July/August 2006
We have a limited number of back issues available in print.
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or call 517-342-2595. You will be charged the regular cover price
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a heart in the right place
Despite his own infirmity, Paul Minarik
brings Christ to the homebound
By Nancy Schertzing | Photography
by Jim Luning
 Paul
Minarik’s heart messed up his life.
For 32 years, this Korean War vet had worked as a Fisher Body inspection
repairman. For 38 years, he and his family had farmed their
land just south of St. Johns. For 27 years, he had served as an
extraordinary minister of holy Communion, DSA coordinator and member
of the school’s board of education at St. Joseph Parish in
St. Johns. His wife, Barb, volunteered in a number of behind-the-scenes
roles at church and worked in the school’s cafeteria. Their
four growing children also kept them busy. Life was full, and Paul
was happy.
That life came to screeching halt Dec.16, 1985, when Paul
nearly died of a massive heart attack. Doctors operated
to try to repair the damage. Five weeks later, however, he suffered
a devastating stroke. Unable to walk or talk, Paul’s full,
happy life lay in ruins.
Forced retirement and physical therapy defined his new life for
a time. He and Barb struggled with uncertainty, but held fast to
their faith. During this dark time, St. Joseph’s Eucharistic
ministry director, Sister Sheila Clause, told Paul something he
would always remember. “The Lord’s not finished with
you, Paul,” she said. Somehow, in his heart, he knew she was
right.
 Within
a year, Paul recovered his speech and mobility. (Only his
left hand shows any sign of the stroke today.) Before long, Sister
Sheila was recruiting him to return to Eucharistic ministry. Paul
accepted, and began taking Communion to hospital patients –
sharing both the Eucharist and his recovery stories to give them
hope.
As life settled into a more normal routine, Paul built hospital
and homebound Communion visits into his new retiree schedule. For
two years, he took Communion to hospitals and the local nursing
home. Eventually, however, he found his heart was more into the
homebound visits.
“Sister Sheila wanted me to try this program called BeFrienders,”
Paul explains, “where we go into people’s houses and
listen if they need someone to talk to. She said ‘You’re
supposed to listen to them and comfort them.’ Well, that didn’t
work as well for me,” he smiles. “I stuck with the home
Eucharist visits.
“I found this very enjoyable, giving back to the church.
I guess ’cause I like people. I couldn’t follow rules
and just listen to them for 10 minutes then leave. I talk to them,
and when they start crying, I start crying. I figure God is with
me when I do this. I go into people’s homes to visit with
them. I don’t look at how clean their house is or how dirty.
I take them as they are, and I enjoy seeing their needs are met.
 “A
friend of mine has MS [multiple sclerosis] and she just had to move
into a nursing home. This was a hard time for her and her
husband. I wanted her to be comfortable, so once her husband got
her settled in I made sure a priest would visit her and that she
would receive Communion in her nursing home.
“Back in 1996, I made weekly visits to a man for about six
months. The last Friday of each month, he wanted me to be at his
house by 9:00 in the morning so he could take Communion before his
daughter took him up to the casino,” Paul laughs. “I
don’t know if that helped meet his needs or not! Anyway, the
last time I took Communion to him he looked pretty bad, so I called
to check up on him later that day. His daughter told me he had just
died.
“No matter what the situation, it comes to you, what to say
or do. You don’t even think about it. You just follow your
heart. I do think God is with me when I do this.
“One time I remember real well, I was visiting a widower who
had just gotten diagnosed with liver cancer. Even though
he lived alone, he told me he didn’t need any help. He said
he would take his Communion at Mass just like always. So after I
saw it was getting harder for him to come to church, I just asked
him if I could come out to visit sometime. He agreed.
“Well, eventually he let me bring him Communion, and we talked
about a lot of things. One day, I was called to his house to give
him Communion because he was dying. His children were all gathered
around to be with him.
“I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t
leave him. Something told me to stay, so I held his hand and remained
with him until he died. After he had passed, I stayed with his family
for a while to help any way I could.
Barb Minarik sits across the table from her husband of 50 years,
gently smiling. “He just seems to know,” she says proudly.
“Paul has that comforting feeling. I don’t know how
to explain it. He just had a call. It comes from his heart, from
God.
