From the Pastor’s Desk
Anytime a priest changes parish assignments, it can be overwhelming. Luckily, I have the advantage of my parents living only 50 minutes away in Elk Grove. When I arrived on Thursday evening, June 30th, they happily helped move my boxes into Fr. Berg’s old rooms. I even had generous parishioners from my previous parish in Portola help bring down a few loads of my belongings. As I unpacked, I was amazed how much I accumulated over the last six years in the Sierra Mountains.
What makes the transition to a new parish difficult is not only adjusting to a new living situation but getting to “know” the parish. Each church has its own unique culture, history, and way of doing things. The hundreds of new faces that I’ve met since I arrived can easily become a blur as I strive to learn your names. If I look like a deer in headlights, it’s probably because I often feel confused and dazed, not knowing which task to tackle next. Thankfully, the parish staff and volunteers here at St. Mary’s are amazingly good at their jobs. They’ve been patiently guiding Fr. Reji and I, always telling us what needs to be done next and where we’re expected to go.
Over the next few months, I envision myself being a humble observer in listening mode. My wish is to get to know you and you to get to know me. And that, my dear friends, will always take time. As I said in my first homily last weekend, I come with no gimmicks, secret agendas, or special programs. I hope to bring nothing new, in fact. I simply want to be a faithful priest of Jesus Christ and proclaim His Good News. Over my forty-two years of life on earth, I’ve come to realize the Catholic Faith is the most spectacular gift ever given to humanity. Yes, even taking into account our human failings. Within her treasure chest contains the fullness of Christ himself. Where else can we encounter such a brilliant reality? It’s like staring directly into the corona of the sun itself. My task is to point you where to look. The bishop, St. Augustine, writing in the 4th century famously quipped about the Catholic faith, “The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose; it will defend itself.” I want to free this lion. The only question becomes how?
Jesus always desires the best for us. He never ceases to call us deeper into communion with him. The great challenge is to learn how to listen to his “still small voice” in the cacophony of noise that we call the modern world. Many voices scream at us to follow them. The Christian disciple, however, must train to recognize his voice. Only in humility can this be done. Only in prayer can he be heard.
