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July/August 2002
Interviews by Duane Ramsey
Fr. Ray Rademacher of Holy Trinity Parish in Fowler (1935-2002)
Fr. Bernie Reilly of St. Mary Star of the Sea Parish in Jackson
Bishop Carl F. Mengeling Parenting Priests Larry and Rose Ann MacDonald have 2 Priest Sons -
Attraction grew into love, and love resulted in marriage. In 1964,
their first child, Eban, arrived, followed a year later by Kathryn.
During the early 1960s, Larry earned a bachelor's and a master's
degree in music at Ohio State University. Upon graduation, he was
offered a job teaching at Mott Community College in Flint and moved
the growing MacDonald clan there.
Rose Ann - who once attended a convent - also set a wonderful example
with an active prayer life that included recitation of the Divine
Office. "She still prays more than I do," Tim says with
a chuckle.
When the time came for the MacDonald brothers to take their final
vows, they discovered that the ceremonies were scheduled just a
week apart - Adam's in Illinois and Tim's in Michigan. After consulting
with his brother, Adam asked his order if the two could be ordained
together on the same day in the same city. His superiors agreed,
and the brothers were accepted into the priesthood at Lansing's
St. Mary Cathedral June 10, 2000.
After the ceremony, Adam requested that he be assigned again to
his beloved Philippines; he now serves as associate pastor at a
parish outside Manila. Tim stayed closer to home, in Lansing, where
he balances his work as parochial vicar at St. Gerard Parish with
volunteer commitments to the diocese. (Some readers may know him
as the host of the local 'Theology on Tap' program or as the emcee
at various diocesan events.) A Doctor and a Lawyer Become Priests
With the challenges facing priests in dioceses around the country for the past several months, there is nothing more encouraging than to see two more faithful men receive the sacrament of holy orders in our own Diocese of Lansing. But perhaps what is even more encouraging is that although both men had friends and family members affirm them in their vocations, it was due to the positive influence of a faithful priest in both Fr. James Conlon's and Fr. Peter Clark's lives that led each to his ordination at St. Mary Cathedral in Lansing June 8. Fr. James Conlon The Diocese of Lansing also did much to welcome and honor Fr. James - and Fr. Clark, too - into its leadership June 8. But when it was all said and done, what Fr. James, 37, looked forward to the most about becoming a priest was being able to preside over the Eucharist. That and hearing confessions "since I've been such a great recipient of (that sacrament)!" he says laughing. But he recognizes the importance of the clergy to know God, a process that does not end when one becomes a priest. "The primary agent is the Holy Spirit," he acknowledges. "The Spirit is within you, but you have to cooperate with the Spirit. And not just in formation." "In the past I think a lot of guys didn't follow the Spirit," he says. "They finished discernment when they entered seminary." Discernment and growing in one's faith, however, is a lifelong process, even for a priest. Fr. James - yes it's 'James,' not 'Jim' or 'Jimmy' (he said the only people who can get away with calling him 'Jim' are his aunt, who is still used to calling him that from his childhood, and Bishop Carl Mengeling) - grew up in a Catholic family in Sligo, Ireland. He and his two brothers and four sisters (Fr. James is the middle child) have all become successful professionals and now are scattered around the world. He still keeps in touch with all of them and estimated he talks to his parents at least twice a week. "Thank God for Sam's (Club phone) cards," Fr. James says. And, he adds, his family "never turned down a trip anywhere." Indeed, Fr. James has lived in England and Australia. He's traveled before to America and he has been to Turkey and worked in India with Catholic Relief Services. After high school Fr. James attended National University of Ireland, Galway, to study history and law. Fr. James' older brother, a lawyer and partner in a Dublin law firm, encouraged him to enter law and work as a solicitor in his firm. From there Fr. James worked in London and Sydney as well as in Dublin. But thoughts of priesthood were always in the back of his mind. In the summer of 1994, a friend invited him to visit America - more specifically, Michigan - where he fell in love with St. John the Evangelist Parish in Fenton. He admired the pastor, Fr. David Harvey, and remembers the friendliness of the people he met. "It left an indelible mark on me," Fr. James says. Even
today, he says he can go back to St. John on holidays and breaks
and it feels like his second home. "It was a nightmare," he says.
