A weekly column by Father George Rutler.
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
At Noon on September 17, 2001, I became your Pastor, and at Noon
on August 1 in this year of 2013 I relinquish that duty and move on to
new work assigned to me by our Cardinal. At the farewell gathering so
splendidly hosted by you, I was shown photographs from many events in
those years. Of them all, I was especially drawn to the one of me in a
safety helmet and covered with dust on the day our city was attacked,
and thousands were killed at the World Trade Center. Although I had not
yet officially become Pastor, I was in the process of moving in, and I
was one of the many who were given water from canteens in front of our
church. That beginning of my pastorate was in no metaphorical way a
baptism by fire. God who brings good out of ill has since blessed us in
countless ways, but Canon law does require some accounting. In those
twelve years in our parish, 623 have been baptized into Christ, 433 have
been united in Holy Matrimony, 79 have been blessed in death as they
enter the larger life, and many others have been anointed in the
hospitals.
Our Lord knows that 99 sheep are not enough if one more is lost.
Since 2001 our flock has doubled, and there have been among them nearly a
dozen who have been called to the priesthood. While I am the only
priest in this parish, the visiting priests who assist in various ways
have been a great support. I have heard in these twelve years possibly
around 45 or 50 thousand confessions, and my fellow priests may have
doubled that. No one save the angels in Heaven will know the wonderful
graces that have been given in our confessionals, and that has been a
chief joy to me, along with the priestly vocations of those fine young
men who have been like sons to me. Our small parish staff have always
been loyal, and those who help in other ways have graciously preferred
to go unnamed. The volunteer faculty of our CCD classes, which have
grown ten-fold, could more than match the finest of any school, and
young people come from long distances for the Pre-Cana program which is
unsurpassed for its sound teaching of the joy of true marriage. The holy
Liturgy has been accompanied year after year by our music director and
choir. The men and boys who are our altar servers have instinctively and
happily followed the directives of the Holy See, shunning theatrics and
the clericalization of the laity by the misuse of Extraordinary
Ministers of the Eucharist as though they were ordinary. During the week
I have been grateful for the service of Deacon Frank Orlando, who has
recently been made director of formation for permanent deacons in the
Archdiocese. Our lectors read the sacred lessons of God’s lively oracles
with dignity, and even cut short their ballgames and surfing in the
summer to do so.
The good people of our parish, along with our extended family far
and wide, have sacrificed to change the financial situation of this
parish. Twelve years ago we were burdened under millions of dollars of
mortgage and other debts and costs for the repair of a building in which
everything seemed to be collapsing at the same time. All that has been
reversed, every penny of debt is paid, and the church has virtually been
reconstructed, along with the installation of a new organ and many
other improvements, renovations and fine art. Our Lord was not fortunate
in the one he chose to hold the moneybag, but the same Lord mercifully
sent me trustees whose selfless devotion in these challenging years will
bring them a reward more than I can give. There may have been times
when my concern about the dire financial situation of our church made me
seem, in the vernacular expression, cheap. Part of me is Scottish, a
people known to practice thrift to an heroic degree, and in recent years
I have even been made chaplain to our city’s two leading Scottish
societies. What once was owed is now matched by what is held in fixed
funds for the maintenance of the church. The daily costs remain the
responsibility of the people, in addition to our charitable and
evangelical obligations, and I leave in the good hope that the results
of the hard work of many will be preserved and stewardship will
increase.
Perhaps someday if I am permitted repose, I shall read into the
record the lessons I have learned from people. That would not be an
exercise in flattery or criticism, both of which are unworthy of a
Christian, but it would be advice for our children when they are grown.
When I became Pastor of this parish, there were saints among us who
guided me, and there were others who may become saints in a lengthier
period beyond this world, but who did not make things easy for me. They
were much tamer than Alexander the coppersmith (2 Timothy 4:14). I trust
that in the future there will be no retreat to the old mistakes and
abuses which have been addressed by our recent Popes.
I have grown to love St. Paul more and more, and part of that is
because, just as he tried to explain the Gospel on Mars Hill in Athens, I
have tried in a shamefully poorer way to do that here on Murray Hill in
New York City. Since he is the saint that I am not, my only affinities
with him are in his love of the Master, and his love for his people.
That love was evident at Miletus when he said farewell to the elders he
had summoned from Ephesus as he was embarking for Jerusalem. “And when
he had spoke thus, he knelt down and prayed with them all. And they all
wept and embraced Paul and kissed him, sorrowing most of all because of
the word he had spoken, that they should see his face no more. And they
brought him to the ship” (Acts 20:36-38). I am only going to the far
west side of Manhattan and not to Jerusalem, and you may see me from
time to time, and instead of boarding a ship I may be on the 34th Street
bus. But I do kneel like him as I leave, with happy tears of thanks for
having been among you.
Faithfully yours in Our Saviour,
Fr. George W. Rutler
No comments:
Post a Comment