Decree of modification

Here's the second part of the decrees.  They should be read in tandem, and considered integrally connected, even though they exist as two separate documents:

Greetings and blessings in the Lord
To all those who will read this decree, we inform that:

WHEREAS the Code of Canon Law gives the Diocesan Bishop alone the right 'to establish, supress or alter parishes' after having consulted the Council of Priests, and this, in accordance with canon 515, paragraph 2;


WHEREAS the Council of Priests has already been consulted regarding the procedure to be followed in this regard during its regular meeting;


WHEREAS the Bishop has proceeded by decree dated this same day to suppress the parish of Holy Trinity in the City of Greater Sudbury, Ontario;

We the undersigned Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie, by virtue of our pastoral charge and by the present decree, erect as a single parish the community of faithful living in the combined territories of the former parishes of Christ the King and Holy Trinity, in the City of Greater Sudbury, Ontario.

This territory will henceforth form the modified parish of Christ the King with a second place of worship under the name of Holy Trinity.   This parish will remain under the title of Christ the King, whose Solemnity is celebrated on the last Sunday of the Liturgical Year.

This parish will enjoy full rights and the juridical personality of a parish, with all the rights and obligations of a parish according to Canon Law.  The said parish will have as its places of worship, the churches known as Christ the King situated at 21 Ste-Anne Road and Holy Trinity situated at 426 Burton Avenue, both in the City of Greater Sudbury.

In addition, by this same decree, We name Reverend Father Anthony Man-Son-Hing, pastor of the said parish, granting him all the faculties, powers, rights and privileges proper to his office by virtue of the directives of Canon Law, the Diocesan statutes and the customs legitimately approved in the Diocese.

The present decree will take effect January 1, 2011, on the solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God, and will be read and published at all Sunday masses celebrated in the parish church of Christ the King and place of worship of Holy Trinity on December 26, 2010, Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

May the Lord grant graces and blessings to the faithful and pastor of this modified parish of Christ the King.

Given at Sudbury, under Our signature, the seal of the Diocese and the signature of the Auxiliary Bishop on this eighth day of December, on the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and ten.

+Jean-Louis Plouffe
Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie

+Noel Simard, Vicar General
Auxiliary Bishop

Decree of suppression

Here's the first of the two relevant Decrees published this past weekend.  It's called a Decree of Suppression because before creating the newly-established parish, the existing one needs to be canonically closed:

Greetings and blessings in the Lord
To all those who will read this decree, we inform that:

WHEREAS the Code of Canon Law gives the Diocesan Bishop alone the right 'to establish, suppress or alter parishes' after having 'consulted the Council of Priests', and this, in accordance with canon 515, paragraph 2;

WHEREAS the faithful of the territorial parishes concerned after having been consulted recognize the good to be gained by regrouping the resources of the parish communities of Holy Trinity and Christ the King, in the City of Greater Sudbury;

WHEREAS the Council of Priests has already been consulted regarding the procedure to be followed in this regard during its regular meeting;

We, the undersigned, Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie, by the present disposition, after much reflection, consultation and prayer, and with no other reason than for the pastoral good of those concerned, decree the suppression of the Parish of Holy Trinity, erected August 25, 1936 and the modification of the Parish of Christ the King, erected September 26, 1917 in order to facilitate the regrouping of the Catholic faithful who live within the territory which formerly comprised the parochial communities of Holy Trinity and Christ the King.

The present decree will take effect on January 1, 2011, the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God and will be read and published at all Sunday masses in the above mentioned parishes on December 26, 2010, Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

May the Lord grant abundant graces and blessings to the faithful and to the pastors of Holy Trinity and Christ the King.

Given at Sudbury, under Our signature, the seal of the Diocese and the signature of the Auxiliary Bishop on this eighth day of December, the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and ten.

+Jean-Louis Plouffe
Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie

+Noel Simard, Vicar General
Auxiliary Bishop

Three days and counting

There's been a bit of silence these past few days, and I'm hoping still for a bit more of said silence.  It does the body well, and the spirit too.  However, out of silence come some good things from time to time ... or in this case, some information about things to come in the next few days.

Six months ago or so, the Bishop of our diocese (he's the boss) published the most recent list of details pertaining to parish re-organization in our diocese.  In other parts of the diocese, there are a number of other parishes which are being closed and-or combined with other neighboring parishes.  Ours is one of those, and this past weekend, in accordance with the Bishop's request, we published two decrees relative to at least two of the parishes involved.

In all such cases, there are certain procedures that must be followed, and in the case of Church structures, the rules are known as the Code of Canon Law.  These rules say that a Bishop has the right to establish and close any parishes operating within the geographic territory of his diocese, provided that he follows the prescribed rules.  This past weekend, we published the Bishop's decrees in our parish bulletin, so I'd like to share them (complete with all the legal-eze).