Fr. James was one of the oldest men there - most were in high school - and he "felt like a fish out of water." He knew he wasn't going to last. After two years, he left. "It was the best thing I ever did," he says now. He went back to practicing law. But he still had a hunger to learn more theology. He entered at Dublin's Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy where he could begin the degrees necessary to enter the priesthood. The Jesuits, who taught at the institute, wanted him to join their order. But if he were to become a priest, he wanted to work in a parish. After finishing his master of divinity and pontifical degrees, he decided to become a priest. His options were to enter either the Diocese of Lansing or the diocese where his uncle served in Australia. Although his uncle died in 1985, he had visited there many times since and was welcomed by the priests his uncle knew. However, "I didn't want to be someone's nephew," he said. "I wanted to be my own person." He contacted Fr. J. Munley who was, at the time, director of formation for the Diocese of Lansing. Since James had his degrees, all he needed to do was go through vocation formation for the Lansing diocese. He went up to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., for one year to complete the clinical pastoral ministry course. While at the Mayo Clinic he also completed the screening and application process to become a priest in the Diocese of Lansing. "I'm not sure the apostles would get through it," he says of the thorough process. "You get to know yourself really well." As a priest, one really does see the best and worst of humanity, he adds. Fr. James heard a lot of confessions while a hospital chaplain, but he was never able to complete the care of patients because he could not yet grant absolution. Not being able to "finish" the sacraments for sick patients left him frustrated but looking forward to the day he would one day be able to fully serve them as a priest. To finish his process of formation, Fr. James entered Mundelein Seminary in Mundelein, Ill., in September 2000. While there, he got a job at the Archdiocese of Chicago's tribunal office, allowing him to use his skills as a lawyer to help young men and women seeking annulments. Fr. James was impressed by Mundelein Seminary because, unlike the seminary he attended in Ireland, it "put our experiences to work. Here they are respectful of our backgrounds," he says. "My first seminary wanted me to forget I was a lawyer." As for whether he will be able to put his legal background to use in the Diocese of Lansing, "I'll put that at the feet of the diocese," says Fr. James. "If they can use me, that's great." At St. Francis of Assisi in Ann Arbor, Fr. James hopes to enrich the faith formation program that is already in place there. "For most people, the homily is the only time they get catechesis," he says. "People need to be challenged. They need to know that we're in this for the long haul, that this (faith) is serious."
Fr. Peter Clark
Before his ordination, Fr. Clark, 54, was a medical doctor, specializing in geriatrics and internal medicine. He saw many sobering situations - similar to the job of a priest, he has seen the best and worst of humanity - which led him to ponder how he could become more involved in the Church. As a physician, he could describe a patient's illness, discuss
treatment options, inform them how their ailment would progress
- he could give all the "technical" medical terms - but
then his patient would look him in the eye and ask, "Why me?"
Answers to those questions, Fr. Clark knew, were spiritual.
"I was drawn to the gospels, even as a child," Fr. Clark says, also remembering several positive experiences with the sacrament of reconciliation. Yet he didn't sense a call to the priesthood. Even though he regularly attended Mass during his high school years, he wasn't very involved in Church activities. His freshman year at Wittenberg University in Springfield, Ohio, he realized he had been "coasting" in his faith his whole life. It was the 1960s and a lot was going on in the world - the sexual revolution, the civil rights movement, the Vietnam War. "It was important to have opinions about everything," Fr. Clark recalls. He began to realize that Christianity was all-encompassing and involved one's entire life. He asked himself, "Who am I? Who do I need to be?" At first he found support to his answers to those questions from Protestant evangelicals and Anabaptists on campus. Eventually he was led to re-start the Catholic Newman Club. A visiting priest once asked him about entering the seminary, but the thought never stuck.