 “Paul
was visiting six or seven homes a week, taking the Eucharist to
homebound folks. But then last October, he lost his memory
because of a sodium imbalance in his body. His memory is mostly
back now, but for a while he didn’t remember much of anything.
Since then, Paul has not brought Communion to anybody, but I have
taken him to visit some of his friends.
“When I have driven him to his home visits, I’ve waited
in the car because that is their time together. That’s special.
I don’t do homebound Communion visits because I never felt
I was worthy to give the Eucharist. I thought I wasn’t good
enough,” Barb explains. “But now that I’m a Eucharistic
minister at Mass, I feel OK. It’s an honor. Maybe there are
others out there who feel like me. They need to try it.
“It is such a joy and an honor to be a Eucharistic minister.
It does the heart good. God has blessed us, and we have to give
back.”
Looking back across the years since Paul’s heart attack, Barbara
smiles at her husband. “It’s been 20 years
of growing experience,” she says simply. Their grateful hearts
show in the smile they share with each other.
---
 Comforting
the sick
 There are
a number of ways you can bring comfort to those who are suffering
from physical or mental illness.
• BeFrienders are trained to be pastoral
listeners. The role of a BeFriender is to be a companion on the
journey – a companion who shares the gift of listening, compassion
and presence.
• Many parishes have a ministry to the homebound,
in which parishioners can visit their brothers and sisters who are
unable to get out and about the way they once could.
• Extraordinary ministers of holy Communion
bring the gift of Christ’s Eucharistic presence to those who
are hospitalized or unable to come to Mass.
To participate in any of these vital ministries, contact your pastor
or parish pastoral associate.
coming home to Mother Teresa House
Penny Koch and her husband
found a loving place to spend his final days
By Marybeth Hicks | Photography by Tom Gennara
 Looking
back on the five days she spent with her dying husband at Mother
Teresa House, Penny Koch admits there was much she did
not know.
She didn’t know how it would feel to be at a place designed
especially for people who face the end of life.
She didn’t know the phases her husband would go through as
he succumbed to his disease and passed away.
She didn’t know how quickly death could happen or how it would
feel to be swallowed up by grief at the loss of her spouse.
But most of all, Penny didn’t know that she could feel such
genuine love from a group of total strangers.
“Right away I knew these people loved me and my husband. I
could feel it and it was real,” she says. “That had
to come from God.”
Jeffrey Koch was only 59 when diagnosed with liver cancer,
but he had endured years of poor health. Penny, his wife
of 13 years, had cared for him through countless illnesses, including
the year before his death, when Jeff spent more than 200 days in
the hospital.
“I knew all the nurses and staff at Ingham Medical Center,”
Penny says. “They were so kind to me because after all that
time, they knew me and they wanted to help me.”
But Penny and Jeff had no long-term relationship with the staff
and volunteers of Mother Teresa House, where they came for support
while Jeff was under hospice care.
“From the first time I walked into Mother Teresa House, it
felt like a happy place,” Penny says. “I know that doesn’t
seem possible, but it’s true.”
Despite its purpose of caring for the dying and their families,
the house is cheerful and bright, with an atmosphere of peace.
The center of the house is a large family-style kitchen, “just
like you would find at home,” says director Karen Bussey.
“Our kitchen is the heart of the home, the place where we
gather with our guests.”
“Guests” is the term used for the dying persons
who come to Mother Teresa House in the final days and weeks of life.
Since the facility does not provide medical care, the residents
aren’t referred to as “patients;” rather, they
are welcome visitors to a place that delivers comfort and compassion.
Like Jeff Koch, all of the guests at Mother Teresa House
must be terminally ill and under hospice care, provided through
several tri-county health-care agencies. “Hospice
nurses visit our guests here at Mother Teresa House, just as they
would if the person were staying in his or her own home,”
Karen explains. “We provide support for our guests and their
families.”
This was just the kind of help Penny needed. With no family nearby
to assist her, she was unable to manage caring for Jeff at home,
but she felt strongly that she didn’t want to take him to
a nursing home. “I didn’t know what to do,” Penny
recalls. “When I learned there was a space at Mother Teresa
House, I was so relieved.”
