Moving

Moving is said to be one of life’s most stressful experiences – especially for us older people. Age surely adds to the stress, but I suspect the stress may be inherent, given what I believe must be a natural human desire for stability.

I’ve often wondered whether human beings may have been meant to remain permanently within walking distance of the place they were born. My guess is that our hunter-gatherer ancestors lived and died within a fairly confined territory, from which they emigrated most likely only under duress when pushed by stronger tribes invading their territory or other natural calamities. (And, in any case, when they moved they would have moved together as a group, not as we do now as isolated individuals). Theologically, there must be something one can make of the fact that the first individual move in history would have been by Cain, who “left the Lord’s presence and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden” (Genesis 4:16).

I recognize there are some more adventurous types who do not share my deep craving for stability. America, after all, was populated by immigrants (my own grandparents among them) who had the fortitude to get out of the situation they found themselves stuck in and go to someplace with greater opportunity. Once here, Americans have traditionally been a highly mobile people. Yet movement takes its toll on people and has undoubtedly exacted a severe price – not just on individuals but on our collective national experience. Our modern economy also encourages the greater movement of people and businesses, all of which presumably contributes to a more productive and more free economy.

On the other hand, my own personal experience and that of many others I have spoken to is that, especially in people-oriented professions, it takes a significant amount of time to hit one’s stride and become truly effective. Perhaps that is what underlies the traditional practice of the Church in formerly favoring life tenure for Bishops and Abbots. Canon Law (c. 522) also expresses a certain preference for pastors to be appointed for an indefinite term in order to possess stability in office. (That sounds a lot like our American system for federal judicial appointments). In the US, bishops are authorized to appoint pastors for a definite, but renewable term of 6 years, which I suspect may be common practice – 12 years widely being seen as the optimal term of service for a pastor. (In my case, since I am a member of a clerical society of apostolic life, to whose care the parish has been assigned by the local bishop, my initial term of appointment will be even shorter – just 4 years – in accordance with the constitution of my community).

Ministry in the Church has always entailed some degree of readiness to move – despite the difficulties moving inevitably creates for both individuals and communities. Jesus, himself, in the gospel account proclaimed just last Sunday (Luke 10:1-9) directed his disciples to go to every town and place to proclaim the kingdom of God. I have a particular fondness for that gospel account, among other reasons, because it was the one read at my ordination to the priesthood in Toronto in 1995. That ordination began several good and increasingly productive years of priestly ministry in the St. Peter’s community in Toronto, followed then by these incredibly blessed 10 years (now quickly coming to a close) as part of the St. Paul the Apostle parish community in New York. As I work my way through the physical stresses of packing and moving and the emotional stresses of saying good-bye to people, Jesus’ words to the 72 disciples and the privilege I have been given to share in their mission will I trust strengthen me to undertake my wonderful new assignment as a pastor with even greater enthusiasm.

1858-2010

Exactly 152 years ago this week, on July 7, 1858, Fathers Isaac Thomas Hecker, Augustine Hewitt, George Deshon, and Francis A. Baker signed the Programme of Rule and Constitution of the Congregation of Missionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle, thus creating the community commonly known ever since as The Paulist Fathers – the first men’s religious community founded in the United States. Three days later, on July 10, 1858, New York’s Archbishop John Hughes erected the parish of St. Paul the Apostle between Holy Cross Parish (founded 1852) and Annunciation Parish (1853) on the west side of Manhattan and assigned the pastoral care of this new parish to The Paulist Fathers. (The parish originally extended almost 3 miles north from 54th St. to 109th St. and 1 mile west from 6th Avenue to the river). Father Hecker became the first pastor, as well as superior of the new community. Hecker’s vision of the mission of The Paulist Fathers was a monumental one – the conversion of America to the truth of the Catholic Faith. He envisioned St. Paul the Apostle Parish as animated by that same mission, a vibrant Catholic parish reaching out to evangelize American culture locally in New York City, and a center from which The Paulist Fathers would reach out in mission to the entire country. It has been one of my greatest joys to have served at St. Paul the Apostle Parish these past 10 years and to be a part of how the vibrant parish of today has continued to live out the mission servant of God Isaac Hecker first set for it 152 years ago.