"I never thought of medicine as the end-all; I never thought 'this is it.' It was just the next step," he explains. As with all his major life decisions, Fr. Clark fasted and prayed about his decision to become a doctor. He still felt led to study medicine, so after his graduation from Wittenberg with a general science/education degree, he attended the University of Rochester for further pre-med classes. During the summer after his senior year he decided to take part in an integrated Christian community in southern Georgia where he did farm work, volunteer work and built houses for poor people in the area. A man named Millard Fuller was one of the community's leaders, the same man who eventually founded Habitat for Humanity. This experience opened Fr. Clark's eyes to the idea of involvement in a Christian community. Back in Rochester, Fr. Clark took classes to get into medical school, but soon realized his chances were slim. Encouraged by the success of a classmate in Barcelona, Spain, he looked into studying medicine abroad. "Basically, I sold everything I had and bought a one-way ticket to Europe, the cheapest ticket I could find," he said. He spent the summer in Barcelona trying to get into medical school. During that time he read Scripture and prayed, but attended Mass infrequently. Finally he was accepted into a medical school in Belgium. He learned to live on very little and found ways to make money in every way he could. He played the banjo as a street musician; other times he would play in cafes and pass a hat around for donations.
A particular stream of the charismatic renewal, Word of God community, (which described itself as "a charismatic ecumenical covenant community devoted to the renewal of the Christian churches in the power of the Holy Spirit") interested him, so when he finished medical school he applied to hospitals for his residency in cities where there were charismatic covenant communities. He was accepted at St. Joseph Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor. He became part of the Word of God community there in 1980. When he finished his residency, he had to decide what to do. He fasted and prayed, and chose to remain in the area and open a practice in Milan, south of Ann Arbor. He was also an attending physician on the staff of St. Joseph Mercy and at Saline Community Hospital in Saline, Mich. Throughout the 1980s, his practiced flourished, and he enjoyed the time he could spend with patients and the follow-up he could do with them in the hospitals. "It's very satisfying to see patients do well," he said. But soon the politics and economics of medicine changed. As did many doctors, Fr. Clark became frustrated at policies that hindered the doctor-patient relationship, such as HMOs and new Medicare laws. "I felt I had less control over care, but more responsibilities," he said.
It was around that time Fr. Clark became involved in the pro-life movement. He joined Operation Rescue and participated in "rescues" from Los Angeles to Washington, D.C., and New York, risking arrests at abortion clinics in the effort to allow women time to reconsider their choice to abort their child. Participants had to agree to be non-violent and keep his or her mouth shut no matter what. "It'd be unpredictable; you really had to trust God,"
he said. "You're surrendering your life in a real way to situations
you had no control over." As a result of his experience, he arranged to have a friend take over his practice for 10 weeks in 1991 so he could decide whether to be involved in the pro-life movement full time. Again, he fasted and prayed. "In the end, I had a clear notion God was telling me there's
more basic things that need to happen (with me) internally."
So he went back to his practice. He continued to work part-time at a home health agency, but now Fr. Clark had the time to go to Mass regularly, pray the rosary, do works of mercy, become involved in the parish and "hear God," he says. Still, however, at that time, "priesthood was not on the agenda." For three years Fr. Clark met with Fr. Charlie. Still wondering how he could best give back to the Church, Fr. Charlie challenged him in his faith. He also urged him to talk to the Diocese of Lansing's director of formation, Father J. Munley. One time, Fr. Munley started asking him a lot of questions about priesthood. "I was surprised at my answers," Father Clark said. "I ended up defending the vocation!" Fr. Clark had never married - he had been close, but never tied the knot - so he decided to visit a seminary. In fall 1997, he entered Mundelein Seminary in Mundelein, Ill., to become a priest for the Diocese of Lansing. Some of the best examples of vocations came from his married friends, he said. He would see wives lay down their lives in service to their children or husbands sacrifice time to be supportive of their wives and kids. "It (priesthood) is a spousal relationship," he said. "As a priest I will be laying down my life for my parish." Priests Then and Now By Fr. Charles Irvin
Before the 1960s, life was different for priests. Some were
revered, some were loved, some were feared, all where held in awe.
