I call him, "Father Benito"

Parishioners show their affection in a lot of ways. Some people send cards, bake pies, or create fully-poseable limited edition action figures in your honor. Yes, that's right, I have my own action figure, although at the moment not available in retail stores. He comes with black clerics and combat boots (for parish meetings), an alb, cincture, and green stole and chasuble for Sunday Mass. He also comes with a chalice and patten which fit his hands. They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and I have been most sincerely flattered with this gift. I hear that our diocesan personnel board is trying to figure out how to assign my action figure to a parish, or at least have him help out on weekends.
We hope to be expanding his line to include vestments in all the liturgical colors, perhaps "Classic Edition" vestments including the highly collectible Requiem Mass Black. Friends could include a deacon and acolytes. Sets currently in development are an altar, a Baptismal Rites set, and maybe also a confessional (bless me Father, I said some nasty things to Ken, like, he took Skipper to the mall, and got her a new outfit instead of going to the beach with me, and I was so totally jealous and angry, and I know he's still the only one for me but sometimes I wish there was someone else...)

The night sky

I am still very much in the "childhood" of my priesthood, being only ordained three months. However, it has not taken long to realize that priesthood is something completely different, as Fr. Joel said in his post. People look at me differently. The children at the school yesterday were pulling every heart string they could grasp to make me sit next to them when I suddenly appeared for lunch. Finally I announced that I had to sit by first grade because I had not visited that classroom in the morning. The children also universally declared that I should be the one to lead them in the after-meal prayer. Yesterday two complete stranger struck up an awkward conversations with me in an aisle of the supermarket. A woman who had never met me before, did not consider herself to be Catholic, and had nothing to do with the Church or the sacraments, suddenly began to share with me the details and disappointments of her life, begging for my advice or at least my compassionate ear. In the beginning this was a shock for me but now I am no longer surprised. In fact, I am honored to be in the position of priest. It is somewhat like being the night sky, bottled up and walking around. Some people stare at me and discover only cold darkness, and think that I should get a wife and get a life. Other people think that, by looking at me, they can glimpse the compassion and mystery of the invisible God. I wonder if the sky is as honored to spread out its stars and wait for lonely people to look up, as I am to button up my black shirt and tuck in the white collar every morning.

Holy Priesthood, Benjamin!

Father Benjamin called me yesterday. Did I want to be part of his new blog on priesthood? Blog, I mused - that bizarre hybrid between Dear Diary and Hello World. People pour their souls out on these things, revealing to complete strangers what they would never tell a good friend. Or they create whole alter-egos, their subconscious run amuck in cyberspace. It must be modern pseudo-intimacy; we only really feel like ourselves when we are completely anonymous. People go to jail for these things.

But then again, thousands might read a blog. And priesthood is really rather interesting, especially for a young priest. They stare at me in Target and at the gas station, like I just stepped off a space ship. "Do they let people that young become priests?" they ask. People either quickly look the other way, or are suddenly very friendly. They ask if I need help and then walk me across the store, just in case I did not understand the directions to aisle nine. I always thought a priest stood between the Divine and the Human, but most days it feels like we stand between the Sublime and the Humorous. What better topic for a blog? Besides, people are curious. Once upon a time I kept people informed of life through e-mail or through a website, which consumed way too much time. I want to be free of cyberspace, and yet the Gospel must be preached even here.

Welcome to our new blog on priesthood. Enjoy the ride.

Monastic Life

I celebrated Mass at the Monastery of the Holy Name of Jesus. It is south of Green Bay near the town of Denmark, Wisconsin. The brick and stone monastery is home to 11 discalced Carmelite nuns who live perpetually cloistered. They communicate with the outside world through telephones and through a turntable that spins, and occasionally through e-mail (it is the modern world, after all). Their section of the chapel is divided from the rest by a grille but it has a door through which they receive communion. Inside the cloiser, the pace of life is much more simple and deliberate than we find outside. Their day is filled with prayer, silence, and work around the monastery.

I find a trip to visit them extremely refreshing and it helps me to slow down a little bit. It is also a great reminder of the importance of keeping prayer central to my ministry. After all, their only real ministry is their prayer and the sacrifices they offer for the world. It makes me think that perhaps prayer is the most important thing I can do in a day.