Do the Clothes Make the Man?

It was Pentecost, 1997. That was the first day that I ever wore clerics. I had just been accepted as a seminarian, a candidate for priesthood for the Archdiocese of Baltimore. As part of the duties of a seminarian, I was called upon to serve Mass for Cardinal Keeler at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. The last time I had been in that place had been for my brother's high school graduation, a few years prior. As I parked my car in the lot and made my way toward the huge church, people greeted me, "Hello, Father!" I didn't know how to respond to that. Another man came up to me with his wife and asked me if they had permission to videotape the confirmations there that day. I told them that I thought it was OK, but I was unsure. They thanked me, and as they went to leave, I asked them, "Excuse me. Can you tell me where the sacristy is?"

It's a familiar feeling for many priests and seminarians: the first time they wore the collar. I didn't feel like I belonged in it - or that I deserved it - but there I was, wandering the grounds of the Cathedral in black shirt and white collar, looking just like a priest.

It's the uniform. Something that we priests should wear with pride (this might sound odd to my housemate, the associate pastor, who teases me mercilessly when I go to work in the summer in my flip-flops!). However, the uniform is important. I caught a showing of the movie "Hancock," starring Will Smith, this Sunday. The reluctant superhero endures image rehabilitation from Jason Bateman's character in order to help the public appreciate his gifts. At one point, Ray gives Hancock his new "uniform" - a tight-fitting, X-men-esque outfit. "I'm not wearing that," he protests. Ray tells him that a uniform conveys purpose and that it is important for Hancock's image.

Now, the clothes don't make the man - there must be character behind the uniform. However, the uniform does convey purpose. The collar tells people something - that a priest is here. And knowing that a priest is there should remind us that Christ is there.

Where to Lay Your Head

"Go back -

have I done anything to you?"

He draws me on

so strongly.

I want to follow Him.

But, He says,

there will be no place

to lay my head.

So where do I go?

Now that I have heard Him?

Is there anywhere else?

To follow

seems like so much loss:

father and mother;

home and family;

honor and acclaim;

desires and will.

And yet,

to follow

is all I can imagine

now -

now that I have heard Him.

His voice

draws me in,

His call

to follow

seems more and more urgent -

that I cannot be anyone else

until I give myself to that call,

and follow.

With no place to lay my head,

no home,

except

where He is -

where He calls.

And the only response I can give

is to follow Him

And find my place

at last.

Rooted in Faith

In the new "Toy Story" film, the toys face the fact that their boy, Andy, has grown up and is heading off to college. The movie opens with Andy and his mother sorting through his stuff, deciding what gets thrown out, what gets stored and what gets kept. Most of the toys are set aside to go to the attic, while good ol' Woody is kept to go off to college. However, accidentally, Andy's mom takes the bag of toys to the curb with the other trash, and the adventure begins.

The toys then make their way, via Andy's mother's car, to the local day care. Woody tries to convince them all that Andy has not thrown them away and that he still cares for them and wants them. The rest, hurt, believe that their boy has cast them off. Woody remains faithful to Andy and continues to advocate for Andy's love of them. Upon arrival at "Sunnyside," the toys decide that it is better to stay in this apparent "toy-topia" and refuse to go home with Woody.

However, Woody's faith in Andy - and his love of his friends - continues to drive him on to bring them all back together. As a priest, I see a very priestly attitude in this desire of our cowboy. The priest must be first rooted in the love of God for himself, and us all. Then, his role is to constantly speak that love to others with an aim to bring us all closer to God.

The movie is very good, and I am not going to give away too much for those heading off to see it. I have more to say about it, but that will have to wait. For now, Woody's simple, trusting faith in Andy is enough for us to reflect on as we are also aware of God's love for us. In our world, where we might be quicker to believe the worst about others (and, perhaps, ourselves), we need those people who keep calling us back to that Love that has made us who we are.

Some Question

Some say He is the Baptist;

others Elijah'

or some other prophet.

Word has certainly

been going around

about Him.

People have been talking,

yes.

And,

apparently,

He has been hearing,

and now

He asks us

what we have heard

about Him.

So, there it is.

Lots of guesses;

lots of hopes.

Lots of talk.

"But who do you say that I am?"

He asks now.

I know who I want Him to be.

I know who I'd rather He be.

I know the things I wish He'd ask of me -

what I think is easier,

simpler.

But that's not what He talks about.

He talks about suffering,

sacrifice,

crosses.

How can this be?

He is the Christ.

He is the One,

but He tells us that there is a very hard road ahead,

and that we must follow Him -

as He is.

But,

He is the Christ.

Here is my cross.

It's time to follow.