A priest was like a doctor, one we could go to when we were in any
kind of trouble, be it financial, spiritual, legal or of any nature
whatsoever. Father had all of the answers; Father knew best. He
was the paterfamilias, the one who could make things happen when
something needed to be done. He was doctor, judge and social worker.
And he was feudal lord of his parish domain with all its subjects. It was good news - and it was bad news, the bad news being that
their priests were no longer seen as the father-providers they once
were. With well-educated and affluent parishioners, people who were
now quite middle class, priests were on pedestals that were no longer
as high as once before. The Church's self-definition changed from that of seeing itself as a "Perfect Society" to seeing itself as a "Pilgrim People." Ecumenism followed with its crucial question: "Is God at work in non-Catholic Christian churches and in non-Christian religions as well?" Priests were forced to struggle with affirming the Spirit in other Christian denominations without at the same time denying the legitimacy of Catholic beliefs. Was Christ's redemptive crucifixion and resurrection necessary for the salvation of the human race or was it simply a nice thing He did for us? We cannot fail to note that the Fathers of Vatican II began their re-forming council by first addressing changes needed in the liturgy. Immediately prior to Vatican II the officials in the Roman Curia had prepared an agenda for John XXIII's (as they saw it) council. When the bishops of the entire world began the work of the council, they immediately jettisoned the agenda that the curia handed them and began their work with renewing the liturgy. This astonished the observers and experts. Shouldn't the Council Fathers, they asked, begin with the structures of the Church? The Holy Spirit thought otherwise. He inspired the Fathers to re-assert the truth that " ... the Liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed; at the same time it is the fountain from which all her power flows." (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, chap. 1, para. 10). Nothing touched the life of the priest more than how he celebrated Mass and the other rites of the Church's Sacred Liturgy. And nothing touched the heart of the Church more than how she celebrated the Eucharist. Some feel as if the Second Vatican Council pulled the rug out from under priests. But while it may superficially appear that way to a few, a deeper examination reveals a huge shift not simply in the Church but in our entire Western culture as well. To properly understand the Second Vatican Council one must view it as a continuation of the First Vatican Council, the latter focusing upon the onset of secularism and its attendant movements that sought to divorce people from God's revelation and Christ's presence to us through His Mystical Body. Vatican I dealt with the infallibility of the Church standing triumphant among all of the developing "ism's" that sought to possess and control human beings. Communism, fascism, capitalism, secularism, consumerism and individualism all had their origins and development in the nineteenth century. Vatican I was the Church's magisterial response to them all. But its triumphalism removed it from the central theme of Christ the Suffering Servant, a theme to which Vatican II returned the Church. Jesus as the Friend and Consoler of suffering people was the vision of Pope John XXIII and the reason why he called for a council to take up where Vatican Council I had stopped. We must remember that Vatican I was never officially closed. It simply ceased to meet because all of the assembled bishops had to get out of Rome due to the invading soldiers of the Italian Risorgimento led by Giuseppe Garibaldi. The Church saw herself as "under attack" from any number of political, philosophical, theological and military quarters. Out of felt necessity it adopted a fortress mentality, one that lasted until Pope John XXIII and the 1960s. The 60s brought with them the onset of the Vietnam War (undeclared), the death of Pope John XXIII, the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy, his brother Bobby, and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. In May of 1961 John XXIII's Mater et Magistra was published. It met with immediate dissent from the right when the noted conservative William F. Buckley Jr. wrote his widely read article in America magazine "Mater, Si; Magistra, No." Seven years later Humane Vitae was published (July of 1968) and met with dissent from the left, along with a broad section of centrists who weren't really liberals in any other sense even though a few commentators accused them of being so. The Soviets had put Sputnik into space in the latter part of