A Beautiful Priest

This weekend we say good-bye at our parish, to our pastor, Father Tom Brown, who has served our parish for seven years, 2001-2003 and 2007-2012. The bishop of Grand Rapids has transferred him to a differernt parish within the diocese. This priest is the holiest priest I have ever known. Most of the parishioners love him very much and are very sad that he has been transferred. But, they realize that all priests must go where the bishop says. Father Brown is obedient to the bishop, which is one of his fine qualities. He is obedient to Rome and to his local bishop, and obeys without complaining, even though it is sometimes difficult for him to move when he loves his parishioners as his family.

The good things Father Tom has done for our parish are way too numerous to mention, but, I want to say a few. He allowed me to begin a youth group in our parish in 2001. We never had a youth group before, and now it flourishes under its second leader. He allowed a rosary and holy hour with adoration and benedication to happen every Wednesday night. While the rosary was prayed, he would go into the confessional and hear confessions. This developed into a Wednesday evening Mass with confessions. As the years went on, the line for confessions grew and grew. During lent the lines would sometimes be well past the length of the church. He added many additional evenings of confessions during lent and advent. Many returned to confession because Father Tom encouraged people to return to the sacrament and preached on the awesome mercy of God in this sacrament.

He almost never took a day off from work because he didn't consider his vocation "work." He was often heard saying, "I don't work. I love what I do. Does a mother take a day off from her vocation? Neither do I. I don't consider it work." Almost always if asked to celebrate a special Mass for a family event, or to add a holy event of some type for one group or another, he would say "yes." Several years in a row, he traveled an hour an a half to say a Mass in the woods for the youth group while they were on a camping trip, and to hear their confessions in the woods.

I myself was in a prayer group called God's Embrace. We met for three years of training in holiness and discipleship. Each of those three years we had four weekend retreats. Father Tom would come for each of those retreats on a Saturday night after his three parish Masses, and sometimes after a fourth wedding or funeral Mass, without taking time to eat, hear confessions for more than an hour and then say Mass for our group. We would end at 10 at night and he would then say he was ready to say another Mass if we wanted. This is how much he loved saying Mass.

Oftentimes if someone couldn't find a substitute to take their place during the middle of the night in the perpetual adoration chapel, Father Tom would gladly take the place of that person. He loved the Eucharist and didn't mind giving up his sleep to adore Jesus in the Eucharist.

When there was a boating accident and one of the Catholic high school students was missing, many students and parents from the school were waiting by the water's edge while the coast guard searched for her body after midnight one night. The atmosphere was sad and disturbed. I called Fr. Tom at the rectory and asked if he could come and be there to help the people spiritually. He came immediately. He spent part of the night talking with the people on the shore and the rest of the night comforting the rest of the teens who had been on the boats involved in the accident. My son was one of those teens. A few days later, after Mass, my son went up to him and thanked him for staying the night with them that night. It had been a great comfort to them all. He replied that he knew how it felt because when he was a kid, his brother was drowned in Lake Michigan, and he knew how horrible the feeling of waiting was. To me this was an incredible amount of personal pastoral care.

I can only hope and pray that God will continue to use this priest, Father Tom, to minister to his new and future parishioners as humbly and selflessly as he has to our parish. He is a true gift from God.

Lebanon

I will again be visiting Lebanon this summer, mainly to visit Karim and his family, but, also to visit my other friends there. My visit in the Middle East will be three weeks in August this time. I will also visit the country of Qatar, where my friend Charbel moved 2 years ago. I am excited for this because it is a new country for me to visit and I will meet new friends there. The only thing I am a little worried about is the heat. It will be over 110 degrees fahrenheit there in August. I do not do well in that hot weather, although, Charbel says we will spend most of the time inside in air conditioning. I look forward to visiting many sights in Lebanon that I have not yet seen, or that I was rushed through before when I visited them in 2007 and 2008. I am hoping my friend Issam, from Seattle, will be there at the same time as me, because if so, he promised to show me many lovely places in Lebanon and to explain the history there. We will stay overnight in a monastery in the Holy Valley one of the nights because he knows the monks well. I look forward to being able to spend time in prayer and not being rushed as I was before. It will be good to visit my little Karim again, too. I miss him a lot. I will take him with me to visit friends in Deir El Qamar. I will spend time with my many friends there, too. I can't wait to visit the shrine on the mountain again, and the church of Abouna Yaqqoub, have ice cream on the square, see Abete Marcel, and all the others I have missed. It will be like a homecoming to the country I feel is my second home.

Getting Old, Laura

Quietly I knocked on the door of her room, and heard no answer. The curtain was drawn all the way around her bed, so I peeked around and came into her solitude. There she lay, almost naked on her bed. Laura. Alone in her horrible world. No one to visit, no one to care. No one. I stepped closer and a little louder said her name, "Laura, it's me, Liz." She halfway opened her eyes and looked blankly at me. I could see every part of her body, for the sheet was entirely at the bottom of the bed, her nightgown was wrapped nearly up around her head, and her diaper wasn't even on well enough to catch anything, should she empty into it. I asked her if she was comfortable, or if she wanted me to cover her, and she wanted me to cover her, so I did. She said she was cold. She wanted a drink of water from the styrofoam cup that was out of reach from her on the bedside table. Someone had filled it for her, but moved it way out of her arm's reach. She drank probably half the cup. Who knows how long she had been thirsting. I gave her some dignity and covered her tired, hardly functional body with the sheet. She seemed to thank me with her halfway open eyes. I asked if she wanted me to read her the gospel and she smiled and responded a happy, "Yes." Laura was always eager to hear God's word. I knew her answer would be yes. It always was. I noticed the bruise marks on her arms. She has tender skin and bruises easily. In spite of her failing body, she is still a very pretty woman; a full head of white curly hair, very soft, pale skin and tender, loving blue eyes. I explained that it was Trinity Sunday and read the short gospel reading. Then I invited her to receive Holy Communion, which she was eager to receive, as always. After communion, I just had to stare at this pitiful human being, left alone to lie undignified in this empty room, uncovered, diaper half on, drink out of reach, until someone happened upon her. I stroked her soft, soft cheek and brushed the hair from off her face. I told her I loved her. I told her that God loved her and I prayed to each person of the Blessed Trinity to be with her and to keep her in His holy care. I also prayed to Mary to embrace this child of God and to extend her motherly care over her so that she would know her motherly love. I kissed her forehead before I left and told her I would be back next week. I left angry that once again a daughter was left poorly cared for. I wondered if I should say something or if that was my position or not. Or if my duty was just to pray for her and love her while I was visiting. I could bring her Jesus. I could bring her a few minutes of love. Was this all God wants me to do? How many Lauras are there? My heart breaks for them.