O Master Grant That I May Never Seek So Much To Be Consoled As To Console
Last week, I was lazily checking my e-mail when a new message popped up in my inbox from our family friend, Father Donald, who over the past year or so has been a casual reader of my blog. It was a link to a YouTube video which I promptly ignored, maybe because I rightly assumed it was something religious but probably more so because I usually just ignore people who send me YouTube videos.
Why do I do that? It just seems like so much damn effort to click the link, open a browser, take three minutes to view it, etc. I’m a hateful person. I know.
My older brother Paul DID watch the video and then e-mailed Father Donald to tell him why religion is ruining the world. This is a usual occurrence between the two of them and Paul often forwards me e-mail exchanges between himself and Father Don, a relentless and exhausting debate between an atheist and a dedicated member of the Catholic clergy. For whatever reason, Father Don had recently taken on Paul’s cynical and scientific approach to living with unapologetic zeal.
“These conversations are so ridiculous!” Paul mentioned to me once. “But I can’t help writing back!”
“Well,” I replied. “He’s pretty fun to debate with.”
And it was true.
I know many people have negative ideas about priests, Catholic priests in particular. I have luckily never experienced anything but joy when encountering those holy dudes in robes, probably because of my mother’s relationship with them. As you probably know by now, my mother is an avid Catholic, a woman whose faith is her top priority and who, as a social butterfly, has befriended an innumerable amount of religious people over the course of my lifetime.
Priests and deacons regularly came and went from dinners and birthday parties and barbecues at our house as they moved from parish to parish over the course of their career, often dressed down in street clothes, fooling everyone around them. I still sometimes forget and will be telling a story like, “And then I’m all SHIT, WHAT THE HELL?” and my mom screeches LAURA! and I clasp my hand over my mouth and profusely apologize to the man eating dinner with me who then laughs and tells me it’s not a big deal and please, continue the story it’s HILARIOUS.
Father Donald was a frequent fixture in our lives until he got transferred to a parish in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas. And if my mother was a crazed teenage fanclub member of Catholic Priests, Father Don was like her Bon Jovi. Or her Paul McCartney. Or something. And when he was told that his time with us was up and he was due to head down South, my mother slowly spiraled into a deep depression.
Father Don was king of our church community. His homilies were always that perfect combination of funny and touching. He was a brilliant writer and had a singing voice unlike any other. He loved music and he loved people and he had a very distinct gentle voice that I always hear when I read Paul’s e-mails aloud. His love for the Catholic faith was pretty remarkable. And I believe my mother latched onto a friendship with him because he was THAT charismatic, he was that warm, that gentle, that giving. When he appeared, he was exactly what my mother needed. And when he left, there was a crack in her foundation that I don’t think was ever rightfully repaired.
…
It was Father Donald that introduced us to our friend Bill. And when he was transferred to Texas, the responsibility for Bill fell primarily on my parents’ shoulders, a responsibility they gladly welcomed as hard as it could sometimes be. When Bill passed away last week, Father Don sent out a beautiful e-mail, quoting a snippet of my blog and also telling the story of how he met Bill, of how he accompanied him to the doctor to hear whether or not he was a carrier of Huntington’s Disease. Father Don wrote eloquently about how Bill accepted his diagnosis with grace and how, when he noticed the priest dissolving into tears, exclaimed, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be crying!”
There was a connection between Bill and Father Don much like there was a connection between my mother and Father Don. And about one million other people that knew this incredibly good natured priest, eyes crinkling behind his spectacles, easy way of joking and laughing and sharing the love, as they say. He rarely had the time to come visit and I honestly don’t remember the last time I saw him but I keep in close contact with his niece Teresa and my mother chats with him on the phone now and then. He commented on my blog a few times and sends me YouTube videos occasionally but I believe he spent the majority of his time making other people happy, making other people feel loved and when he had a spare second, I believe he was trying to save my brother’s soul via fierce and intelligent e-mail debate.
Bill’s death brought up a resurgence of Father Donald contact—the e-mail about Bill’s death, the phonecalls to my mother about funeral arrangements, the many tears and emotions that one goes through when a friend dies. My mother caught him a few days ago as he was on his way to church and he promised to call her back a few hours later. It was the last time they spoke.
On Saturday morning, while out mowing his lawn, Father Donald suffered a heart attack and died instantly at the tender age of fifty-five.
It strikes me as very odd and somewhat eerie, that Bill died and a few days later, Father Donald did too. That we cried and mourned and said goodbye, put one foot back on the ground and got walloped flat on our backs again. I am most overwhelmed when I think about his family and close friends, those who knew him intimately and held him in highest regard. I worry for my mother especially because she is not taking this well. I don’t think anyone is.
He was simply too good a man, too beautiful a soul, even if I was all, “Okay, enough with the YouTube videos about Jesus.”
And even when Paul was ready to throw his computer out the window after epic e-mails about the sanctity of life and the certainty of Jesus’ death on the cross, you couldn’t doubt that Father Don, at the very least, cared. That he valued you enough to piss you off. That at the end of the day, he could turn around and laugh at it. That he held his Catholic faith above everything else and unlike most people, this made him a better person, less rigid, more forgiving, gentler, kinder, truer, real.