Needless to say, in some cases these changes cause more anxt than in others.  Until now, there are some who have questions about this particular situation, but we'll have to see what happens as days turn into weeks, months and ...

It's Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone.  Finally the day is here.  As you may have guessed, I didn't write a formal homily for Christmas Eve: the children did a wonderful job of directing my thoughts toward the true meaning of gift, and especially the reality that gifts come in packages of various makings, and seem to arrive by means of a whole bunch of different experiences.  Would that we could all have the eyes of children, and the honesty to speak what we see!

Here then is the adult version, perhaps a little less magical but nonetheless offered for consideration:

Real giving
 
What’s Christmas all about?  Children learn about this festival, first as a time for magic, for the receiving of gifts … but as adults, we learn (some of us more slowly than others) that the true beauty of this festival has more to do with giving than with receiving.

This is a time for looking back at the year that was, for celebrating our achievements, for thanking God first of all for the blessings we have received.  This is a time to recognize how blessed we are in so many ways.

This year, Canadians look back at the year that was and give thanks for the gift of sport which was celebrated in the Olympic Games in Vancouver earlier this year.  We also give thanks for the gift of our families and friends, for the gift of being able to celebrate our faith, for the gift of fortune that is ours, in whatever way it has come to us.

We also look back at this year and recognize the many ways that faith has been present in our world.  This faith has allowed many to overcome great suffering in places such as Port-au-Prince, Haiti and parts of Chile where our brothers and sisters have had the misfortune of facing major changes in their lives.  This faith has also been the source of inspiration for others of our brothers and sisters in places like the Gulf of Mexico where oil spills caused major ecological imbalance and harm earlier this year, and in places where there is war and discord throughout our world like Afghanistan and North Korea.

Tonight we have listened once again to the story of our Saviour’s birth, but have we truly appreciated the gift that was offered to us so many centuries ago, that is still offered to us today?  God, the creator of all things, chose to become one of us, a supreme gift of ultimate love, in order to show us the depth of his love.  He did this because love drives us to demand more of ourselves, to dream big, to reach beyond our own capabilities in order to bring about good for those we love.

God’s love for us has brought light into the midst of our darkness.  Because he chose to give of himself, we have the example of ultimate love, and therefore we can love all the more.  Because he has faith in us, the fruit of his creation, we too can have faith even in the face of tragedy.  Yet, try as we might, we can only glimpse shadows of the love that is offered for us.

On a night like this, we listen to the words that speak to us of a gift of ultimate grace, we hear once again the story of a people who once walked in darkness, but do we truly believe that this good news, proclaimed to us by a child born in a stable, is true?  We must believe this.  We must because God has entrusted this joyful news to us, and asks us to share it with others.  Ours is the task of passing on the word through our own belief, through our deeds of mercy, through our willingness to make a difference.

Our world experiences more than its fair share of trial.  This year, dare to be a sign of hope, a sign of love, a bearer of good tidings and joy.  Imagine how much our world needs such good news, and imagine what a different place it would be if it actually believed.  Merry Christmas!

Children in the lead

The first Mass of Christmas was both wonderful and challenging.

Wonderful because there were children present.  Along with their families, some of these little ones led all the music, including the guitarist and the violinists who proved to be very accomplished musicians.  They even had to lead the way at some points so that the poor pastor would know where he was!

Family members all crowded in to witness the spectacle.  After all, it's not every day that children get to lead us, although it probably should.

In the end, the kids did wonderfully.  It was more of a challenge though for the adults, at least those of us who had to rely on the modern marvels of technology.  The newly installed portable microphones both decided to work but only if it suited them, and this meant that for most of the time we had to rely more on the power of our diaphragms for projection.

This feeling of utter confusion was probably more what it was like that holy night, and still miracles happened.  Why would it not be possible for blessings to be showered even when things seemed so out of control?

At the ready

Well, all the pieces are in place (I think).  The poinsettias are arranged, the figures in the crèche have all been placed, the lights are on the trees, and the ornaments have been hung in the Remembrance Tree.  Now all that remains is for the people to show up.

Was it like this in Bethlehem so many years ago?  I wonder whether they even had time to think about what they packed before Mary boarded the donkey and they trod their way t the city of David.

Preparing the Remembrance Tree

Ideas are great!  They abound in some cases, and this is indeed a good thing.  New ideas bring new opportunities for life to be celebrated, and this place is certainly no stranger to new ideas.

Last year at this time, I started sending a letter to all the families with which we had celebrated a funeral during the previous year ... just a little way of letting them know that we haven't forgotten about them.  Christmas can be a difficult time for those who are mourning.

This year, we will introduce what I'm calling a Remembrance Tree.  Over the past year, we have celebrated baptisms, weddings and funerals.  We have helped little ones to discover the mercy of forgiveness and the ultimate gift of the Eucharist.  All these moments (and there were a fair number of them since January 1) will be commemorated this year.

