In the interests of stimulating vocations to the priesthood, since the priest shortage is one of the reasons for the merging of parishes in a diocese whose average priest is at least 64, with fewer than 15 men currently in all levels of seminary training, I offer these experiences of my 41-plus years in ministry. I hope my fond recollections will help turn the tide this month, the month in which our diocese used to ordain upwards of 30 men each year, when in fact bishops could multiply parishes in order to put so many men to work in the Lord‘s vineyard. The high-water number of parishes was 124, but with our demographics projecting that by 2015 we will have only 85 priests to staff them, we had to do something.
Let’s start with the liberating sacrament of reconciliation. Here a priest experiences the joy of helping a fellow sinner return to a Lord so gracious he would lay down his life for us on a cross, and then make excuses for us, saying we did not know what we were doing. St John Vianney used to spend 16 hours a day absolving people, so great was his reputation in 19th-century France as a confessor. People would journey to him by train for his guidance even though he had nearly failed out of seminary because of learning difficulties with theology.
Besides that, I can attest to the surprises a confessor encounters when administering the sacrament, such as this version of the old act of contrition: “O my God, I am hardly sorry. . . .” On the subject of the prayers of penance, since Rome authorized 11 different suggested ones for the penitent in the new ritual, I have noticed in several parishes where I have served since Vatican II that directors of religious education and teachers of second-grade children invariably choose the longest one for the children to memorize and then recite painfully back to me. Many do not know that these 11 are only suggestions and that the penitent may compose his or own, in his or her own words. It’s valid.
Without jeopardy to the seal of confession I can assure parents that such young children have a rudimentary sense of right and wrong, evident in their ruefully owning up to having kicked the dog or pulling one’s sister’s hair. Small children seem to liken the experience of face to face confession to visiting Santa, with full eye contact. Older youth prefer the option of anonymous confession behind the screen, finding it excruciating to admit cyber porn, especially if they volunteer that they see their parent or parents view premium cable TV showing comparable material.
Marriage is another sacrament that provides at least vicarious enjoyment for the parish priest. After having spent five or six sessions with the couple, Father and they meet at the rehearsal. This is the dry run of the ceremony, held more to calm down the bride and groom, not to instruct them in anything. But since so many other people have to come, lectors, bridesmaids, ring-bearer, the parents, the rehearsal invariably goes longer than the ceremony itself since people like to add more and more parts to what the couple has already chosen. It has sometimes gotten so lengthy that I have quietly told the couple to use the parish ladder, over behind the rectory garage, to elope.
The sacrament of the anointing of the sick calls for some general catechesis. Not only is it no longer called the last rites or extreme unction, it should not be seen as a race with the devil for the dying person’s soul. The patient should be routinely anointed when hospitalized if the reason for admission is in any way serious. The family should not wait until the last moment of life before calling the priest. The perception of the sacrament even today is too often governed by old movie clips of actor Pat O’Brien in clerical collar crawling under a crashed car and rescuing from infernal flames a rogue and scoundrel from his previous ways. Likewise, Rome counsels against multiplying anointing in a scrupulous nervousness that an unconscious patient might have mortally sinned since the last anointing.
Baptism of an infant can be an awakening experience for the entourage with the baby at its initiation into Church membership. Coming in the church door, a novel experience for some, they think they are there because Father has to fix something broken with the lovely and innocent newborn. When they find out they have to stand and deliver a genuine renewal of their own baptismal promises instead of just being spectators at an innocuous ritual, they review their own church membership, since this is what the baby will grow up copying.
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