the 50s. It was in the 60s that American scientific and technological skills were thrown into high gear. We moved at an accelerating rate into the Age of Technology. The operating dogma was "if it can be done, it will be done", an imperative that still propels us as we move into man's ability to control life (both at its inception and its termination), clone human beings, and even set the genetic codes for the kind of human beings we wish to manufacture. All of this resulted in a massive reconstitution of Western civilization's culture. Its legal, moral, educational, social and governmental structures were gradually disassembled. The legitimacies of the government, the Church, the university and even the institution of marriage itself were questioned. As a result hyper-individualism emerged. As we lost control over our institutional structures people began to feel that they had lost control over their lives. People felt like they were victims. Various choreographs of victimhood emerged. If you could establish the claim that you were a victim you could claim some entitlements from the institutions that were supposed to support you. A small minority could gain leverage over a vast majority. And the priest? Instead of being a big piece in a small jigsaw puzzle he found himself after the 60s to now be a small piece in a huge jigsaw puzzle. His role was now that of being a community organizer, a servant of oppressed victims and those in need, a mediator between God and those technological humans who now thought they were gods and goddesses in sole charge of their universe. Stardom was not his; stardom was now in the hands of those who fashioned idols and media meteors. He certainly wasn't portrayed in movies and in television shows as one whose life was to be admired. Mothers and fathers no longer suggested to their sons that they might aspire to be priests. Onto this apocalyptic stage God sent Pope John Paul II with his role of insisting upon the sacred value being human. His incessant message: "Fear not; have courage. Each and every human life presents us with the Presence of God." That is the message he gives to priests in our times. It is John Paul II's revelation of what it means to be a priest. It is the priests' mission and purpose in this new millennium. The priest is to affirm, support and build up each and every human life God sends to him to care for with God's care. Who else can do that? Only with Christ's ordination can any mortal man do that. The priest's specialty is his holiness in relinquishing everything - family, fame and fortune - so that he can bring us the One who gave up His life for each and every one of us. Where does this leave us today? Perhaps we now find ourselves in the status of the first Christian priests. Perhaps God has taken us back to our beginnings. Like the first apostles and priests, we are I think being called to choose to leave everything and give everything in our humanity over to God to be disposed as He wishes. Poverty, chastity and obedience are, after all, ways of living in which we have nothing to rely upon except God's provident love. The glamour of this world's power, glitter, admiration and esteem are not worthy of God. They offer Him nothing. Only a priest's heart that has nothing but His love in it is worthy of Him. Fr. Charlie Irvin By Patricia Majher "He's always been available to anyone who crossed his threshold," says Fr. Dennis Glasgow, SJ, an early 'recruit.' Fr. Charlie came to the priesthood later in life than most of his contemporaries. A native of Ann Arbor, he attended church at the student parish with his father, a University of Michigan business professor, and his mother, an accomplished artist. Following in his father's footsteps, he studied business at U of M and, later, earned a law degree there. A job offer at a big Chicago bank launched him on a career as an estate planner, and he took an apartment in the exciting nightclub district. But a broken relationship and the death of his father disturbed this promising picture and caused him to rethink his priorities. Several years of self-reflection followed, capped off by a powerful weekend retreat he attended almost on a whim: "By the time Sunday rolled around, though, I knew I had to enroll in a seminary." Soon after, Fr. Charlie quit his high-paying, high-profile job in the big city and gave himself over to God. "My friends threw me a going-away party at a bar called 'Crossroads.' I figured that had to be a sign," he says with a laugh. At the age of 27, he entered Sacred Heart Seminary in Detroit and was quickly caught up in the cataclysmic changes inspired by the Second Vatican Council. "It was a marvelous time to be in the seminary, right in the thick of things," he enthused. "The old textbooks