There's a tree set up not far from the manger scene.  This tree will hold particularly chosen ornaments for every baptism, for every child who celebrated First Reconciliation and First Eucharist this year, for every young adult who confirmed his or her faith here,  for every couple who celebrated their weddings here, for every soul who has been reunited with our God, and for whom we celebrated a funeral here.

As of tonight, the ornaments are now ready.  Each one bears the name of one of those who has celebrated with us, and when the Christmas festivities are complete, individuals and their families will be invited to take these tokens home with them.

Life in the face of new life

I've spoken before in this forum about the Hospice in this community.  It's been operating for quite some time now, but only recently have I had occasion to interact.  From time to time, I visit with some of the residents, especially when they are among the parishioners who pray with us in this Christian community, but from time to time, I do visit at the Hospice for other reasons.

This week, at the invitation of the staff, I asked a friend to accompany me as we celebrated a Mass with the residents who are currently there.  This is the second time we've done this, and like all other occasions when we enter those doors, the experience is as rewarding if not more so for us than it is for the residents.

Because those who are resident there are facing some serious questions about life and life hereafter, they have little if any time for small talk, but this is also a place of peace: a place where the worries of the outside world can be left behind, perhaps because when one is resident at a hospice, the worries of the world pale by comparison with the truths about coming to peace with others.

I once heard an elderly man describe his perception about the end of earthly life not so much as something to be feared, as a moment for which we wait, for which we have been waiting our entire lives.  This is not something to be afraid of, but rather something to be celebrated.  What a wonderful lesson for the head and the heart.

Christmas for others

Christmas time is most difficult for some: those who are economically challenged, those who are mourning, those who are lonely, to name a few.

This year, we invited people in this community to consider reaching out to the elderly in our city.  They are often the ones who may be forgotten by families otherwise swept up in reverie.  When we first put out the invitation to take a tag from the giving tree that was set up, and to purchase a gift which would be forwarded to its intended recipient, the response was overwhelming.

These are difficult times for many, but Christmas seems to bring out the best in us.  As it turns out, we had to replenish the tree three times, and three times the tags all disappeared.  In all, some 53 elderly in this community will benefit this year from the generosity that has been demonstrated: and this is just one of many places that are focused on the needs of others at this time of year.  What a wonderful testimony to our commitment to others.

On behalf of those whose Christmas has been brightened, thank you to those who responded so generously.

Little ones preparing

Last night, there was an invasion.  This time the adults took a back seat and let their little ones take over the spotlight ... well, not all the adults.

Actually, we're planning something a bit different for this year's Christmas Eve Mass with children and families.  We've invited not only the children to sing in the choir, but their parents as well.  We've also invited some newcomers to join them, and have introduced a few multi-lingual parts to some of the hymns that will be sung.

Last night, everyone was here to do a dress rehearsal of sorts.  The guitarist (who is a high-school student) and the violinists (who are both elementary school students) added their strains to those of the two dozen or so who will make up the choir, and the little ones tried on their angel costumes (all things must be just so, no?).  Little details about the music had to be sorted out so that all will run as smoothly as possible when the big night arrives.

Now that this revision is complete, we're all ready to go ...

Never too late

Here is this week's installment, a reflection on the remaining days of the Advent period.  Hope you enjoy it.

Never too late

The hours are slipping by.  In just a few days, it will all be over for another year.  The emphasis in today's liturgy is on the imminence of Christmas, the nearness of Christ's birthday.  'The young woman is with child,' the first reading tells us, 'and shall bear a son' (Is 7:14).  'As Christmas draws near,' says the prayer after Communion, 'make us grow in faith and love to celebrate the coming of our Saviour.'  The Church tells us that Advent is a season of preparation, but I wonder whether we've lost sight of that; and if we have, is there anything we can do to remedy the situation, even at this late date?  I think there is, let me explain:

An aquaintance of mine, a priest from Ireland, tells me that when he was a young boy, he remembers a time when there was a devotion during Advent called the 'four thousand Hail Marys'.  The idea was that every child would pray four thousand Hail Marys during Advent, in preparation for Christmas.  This devotion began on the first Sunday of Advent, and all the neighbourhood children would compete to see how quickly they could finish their prayers.  Four thousand Hail Mary's works out to fifteen decades of the rosary every day.  I'm not sure it would work today, and I'm not sure that those who competed even then were really concerned about prayer; it was more of a competition between peers.  Nevertheless, the idea is there: it's never too late for prayer to be effective.

The commercial world will tell us that there are only four more shopping days 'til Christmas, but what if we responded by telling others that there are only four more praying days left?  The best part is that it's not too late to get started.  Even with just four days left, there's still time to say an Our Father here or a Hail Mary there.  Pray it first thing in the morning, before you get out of bed, or while you're in the midst of the morning ablutions.  Pray it last thing at night, as you fall into bed.  Pray it whenever you can.  When it comes to prayer, it's not so much the quantity that counts as the quality with which it's presented.