 Jeff
was transferred from Lansing’s Ingham Regional Medical Center
to Mother Teresa House, where he lived only five days.
“In the short time we were there, the people at Mother Teresa
House felt like family,” Penny says.
Karen explains that a willingness to connect emotionally with new
people is the mark of a hospice caregiver. The facility has only
a few paid staff members, while round-the-clock care is provided
by a devoted group of volunteers.
“We’re very clear about what our mission is here,”
Karen says. “To work with the dying, you have to
be ready to be with someone’s suffering. You have to be able
to be uncomfortable, to stretch emotionally and to forget yourself
and your concerns while you are here.” Ministry to the dying
calls for a unique selflessness, she says, because the only real
tool at a volunteer’s disposal is love.
Love, in fact, is the mission of Mother Teresa House.
“We’re not here to evangelize,” Karen says. “We’re
here to be the Gospel, not to preach it. Of course, we pray with
people and we offer spiritual support, but we honor and respect
the various faith traditions practiced by our guests.
“Sometimes, our guests have no particular faith life, or else
they have bitterness and anger toward God that they are trying to
resolve,” Karen says. “What I see most often are people
who have never experienced unconditional love in their lives. When
they’re here and they feel that kind of love, they usually
connect it somehow with God’s presence.”
That presence was palpable to Penny and Jeff. “The people
who cared for us seemed more concerned than even some of my friends,”
Penny recalls. “I still can’t believe they can show
such love for people they don’t even know.”
Yet God knows every person, and this is the premise on which Mother
Teresa House rests its mission of love.
In the end, Penny learned a good deal through her experience with
Mother Teresa House and the volunteers she came to know.
 One
important lesson was that she had to let her husband go.
“They helped me to understand that I had to let Jeff know
it was OK to leave; I had to say goodbye to him,” she says,
wiping away her tears. “It was so hard, but they made me realize
that we both needed me to do it.”
Karen recalls that the staff was concerned about Penny,
who feared the stark reality of watching her husband take his last
breath. “She was worried that he would gasp for air
and that he would suffer,” Karen says. “We tried to
assure that Penny had a support system to care for her when the
time came.”
That time was Nov. 22, 2004. In the morning, Jeff had been able
to move slowly about the house, even joining staff members for lunch
in the kitchen. But he was losing strength.
In the afternoon when Penny came to visit, she was unable to rouse
him and became fearful. But with reassurance from the staff, Penny
talked to him, and Jeff was able to tell her that he loved her.
Late in the afternoon, Penny said goodbye to him, and then left
the house to take a break and have dinner.
Some experts believe the dying can choose when to finally let go.
Many people hang on until a loved one arrives at the bedside, while
others seem to wait until family members leave the room, perhaps
to spare them grief and sorrow.
Jeff died when Penny left the house.
Receiving a call from a staff member, she returned to Mother Teresa
House, driven there by the friendly waiter at the restaurant where
she often eats.
More than a year later, returning to Mother Teresa House isn’t
sad for Penny. “This is not a depressing place,” she
says. “It’s a home. Coming back here is like visiting
with family.”
---
 
Mother Teresa House cares for those who are at the end of life,
providing a loving and peaceful environment. To step through
the doors is to experience an aura of holiness. Mother Teresa House,
under the direction of Karen Bussey, is primarily funded by donations
– to contribute, visit www.motherteresahouse.org or call 517.484.5494.
a day in the life of Mark Rutherford
find out what it’s like to be a seminarian
for the Diocese of Lansing
by Bob Horning | Photography
by Tom Gennara
 Ten
years ago, Mark Rutherford and his two older brothers became involved
in the drug and alcohol scene. Soon after, his grandfather signed
them up for a youth conference at Franciscan University of Steubenville,
and his dad made sure they were on the bus. During the weekend,
all three of them experienced Jesus’ love. On the final day,
Sunday, Mark responded to an altar call for those interested in
the priesthood. Last year, he graduated from Ave Maria College with
degrees in theology and philosophy, and is now in his first year
at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit. He describes for us a
day in his life at school.
I love being a seminarian. Pope Benedict said in
his address to seminarians at World Youth Day that seminary is not
just a place, but “it is a significant time in the life of
a follower of Jesus.” These words echo in my heart every day.
