Saturday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 454

Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion!
See, I am coming to dwell among you, says the LORD.
Many nations shall join themselves to the LORD on that day,
and they shall be his people and he will dwell among you.

“This church with which we should be thinking is the home of all, not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people. We must not reduce the bosom of the universal church to a nest protecting our mediocrity. And the church is Mother; the church is fruitful. It must be.  (Pope Francis, Interviews published Sept 19, 2013)

I was ordained in Carey Ohio, in the National Basilica of Our Lady of Consolation. People come there to find healing, comfort and reassurance from Ohio; from the border states of Indiana, Michigan, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and New York; more distant states like Illinois and Wisconsin; and from Ontario, Canada. They speak many languages and, to my narrow mid-western mind, practice many unusual religious customs. All are welcome. After thirteen years in the seminary I was ready to experience a wide-open Church and I found it there. 

I also found Franciscan friars who were eager to serve the shrine and its pilgrims in whatever way we could. At all hours of the day and night we blessed everything from water to animals to farm machinery. One woman urgently begged me to bless her thirteen year old daughter who had not yet found a husband. 

The day after I was ordained Sister Cecilia told me to go hear the confessions of some Lebanese pilgrims. 
"Sister, I don't speak Lebanese." 
"Neither does anyone else here. Go do it."
So my first confessions as a priest were in Lebanese. 

Hearing the Pope remind us the church should be a universal mother reminds me of those halcyon days in Carey. The doors were always open; the statue was unprotected, and the people were blessed. We didn't check their blue cards or their drivers licences. We didn't require them to speak English. We didn't even ask them to vote Republican or Democrat. We offered freely the Sacrament of Penance to everyone who asked, but didn't require it for those who wanted to receive the Eucharist. Nor did we ask if they practiced birth control or had ever had an abortion. 

Occasionally our hospitality was abused. The statue of Our Lady was stolen a couple of times (by local boys). She always turned up somewhere, usually within a few blocks. Her bejeweled crown was missing so we fashioned another one. Sometimes the church cleaning crew found a wafer on the floor or in a pew. Why it was there no one could guess, but we assumed it was consecrated and disposed of it reverently. 

During the big feast of the Assumption of Mary (August 15) hundreds of people slept in the pews of the upper, lower and original shrine churches. Naked toddlers sometimes wandered the aisles during the early morning masses. One little girl, fascinated by the altar and the priest, stood there tinkling on the floor. Her mother was probably sound asleep in one of the pews. Those were glorious days. 

I've not been there for the major feast in several years but I would not be surprised to hear stories like mine continue to mount up. It's an experience every newly-ordained priest should have, lest he think his culture is the only one in the Church, and his reverence is the only way to show it. 

The Holy Father has rebuked us from his own marvelous Italian/Argentinian experience. He has reminded us not every Catholic has to agree with everything about the Church and its teachings. We are gathered by the Holy Spirit and no one can say why she is in the Church or why someone else should not be. That call is God's. The Lord is God.