I hope he’s up on a cloud with Bill right now, hanging out, keeping him company, keeping close watch on everyone down here. All weekend long, I’ve found myself pausing, looking up to the sky and offering them a small wave. Just to say hey. Thanks for those e-mails. Thanks for caring. The world is not the same without you in it.
Aw, man, even I knew Father Don through his posts in your blog. I’m so sorry. My condolences to you and your family.
I think being an atheist is just as much a leap of faith as being a believer. I also think the idea that religion is ruining the world is utter rubbish. So would be the idea that atheism is any kind of cure for the ills of the world.
The USSR was one of the most oppressive regimes of the 20th century, killed tens of millions, subjugated hundreds of millions more, and was adamantly atheist. Red China has also killed tens of millions, subjugated hundreds of millions more, and is also adamantly atheist. Adolph Hitler paid lip service to Christianity when he was rising to power, but was rabidly anti-Christian behind closed doors. No surprise there. He killed a couple people, too.
I don’t think it’s an accident that the most anti-religious regimes on the planet have been the most deadly. Atheism devalues human life. It’s the surest path to moral relativism and all the horrors that follow.
“When one thinks coldly, I see no reason for attributing to man a significance different in kind from that which belongs to a baboon or to a grain of sand.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
Those are the words of an atheist. No wonder mass death follows when such people come to power.
I’m a little weepy after reading your post. I didn’t know the man, but because of your words, even I, a heathen stranger, think the world is probably a little bit sadder for his passing.
Thanks for the great tribute. I only knew Fr. Don when he came to SJW to see his brother and sister in law, Nick and Betty. I remember him as a caring and quiet priest, at least that’s my memory.
I think it’s part of the call to priesthood, to die unaccompanied by anyone else than The Priest. Sort of like that movie The Vikings, when Kirk Douglas or someone sailed off into the fjord on the burning ship. I think that the uniqueness of the call to be a priest is this. We ain’t better than anyone else, (God and anyone who really knows us, knows that) but we are different, and our faith tells us that the only real priest was Christ, and that we who call ourselves such simply participate in his priesthood. Death becomes apogee, and all before, preliminary.
When sheepish breath comes to say goodbye,
and bereft of my friend oxygen;
In the chilled sweat of my death will I
what lights so pure to candle my end see;
To be still as she covers me; and
what I had so wrong thought to be
unforgiving darkness all round me, is
but bright of your transparency.
I’m so sorry to hear about yet another loss of a family friend.
I don’t want to turn this beautiful post into a debate about religion, but I want to respond to Tim’s comment.
To characterize all atheists by comparison to the USSR, Red China, or Hitler is the same as to say that all Catholic priests are child molestors.
I personally am a non-believer and don’t feel that athiests/agnostics/non-believers have the same freedom of religion as other people in the US. Freedom of religion means freedom not to believe, too. I have found many religious people to be the most intolerant of my lack of belief in a god. It makes me sad and it makes me hide my true beliefs for fear of judgement.
Oh! My heart squeezes for you.
I was not raised catholic but have been very blessed to have had priests in my life who have been the light of Christ. I would not be who I am today (and I’m pretty okay with who I am) without them.
My prayers are with you and all of those who loved Fr. Don. May flowers bloom in the garden he tended.
Abbie, I personally feel that moral atheists are the most moral people in the world, because they are moral for its own sake with no expectation of any eternal reward. However, it bugs me when atheists think religion is the cause of the world’s problems, because, in terms of the history of atheist regimes, that’s a stone they are throwing from a glass house. A very big glass house. Like, huge.
Sorry for your difficulties as a non-believer. I do not look down on non-believers. In fact, being judgmental is non-Christian:
Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment that you pronounce you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, “Let me take the speck out of your eye,” when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
On a more personal note, I’ve loved your comments in Laura’s blog these past several months. Reading your thoughts has been a joy and this time is no different. Thank you for sharing them.
Tim- Agreed that athiests aren’t the moral superiors some claim to be.
And turtles
Laura- Also wanted to let you know I lost a cousin to suicide and a friend to suicide less than a month later less than 10 years ago. I totally understand the feeling of just getting back on your feet and being knocked over again. Take time to mourn, and don’t feel guilty when you’re ready to be happy again.
Hey Laura- thanks for the tribute to Uncle Donald.
You hit on so many aspects of the person that he was.
This morning, before I told my 4 year old son, Liam, about Uncle Donald “going to heaven,” Liam told me that he had dreamt about Uncle Donald. This was how it went…
“Mommy, I had a dream about Uncle Donald last night. No, not last night, the night before that” he says.
“Really, Liam, what was the dream about?” I asked him.
“Oh, we were sitting on the floor playing, making funny faces at each other and making silly noises, like this (insert silly noises)”
So I asked Liam where they were. He responds “At his house.”
Anyway, I share this with you because I think it captured his spirit. He was not afraid to get down on the floor with my kids and play and be silly, just like he wasn’t ashamed to sign for the deaf during Mass or sing the Eucharistic prayer or dance.