It’s joyful knowing that I am giving my life to him in this
amazing way.
 5:30
a.m.
I wake up at 5:30, thank Jesus for the gift of another day,
drink coffee, take a shower, put on my collared shirt and khaki
pants (which all the seminarians wear), and head off for an hour
of Eucharistic adoration at 6:00. The holy hour isn’t mandatory,
but is encouraged. I then go to Mass, which is required, at 7:15.
It lasts a half hour, followed by breakfast.
We sit and talk for about 45 minutes while we eat, maybe about what
a professor said in class, or about the latest papal encyclical.
All of the food is excellent, and since there is a lot, it obliges
you to go to the gym.
 9:30
a.m.
Classes then begin, and go until noon. This semester,
I am taking Christian Anthropology, which covers what God and the
church say about the human race. Also, Church History II, Pauline
Literature, Hebrew, Homiletics I, Field Education, and Catechetics
and Evangelization.
A note about four of my classes: Not enough people signed
up for Hebrew, so when another guy and I found out that Fr. Mike
Byrnes knew the language, we asked him to do a directed study for
us. In Homiletics, we learn the meaning of proclaiming
the Gospel as the primary duty of a priest. The priest’s ability
to preach well on the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist is
directly linked to the people’s belief in the Eucharist. Catechesis
and Evangelism is one of my favorite subjects, because it deals
with the need to bring people to Jesus. For Field Education, I am
teaching catechesis to two people at my home parish, Christ the
King in Ann Arbor.
 Noon
Lunchtime! After lunch, I try to work out for about
1 1⁄2 hours. I lift weights and run three or four times per
week. On Fridays, a few of us have a boxing club, which I and another
seminarian started; I learned boxing over the years from Father
Pat Egan.
 2:30
p.m.
The remainder of the afternoon is spent in class or doing homework.
Besides daily work, we have about eight papers to write per semester.
I would say that the amount of classes and study isn’t “sweating
blood” intense, but it’s intense enough. There is a
good balance between prayer, study, exercise and social activity.
We also have our assigned house duties, and an hour of spiritual
direction every other week. Never a dull moment.
Every so often, Jesus unveils things that are already familiar to
me, but on a deeper level, on what it means to prepare for priesthood.
For instance, the necessity of spending time with Scripture.
In order to proclaim it, we need to know it. About one hour per
day praying and meditating with the Word of God is good.
5:15 p.m.
At 5:15, we have Evening Prayer, which, along with Morning Prayer,
is mandatory. Then dinner at 5:30. After dinner, I can
pray, study, work out if I haven’t already, or chill out.
On the top floor of the seminary is a “pub” that serves
drinks and snacks in the evening. Probably about one-third of the
80 seminarians use the room regularly, for talking, meetings, playing
cards, playing pool.
8 p.m.
Every Thursday we have an hour of obligatory adoration in common,
from 8-9 p.m. And on the first Thursday of the month, we
have all-night adoration, many of us taking a one-hour time slot.
Night prayers are held at 9:00 in the chapel each night for those
who want to pray together.
 10
p.m.
Lights out. I go to bed between 10 and 11 o’clock,
most of the time.
The weekends are less structured, other than the formation
meetings two Saturdays per month from 9 a.m.-noon. We cover
topics like celibacy, the evangelical counsels and plans for our
summer Holy Land pilgrimage. Part of the weekend I prepare for teaching
my catechesis class in Ann Arbor. Sundays are pretty free. After
Mass, sometimes I go rock climbing with fellow seminarians, and
occasionally a number of us go out to dinner.
 Every
other Monday at 9 a.m. is a rector’s conference with Father
(Steven) Boguslawski (OP). He speaks to us about the latest
things going on in the church, like statements on the incongruity
between homosexuality and priesthood, or about how to relate pastorally
to lay ministers, etc. Father Boguslawski has a genuine concern
for our education and formation, and strives to be a father to us.
 Over
Christmas break this year, I stayed at St. Thomas the Apostle Church
in Ann Arbor, along with two other seminarians. Part of
the time, we prayed together and went evangelizing on the University
of Michigan campus. This summer, we go on a pilgrimage to Israel
for five weeks, plus one week in Rome. We raise our own money for
that. Then, after three weeks off, we have a 30-day silent Ignatian
retreat in South Dakota.