What else can we do to prepare for Christmas.  Before I make another suggestion, let me ask a few questions: Did we sing or recite a Gloria in today's Mass? No!  What's the colour of the vestments I'm wearing? Purple!  By leaving out the Gloria during Advent, and by putting on the purple, the Church reminds us that Advent is not only a season of expectation and joy, but a season of penance as well.  That's the message that John the Baptist has been screaming about these past few weeks, 'Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight' (Lk 3:4).  Penance comes in a variety of shapes and sizes.  It can involve fasting, self-denial, sacrificing ourselves for others, giving generously to others, especially the poor, forgiving the hurting and bruising that others inflict upon us.  The essence of Penance though is repentance and conversion, turning away from sin and turning back to God.  I'm sure there isn't one of us who during this past year hasn't turned in some way toward sin.  Very often, our turning isn't a malicious choice, it's simply a human inclination.  We're weak and fragile and prone to evil, but it's because God knows our weakness that Christ left us a special sacrament.  Wouldn't it help us to prepare fully for Christmas if we were to avail ourselves of the Sacrament of Penanace, which is brimming over, full to overflowing with the mercy of God?  Don't let it overflow in vain.

Saying goodbye

Here, as promised, is the text of the homily as it was pronounced at the funeral Mass today.  If I find the time in the coming days I'll distribute a translated copy to those who ask for it.

Homélie pour les obsèques de l’Hon. Yvon Renaud

Twelve years ago, I was called to lead the then parishes of St-Ignace and Ste-Croix, located in Sault Ste. Marie.  On the weekend of my arrival, at the end of each of the Masses, I asked the parishioners to be seated so that I could speak with them.  Without a text, I proceeded to explain:

Vous savez bien que l’évêque m’a nommé curé de la paroisse.   Cela veut dire que je suis le patron, mais je suis également un étudiant car ma langue maternelle c’est l’anglais et j’ai appris le français à l’école. Vous savez que je viens tout juste de traverser une période d’immersion mais j’aurai encore besoin de votre aide si jamais je fais des erreurs soit en conjugaisons ou les accords.

C’est Yvon qui a pris le microphone à ce moment, et qui a déclaré :

« M. le curé, au nom de tout les paroissiens et toute les paroissiennes, je vous souhaite la plus cordiale bienvenue.  Pour ce qu’il y en est de vos inquiétudes, ne vous en faites pas trop car nous aussi, nous faisons des erreurs de temps en temps ».

Et c’est ainsi qu’a commencé une amitié qui continue jusqu’à ce jour avec Yvon, Lise, leurs enfants et maintenant leurs petits-enfants.  Ensemble nous avons rompu du pain plusieurs fois. Nous avons célébré ensemble des occasions de joie, comme des anniversaires de naissance et des noces; nous avons également connu des moments de tristesse et d’épreuve.  Voici qu’en ce moment, alors que nous devons remettre son âme au Seigneur, il est juste et bon de prendre le temps de rendre grâce pour tout ce que nous avons connu de bon et de bien chez lui.

Yvon is and was always a man of faith.  There has never been anything more important to him than his relationship with God.  What words he uttered in prayer as he knelt in a church, what tribulations and joys he spoke to God about, perhaps none of us can say, but he firmly believed in the profound love that Christ has for us, he celebrated it, he cherished it.

Ceux qui le connaisse s’entendront pour dire qu’il était un homme de conviction et juste, doué de toutes sortes de talents ; il était un homme qui éprouvait autant de plaisir à installer un plancher de bois franc qu’à préparer une pizza le samedi soir; à jouer de la guitare et chanter une chanson de Robert Lebel qu’à conseiller un de ses proches qui devait prendre une décision difficile ou délicate.

Nous qui sommes ici ce matin devons nous compter très chanceux, privilégié même, d’avoir eu l’occasion de cheminer quelque peu sur cette terre avec Yvon.  Rares sont les personnes si intègres, si attentives aux besoins des autres.  Et pourtant, n’est-ce qu’on attend de chacun de nous comme disciples du Maître divin?

Can you imagine what the conversation is like between Yvon and Saint Peter at the gates of heaven?  Who’se asking the questions and who’se answering? 

We who have known his kindness, his generosity, his love and his hospitality are sure that he has fed the hungry many times, that he has shared more than one bottle of beer with those who are thirsty, that he has always sought to welcome visitors, whether they be strangers or life-long friends.  How many times did he clothe the naked, not only those who wanted for physical clothing, but those also who appeared before him in court, scared, ashamed, in need of a compassionate ear or an understanding heart?

Who among us have not known in him the heart of one who would drop almost everything to listen attentively to a story, all the while trying to understand first and foremost the humanity of the situation, and where possible how he could help?

