Sunday Best
Our Catholic parish in Northwestern New Jersey encompassed a small rural community for most of my growing up years. The beloved pastor and a few hundred families celebrated the liturgy in a converted barn on a hilltop. When retiring local farmers sold their properties to housing developers, neighborhoods sprang up instead of corn stalks, and our parish grew. It became too much for one man to shepherd, despite Fr. Morris being completely dedicated to his flock.
Around 1970, Franciscan friars from New York City began to assist Fr. Morris on weekends. Each Saturday afternoon, one of these visiting priests traveled 56 miles on the interstate highway to our parish. The friar would hear confessions, say one or two of the weekend Masses, and return to the city after the last Sunday liturgy. Their attire reminded us of St. Francis, with brown sandals, a long robe, and a rosary hanging from a tasseled rope belt. The Franciscans came with servants’ hearts, humor, and accents from places like Brooklyn and Queens.
One of these friars, Fr. Bill Hayes, had a voice and demeanor that exuded compassion. He spoke a kind word to everyone, and prefaced his homilies with amusing anecdotes. Fr. Bill routinely inserted a reassuring ad lib in the liturgy, just after the Lord’s Prayer. “Keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety and useless worry,” he would pray. I have friends who still whisper those words, “and useless worry,” at that point in the Mass. Decades later, when Fr. Bill’s name is mentioned to any of us old-timers who remember him, our eyes glaze over with nostalgia and affection.
The Sacrament of Reconciliation was Fr. Bill’s gift. He had an uncanny ability to discern more than what a penitent confessed. Occasionally, he offered words of understanding or advice in addition to absolution. He effectively corrected a misconception I had developed during adolescence about God as a judge. I can still hear the New York-ese in Fr. Bill’s counsel to me: “He’s a loving Fathah!” Even my Dad, who was reticent in his comments about our holy priests, was moved to marvel at Fr. Bill’s humanity as a confessor.
After my husband and I were married for a while, it seemed that we might be infertile. I confessed to Fr. Bill that I was frustrated with Lord because of this. Fr. Bill assured me, “You will have a child.” He added with emphasis, “I know you will.” Within a year, my daughter was born. I often have wondered at the sheer guts it took for a priest to make such a prediction. What if he were wrong? Somehow, I think Fr. Bill knew that his prediction was correct, from Wisdom beyond my ken.
How did this friar become so compassionate and intuitive? I suspect it is the influence of another holy priest whom Fr. Bill once encountered.
One Sunday in his homily, Fr. Bill spoke of a trip to Europe that he had made some years earlier. Late one day after touring holy places in Italy, Fr. Bill found himself at San Giovanni Rotundo. He had a little time before the next scheduled event, and he decided to see if he could meet the renowned Capuchin friar, Padre Pio. Fr. Bill asked a staff member at the Rotundo about it, and was told that no, the good Padre had finished hearing confessions for the day and would not be seeing anyone.
A kindly and unobtrusive man, Fr. Bill nodded and moved on. He wandered until he came upon an empty hallway. One unguarded hall led to another, which ultimately led to a little room. Seated in a chair in that room was a small man in priestly garb. “I’ve been waiting for you,” the priest said. It was Padre Pio.
And the American friar spoke with Padre Pio from Pietrelcina.
Fr. Bill’s homily about the Capuchin priest took place a few years after Padre Pio had passed away. As to the content of their conversation, I’m not sure that Fr. Bill elaborated on it. Fr. Bill gave a wonderful witness about this holy man, the stigmatist of our own era. But I don’t recall him describing any specific counsel that the saint had given him.
As I consider Fr. Bill’s impact on me and my fellow parishioners, I’m not sure I need to know what the two friars said to one another. The influence of Padre Pio was apparent in Fr. Bill’s abilities as a confessor and spiritual guide. Like Saint Pio, Fr. Bill had gifts of understanding, counsel, and piety. He knew his penitents’ dispositions, and gave wise and practical spiritual advice. He exemplified holiness and trust in the Lord.
Padre Pio of Pietrelcina was canonized in 2002, twenty or more years after Fr. Bill’s homily about him. Over the years, I learned more of this holy priest, his humor and wisdom, and his supernatural gifts of bilocation and discerning his penitents’ spiritual condition. Often as I heard of Padre Pio, I would consider how his mission was continued by the American Franciscan who had first taught us about him in our New Jersey parish. I read Saint Pio’s advice, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry,” and I think of Fr. Bill reminding us weekly at Mass that worry is useless.
How wonderful the way the Lord uses his servants. One helps another and grace abounds.