look under "G" for ghosts or "S" for spirits? What a minute! Do ghosts exist?

I had never given much thought about the existence of Ghosts before. I suppose my philosophy was: as long as they don't bother me I don't care too much whether or not they exist". Now that I am a priest the question has been forced upon me. I can't stand in the shadows and be nonchalant about it. People have called me at least a dozen times in the last year and half to do something.

Is there a ghost litmus test that I can give so that I can know whether there really is a ghost in their house? Wouldn't that be great? "Sorry, ma'am the test came back negative. No ghosts here" Or "Yes, my analysis shows there is ghost. Now I will......" What; what will I do?

Here is my first memorable ghost story:

At a catholic school function a parent I knew told me she had a ghost in her house. She seemed like a "normal", rational person, no more crazy than myself. The woman told me that the spirit didn't appear to be dangerous but there was no doubt that a ghost was in their house. Her husband, children, and neighbors had all experienced things moving, lights be turned off or on, strange sounds and the like. I thought nothing of this. I had no opinion on ghosts. I neither believed nor disbelieved in them...until this night.

I agreed to go over to their house that night with another family and some friends of theirs. After some social time we decided to address this ghost situation. The family told me that the previous owner was a women who lived there for many years and loved hosting parties in her home. Furthermore, the ghost seemed to always be present in or around the dining room. So, we gathered around the dinning room in a circle. There were about 12 of us. The lady next to be said "let's join hands". I immediately responded "No! This isn't a seance; we're going to prayer to God".

Not having any idea what to do, no text, no ritual - I prayed something like this: "God of love, you created us in your own image and likeness and you call us to yourself. I ask you to call your servant home to you now. Mary (the former owner and supposed ghost) don't be afraid of God. God is love and he calls you home. Let go of whatever is keeping you here. What awaits you is a God of love and mercy. Trust is him and go home. Leave this house now and let this family live her in peace. In name of Jesus leave this home and return to the God who created you."

Next, I asked for a bowl with water, blessed it, and went around the house blessing each room. As soon as I began I was so cold that I couldn't keep the water from spilling out of the bowl. I was shivering. I thought NOTHING of it, understandably assumed I was just really cold. After blessing the rooms we all returned to the dinning room for a final prayer. It was then that I looked at the lady to my left who owned the house. She was wearing a sleeveless dress. It immediately caught my attention and so I asked her "aren't you cold?" She said "no". I said, "I am freezing".

I left soon after the final prayer and when I got into my car I remembered that that this freezing sensation is often associated with ghosts. Was it a ghost? I don't know. However, the family tells me that they haven't experienced the ghost sense the blessing.

There are have been a couple of other ghost experiences that seemed really credible. What I do know is that God is more powerful than anything we will ever encounter. For that reason I have not been afraid at all. I don't come with my power but with faith and the power of God, the intercession of his mother, the saints, and the gift of my baptism and ordination.

I should add that I have never experienced anything that I would describe as demonic. That would be a different story completely.

What dumbfounds me are the countless calls that I receive from Latinos who tell me that they have a ghost in their house, they've seen a demon, or there's a shadow following them or their children. I never want to be cynical but the calls are so common and the stories so odd. Is it superstition or a psychological manifestation of some other problem? These calls are usually masked under the question "Can you bless my house". After a year or so of priesthood I have finally smartened up enough to ask them if they have just moved into their house or apartment and they almost always tell me "no". Then I ask them why they want their home blessed and they always tell me because they "see things" or something strange in going on in their house. Errrrrrrrr.

My next move is to ask them if they are baptized, go to Mass on Sunday's, have gone to confession recently and pray daily. The answer is usually "no". I also ask if anyone in the family is involved in superstition, palm readers, witch doctors (not uncommon among Latinos) and the like. As any good doctor would do I assign a healthy spiritual diet of the sacraments and prayer for 3 months and tell them to give me a call back if the problem continues. The medicine seems to be working.

Back to the issue - why all the sightings? Why are they almost all Latinos? One of the common things that several families have described to me is the experience of being held down in bed as if someone was sitting on their chest. They tell me they can't move and can hardly breath. After so many calls like this the similarity interests me and at times frustrates me. More than anything I wish to understand better so that I can serve these people better.

What do you think?

Recent Sightings

Well, I thought I'd touch base and share some recent sights and perhaps even insights.

