I attended a conference on Catholic preaching at Notre Dame this past week. Three hundred and sixty people gathered for the three day event. Bishops, priests, deacons and lay preachers gathered to hear thirty speakers. Holy Cross priests,  Bob Loughery,  Joe Corpora,  BIll Wack and I spoke on a panel about preaching among people living in poverty.

I was deeply moved listening to my Holy Cross brothers tell of their experiences of change, conversion and insights about their ministry of preaching among people surviving urban poverty in Arizona and Texas. I learned much about the ministry of the Word as well as their lives as priests and ministers.

I had the opportunity to meet many people and hear about their circumstances of ministry and their insights into the Word. I also caught up with old friends and told tales about years of friendship around ministry and the gospel. Mary Oliphant is a lay preacher and dear friend from my days in Chicago nearly 25 years ago. In this photo, Bob and Mary and I are attending the closing banquet just after our presentation.

I just received the July issue of Celebrate! Magazine. During this year, my column in the magazine is focusing on the new Prefaces of the new translation of the Roman Missal. Please read my latest article called, “Summoning us to glory”. 

Read my article, About My Father’s Business

This photo was taken on my ordination day, Saturday April 9, 1983. The article tells the story of how my father’s grocery business helped me prepare for ministry and priesthood. My parents are now deceased and I invite you to read this article about my father’s business on this Father’s Day.

I remember today an elderly woman from the front pew of my home parish when I was in high school. She was a stocky woman with tightly curled hair under a hair net and she walked with the aid of a cane. I remember her hobbling to her pew before the early morning Sunday Mass. She seemed feisty, assured of her place not just in the first pew in Mass, but in her life.  I do not remember her name.

I do remember her face fired up with faith. After Mass one day, she slowly walked up to me leaning on her cane carrying something in her hand. She handed me a devotional card of the Sacred Heart. She told me to pray the prayer on the reverse side every day. She told me she had heard that I was thinking of the seminary. The elderly woman of faith told me to carry the card in my wallet and to always rely on the Sacred Heart to get me through tough times. She handed me the card with great conviction, with the authority that not only did she have tough times in her life, but that she had relied on the Heart of Christ for healing and consolation. I never spoke with her again after that simple exchange.

I carried that card in my wallet until the devotional card completely disintegrated many years ago. I do remember the prayer. This is the prayer I pray today with a different yearning from my own heart. Now that I am an adult, well beyond the naive inklings of a vocation to priesthood, I understand the suffering and pain of my own heart and even more the ache of people who live in grief, who battle addictions and who make their homes outside. I now pray this prayer for people who feel they may never experience the consolation of love and forgiveness.

I joined the Congregation of Holy Cross that celebrates the Sacred Heart of Jesus as our patronal feast. Today, I remember the faith of an elderly woman in the front pew and I pray for every person whose burden rests in Christ. Even though I no longer carry the prayer in my wallet, I want to pass on the devotional prayer which now seems like a way of life.

Most Holy Heart of Jesus, fountain of every blessing, I adore you and with lively sorrow for my sins I offer you this poor heart of mine. Make me humble, patient, pure, and wholly obedient to your will. Grant, good Jesus, that I may live in you and for you; protect me in the midst of danger; comfort me in my afflictions. Give me health of body, assistance in my temporal needs, your blessing on all that I do, and the grace of a holy death. Amen

Thomas serves his homemade ice cream

Thomas Wilson, a longtime volunteer has died. Our volunteers and guests are deeply saddened by his passing. His presence was steadfast and influential. His southern charm and his stories were spread throughout our hospitality center and we hold so many of them now in our memories.

Thomas called me on a cold, rainy day in November of 2003. He had just read a front-page article in the Oregonian newspaper about our ministry at the Downtown Chapel. He desired a conversation with me about volunteering at the parish.

We met for lunch a couple of weeks after our phone introductions. We sat down at a restaurant table and he began to tell me his life story. He placed his black rimmed glasses on the table. He leaned back into his chair. I could see him make the decision to trust our conversation.  I listened and the hours past. I was deeply inspired by his life, the stories he told and the stories I could see in his eyes that he did not tell. He carried to the lunch table a deep and profound grief in the death of his long-time partner, Jim. He was sorting out reasons to keep living and to remain an active contributor to life and service among people in need. The conversation began a friendship of sharing his life and many more meals.

I remember this conversation over a Cobb salad because he accomplished his goals. His grief turned into volunteering for nine years. His desire to live turned into supporting so many of us in ministry and in life.

Thomas kindly supported our twelve-month interns and our Jesuit Volunteers. He presented them with plaques honoring their year of service to the Downtown Chapel. He wanted to make sure they felt the gratitude of the community they served so lovingly. He lunched with us, he reminisced with us, he challenged us and always spoke his mind. Thomas mentored so many students and clothed so many of our guests from the closing closets. He made his opinions known and he affirmed people every day. Thomas charmed us with southern humor and kept us on our toes with his sarcasm.

Kelli Aviles, our first twelve-month intern wrote me today about her friendship with Thomas. “Thomas had an amazing gift of sharing the deepest parts of his heart with the world. Through his willingness to be vulnerable and share his joys and sorrows, he invited others to do the same. His life told a story of how deeply we are capable of loving one another. I will be forever grateful to have known him.”

Thomas loved and cared for his sister, Jean. She died several months ago. He missed her and she carved another place of grief within his heart. Now Thomas, dine with the Divine, tell the stories of the past at the banquet feast of heaven.