Le jour de son assermentation, ici à Sudbury, je lui ai présenté deux cadeaux : un marteau en bois et une copie du Code du droit canon.  Vous savez, il n’a pas voulu garder le livre, croyant qu’il n’en était pas digne.  Pourtant, je serait prêt à parier qu’il est en train de mettre de l’ordre aux cieux à présent.

Et nous qui restons ici sur cette terre … quelles leçons devons tirer de ce difficile moment?  Quelles sont les grâces offertes à nous afin que nous puissions tout de même vivre ce moment avec plénitude?  Je vous propose de puiser conseil dans le livre de la Sagesse qui nous rassure ainsi : « Grâce à sa foi et à son espérance, Yvon a déjà accès à l’immortalité ».  En ce qui nous concerne, il ne nous reste qu’à mettre notre confiance dans le Seigneur afin d’y trouver la vérité, la grâce et la miséricorde.

Busy preparing

Sorry for the apparent absence.  You may remember me writing about my friend, the one who was diagnosed with the brain tumor ... well he finally went to God last Saturday, and we've been preparing for his funeral ever since.  The text of the homily will be posted as of Saturday.  Watch for it.

Listen in

Ok, thanks to the wonders of technology, the podcast version of this past weekend's homily is now available.  Just click here (if you can).  Happy listening.

What shall I give?

As promised, here is the text copy of my reflection for this weekend, the third Sunday of Advent (Year A).  As always, you can check out the podcast version, or just read the text below:

What shall I give?
On the western coast of Israel, not that far from the city of Jerusalem is the port city of Haifa. It's a sprawling metropolis that speaks loudly not only of the prosperity it now enjoys, but of a place of promenence that it has known for centuries. Haifa is the gateway between the Mediterranian Sea and the trading routes toward the orient. It is also located in one of the most fertile areas of the country. Within the vicinity lies the Ofer forest, one of only a few wooded areas in the whole country, and within the Ofer forest is the majestic Mount Carmel: yes the very Carmel that is spoken of in today's first reading.


In a land which is mostly desert, a forest is truly a sign of prosperity, but forests are fragile things. Just a few weeks ago, there was a fire set in the Ofer forest, burning away some of the precious vegetation. We here in Canada are no strangers to forest fires, but because of the abundance of our forests, we may find it difficult to understand the impact of such devastation in a country where all is precious, or can we? People who have very little often teach some valuable lessons to those who have much. Those who have known such a long history of cherishing their trees can and do speak eloquently to those of us who pay little attention to our own treasures.

For many of us, these weeks of Advent are a struggle between trying to find time to understand the lessons of the scriptures, and trying to get all the physical preparations done in time for Christmas. As the next weeks unravel, our shopping malls will become more and more busy as at least some of us will become more and more frantic about finding the right gifts to give to friends and family. The statistics gurus tell us that the average family will spend $1000 on Christmas presents, and credit card companies love this time of year.

In contrast to all this frenzy and the apparent confidence portrayed in all the advertising we see, the scriptures today present us once again with the figure of John the Baptist. Last week, he was standing in the waters of the Jordan, calling out boldly for repentance, but this week, his words are spoken from behind bars, and there is a definite tinge of doubt as he sends his disciples to ask Jesus, 'Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?' You see, ever since the time Elijah prophecied from that cave atop Mount Carmel, John's people had waited for the promised Messiah. The intervening years have not always been kind, so it is understandable that they should be on the lookout for one who would free them from tyrany.

Perhaps we too have pre-conceived notions about the tyrany we live with, about the things from which we need to be freed. Perhaps like John and his companions, we too have difficulty identifying the freedoms that Jesus came to proclaim, or believing in the miracles we see right before our eyes. Like the crowds who listened to Jesus, perhaps we too should ask ourselves, 'What is it that we expect to see this Christmas? Who are we waiting for?' The answer might surprise us, because I'm willing to bet it will have little to do with the content of our shopping carts.

In the midst of our shopping for others, let's take a moment this week to consider the gift we would offer to Jesus. What would it look like? Remember that Jesus was a little boy who lived in Nazareth, an out-of-the-way place. He and his family were among the forgotten of society, the ones who had little time for empty promises, the ones who promised only that which they could deliver. In the words of the second reading, he too is patient as he waits for us to decide about the gift we want to offer, but once we make up our minds, he is counting on us to fulfill our promise. Don't let him down.

Gone Home

The news arrived at the door this morning, because I was busy in the kitchen while my phone was in another part of the house.

Even after I'd spoken to his brother and wife, and heard the news from them myself, it still took a while to sink in.  The battle is over.  He's gone Home.  To be honest, I kind of knew that he wouldn't wait for a long time, and there wasn't much hope of him regaining his consciousness, so this moment had to come at some time.  Funny, no matter how well the brain knows this, when it happens there are always tears.