Lessons from a Funeral

One sight that has not left my mind comes from the funeral from a 10 year-old: the face of the grieving young mother. This was her baby. I remember the the pall bearers unfolding the pall over the casket as is always done only to realize that the coffin was too small for the pall - they couldn't unfold it all the way. The sight of the small coffin remains in my mind even now. An important insight came from all of this. After blessing the body at the beginning of Mass I led the procession into the chapel. As I help my head up I noticed that I was leading the procession of crying friends and family to the altar and towards the large beautiful bronze crucifix that hung behind it. It was as we were walking toward Jesus Christ himself to present the dead child - his child - to him. Like the dead the Lazarus, there appeared to be no hope, nothing to pray for. "[Lazarus] has been dead 4 days already", Mary said to Jesus. What could Jesus do? He raised him from the dead. So too, this same Jesus reminded me during that short procession that we were truly walking toward him with his child and that, despite all appearances, she too would be called out from the dead into everlasting life. Life for this child did not end with death because Jesus destroyed death by his dying and rising.

Confession with a Twist

A priest recently had a startling experience while hearing the 1st confession of a child. After hearing the boy's confession the priest gave the child his penance, bowed his head, closed his eyes, raised his hand in blessing and prayed the formula of absolution: "God the Father of mercies, through the death...." !SLAP! The priest was startled as his hand was slapped. It turns out the boy didn't know what to make of the priest's hand hanging up in the air like that so he figured the priest wanted a "high 5". He got one!

My Condolences!

From time to time the phone messages really pile up. Funerals, counseling, weddings, quinceaneras, etc... The cycle continues as the game of phone tag ensues as new messages and visitors come in. I hope you can understand how I might get things mixed up from time to time. I called Mary (names are changed for confidentiality) to offer my condolences over the loss of her father and to help make funeral arraignments for the Mass. This was very much on my mind during the day. Finally, Mary called back later in the day and said "hi, Father, you called me?" "Yes, I said, I was calling to assist you the arraignments for Mass?" She paused and responded somewhat harshly "arraignments? that sounds pretty morbid!" I said "well, yes its a funeral". She stumbled over her words and finally spit out "what? I'm getting married!" Opps. Apparently, this was a different Mary.

What did you call me?

True Story: A priest-friend in New England was going through the newness of his first year as a priest. He was nervous. He had been told about the large crowds that would be attending the Ash Wednesday services - his first as a priest - and wanted to make sure he was well prepared. Mass was a prayerful experience all was going well until the blessing of the ashes. Father stood up and invited everyone else to do the same. He approached the ashes and in a confident voice and holy water in hand he said "Heavenly Father please bless these Ashes", except he missed the "h".

Focus, Father

On Sunday or Monday I read through all the readings for coming weekday Masses. Then, the night before, I read the readings for the Mass of the following day and begin to put some ideas together for a homily. When I get up in the morning I think and pray about the readings as I shave, shower, and get dressed. At times I get a little too caught up in my reflections. Recently, at the end of my morning routine I was tying my first shoe when I realized I had forgotten to put my pants on. Boy, that would have woken everyone up for the 6:15am Mass!

A Tough Morning!

On a recent day off I slept in until 7:30am, prayed and went out for a nice leisurely breakfast while reading the paper and sipping on my third cup of coffee. Next, I went to a driving range and hit some balls for about 45minutes. (not pretty) The next stop was Best Buy to see how I could spend my $50 gift card that I received for Christmas. Well, after getting home at about 11am. I looked in the mirror - something I should have done earlier apparently - and found my zipper WIDE open and a little gift from a bird on my shirt. Yes, that's right. Somehow, I managed to get...pooped on without even noticing it -right over the Angel's logo on my shirt!

It's not always a pretty sight my friends!

Valuable Kisses on Valentine's Day

It seems that somewhere around January, soon after New Year’s Day, the Valentine’s Day decorations went up. Oh the thrill of it all (sarcasm intended)! As a priest who has made a promise of celibacy for the sake of the gospel (Cf. Mt 19:12) the thought of Valentine’s Day just didn’t get me all…well you know. Although the day is named after, or attributed to, a real person – St. Valentine, there is not a liturgical celebration of St. Valentine as there is for St. Ann or St. Terese. In other words, there is no mention or reference of St. Valentine in our prayers for Mass that day. Moreover, because Valentine or Valentinus was such a popular name and due to the 1500 years of development in the celebration of the day there is not too much certainty about who exactly this particular Valentine is that we celebrate.