He was who he was.
I will miss him more than I think I even know.
Thanks again for writing about him- it was beautifully written.
Laura, I am so sorry for yet another loss….sometimes life just sux! He sounds like such a beautiful man. You brought me to tears…
Tim - Thanks! I’m not going to touch on your atheist comments but eeeeep. Count yourself lucky if Paul never makes it over here.
Julie - Thank you, heathen stranger
Fr. Bob - Hello! Yes, he was a very quiet and caring priest. I truly admire the work that you do as I’ve always considered a priest’s life a very lonely and difficult one. The selflishness you seem to lack never ceases to inspire me.
Abbie - WELL SAID. And yes, thank you! This week has certainly been a doozy…
Debbiy - How beautiful your words. Thank you.
Jane - I am so sorry for your loss. Little Liam! Oh my goodness, how sweet and accurate. He definitely was who he was with no apologies. Absolutely wonderful. So so so sorry you, Liam and Grace have lost the wonderful Uncle Donald.
Thank you Jo! It does. It does suck a lot. I suppose I have to believe what Father Donald himself believed, that he is in a better place and with God now. But sometimes I don’t want to believe that. I want to believe that he should PROBABLY COME BACK TO EARTH NOW AND STOP MAKING MY MOM UPSET.
You know, rational thoughts and such.
Oh, Laura. I’m so sorry. This brought tears to my eyes. But how incredible that someone could share so much of himself and bring such beauty to the world during his life.
Thanks Laura, I knew Don touched alot of people. Of my 7 brothers, He was my and Sylvies favorite brother. It was his nature to leave us always better off than before. During his last visit he sweated in my yard planting bushes, flowers, mulching, all the while checking on Sylvie trying to comfort her, making us laugh at his silliness.
I believe that Don started praticing his skills unique ability to tease or rattle our emotions on me. When we were kids Don knew how to push my button. He would tease me, and I would respond by punching him, then he would go to my Mother and I would get punished. This was not fun for me and I did not like him much when we were kids. After I got out of the Army, he had changed. I liked the new Donald. I looked up to him. We didnt always agree, and when I was wrong he promtly admitted it. I admired his ability to respect our differences, and calmly but persitantly present his perspective, and often he made me laugh.
His love for the Church and the Lord were always. present. If there is one person that I could emulate it would be Don. I miss him and believe the world is not as safe, or as much fun. Sylvie also loved Don, they shared a love for gardening, and gave her comfort during her suffering.
In regards to the atheists.. where is the harm in believing that when I die, or if Sylvie dies of her cancer before me, we will be reunited with my Brother, Fr. Don and will resume to be delighted by his presence. I believe that even though you are non believers, when you die you will be given another chance by God. I hope Donald is there to help you in choosing. I guess its good and certainly comforting he will be there to greet Sylvie and I, when we take the big dirt nap. Someone once said to me that when you die, if you can say that you had 5 people that you loved and loved you, you have lived a sucessful life. Donald had many times that. I am very proud of him, and lucky to have been his little brother.
Hi Tom - I am so sorry for your loss. Lovely Fr. Don memories.
To clarify - I am not an atheist nor do I think there is any harm in believing what you like! My brother is the agnostic/atheist/whatever. I would never refer to myself as such!
Laura- Thanks for writing about Don, he was thoughtful and kind and dedicated to the Church; I know he was good at comforting the sick and unselfish with his time. However, knowing Don, I think he’s have blushed at your compliments (or made a joke about them.)
He also carried on a couple of long email debates with me in the last year; and it was rough— Paul, I hear you— Our debate was on abortion and on torture. I wondered why the Church wasn’t as loud on the 2nd topic; he insisted I was wrong, the Church was right in there on the good side. We were about to start a discussion on the Inquisition, but didn’t get into it quite yet.
So, no apologies needed from Abbie–
As you said, he loved to debate, and I have had him charged with the straw man offense more than once… the problem with having a debate about faith is that it is impossible. It can be fun, though. I believed so hard when I was younger, that it may never come unstuck: I still follow Jesus, who said it so clearly and simply—we are to love God (or good, and that works best for me) and each other.
But, I see this clearly also, my dogs know what affection is. If you chose to seek truth, it may lead you into consideration of genetics. psychology, history, and with these in mind, it is tough to be in most churches (unless you love the music, and the ritual and it inspires you).
I tried to get Don to listen to Mike Malloy, a radio talk show host (who insists that religion is the cause of all evil) but he didn’t like it much. It’s too bad, because I think that if he had been able to, it would have enhanced our debate.
As far as Don being a tease when he was young, I guess so, he got in trouble for it as much as anyone else got disciplined for hitting. Hitting is bad, you mustn’t do it, you know. The hurt from a tease might teach you something about being hypersensitive, what does that punch teach? That ability to tease had a sharp wit and a keen eye behind it, the maturity to handle words well came later.
Anyway thanks for all of your who shared thoughts of Don with us. I loved him, he was my brother and my friend. Once when he was in trouble, I was able to help him, and because the Church is a decent institution at least sometimes, they helped him too.