I know that he has been at peace for some time now (thanks to all the medication the doctors were administering to keep him from seisuring, he appeared to be sleeping), but life will not be easy for his wife, for their children who have lost their husband and father far too soon.

In the coming days, many will gather, and each will do a part to assist in whatever way we can.  All who knew him in this life need now to bid adieu, and to trust that somewhere in heaven, he is whole again, that he is celebrating his birthday with his papa, and that he is playing a wonderful tune.

Lining them up

It took a bit more than an hour and a half, but we finally managed to get them all in order.  No, they are not ducks, but rather the boxes of envelopes that are distributed to parishioners every year at this time of the year.

For the second year in a row, the boxes of envelopes have been labeled and sorted in alpahbetical order.  They are now all sitting ready and waiting for their intended owners to claim them.  The specifics about how the boxes of envelopes get distributed varies depending on the parish.  In this case, the practice (up until last year) was to just put them all out in the church and let people pick them up.  There's only one problem with this apprach. A fair number of the regulars want their envelopes (that means a specific envelope number) and they'll stop at nothing to get them (including churning through all the boxes until they find what they're looking for).

In an attempt to establish a somewhat more orderly system of distribution, I suggested last year that we try to alphabetize the envelopes, assigning the same numbers if possible to families and individuals who were registered users this past year.  It worked, but as always there were other suggestions to improve the process, so this year will be yet another experiment.  From this point of view, it seems that we've caught a few other snags, and the process should work out relatively well.

Once the people arrive to pick them up, our theories will be tested, and we'll see whether or not we meet with success.

With students

Two days, two schools worth of children.

Yesterday, we welcomed the students from a nearby High School.  They came to celebrate the Eucharist with us at our regularly scheduled daily Mass.  By the time the students had found their seats, and the staff members had joined them, there were not many extra seats to be had.  Any that might have been vacant were taken by the 'regulars' who are here to celebrate Mass.

Students at this particular high school have recently established a multi-cultural group among their students.  These were the ones who took a leadership role in organizing this liturgy.  They prayed the psalm in various languages (English, French, Spanish and Italian), while others prepared the musical parts of this gatheirng.

Students aren't used to entering a church, so it takes some time, lots of patience and constant guidance to get them used to the established culture that exists inside our walls, but then again if any of us were to set foot within the walls of their school, would we be any different?

***
As it turns out, only one day later, we also welcomed the students from one of the local elementary schools.  A much smaller and younger group, they too are part of the fabric of this place, so it was wonderful to see them here.

Children of all ages need the guidance of the adults in their lives to teach them about the faith tradition that sets us apart.  For those who are involved in this process, we give thanks today.  Recognizing the call for all of us to play a part in educating our young people, we each have a task ahead of us.  The question is, 'are we willing to accept the challenge'?

For nascent life

For some years now, there is a special Mass celebrated every year on December 8, a moment to pray for the protection of life, especially for those who are unborn.  This year, the Holy Father asked all Bishops throughout the world to join him at the beginning of Advent in praying for the unborn, so our local Ordinary (that's the official title for the Diocesan Bishop) decided to organize a series of Masses, all of which would be celebrated at (roughly) the same time.

Last night was the night, so at 7:00 pm local time, Mass began in the Pro-Cathedral in North Bay and in the Church of St. Jerome in Sault Ste. Marie.  For some reason, the decision was made that the Mass in Sudbury (which took place here) would begin 30 minutes later.

Parishioners from all parishes across the region were invited.  A composite choir made up of voices from various parts of the region was also present, and a good number of the priests from the city came to celebrate this first-ever Mass for nascent life held in the city.

Yes the liturgy was beautiful, but more than this, the importance of this moment is found in the words spoken between the human heart and the divine.  We heard the words spoken with human voices.  We heard the music created by human hands, but we don't have ears to hear the celestial choir (yet) nor can we interpret the collective conversation that takes place between the human soul and the ever-present, ever-loving Creator.

Walking with the dying

After the catastrophe that happened last night, today was a totally different day.  I visited this afternoon with an elderly parishioner and this was indeed a moment of blessing.  Let me explain first a bit of background.

A few months ago, the parish Liturgy committee agreed to add a new wrinkle to the established practice of inviting parishioners to contribute gifts during Advent for those in need.  For many years now, we have conducted a campaign focusing on knitted garments for children, but this year we chose to turn our attention to the elderly of the parish.  It's amazing to see how well the response to this invitaiton is going.  We have identified a number of parishioners who are either sick or alone and will share some of our blessings (hopefully) with them this year.

