“It’s such a lonely life!”
I heard this from an earnest parishioner less than two years after my ordination to the priesthood. I know this because I was still Associate Pastor at Holy Spirit, my first assignment between June 1999 and September 2001. I had just shared my experience about my first year of ministry in a meeting when this parishioner, a well-intentioned mother with several sons, said those words to me.
I am known for being quick-witted, and I recall my immediate answer to her statement. With a smile, I said, “Follow me around for twenty-four hours so you can show me the lonely part!” It was a good retort and was met with a genuine chuckle, but ever since that evening, I have returned again and again to that brief conversation.
Sooner than I ever anticipated, I moved suddenly from a serene position at Holy Spirit to becoming temporary administrator of Church of the Ascension where the parishioners had learned of their pastor’s sudden resignation on September 11, 2001. Yes, that day of all days! I had no idea of what I had “gotten myself into,” and rather quickly I formed an idea that “I was in way over my head.” Within months, I applied to be the pastor, was appointed during Thanksgiving week, and experienced another two years of adjusting, learning, making mistakes—some of them whoppers – before I began to feel I had a handle on my new role.
After those rocky first years at Ascension, I went through a concerted and controversial debate about closing Ascension school and merging into a regional school with two other parishes. I listened to my heart, and more important, to my parishioners and said, “No”— which invited the anticipated backlash and resentment from the archdiocese as well as from the other pastors. Six years ago, I went through the same whirlwind feelings regarding St. James School, with the same backlash and resentment, this time from the archdiocese. Once again, I followed my heart and my conscience and my parishioners but felt the loneliness of estrangement.
The woman at Holy Spirit was being a prophet when she warned me, “It’s such a lonely life.” However, she wasn’t speaking only about priesthood, but rather any of us when we are faced with controversy, confusion, disagreement, and estrangement. I have seen it in families, in marriages, in workplaces, as well as in people on an uncertain spiritual journey. Twenty-six years since my ordination in 1999, I have experienced the roller coaster that all of us experience one way or the other as our life unfolds. There have been lonely moments, yes, but in the end, there have been many more rewarding moments.
I have just completed my 26th year of ordained ministry, the last eleven years in these two parishes. I will celebrate my 70th birthday this December and will start drawing Social Security. I will be actively involved in the Archdiocesan Pastoral Planning process for the next eighteen months. I am so grateful and appreciative of how all of you have been with me in spirit and in person on this roller coaster ride. Even with occasional lonely moments, I can say with certainty that I wouldn’t have it any other way.