were being thrown out and replaced by teachings so new they were still in pamphlet form." Following ordination, Fr. Charlie spent 14 months at a parish in Port Huron then was transferred to the chaplain position at St. Mary Student Chapel in Ann Arbor. The year was 1968, a period of tumult on Michigan's campus, and Fr. Charlie was energized by what he was witnessing. "The students at U of M were asking such wonderful questions, struggling with what life was all about." One of those questioning students was Dennis Glasgow. "I was very involved in the charismatic renewal movement at the time," he recalls. "I used to talk to Charlie about my beliefs, and he was so good at listening to what I had to say yet urging me to be faithful to the Gospel." As a regular churchgoer, Fr. Dennis was also able to observe Fr. Charlie as a presider who maintained a prayerful, intimate relationship with God. "I remember being struck by how smart Charlie was, yet so in touch with his heart. On several occasions, I saw him cry during the liturgy, he was that moved. He truly was an inspiration in my decision to embrace the priesthood." Fr. Dennis continued to meet with his 'counselor' throughout his priestly preparation, and even asked Fr. Charlie to participate in the vesting ceremony at his ordination. That ordination was one of about a dozen that Fr. Charlie influenced during his U of M tenure. After 11 years in a student parish, Fr. Charlie felt a bit burned out and asked to be reassigned. The bishop responded with an invitation to found a new parish in Hamburg. "It was creative, engaging work," Fr. Charlie says. "We didn't even own the land (for a church) when I got involved." Building a new parish wasn't the only thing Fr. Charlie accomplished in Hamburg. He inspired a number of parishioners to consider taking up the priestly vocation. "One candidate from our youth group made it all the way through," Fr. Charlie notes. At his request, Fr. Charlie's next assignment brought him back to Ann Arbor. But the homecoming was bittersweet. "My mother's health was declining. She'd developed Alzheimer's disease while I was in Hamburg, and her symptoms were becoming more pronounced. I just wanted to be closer to her." Balancing his responsibilities as a dutiful son, Fr. Charlie also took on the 'management' of one of the largest parishes in the diocese - St. Francis of Assisi. Everything was bigger at St. Francis: more families, more ministries, and a K-8 school to boot. But the larger community also brought Fr. Charlie in contact with more potential candidates for the priesthood. Fr. Dwight Ezop, current editor in chief of FAITH Magazine, was one of those candidates. "I was a college student at the time," notes Fr. Dwight, "and had my own car which gave me some flexibility in choosing a parish. When I 'tried out' St. Francis, I knew I'd come home." Fr. Dwight felt such a connection to the parish he became an active volunteer, leading naturally to a meeting with the pastor. From the younger man's perspective, the experience was life altering. "I was just starting down the path of discernment," Fr. Dwight said, "and Charlie was the perfect person to talk to - compassionate and approachable. He shared with me his life story, and encouraged me to tell him mine. I soon began to call him my 'spiritual father.'" The conversations between the two men continued for several months, until an opportunity came Fr. Dwight's way to pursue parish work out of state. "Charlie encouraged me to take the job, but told me, 'if this leads you to the priesthood, come back and study for us.'" Fr. Dwight ended up doing just that - at Mundelein Seminary. Between semesters, he returned not to his hometown of Saginaw but to Ann Arbor. "Whenever I had a break, Charlie invited me back to St. Francis to see what the daily life of a priest was really like." In a fitting conclusion to his studies, Fr. Dwight was ordained a deacon, along with three other men, at St. Francis of Assisi Parish, "with Charlie playing the role of the 'proud papa.' He was also the concelebrant at my first Mass." When asked the most important lesson he learned from Fr. Charlie, Fr. Dwight replied, "He let me see the human side of what it means to be a priest. If I could be president of his fan club, I would." Fr. Dwight was among five young men inspired to pursue the priesthood during Fr. Charlie's tenure at St. Francis of Assisi Parish. By 1997, Fr. Charlie was ready for a change, and headed west to assume the pastorate of St. Mary Catholic Church in the "warm, welcoming community" of Manchester. There he was met by a smaller body of believers, giving him time to take on a new responsibility at the diocesan level - founding editor of FAITH Magazine. Editing a publication like FAITH can seem like