Somehow today I found myself sitting at 11:30 a.m. Mass in my parish.  I have been rather hermetic for quite some time now in  that department.  I was just sitting in bed, doing my Sunday morning crossword puzzle, when it came over me that I wanted to go to Mass.  I texted my friend, Terri and asked what Mass she was going to and planned to meet up with her there.  It was only while I was getting ready to go that I remembered a dream I had last night.

In my dream, I was in a public place, like a farmer’s market or something, and crossed paths with John Kasper, OSFS, our pastor.  We greeted each other warmly and went on our way quickly, both of us with places to go, things to do.    John is from Ohio, and is the nicest guy you’d ever want to meet, but that’s not to say we haven’t butted heads on occasion.  Well, okay, it’s usually me doing the butting, but he’s no pushover.  I think it’s safe to say that we both love and respect each other greatly.   Unlike me, who liberally goes into monastic mode and eschews the community aspect of my religion for periods of time, John is committed to leading his parishioners as best he can, and with the various decrees from Rome dogging his heels.  He does it day after day, year after year, and I pray for him a lot.  I cannot be easy to be a Catholic priest these days.  He’s amazing, really.

I haven’t shown my face around the parish in a long time, but when I am involved I am involved, so people know my face.  I am a cantor, I do my share of the work at the parish carnival (including making a total fool of myself advertising the Oktoberfest as the Fraulein from Mundelein – I have retired her and want to do a spoof of Danke Schoen dressed as Wayne Newton but so far I have lost that particular head-butting session with John).   John accepts my retreats in stride now, and always greets me with his big smile when I show up again, as he did today. When I told him about my dream he laughed his huge laugh and said to Terri: “In my neck of the woods we call that a NIGHTMARE!”   

I didn’t get out of the Church after Mass without being dragged over to the new music minister who was told my voice is “like an angel’s.”  Many people greeted me and said how nice it is to see me.  I teased them that really should stop this trick I play – to stay away just long enough for people to miss me and make me feel like Saint Mary when I return. 

The reality is that I missed them, too.  Community is difficult for me.  I am a loner at heart.  I get easily irritated by the human faults of my fellow parishioners, and even more irritated when they don’t seem to be irritated by mine at all.  Today’s Gospel reading? The Prodigal Son.  I’m no prodigal, I keep my faith alive and kickin’ when I don’t attend Mass regularly (see Retreat), but it seemed serendipitous anyway.  The final hymn is a perennial favorite and was the first song I ever sang solo for a crowd: Amazing Grace.  Guess it was also right and true that I be dragged back to the music minister to shake his hand.  The last time I was away for a period of time, the first song that was scheduled when I returned as cantor was “How Can I Keep From Singing.”  The community got a kick out of that one when I pointed it out.

Don’t tell me the Holy Spirit is not alive and well in the Catholic Church. From where I stand in the little community of St. Perpetua, it’s still there, fooling around under the pews during Mass with the little ones, in the kitchen where the donuts are prepared for the kids after Mass, in the church hall where we participate in the Winter Nights program and house homeless people during the winter, protecting the old timers who still show up much more faithfully than I do.   This morning, the Holy Spirit called to me from my dreams, led me away from my crossword puzzle and back to the community that nourishes my faith so that I may take my occasional sabbaticals.  It is my turn again to return the favor in a way that may be uncomfortable to me at times.  Time to take the light out from under the bushel basket yet again.  See y’all next Sunday…