One such gentleman is currently resident in the local hospice.  I've gotten to know him (and his wife) over the past number of months, and discovered earlier this year that they were both transferrred to the hospice because they were both suffering from grave illness.  His wife has since returned Home, but his journey is not yet complete.  I'm told that it won't be long though, so I chose today to visit with him and to deliver his Christmas gift from our parish a few days in advance of Christmas.  As I stood at his bedside, others from the nursing staff and his sister also gathered around.  He was not strong enough to open the gift I presented, but asked others to help.  I'm sure he was happy (at least he was very courteous and generous with his expressions of gratitude for our gift).

I couldn't help thinking that it's quite probable that he won't be on this side of the curtain in just a few days time, and this was very possibly the best gift we could have offered to him.  I know that this encounter was already a wonderful Christmas gift for me.  I blessed him as I left, not quite sure whether we will meet again in this world ... maybe.

Getting old?

Have you ever had one of those days where things just don't seem to go well?

Last night turned out to be one of those.  I had all great intentions of showing up (as promised) at one of the local parishes to help with the penitential service that was planned.  There was only one problem, I wasn't too sure which one of the local parishes it was.  I had indeed written all the details in my agenda, and normally this is enough, but on this particular occasion, I didn't have access to the electronic agenda that sometimes rules my life, and I had left my cell phone lying on the desk as well (right next to the computer upon which my agenda is logged).

Needless to say, I had to rely on my memory, which these days is not always such a good idea.  The result: I went racing off to the parish where I thought the gathering was scheduled, only to find the entire building in darkness.  Even as I returned to the car (yes, I'd even gotten out to go inside before resigning myself to the fact that I wasn't in the right place), I began to think about where it was that I needed to be.  To make a long story a bit shorter, by the time the wild goose chase was over, I'd visited three of the area parishes, finding all the buildings in relative darkness.  Having then to rely on the fact that Jesus was home but no one else was to be found in those places, I returned to my own abode, checked the electronic calendar, and discovered that I had indeed visited a bunch of places, but not the right one.

I wonder if other people have days like this.

Back issues

While I remember, and for those who don't know about them, text copies (and podcast copies in most cases) of the homilies from the past four years or so are also available.  You'll find them in the Pastor's Pen section of the website for the Church of Christ the King.

A note of caution: sometimes that site is a bit tired, thus the reason for the posts beginning with the season of Advent this year.

Happy reading.

Most unlikely sources

While we're at it, here is a copy of this week's reflection. 

Most unlikely of sources
is based on the scripture texts proper to the Second Sunday of the Advent Season (Year A, 2010-2011).  In case you're unsure, those texts are Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 5:4-9 and Matthew 3:1-12.

Listen to this homily


A number of years ago, I came to know a couple who live here in Sudbury.  They had been married for a number of years, but were never able to have children.  Only after having lost her father, and then discovering that her mother was also terminally ill did my friend discover that she was indeed pregnant.  As the months went along, she and her family cared for their dying mother, and all the while, there was a growing sense of joy that finally a miracle had been granted.  Little Isabelle was born two months premature, and it wasn't long before we discovered that she had some rather serious medical complications.  This didn't stop her parents from loving her; in fact they always called her their little miracle.  In subsequent years, Isabelle's brother was born, and until this week, he worshiped his big sister.  Just a few days ago, we learned that little Isabelle, after living six years on this earth has finally returned home.  Anyone who knew her during these past six years will speak about her amazing ability to warm hearts with her radiant smile, or about the many other lessons she taught us: lessons about acceptance, lessons about love, lessons about finding the secret to true happiness.  Kids have a way of cutting through all the worries of life, and concentrating on the things that are essential.  Would that we adults could learn these lessons well.

The most valuable lessons in life often come from the most unlikely sources.  In the first reading today, Isaiah's words paint pictures of a world that sounds like utopia.  It must have sounded like a dream to the Israelites, like a reality that could only exist in a foreign land.  Even here in Canada, despite our abundance and riches, we might be tempted to think that Isaiah must truly have been dreaming when he spoke of a world where mortal enemies will one day sit side by side, where those who are accustomed to competition will one day reach out a helping hand, where adults might just have to lay aside the wisdom of this world and dare to learn a lesson or two from the innocent ways of a child.

All of this sounds like it's too much to hope for, but the words addressed to the Christian community in Rome also challenged them to believe that the impossible could be made possible.  Even in the darkness of despair, a word of encouragement can help us to remember that there is always hope.  In the case of the early Christians, they were asked to remember that our God is steadfast.  Our God sticks to his guns.  Our God will always be there for us.  When this world challenges us to doubt the power of faith, God responds with encouragement for our hearts and our spirits.  This is the best medicine for those times when we might be tempted to think that there is no place in this world for a warm welcome, or that we should give into the temptation to see one another through any filter other than love.