To young men considering priesthood, I invite them to simply
ask the Lord Jesus where he wants them in the heart of his church.
If it’s in his priesthood, then get into seminary. Don’t
procrastinate. You aren’t irreversibly committed to the priesthood
just because you sign up for seminary. For me so far, seminary has
been a wonderful experience of Jesus’ love and presence.
---
is there a vocation crisis?
questions for Father Jerry Vincke, director of seminarians
 What
are you looking for in a seminarian – what are the qualities
that make a good priest?
Someone who has a passion for the Lord. Someone who is willing to
lay down his life for the church and others. Someone who knows it’s
not about me, but about Jesus. At St. John Vianney College Seminary,
where we send our college seminarians, they end every prayer time
with their pledge and prayer: “Men in Christ. Men of the church.
Men for others.” That sums it up best.
A seminarian must be open to formation and be able to be formed.
There are four principal components of seminary formation: intellectual,
spiritual, pastoral and human. Everyone who goes through the seminary
process integrates these aspects of the human person. I think Father
Mark Inglot said it well, “You don’t have to be perfect,
just willing.”
Why is there a shortage of priests?
We went through a lull in priestly vocations for a while, due to
a number of things, including the clergy sex abuse scandal. And
in the Diocese of Lansing, we will only have two ordinations over
the next two years.
But seminary applications are on the rise. We have about 10 new
guys entering soon. Next year, we’ll have approximately 15
undergraduate seminarians. Within the next couple of years, we hope
to have a total of 30 seminarians in formation for the Diocese of
Lansing.
What accounts for the upswing?
We have good priest role models in the Diocese of Lansing and good
priest morale. And Pope John Paul’s death prompted many people
to consider their vocations. The pope’s life was rich in mercy
and love; he prompted others to give their lives in service.
Prayer is vitally important, too. We have a number of parishes and
prayer groups in our diocese who regularly pray for new priestly
vocations.
And of course, Bishop Mengeling is very supportive of his priests
and seminarians. He holds dinners for men who may be considering
the priesthood, so they get a chance to meet him and talk about
their hopes and concerns.
So men go to the seminary
to study theology and become priests?
Entering the seminary is not a guarantee that a man will become
a priest. However, it’s the best place to discern whether
this is what God is calling him to do. Sometimes the greatest joy
is when someone discerns that the priesthood is not God’s
plan for him – he is then able to discern his true vocation
in complete freedom.
Undergraduate seminary is four years, and then major seminary
is another four, right? Who pays for all this?
The Bishop Albers Fund was established to help young men who are
studying as undergraduates. The diocese pays for anyone who is attending
a major seminary.
What is your role in all this?
I’m a big sports fan and I pay attention to recruiting methods.
I liken it to that – I develop relationships with guys who
are considering their vocations. I work with Emmaus House in Lansing
and Chi Rho House in Ann Arbor to be available to college students.
I feel like I’m a spiritual father to some of the guys in
formation. At the same time, my primary role is actually to be an
advocate for the diocese in assessing a man’s readiness to
enter seminary and to be ordained. In all this, I am assisted by
numerous other people, especially the whole people of God.
What are some of the obstacles for a young man who’s considering
priesthood?
Unfortunately, parents don’t seem to be as supportive as they
were in the past – they’re afraid their sons will be
lonely, and they’d also like grandchildren. My response to
them is this: If you’re concerned, remember that the seminary
is only discernment. If the priesthood is God’s will, then
it will be something that will make your son happy and fulfilled.
Otherwise, it’s not God’s will.
---
 
FAITH talked to men who are actively considering the priesthood
to find out what drew them to this and what concerns them about
it.
What is attractive to you about the idea of priesthood?
Zach: Having an opportunity to follow the Lord’s
will and bring others more deeply into life with Christ.
Tom: The holiness and greatness of being a priest.
So far, it’s a big muddle of mixed emotions.
James: The Eucharist. To have the privilege to
bring the body, blood, soul and divinity to my sisters and brothers
would be an indescribable honor.
David: Bringing Jesus to people.
Nathan: Sharing the Good News to all!
What is or was your biggest concern?
