Snowing Lightly

I have returned to the retreat house after venturing forth on a few parish retreats. It is the first full day of spring and it is lightly snowing. Over the weekend, we had the nearest rotation of the moon in many years. The clear skies provided refined lighting on the placid ocean.

I traveled to two Maine parishes this week to give a parish retreat. At the Augusta parish, one woman said to her pastor, "he didn't give us fire and brimstone. He told us God is gentle and loves us." The pastor considered this a triumph.

The church in Maine is doing a remarkable job in light of their present reality. Essentially, two priests are covering seven parishes. They have an exhausting schedule. With only seven (or nine) seminarians, the outlook for retaining many parishes is dim. Young priests might question why they would enter into such an undertaking when many of the active priests are 8-10 years away from retirement. For many, it does not seem sustainable.

Remarkably, the spirit of the people is still strong. They still want a sacramental experience of God. Many of these people are an older crowd and demand will be much less in a few years. Fewer marriages are celebrated in the church; baptisms and funerals are still relatively high; confirmation has dropped in numbers.

The retreat was on "Beholding the reconciling Christ."

The other church was likewise remarkable. They have a vacant rectory and are not afforded daily Mass. They provide all the para-liturgical functions that a pastor once did. The laity run all church functions, like the St. Patrick's Day Dinner, the Friday-night Stations of the Cross, the RCIA and catechetical program, and spiritual counseling for others. The sister-church in the parish is 20 miles away. In the absence of a priest, the people are doing quite a good job in keeping their pastoral life vibrant.

I was pleased to attend a Stations of the Cross once again. I typically make this a private devotion, but there is something beautiful about doing it with many others. About thirty people prayed the stations while another six served as presiding ministers. I was well pleased.

The parishioners can talk with one another about their concerns. They grieve together; they hope they can get a priest some day; they realize they are lovable and that a pastor could/would love them too. In the end, they are actively acting as church. They have much beauty to them.

Now that I have returned from a week of ministering (Georgetown and two parishes in Maine), my body is telling me that I need rest. I have a cold and flu-like symptoms. I know I will recover quickly, but until then, I'm just sleeping, watching the light snow, and getting caught up on emails.