I realize that the majority of people who went shopping for Valentine’s Day were not walking around the malls equally troubled by this question as I was. In fact, I would guess most didn’t realize that it is a day to glorify God and celebrate the holiness of a real Catholic martyr. At least with St. Patrick’s Day I can make an attempt to remind and refocus people on who this person was, why he is a saint and what St. Patrick means for us in the year 2008. But how can I celebrate St. Valentine’s Day as a celibate priest with little knowledge of who Valentine was? Although the idea of completely blowing off St. Valentines as a greedy scheme for businesses to make more money was tempting I felt somehow I’d be missing out on something valuable. As I sat down and ate some of those colorful tiny heart-shaped candies that read “Be my Valentine” I did some thinking.

Valentine was a popular Roman name that means worthy or valuable (valor, vale la pena,) Names are very important like Immanuel (God-with-us) or Jesus (God saves). “Love” is also a powerful and important word and rightly used more reservedly in other languages than in English. For example, McDonald’s has the slogan “I love McDonald’s”. This is not translated Yo Amo (love)…but rather, me encanta McDonald’s. While the meaning is very similar it guards or reserves the word “love” or “amar” to very close relationships between people (not hamburgers and fries – though those fries are gooooood).

It is believed that St. Valentine was a 5th century martyr. What makes this difficult is that there were a lot of Christian martyrs during this time and many were named Valentine. Although this uncertainty rattled my scrupulous mind at first it also led me to find the real heart of St. Valentine’s Day. A martyr is someone who gives his life – his whole life - for another, namely Christ. Jesus - God saves - is the King of Martyrs. He lived up to his God-given name. He saved us by dying for us. Jesus himself said “there is no greater love than to lay down your life for your friends” (Cf. Jn 15:13). And while it is easy and of no credit to us to love those love us (Cf. Jn 6:32) it isn’t as easy to die for them whether by the little sacrifices daily life asks of us or the ultimate gift of one’s life.

Jesus, St. Valentine and all martyrs by that or any other name lived up to their name and showed us true love. “For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.” (Wis 3) “They were found worthy”, that is, they were true Valentines. Jesus, St. Valentine, and all the martyrs give us a model and the gift of true love.

On February 14th I was caught up in gazing at the heart of my claddagh ring which I bought in Claddagh, Ireland, weeks after my ordination to the priesthood. I didn’t want a wedding band but I did want something to reflect my consecration to Jesus and his Church. Reflecting on the heart of the ring with the heart turned inward to show that my heart is spoken for I was reminded that when I made a life-long promise of celibacy I did so because I was invited to do so by a living and personal God. I most certainly did not decide to say yes to celibacy because it’s a requirement of Catholic priests. That wasn’t good enough for me – not even close. (I’m not totally crazy!) I said yes because I wanted more, not less, and I felt called to trust that celibacy would open up a unique door to true love, a personal warm love worthy of giving up a wife and family. This invitation to celibacy didn’t come by way of a sweet heart-shaped candy or a box of chocolates but it truly was and is a call – a vocation. St. Valentine’s Day reminded me that I have a living and true Valentine who is truly worthy of love. And what a promise he has made to me: Jesus said, "Amen, I say to you, [Brendan], there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age… and eternal life in the age to come” Mk 10:28). Celibacy is certainly worth it.

Mass on St. Valentine's Day began like every other Mass: I processed in, approached the altar and…oh yeah, I kiss the altar. This is no mere ritualistic gesture. Before even saying a word the priest begins by kissing the altar. But the kissing is far from over. After reading the Gospel the priest again kisses the book of the Gospels saying inaudibly “May the words of the Gospel wash away our sins”. Why a priest does this would give us hours and hours of material for reflection and prayer. Before receiving Communion we also offer one another the "kiss of peace" which generally means a handshake or hug. Simple though this may be it is an expression of selfless love. Finally, after I gave the final blessing and proclaimed those well known words “Mass has ended, go in peace” a fourth kiss, once again on the altar. After Mass, I took off my stole and kissed the cross embroidered on it. The greatest form of worship and love begins and ends with a kiss. What a great model to follow in our own lives.

Looking for true love? Love Christ. Be a saint.

Your Valentine,

Brendan