Yesterday was a full day for me and I didn’t get back to my room in the rectory till 11:58pm. I tried to go on line and put in some brief comment but my phones in the rectory were off line and so were my computer and my tv. Finally at 12:15am, I gave up and went to bed.
However, I did want you to hear about Sunday. I had the 10:30am Mass in the gym. It is always a delight to me as we have at least 100 families with lots of little kids and a fairly good number of adults who come regularly. At the Saturday Mass, I preached about St. Joseph and what a model he is for all of us but I decided to tell a story and make them laugh and then talk about St. Joseph and how just as he bent his will to God, we sometimes struggle with that, and there will a parish penance service on Monday in which through the intercession of St. Joseph we could really get ready for Christmas.
So I began my homily by telling them that I spent the night before my Confirmation at my Irish grandparent’s house. In those day the bishop only came every five years of so and so while I was only in third grade, my sister Maggie was in fifth grade and the bishop was confirming everyone from third to eighth grade. Since we lived in a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, my parents sent me to stay at my grandparents so we’d all have room to get ready.
Just before I was going to bed, my grandmother asked what saint’s name I was taking, I said, “St. Tarcissius”. I think she said, “Mother of God and who in heaven’s name is St. Tarksillius?”
The year before as we preparing to receive our First Holy Communion, St. Anne Bernard had told us about this wonderful little boy saint, who, because he looked so young and innocent, was used to take Holy Communion to those in prison during the first few centuries of the Church when Christians were persecuted and put to death for their faith. I thought he was the perfect Saint’s name because if the Communist ever came to America and put Catholics in jail, I would have volunteered to bring them Communion.
My grandmother called her daughter- in- law( my mother) and said, “Frances, do you know what Saint young Maury is taking tomorrow?? Tarkalissus!”. My mom asked to speak to me and she said, “What is your Saint’s name?” I said, “Saint Tarcissius. I told you about him and you signed the paper!” She said, “When you are the mother of four children, you sign lots of papers!” Now you really have upset your grandmother, so why don’t you take Vincent, like your father did? I’ll explain to the Sisters”.
It was years later that I learned that my Irish grandmother had though that Tarkalissus or whoever he was, was a Polish Saint and that my Polish grandmother had influenced my decision.
After much discussion about Patrick, and Edward, my Mom suggested St. Joseph. I really didn’t know much about him but I gave in to please my Mom. Over the years and especially in the seminary, I came to know and love St. Joseph on so many levels. Also God has sent many special Josephs and Joes into my life.
And so I suggested that St. Joseph, whom we had heard about in the gospel, was a person, who loved Mary, intended to marry her and raise a family but that when he knew she was having a baby and he had nothing to do with it, that he would just quietly end the plans to get married. But an angel came and reminded him of what Isaiah said in our first reading and then told him that God wanted him to take Mary into his home. All his plans changed and he bent his will and his future to God’s will. Often we find it very hard to bend our wills to God and those time are often times of sin. We have a great opportunity to pray, reflect, bend our will, and start anew our relationship with God and others. Come to the parish penance service on Monday.
On leaving, lots of people asked what time the service would be – and many wanted to know how to spell “Tarcissius”
At noon, I had the priviledge of baptizing Patrick Brian Joyce, 7 year old “all boy” grandson of the cousin of Mary Carroll Pendergraph Smith, another dear friend from St. Camillus days as well as a classmate of Marie’s from Notre Dame. It was a great ceremony in our chapel topped off with lunch at Ledo’s on River Road.
Then I came home for a short nap and headed over to pick up Fr. Trancone and go to Patty Petrone’s house in Mitchellville. Her sister, Rose; her daughter Molly, and Meg Woodbridge Mills (All St. B’s people) had us over for mastacuelli (I don’t think that is spelled correctly), a delicious pasta that their mother, Mrs. Petrone had made for me many times when she helped out as a cook at the rectory when I was pastor of St. Bernard’s. She passed on the “secret recipe” to Rose and now we are developing a tradition of her preparing it for Fr. T and me during Advent. We also decorated cookies (and ate a few) and we both came home with tins of cookies and pasta for later! And hard to believe there were hours of laughter and stories that caused me not to get home until just before Midnight – And now you know the rest of the story why there was no posting yesterday!