In 2008, both St. Paul the Apostle Parish and The Paulist Fathers celebrated their common 150th anniversary with a series of special parish events here at St. Paul’s and a great community convocation in Washington, DC. The anniversary began in a very special way for me with my appointment as Vice Postulator for the Canonization Cause of the Servant of God, Isaac Thomas Hecker, which then led to my being asked to edit Isaac Hecker for Every Day: Daily Thoughts from the Founder of the Paulists (Paulist Press, 2009). From my first encounter with Hecker’s story when I was discerning my vocation in 1981, I have been fascinated by his spiritual journey and how, having found in the Roman Catholic Church what he had been seeking, he devoted all his energy to sharing what he had found with this great country which he loved so much. Being Vice Postulator for Hecker’s Cause and editing that devotional book have enabled me to immerse myself more systematically in Hecker’s experience and spirituality. God willing, I hope down the road to be able to make my own written contribution to the study and appropriation of Hecker’s theology.

Citizens and Disciples

There are, I think, two quintessentially American holidays. Thanksgiving Day (in late autumn, after the harvest) looks inward to the heart and soul of America, and so is celebrated at home, at table, among family and friends. Independence Day (in summer) looks outward to the world of nations and states. It recalls when we, as a nation, in Thomas Jefferson’s words, assumed “among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them” – and so is celebrated (as John Adams said it should be) “by pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other.”

As citizens of the United States, we proudly celebrate our national day as Adams predicted we would. We honor our heritage, the great legacy left for us, often at great sacrifice, by generations of citizens past - immigrants to this great land - with whom we remain linked in a great social compact, bonded by history to one another, both past and present, for the sake of the future; and so we celebrate today our past national history, our present life together, and our hope for our common future. At the same time, we assemble today, as we do every Sunday, to profess our faith. “And the homily, as former US Senator from Missouri and an ordained Episcopal priest, Senator John Danforth, once said, “is the place to connect the two.”

But how to connect the two? In one sense, I suppose, the linkage may seem obvious. It may no longer be the case, perhaps, as it was in 1782 when Benjamin Franklin wrote, “that persons may live to a great age in [this] country, without ever having their piety shocked by meeting with either an Atheist or an Infidel.” Yet there is still no other Western country in which religion – and the Christian religion in particular – is so strong and vibrant as in America. Something like 90% of Americans claim they believe in God, and some 60% say religion is very important in their lives.

And, despite the determined efforts of some elite elements to exclude religion from public life, religious people continue to consider their beliefs important and to resist reducing them to some socially harmless private hobby. As that great observer of American democracy, Alexis de Tocqueville, wrote in 1835, a person “will endeavor … to harmonize the state in which he lives upon earth, with the state which he believes to await him in heaven.”

We Catholics, of course, have a long history (going back to the Roman Empire) of thinking about how to relate our faith to civil society – a long tradition of practical wisdom concerning social and political life. Today’s Gospel, however, highlights not our ordinary obligations as citizens, but our special duty as disciples, commissioned by Christ to evangelize the world – starting with ourselves and with the society in which we live and which we are committed to.

Jesus’ action in sending the 72 disciples as a kind of practice-run for what they would later be doing after his ascension reminds us that evangelizing, as Pope Paul VI famously expressed it in 1075, “constitutes the essential mission of the Church” – in every age and in every society.

Jesus, we are also told, sent the 72 in pairs – not as isolated individuals, but in pairs. One of the great things about this country is the value it places on our private, individual lives. But, like all good things, that can be overdone. Today’s Gospel reminds us that we are not isolated, individual selves, but a community of faith, formed by the Holy Spirit into one Church, the body of the Risen Christ, to continue his mission in every town and place. Jesus commanded his disciples to make a difference in their world. So, if we really mean what we say we believe, then what we do in our many relationships and multiple commitments – in our families, at work or school, in our society, and indeed in the wider world – must make a difference and be recognizable as such. In the kingdom of God’s great struggle against every evil that stands in the way, Jesus expects us to be on the same side with him – on the side of the kingdom of God. Being on God’s side, having our names written in heaven, frees us to join Jesus in making a real, recognizable difference in an always challenging, sometimes welcoming, but also sadly sometimes inhospitable world. It frees us to tell – and retell – the story of Jesus, to speak his word to any and all, so we too can say to this world we live in and love, “The kingdom of God is at hand for you.”

