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.
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!
5 comments:
My Priest
By: Tyler J. Milliken
My priest loves to pray
And I like to play
I listen to his Homily
He’s part of my family
His baseball team is The Angels
He is my angel
He is my ROCK
He’s good in bowling and he rocks
He’s my favorite priest for life
That’s right!
My priest name is Fr. Brendan
My new best friend
It took me just a second to figure out what "except he missed the h" meant. But burst out laughing once I did.
I was struggling with the "h" too. I kept thinking 'eavenly father? Then I busted up!
Please blog more often if you can. You have some great stories. You brought me laughter and tears in the same moment. We are the same age, almost exactly. I am thrilled that our generation is coming fully back home to the Church. Thank you for your vocation, Father. Thank you very, very much!
hi Father Brenden its be Jesus Pompa and little Brenden is here with me i just want to say that i love your blog it has so many coool stuff well i got to see ya at church!!!!!!!!!!!
well hey there father you might rememeber me i have talk to you about my problems at school and you gave more solutions to my problems and i love to talk to god in silence and you are the beeessteesst father and person i could talk my problems, with you are the first one that help me looking for god and not looking down.THANK YOU FATHER, GOD BLESS YOU
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