(The following is edited from a 17^thcentury nun’s prayer.  I thought it was worth sharing.)

Lord thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday actually be old.  With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but thou knowest, Lord, that I want to still have a few friends at the end, so I send you this prayer.

Release me, Lord, from my craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs.  

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.  Keep me free from the recital of endless details.  Give me wings to get to the point.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody.  Seal my lips on my aches and pains but give me the patience to endure the tales of other’s pains.  

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.  I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.

I don’t want to be a Saint – they can be so hard to live with – but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.  So I ask Lord that you give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places – and talents in unexpected people.  And give me the grace to tell them so.

Amen

We Will Miss Him

Our pastor died last night.  Father Paul Campbell.  

I didn't know him well.  Not personally.   But I go to Mass frequently during the week -- and of course on Sundays -- and I came to look forward to, and really appreciate his homilies.  

On weekdays they were short -- never more than 3 minutes -- but always straight forward with a clear, specific message to carry through the day.   

On Sundays he became the dramatic story teller, engaging the entire congregation.  He would pull out a particular phrase from the days gospel or prayers -- often some remote passage -- and he would frown or maybe laugh, sometimes mimic or exaggerate -- whatever it took to draw us in.   And then he would explain the doctrine, the meaning, the logic and common sense of those words and impress on us how that phrase, written so long ago, is not only relevant but vitally important in our lives today.

He made us think.  He encouraged us to question.  He met the challenges and criticism of the church today with honest admission of our shortcomings and failings -- and with prayer, hope and encouragement for the church.   And he always insisted that the church be "inclusive" -- that Christ's message and love is for every single person!

These are just a few of the things I will remember from his teaching.  These are the reasons I was so grateful that he came to our parish. 

This morning a small group gathered in the chapel for our regular Monday morning Mass -- a young priest from the local seminary was at the alter -- and in our hearts many of us were questioning "Why?"  Why would God let this man who was spreading God's message so effectively be taken away?  Why would this man who had so much to share and the ability to teach and influence so many in such positive ways, be struck down so suddenly?  

Maybe Father Paul himself gave the answer -- just a few weeks ago in one of his weekday homilies he said  "When you don't understand why something happens, remember the Lord's Prayer -- 'Thy Will Be Done'. "   

Too simple an answer?  Perhaps.  But I think that phrase holds much more truth than simple acceptance.  I'll have more thoughts to share about that in my next blog.    

Meanwhile, we pray for the repose of the soul of Father Paul Campbell, and ask God to comfort his family and friends.