Homily at St. Paul the Apostle Church, NYC, July 4, 2010.

Independence Day

July 4 is noted as a day for fireworks and hot dogs. When I was a kid, my father and I used to go up to the roof of our Bronx apartment building to watch fireworks from whatever direction they might be seen. Later, I can remember attending Macy's famous fireworks on the Hudson River. Twenty-five years ago, I watched (through the fog) the fireworks by the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. In recent years, generally finding myself alone on such occasions, my fireworks watching has been mainly on TV. As for the hot dogs, I'm sure I miss the family Fourth-of-July cookouts much more than I've ever cared about the fireworks! This year, I'll be celebrating July 4 by flying from Knoxville to NY in the morning, hopefully getting home in plenty of time before the 5:15 p.m. Mass, after which I will probably end up either catching up on the Sunday Times, or reading Kristin Lavransdatter, or watching TV, So, no cook-out for me this year either!

July 4 also is - or at least ought to be - a good day to take stock of the state of our nation, now 234 years old. If anyone were tempted to doubt the greatness of this country, I suppose all he or she would need to do would be to ask some of the people from all over the world who are so eager to come here - as folks from all over the world (among them my own grandparents) have been as long as this country has been in existence. That having been said, it's hard to avoid also acknowledging that things could certainly be a lot better, and the prospects for our national life less promising than they might be.

To me the mess in the Gulf of Mexico sadly symbolizes the situation all too well. As a particular event, it has its specific causes for which responsibility may in the end be assigned. But the ultimate cause, of course, is our modern way of life and our lust for the resources that make it possible. Our apparently uncontrollable appetite for oil (preferable at the lowest possible price) has led us to a public policy impasse, while leaving us open to the kind of technological disaster that one probably could have expected sooner-or-later. In contrast to the "failure is no an option" attitude that seems to have characterized America once upon a time, today we face problems increasingly unresponsive to available solutions - a technological state of affairs which is sadly mirrored in our contemporary inability to deliberate and debate public policy issues as a nation of rational adults.

Well, that's the way it is (as an eminent newscaster whose career personified an earlier way of life and an older and better value system). Tomorrow is a day to celebrate (with fireworks and hotdogs) all that we have been and what we may hope yet to be. But after the fireworks have finished and the hot dos have been digested, we will need as a society to get serious again about making it really happen.

Visiting Knoxville

I arrived in Knoxville right around noon on Wednesday, June 30. Since then, it has been an almost steady round of meeting and greeting. Thursday, for example, began with a parish staff meeting, at which I got to meet and talk with all the members of the parish staff. That was followed by an ecumenical lunch meeting at another downtown site. Then the pastor, the associate pastor, and I walked to the 2 banks that handle the parish and Paulist accounts and spent an entertaining hour or more filling out forms and signature cards. While there, I took advantage of the opportunity to open a personal account for myself at First Tennessee Bank - one more step on my odyssey to becoming a Tennesseean! Next, the pastor and I paid a call at the neighboring parish, the parish within which our common school is located. After a pleasant conversation with the local pastor and greeting his associate, we returned home to the Paulist house for our community dinner. Then it was back to the church for an evening with the Parish Pastoral Council and the Parish Finance Council. This morning, the pastor and I visited the school and the Diocesan Chancery, after which we concelebrated the noon Mass in the parish church. Now, as the city's pace shifts into holiday weekend mode, I am sitting by myself in our Paulist house, reading the Diocesan Handbook.

Moving has to one of life's most highly stressful activities, especially for those of us who are older. As I look ahead to the physical stress of moving later this month and to all the emotional farewells that lie ahead, I am encouraged by what I have seen here - now that I have seen for myself what a great place I will be moving to, what wonderful people I will be working with, and what exciting and dynamic Paulist ministry I will be part of.