Latrobe

I am glad that I took the time yesterday to visit former parishioners in Latrobe. All the visits were great, but the last brief one touched my heart the most. I stopped by to see a woman whom I regularly visited on First Fridays. Normally I wouldn't accede to a request that I come on a particular day, but "Ella" was especial. I still remember my first First Friday visit; she was nonplussed by the fact that I was wearing khaki (not black!) pants. Clearly she was very "old school." However it didn't take us long at all to establish a real connection. Despite the fact that I was most definitely different from my predecessor - and from her expectations - she saw that I was trying to serve the Lord - and her. As our relationship deepened I relished any opportunity to help her with some of difficulties in her life. She became one of those people of whom I can honestly say that I was blessed to have had the opportunity to minister. (Of course every person to whom one ministers is a blessing, but I trust dear reader that you know what I mean!)

Her reaction when I rang her doorbell in the late afternoon yesterday was priceless and reminded me of why I love being a priest. There is no greater feeling than to realize that you have been able to bring joy to another human being. That joy coming not ultimately from oneself, but rather from the One whom one represents - Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. May He be praised forever and ever unto ages unending. Amen.

A-HA!

On the way to my dad's this afternoon I had one of those revelatory moments that seem to strike out of the blue, one of those "a-ha!" moments when that which one knows to be intellectually true is suddenly felt in the very core of one's being. As I drove the twists and turns of Route 201 I found myself contemplating the gifts with which God has abundantly blessed me, especially those which serve me so well in ministry. Invariably, as soon as such thoughts enter my mind, I almost immediately am overcome with the realization that I am completely undeserving of anything from Him. The older I get, the more I lose the zealousness of my youth, the more overpowering this sense of complete unworthiness becomes. I compare the priest I am now to the priest I was (or more accurately - imagined myself to be!) in years gone by. Inevitably I decide that, rather than ascending towards the summit of priestly perfection with the passing of the years, I have been sliding steadily downhill. This realization serves only to deepen the guilt I feel when pondering God's gifts. It was in the midst of these guilt-filled thoughts that God made me to understand, in my heart, that all His gifts are just that - GIFTS. Nothing I have received has come because of my own efforts, my own worthiness, my own holiness. I have absolutely nothing to do with any of it. It is ALL His doing. How liberating to know that I do not have to earn anything from God! How free this knowledge leaves me to live a life of loving gratitude to the God Whose generosity knows no bounds!

A Sign?

Sometime around 5 this afternoon I visited my 9th communion call of the day. I had done 5 this morning after Mass and before heading off for a few hours of fun hauling stuff to Geibel. Then after visiting the funeral home for a Vigil Service I managed 4 more. Beverly was the last of the day. In the course of our conversation she asked if I would be interested in an angel or two. She had been collecting Roman's Seraphim Angel figurines and had amasses quite a collection (hundreds by my reckoning). She decided it was time to "cull the herd" and wanted to dispose of all but her favourites. I was happy to take her up on her offer and after perusing the proffered selection chose a beautiful trumpet-blowing angel named Annalisa. I was happy to take one of the angels because my mother collected them as well. However, it wasn't until that moment that it struck me that this very day was the eve of the tenth anniversary of her passing from this earthly life. How appropriate to be offered such a gift today of all days! And I could not help but take comfort in the fact that this particular figurine was titled Joyful Spirit.

From several years ago ...

A friend from a former parish recently sent me this clip. Don't know how she found it! I was the keynote speaker for the Diocese of Trenton's Diocesan Youth Celebration and during the course of the day I was interviewed for the Diocese's youth TV program, Real Faith TV. Somewhere in this segment is the interview with me. I never saw the final product; I really can't stand to watch or listen to myself!

Facebook

OK, I admit it. I am an inveterate Facebook addict. I have had an account for years but really did little with it. Then I discovered how easy it was to take pics with my iPhone and immediately upload them to Facebook. Once I realized that, I was hooked.

It has proven to be yet another way to reconnect with people from the past. A whole group of 1984 Geibel grads planned out upcoming reunion through Facebook correspondence. It is also another excellent ministry tool. The Church can never sit back and wait for the people to come to her; she must go out into the world and meet the people where they are. And today they - especially but by no means exclusively the young - are to be found in "places" like Facebook.

Friends have at times accused me of overdoing it; the laugh and mock me for "posting my every move" on Facebook. To a degree they are correct and I deserve the mockery! However, on a very practical level, my "overdoing it" serves to give an "as it happens" view of what the day to day life of a priest is really like. We don't (as I stressed in the bulletin a fortnight or so ago) work a few hours Sunday morning and spend the rest of the week on the links!

If you are on Facebook you can find me by searching "Bob Lubic."

Busy

Three Masses today. Morning Mass in the parish at 8:30 AM. Then a Spanish Mass at St. Sebastian at 9:30 (which I managed to get through unscathed). Then Graduation Mass for Geibel 8th Grade at 6:30.

Tomorrow the same thing ... parish Masses at 8:30 and 6:00 and Geibel Mass at 10:30.

I was worried about the Spanish Mass; I haven't studied Spanish for 26 years. It went well, fortunately. And as long as there weren't any native speakers there my mistakes shouldn't have been all that obvious! My biggest concern when doing such things (I have periodically done Spanish Masses in the past) is that I get "tired" and my pronunciation goes steadily down hill. I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to chant the Eucharistic Prayer. I reasoned that chanting it would slow it down and help me to get the pronunciation correct.