How a Deacon Gives Thanks

On Saturday, Archbishop Edwin O'Brien ordained Deacon Greg Rapisarda a priest. Greg, a "permanent" deacon who was widowed four years ago, is Baltimore's newest priest. I was glad to be at the ordination celebration. As is customary, at the end of the program booklet, now-Father Greg expressed his gratitude to all those who made that day - and his life - possible. I thought it worthwhile to share it, because it is so beautiful.

My deepest appreciation to Archbishop Edwin F. O'Brien for ordaining me a priest of Jesus Christ; to William Cardinal Keeler for ordaining me a Deacon; to Auxiliary Bishops William C. Newman, Denis J. Madden, and Mitchell T. Rozanski, and Bishop W. Francis Malooly, for your example and support.

To the Vocation Director, Rev. Gerard Francik, and Associate Vocation Director, Rev. Patrick Besel; to Trish Ryan and Patti Phipps for their guidance and support; to seminarians in the Priestly Formation Program.

To my parents, Anthony and Mildred Rapisarda, my first teachers in the faith, for their loving example of faithfulness and love, and for having me Baptized and raising me in the Sacraments.

My dearest wife, carol, of happy memory, inspired me in her holy life and death. As daily communicants, we shared a life of mutual inspiration and love, in our common desire to live lives of faith. I continue to find comfort from her presence as one among the communion of saints. Praised be Jesus Christ!

Greg goes on to thank his children, grandchildren, in-laws, seminary faculty, fellow parishioners, pastors and friends. He then expresses his eagerness to begin his priestly service and encourages others to follow a call to serve as a priest.

These words of thanks remind us of the uniqueness of every vocation, as well as the heart of who we are as Catholics - a people of Thanksgiving - of Eucharist and of Communion. Congratulations, Fr Greg! And may God continue to bless us with holy priests!

Loving Much

If this Man were a prophet,

He would know

what sort of woman this is.

If this Man were a prophet,

He would know

a sinner when He sees her.

But look:

He lets this woman

kneel before Him,

and kiss Him,

and -

so strange -

anoint His feet??

Why?

How holy can He be,

that He allows her -

this woman -

this sinner -

to even approach Him.

If He were a prophet,

He would know.

Yet,

she continues

to kiss,

and to anoint,

and to wash.

And He allows her.

It's as if

He knows

something...

And this woman,

who acknowledges Him

as great.

Maybe,

she sees more.

Her love for Him,

shown in her acts,

maybe,

speaks for her -

not a sinner,

but one who loves much,

because of the love

she has been shown

by this Man.

He knows her -

better than I do -

and He shows her love

in His words.

Perhaps He is

who He says

He is.

Perhaps

He is a Prophet.

Where Have I Been?

Those who might read regularly probably have noticed the infrequency of posts here since around the time Lent began. This was not part of some Lenten discipline; rather, it was a function of what we call "life." Since "Snowmageddon" in February, things have been "off" - at school and by extension everywhere. I know that I don't have to blog, and I don't need to apologize for a lack of reflections here, but I have reflected on it.

"Life" has been a bit crazy for me of late. Part of the slowdown in posting is due on my part to a new assignment that I have been given, which I will begin at the end of this month. The Archbishop has appointed me to be the new Vocations Director for Baltimore. I am excited about the new ministry with all its challenges. I am, at the same time, sad to be leaving ministry at the university and the wonderful people with whom I am blessed to serve. However, the nature of my service means that I am at the disposal of the bishop, and I honor that.

What will this mean for "Jesus Goes to Disney World"? Well, I am not fully certain yet. I would like to continue posting - probably not daily, but regularly. My posts will be akin to those that y'all are used to, but I will also add new reflections on my new ministry to young men (and women) with vocations in the Church. Like I said, it can be exciting stuff, and you're all welcome for the ride.

In the meantime, keep me in your prayers, and know that I appreciate every one of them!

In God's Peace,

Fr. Austin

"Feed Them Yourselves"

"Give them some food yourselves,"

He tells us.

All these people!

"Feed them yourselves!"

He is the Teacher;

He is the miracle-worker.

These people are hungry -

We are hungry -

and this is what He tells us.

"Feed them yourselves."

So,

what are we to do?

Five loaves,

two fish,

and all these people.

It can't be done -

it is impossible.

They are hungry,

and this is all we have.

But He takes it;

He blesses it;

and He shares it -

with us

and with them.

So many people!

As we gather,

we fill all these baskets -

one for each of us.

"What do we do with all this leftover food?"

We look to Him,

and He smiles.

"Find some food yourselves,"

He says.

Now,

we have enough

for all.