Even the gospel today speaks of unlikely sources.  The Jordan River is not a raging torrent of water.  It is little more than Junction creek, and yet this was the place where John chose to baptise and to call others to repentance.  The baptist himself was not a man of means.  He didn't possess any degrees of higher learning, yet his words spoke with a wisdom far beyond his station.  The power brokers in our world would have us believe that they are the ones who can guarantee our happiness, yet I find it difficult to believe that war and military might can instill anything but a constant sense of fear and foreboding.  Walls, fences and wire do not instill peace, they define limits and territories as silent reminders of might that can too often lead to oppression.  Promises of progress which come from worldly powers too often result in the suffering of innocent souls.  Why is it so difficult for us to believe that God's way is possible?  Is it because we have learned only too well to put our trust in things we can see and touch? Is it because we have allowed ourselves to be seduced by the world around us?

Perhaps it's time to wake from our slumber, to dare to believe in a different kind of promise, to allow ourselves to be led not by promises that cannot be fulfilled, but rather by those that have called to us across the constructs of time with the promise of treasures much more worth our attention.  Perhaps we should look in the unlikely places, and find our hope in the most unexpected of places.

Isabelle's funeral was celebrated today (Saturday).  Unfortunately I was not able to be present, but I know that it was a wonderful occasion of thanksgiving, a gathering where people of faith confided a holy soul back to the loving embrace of our creator.  Isabelle's parents made a conscious choice for life, a choice they and those who knew her will never regret.

Dare to make a difference

A number of years ago, I began recording the texts of my homilies.  Not only that; I also have been making available, podcast copies of these weekly offerings for the on-line crowd.  As it turns out, the website that I've been using for the past four years or so is not always (ehem) reliable, so my next thought is that I can possibly use this space to publish them.  Does that make sense?

Assuming that all will agree, here is the text of the homily from last weekend.  Since this would have been the first one of a new Liturgical Year, I thought it might be fitting to begin here.  In case you might also like to listen to the podcast version, I'll also make that available.  It would be interesting to hear from you about whether this is a suitable place to publish these texts and-or the recorded versions.  I'll look forward to your comments.  Here goes:


Dare to make a difference
This reflection was prepared for and proclaimed as part of the Sunday liturgies during the First Sunday of Advent, Year A (2010-2011).  The scripture texts upon which it is based are those proper to that day: Isaiah 2:1-5; Romans 13:11-14 and Matthew 24:37-44.

Listen to this homily


Advent is the season that marks the beginning of the liturgical year, and as we begin this new year, the first words that we hear from scripture, from the book of the prophet Isaiah, speak of a vision, a dream.  This is not the kind of dream that you have when you're sleeping, from which you wake with very little if any recollection of the details.  This is the kind of dream that you have while you're fully awake, the kind of dream that planners at the top echelons of business dream, the kind of dream that first-time homeowners have, the kind of dream that our new confirmandi had in their eyes as Bishop Simard spoke with them at the time of their Confirmation on Friday night.

Isaiah's dream speaks of peace, something that human beings have sought it seems throughout history, even from the time when we were put out of the Garden of Eden.  We all have our own visions of peace, but I'm not sure that we will find green plants and flowing water fountains in the biblical vision.  Instead, what we find is intentionality.  Isaiah dreams of a time when war will be replaced with a willingness to share the daily chores that make it possible for us to live and of a time when competition will be replaced with a common vision for mutual improvement.  Even today, there are some who would wonder whether such a vision is possible, or whether it is only a pipe dream.

Our world needs visionaries, the ones who dream big.  Otherwise, we would be condemned to an existence that would be confined to a very small scope indeed, but our world also needs committed individuals, willing to work hard so that the big visions can someday come to pass.  The letter to the Romans speaks to us today of some of the practical things that you and I need to do so that God's dream of peace can someday come about.  This Advent season, this new beginning is the time for us to wake from our sleep, to be conscious about laying aside the works of darkness: our willingness to wait and to let someone else worry about our salvation, our willingness to be passive about our faith.  This is the time for us to put on the armour of light: to courageously live our faith with conviction, to be ambassadors of peace, to boldly speak out against injustice, to make a difference in our world.

Jesus' disciples knew only too well that many facets of their lives were controlled by others, that many situations were beyond the scope of their own realm of possibility, but they were drawn to Jesus because he dared to dream about a different kind of world, a world in which his disciples could wake from their slumber and take charge of their lives, where they could allow themselves to be emboldened by faith and courageous enough to take concrete steps toward making peace possible.  We too need to continue this work, to determine the necessary steps, to discover the attitudes we need to adopt, to inform ourselves about the organizations who work for peace and who need our help, to dare to teach the lessons of peace to our friends, our colleagues and our family members.

The beginning of a new year is always a time for resolutions.  This Advent, set a resolution to be conscious about working for peace.  Find one concrete thing that you can do to bring about peace either within yourself or within your own circle of influence.  Jesus dreamed about bringing peace to the whole world, one person at a time.  This work of peacemaking continues today.  He needs us, he needs all of us to make a difference.