preaching to a parish of 80,000-plus. But somehow Fr. Charlie found a way to bring it down to a personal level, relating to readers on a one-to- one basis. The openness and approachability so often cited by his admiring 'recruits' to the priesthood were evident in every editorial he wrote. And he never lost sight of his pastoral duty to invite everyone - men and women - into the fullness of God's redeeming grace. " ... it's not too late for us to search together for the One whose beauty will bring us into His truth, goodness and love." Editor's Note: In June 2001, Fr. Charlie stepped down from the top spot at FAITH and, this past June, retired from full-time pastoral work. He has moved back to Ann Arbor, where he helps out on the weekends at St. Mary Student Parish. He clearly relishes this return to the church of his childhood. "I came here as a boy in 1946, said my first Mass here, served as chaplain here, and buried my father from here. It is my spiritual home." |
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Larry
and Rose Ann are the proud parents of six children, two of whom
are ordained priests. Their son Tim is a diocesan priest, while
Adam took up the missionary life. Both young men credit their parents
with providing the foundation they needed to support their commitment
to God. "I saw in my parents the true meaning of an active
faith," says Adam. "They lived their vocation as parents
well and, by their example, prepared us to be 'spiritual parents'
to our parishioners," affirmed Tim.
When
the time came for Adam to take the SATs in high school, he checked
a box on the registration form indicating an interest in missionary
work. "Adam was such a quiet child, we didn't even know he
was considering this," Larry explains. "A short time later,
a recruiter for the Society of the Divine Word came to our door,
and Adam seemed set on exploring this option."
After
graduation in 1996, Tim continued his formation with four years
of theological study at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.
Classes there were taught in Italian, which Tim easily picked up,
and he loved being just five minutes from St. Peter's. "I had
the opportunity to pray with the Holy Father on several occasions."
Tim also took advantage of his time overseas to travel to Calcutta
for a summer to work in Mother Teresa's mission.
Why?
Why would a successful doctor and lawyer give up lucrative careers
- careers that are in many ways the most prestigious and sought
after - to become parish priests? Why would they do it given the
current scandals in the Church? Meet the diocese's two newest priests
and find out how they came to see life differently.
All
of Fr. James Conlon's family flew in from Ireland to celebrate his
ordination. They went to a family dinner afterwards. He then traveled
back to Ireland to baptize a cousin's baby. The first wedding Mass
he will perform as a priest will be his younger sister's.
Fresh
out of seminary and as a new priest at St. Francis of Assisi in
Ann Arbor, Fr. James, a native of Ireland (a trait which shows through
his quick wit and laughter), has a unique perspective on the sexual
abuse cases by priests around the country during the past year.
During
his childhood, Fr. had thoughts of the priesthood - he was an altar
server, there were always lots of priests around and one of his
uncles was a priest serving in Australia. His uncle always had a
big influence on him, he recalls. In fact, the chalice he used at
his first Mass as a priest was his uncle's.
When
asked if he was excited about becoming a priest, Fr. Peter Clark
answered, "'Sobering' is probably a better word." He really
did not have much power over the decision, he explains. "I
don't get a sense that I chose, but rather that I was chosen."
Fr.
Clark, a native of Rochester, N.Y., grew up Catholic but attended
public schools. His family members were never "insiders"
to the church, but that he and his siblings - Fr. Clark is the youngest
of five - always had good examples of a down-to-earth faith from
their parents.
Although
he started college as a history major, Fr. Clark decided he wanted
to study medicine. Unfortunately, when he switched majors he took
the hardest pre-med courses first, the results of which would later
hinder his ability to get into medical school.
It
was while he lived in Brussels, Belgium, that Fr. Clark came across
a small Catholic charismatic prayer group. "As a result of
that, I was reintegrated into the Catholic Church," he says.
"I was going to Mass again and involved in the sacraments."
Mentor.
Counselor. Teacher. Guide. Whatever word you use to describe
him, Fr. Charlie Irvin has had a major impact on the lives of nearly
20 young men considering the priesthood.
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