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\nBy
\nMark Mallett<\/p>\n
\nBy
\nMark Mallett<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
FR.<\/strong> Gabriel was a few minutes late for his Saturday morning brunch with Bill and Kevin. Marg Tomey had just returned from a pilgrimage to Lourdes and Fatima with a fist full of rosaries and holy medals that she wanted blessed after Mass. She came prepared with a pre-Vatican II book of blessings that included exorcism rites. “For good measure,” she said, winking at Fr. Gabriel, who was half the age of the weathered prayer-book.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n As Fr. drove up to the diner,\u00a0the words he prayed over the holy water used in the blessing\u00a0were\u00a0still lingering\u00a0in his mind:<\/p>\n I exorcise you so that you may put to flight all the power of the enemy, and be able to root out and supplant that enemy with his apostate angels, through the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n When\u00a0he entered the front door, Kevin, who had been thumbing his smartphone, looked up and waved. Just then, Bill emerged from the washroom and sat down with Fr. Gabriel in perfect sync.<\/p>\n “I ordered for you,” Kevin said in his usual, eager to please voice. Unlike most men turning thirty, he had a deep respect for the priesthood. In fact, he was considering it himself. Still single, Kevin had been discerning his vocation for the past year, becoming increasingly discontent as an accountant. He’d only had one serious relationship a few years ago, but it abruptly ended when his girlfriend thought he was taking religion too seriously. That crisis awakened something in his soul, and now he was ready to take a leap of faith.<\/p>\n As the waitress poured the men their coffees, Kevin wasted no time. “So,” he said, quickly scanning the eyes and mood of his companions, “I’ve made a decision.” Bill didn’t bother to look up as he tore open one of the packages of cane sugar that he always supplied himself. “You’re going to be a nun?” Bill muttered.<\/p>\n “I’ve been accepted to the seminary. I’m gonna do it.” Kevin shot another glance around the table, seeking the approval that he knew his own father would never give.<\/p>\n With a twinkle in his eye, Fr. Gabriel smiled and nodded in a way that said so much without words… that this was a good thing, but a process of discernment; that it might end up in the priesthood, and it might not; but that it didn’t matter, because following God’s will was the most important thing….<\/p>\n “Ah, well you’ll want to hurry before Bergoglio<\/em> destroys the priesthood too,” Bill grumbled as he vigorously stirred his coffee longer than usual. Fr. Gabriel knew what that meant. Whenever Bill was upset with Pope Francis, he always called the pontiff\u00a0by his former\u00a0name with a tinge of sarcasm.\u00a0In the past, Fr. Gabriel would usually exchange a knowing smile with Kevin and then say the perfunctory “What now, Bill?” to launch the weekly brunch debate. But this time, Fr. Gabriel fidgeted with his coffee cup without looking up. While able to defend Pope Francis’ controversial statements in the past, the priest found himself listening and praying more often than arguing. The truth was that a growing number of his most faithful flock were confused at what now seemed a weekly controversy coming out of the Vatican.\u00a0<\/p>\n But these folks were still relatively few in number. Most of his parishioners never peruse religious publications, watch EWTN, or read Catholic websites, Bill was the quintessential disciple of papal conspiracies, eating their every word, quickly posting his own comments (anonymously so that he could be more sarcastic than usual) and fueling his intense fear that Pope Francis\u00a0is the long prophesied “false prophet” who is craftily sinking the Barque of Peter. But for all of Bill’s logic and reasoning, Fr. Gabriel couldn’t help but see his friend\u00a0among those panicking apostles in the Gospel of Mark:<\/p>\n A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, \u201cTeacher, do you not care that we are perishing?\u201d (Mark 4:37-38)<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n Still, Fr. Gabriel\u00a0was acutely\u00a0aware of the Jane Fonda’s of the world who tweeted such things as, ‘Gotta love new Pope. He cares about poor, hates dogma.’ [1]<\/sup><\/a>cf.\u00a0Catholic Herald<\/a><\/em><\/span><\/span>\n
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much less study papal Apostolic Exhortations. The “conservative” Catholic media and bloggers, and those “guardians of orthodoxy” intent on highlighting\u00a0the Pope’s every seeming gaff, believed a schism was fomenting\u00a0that, frankly, Fr. Gabriel did not see stirring on the\u00a0parish level. For most of them, Pope Francis is simply a friendly and refreshing face to the Church.\u00a0Their exposure to his pontificate is mostly images\u00a0of him embracing the handicapped, hugging the crowds, and meeting with leaders. The subtleties of controversial footnotes\u00a0and theological mind-bending statements that have fallen under the microscopes of conservative commentators\u00a0are simply not on the radar of the\u00a0average Catholic. So to Fr. Gabriel, the “hermeneutic of suspicion” that continually casts the Pope’s words and actions in the worst possible light seemed to be generating a crisis on its own like a self-fulfilling prophecy: those predicting a schism were, in fact, fueling it themselves.<\/p>\n\n