June Brings Too Many Goodbyes in Our Church

My husband and I have been active in every parish to which we have belonged. Since childhood, we have both been devout and active members of the Church. After we were married we moved into the parish my husband grew up in, and lived there for eleven years.

We became close to the priests assigned to the parish—they were Franciscans--my husband always says he was raised by two parents and an assembly of Franciscan Friars. They became important to us as a couple, as well. Regrettably, we’d just get close to them, and then they were transferred to another parish.

When you’re young, you shrug it off, become acquainted with the new associate pastors, and let the others go. Although we continued to have friendships with several of them, they, too, must move on, make new attachments, and become close to their new parishioners.

When we moved from New Jersey to a new home in Pennsylvania, it took some adjustment to become familiar with a new archdiocese, the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, and secular priests rather than order priests. Things were a little different, and we were strangers. It took a while before we felt comfortable enough to get involved.

We reminded ourselves that Mass wasn’t what we “got out of it” but what we “put into it.” So my husband and I became lectors, extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist, and joined other committees and programs. Eventually, my husband entered the diaconate formation program, a calling he had felt for many years, and he was supported and cheered on by our pastor and priests to ordination.

Every year we were assigned a transitional deacon. A smart move by the archdiocese since our pastor, Monsignor Picard, knows exactly how to help a young priest adjust to parish work. And we are blessed to have newly ordained priests assigned to us every few years—they learn how to be true shepherds, but that brings changes.

We just get to know them, trust them, and yes, love them, and then we sit in the pews and hear the devastating news that this one or that one is being moved to another parish. There are so many things I love about being Catholic, but this is one thing I can’t wrap my mind around. Sometimes I decide that I’m just not going to let myself become fond of the new priests; this way I won’t have to experience the loss. But new priests have a way of winning me over.

Naturally, they’re all different with different personalities and perspectives, yet we have been fortunate that all the priests we have known have been good and decent men. We need these men, they are the future of our Church, and it’s important we open our hearts to them…even if it means the sadness of the “revolving door” of reassignment.

The one constant in our parish has been our pastor. Monsignor Picard has shepherded us for thirty-five years, and he is still beloved. New priests have come and gone, but he has remained a continual presence in our lives.

Monsignor has been our strength and stay. He has led what has become the largest parish in the archdiocese. Many of his parishioners were always members, but because we live in an area that is constantly growing, with parishioners moving in because of work assignments and then out for the same reason, and others who move in and decide to stay, it has been imperative that our parish be willing to make room for the new people, to be flexible and kind. Monsignor has set the tone for that environment. Insisted on it.

He built a new parish school, three times the size of the original, renovated the church with new pews to accommodate new families, and established small faith groups so that our large parish doesn’t seem too overwhelming.

He guided our parish through it all. He fathered us through it all. He knew when to say yes, that’s a great idea, and when to say no, we can’t do that—one of the most important lessons every pastor must master. And master it he has.

A good man…a holy priest…a fair pastor…a spiritual mentor…a hero…a dear friend…that is all the things a good pastor must be. He must be a leader, a listener, an example of Christ day in and day out…aware of what the secular world is demanding while remaining steady and committed to the teachings of the Church. He must understand that his parishioners are facing that secular world every day and with a gentle hand, he pilots them always to the truth.

June came again. This time it took our pastor with it. He’s off to a semi-retirement where he will be at the seminary, a spiritual mentor for the new men coming up the path, following in Christ’s footsteps, and who will one day be pastors. May they learn well from him.

It is a very good place for him; ah, but it is heartbreaking for those of us who have shared our happiness, our baptisms, first communions, confirmations, confessions, burials, family problems, family joys…our lives in all aspects. Imagine how hard this June was for us and for him. Perhaps being assigned to one parish for many years makes it harder when they leave. Maybe the Church is wise to reassign them after a few years.

June means change in the Church. It means renewal and the necessity to open our hearts again and again. It means looking toward the future, albeit with some trepidation, but also with hope. And isn’t that what Christ wanted? Change…renewal…opened hearts and minds…never being stagnant in our faith and our acceptance of others?

We bid goodbye to our shepherd—a good and faithful follower of the Good Shepherd—and we say hello, welcome, to a new one. And it is all in God’s plan.

June…perhaps too many goodbyes, but there are many wonderful hellos. We’ve but to see God’s hand in what happens in our parishes, in our families, and in our lives. If we didn’t have the June goodbyes, we’d never know the new good and holy priests that will come and win our hearts and share important aspects of our lives.

God’s hand is shown to us in every June change.

Ah, but it isn’t always easy.