Tom: So far, just the discernment process. I have
doubts about the validity of my motives.
David: Knowing that “free” sometimes
means respecting others’ right to reject the Gospel.
Nathan: I fear most failing as a priest and not
being able to guide others to Christ.
Mark: Is it possible to be a saintly priest like
JPII? Could Jesus possibly call someone like me? Who discerns my
vocation – me or the church? What if I’m not ready by
the time I am ordained? How do I know for certain that Jesus is
calling me to priesthood?
John: How am I going to be able to fulfill all
that is required of a priest? How am I, as primarily an introvert,
going to be able to become comfortable enough to be such a public
person?
Anthony: What would my friends think, and would
they treat me differently (better or worse) if I were to tell them?
Neil: Are priests lonely without a family to live
with?
Have you told your family and friends, and if so, how have they
reacted?
Zach: Yes. They reacted unfavorably at first, although
they’re opening up more to it.
Tom: I’ve told my parents and they’ve
reacted positively, but I haven’t told my friends, mostly
because I’m afraid to.
James: Yes, they’re all very supportive.
David: Yes and they’ve reacted surprisingly
well.
Nathan: Not yet. It is still a new thought to me.
I don’t think the family would understand it and help. I want
to let some more time go by before I tell friends.
light up your summer nights with
Luminaria
make these special votives to blend atmosphere
and faith
Michelle Sessions DiFranco | Photography by Phillip Shippert
 In
January, I attended a prayer service for Sanctity of Human Life
Sunday at my church. The entire evening was quite beautiful.
What really set the tone was what I saw driving up to the church
before the service. In the darkness of the night were hundreds of
luminaria lining the sidewalk and driveway going into the church.
On each was written, “choose life.” They created such
a beautiful and serene effect on such a cold January night. Like
all of those who came that evening to pray for troubled mothers
and their babies, these luminaria were warm beacons of hope in an
otherwise dark landscape.
I thought it was a great way to set the tone for an evening
of faith and prayer. In fact, I made a mental note that
evening to perhaps create some of these for my own home for the
next time I entertain or host an event that serves my church or
my faith.
Or heck, maybe even for a backyard barbeque – something my
husband and I do a lot!
Typically, luminaria are made of a white paper bag filled
with sand and a candle, and are displayed in the winter months.
However, for summer, I thought it would be neat to change them up
a bit. These warm-weather luminaria are made of a metal pail filled
with sand and a votive candle. When they are lit, the glow from
the candle creates a brilliant affect on the imagery that’s
collaged on the inside rim. The collage is up to you. Do you have
a devotion to the Blessed Mother or a saint? What about a favorite
Gospel reading or religious symbol? Then put it on the inside of
the pail. These are much more durable and stable than the paper
bag luminaria and can be displayed almost anywhere. One makes an
attractive votive holder to place on a patio. In a group, they create
quite an ambiance, whether you’re hosting an evening of Christian
fellowship or simply having a friend over for dinner. And maybe
they’ll even serve as a little light of hope for someone just
passing by.
---
 For
this project, you will need:
• One or several quart-size metal sand pail(s) with handle
(found at an arts and crafts store)
• Any printed religious art finds you have lying around the
house. (Old Christmas cards, prayer cards, print from Internet,
etc. Be creative!)
• One roll of double-sided clear tape
• Glossy decoupage medium (found at an arts and crafts store)
• Paintbrush
• Play sand (or art sand found in different colors at an arts
and crafts store)
• One or several votive candle(s) (a tea light candle will
work also)
The technique is really simple! Adhere your printed religious art
to the inside rim of the pail, 3⁄4 of the way toward the bottom
(in any fashion) with the double-sided tape. Next, apply a coat
of the glossy decoupage medium with a paintbrush over the entire
inside of the pail with art. Let dry for a couple of hours. Fill
the pail halfway with sand and place the votive inside.
 More
ideas
• Don’t limit them to
summer use! Each pail could feature a saint and you could
display them on Nov. 1 for The Feast of All Saints.
• Use a small citronella candle in place
of a regular votive to use on a patio table outside.
• Use a calligraphy paint pen to write a
prayer or Bible verse on the pail instead of using the collage technique.
• For really vibrant luminaria, use metal sand pails
in different colors.
|
