After Sister Death Comes Brother Tim

“So, Brother. Tell me. What happens after a friar dies?”
I stared expectantly at Brother Timothy. Without blinking, he calmly replied: “Well, I expect that he either goes to heaven or the other place.”

Well, that’s not exactly what I intended by my question. What I really wanted to know is, what happens to a friar’s personal effects—his stuff—when he passes on? If anyone has the answer to that question, it would Brother Timothy Arthur. No, Brother Tim is not our provincial mortician; he is, rather, our provincial archivist. And yes, there is a difference.

We sat in his office at Old Mission Santa Barbara (California). The walls were lines with files and display cases, all neatly organized and carefully arranged. Brother Tim opened a copy of our provincial Statutes, or regulations adapted to local circumstances. For a second, I winced in embarrassment. I hadn’t cracked that particular book since my novitiate, ‘lo these many years ago. Quietly and purposefully, he pointed out the very specific policies and procedures to be implemented in the event of a friar’s death.

It all came back to me. The year was 1998. I was just getting ready to make my solemn profession. A letter arrived from our Provincial Office. I hurried to slice open the envelope, expecting some last-minute instructions for the ceremony. Instead, I found a form letter asking me to designate the kind of music I would like for my funeral (!) and the names of relatives and others to whom I would like to leave my personal belongings after my death. Here I hadn’t even received the golden handshake of solemn profession and I was already within a hair’s breadth of the clammy grasp of Sister Death. Talk about a reality check! Give me a break, guys.

Still, as harsh and unsettling as it may seem at first, the truth is that life and death are side by side. So are their attendant practicalities. Brother Tim patiently explained: After a friar dies, his room is usually sealed by the guardian or himself (the archivist). We look in our files or in those of the deceased to see if he has left any written bequests. We’re not talking about big items here—real estate, pricey jewelry or the like. It’s all remarkably small potatoes. Who do you want to be the recipient of your family photos and other personal memorabilia? What kind of funeral service (songs, readings, etc.) do you want? Where and how would you like to be buried? The truth is that a friar has very little in the way of material possessions—clothes, music, books, maybe a stamp collection or a camera.

It’s all pretty down to earth. Not that the friars necessarily are, though. We’re human beings, too. We don’t want to spend a lot of time thinking about death or planning our funerals. We put things off, lose our paperwork, get distracted and wander. Some brothers will leave behind just a few drawers of old and highly used clothing. Others are pack rats extraordinaire, with piles of books, newspapers, and files crammed into every available inch of space in their rooms. Some brothers are meticulous and dutiful—personal papers in apple pie order in a metal storage box in case of fire. But don’t count on it. Not a few of our confreres would require the services of a private detective to find their stuff. And according to Brother Tim, more than one friar has had the novel idea of stashing his passport, wallet, and other personal papers in the bottom of his wastebasket as an ill-advised precaution against theft.

Ready or not, Sister Death will come visiting. And so will someone like Brother Tim—trying in his patient, gentle, and methodical way to respect the brother’s last wishes and at the same time to preserve for future generations something of the material legacy (journals, collections of homilies, publications, correspondence, and the like) that witnesses to a friar’s life and ministry.//

The All Too Frequent Visits of Sister Death

I’ve just returned from attending the funeral of Elda Macnab, 94, the mother of Jeff, one of our friars. Her passing is just the most recent loss in our extended Franciscan family. Since the first of the year, no fewer than six friars from our Province have died, including our beloved brother Emmanuel Muessiggang, just a month shy of his 100th birthday. Add to the list Friars Anthony Bauman, 88; Bart Mitchell, 84; Lester Mitchell, 79; Michel Gagnon, 76, and David Hitchcock, 74. In addition, parents of three of our friars have passed on as well. I've been asking myself latetly: "Hey, what the heck is going on here?"

St. Francis has given us an enduring insight by presenting all of life a metaphorical sibling to each of us. Hence, the endearing titles of Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and so on. Last on his list was Sister Death: “Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death,” he wrote in his celebrated Canticle of the Creatures in 1225, “from whom no one living can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will, for the second death shall do them no harm.” Death was for Francis no Grim Reaper, no sinister force to be feared and held at bay as long as possible. But rather, in his worldview, Death is part of this life and the natural gateway to eternal life.

Even after 800 years, this is still a difficult insight for many of us to accept and absorb. What is behind this resistance to “Sister” Death, then? Let’s be frank: our high ideals notwithstanding, we are still human beings. We experience fear and suffer loss—especially the loss of people whom we love, cherish and respect. And that loving and losing hurts.

Yes, we friars do love and miss our brothers. We, just as the society as a whole, are now losing our share of the members of the so-called Greatest Generation. These were men whose early lives were shaped by the Great Depression of the Thirties, followed by the tremendous personal and social dislocation of Word War II and the Korean War. Our confreres often came from big Catholic families of immigrant background. And they flocked to monasteries, friaries, and seminaries in great numbers at the end of the war. As friars, they weathered the sweeping changes of Vatican II and upheaval of the Vietnam era. Over time, they saw some of their classmates leave religious life and ministry. They also witnessed the rise, success, and even decline of programs and projects they worked so diligently to initiate and foster.

These ‘good soldiers’ of religious life are leaving us now. They have seen it all and lived through a great many changes in their lifetimes, yet remained faithful to their calling. Yes, we do miss them. But not just because of what they accomplished in ministry, but because of who they were as people. They were and still are our brothers. Thank God for the Communion of Saints. In our Catholic tradition, we believe that we continue to walk with our brothers and sisters who have gone before us. And we continue to rely upon their prayers and friendship.

But for right now: Sister Death, please—um, could you just back off for a little bit, okay? We need some time to breathe, to collect and recollect ourselves. To ask the Spirit: What are you trying to teach us through the passing of our brothers? And where are You leading us from here?//

What Sixth Graders Know and Want to Know about the Franciscans

With fear and trepidation I slogged across the playground. Like a prisoner leaving the yard for the Big House. I had been invited to give a vocations talk to the sixth grade at our parish school. I work with adults, all day long. What do I know about twelve year-old people? After all, I calculated, I’m not one but at least two whole generations older than they are. What could I possibly say to them? What are sixth graders like these days, anyhow?

“Well,” started Mrs. Powers, the principal, greeting me at the door and reading my thoughts at the same time, “they’re a lot like what eighth graders used to be like. They’re good kids, and they have a lot of information, but they’re not quite sure how to put it all together.” That makes two of us, I thought to myself. “Another thing which is very important for them, that they really need to learn is respect. Respect for themselves, respect for each other.”

Armed with these insights and woefully overprepared in terms of props and the amount of material I had planned to present, I stepped hesitantly into the classroom just before the students entered. Their teacher, Mrs. Stites, and I cut strips of paper for the students’ written queries and distributed them among the desktops. A totally unnecessary action; these kids were ready and eager to talk.

“Okay, you go to St. Francis of Assisi school, right? So what do you know about St. Francis and the Franciscans?” I was taken aback. These kids knew a lot—about both. They knew all about St. Francis and the animals, but they also knew that he had been rich and became poor voluntarily to help other people. And they knew a lot about the friars. They knew us by name—all five of us here at our Sacramento parish. Even me, the Fantom Friar, who is almost never home. They knew that we lived together, they knew that we worked for the Church and they understood about our habits and the cords signifying the vows we take.

What they didn’t know they were not at all shy about asking: How much money do you get paid? (Very little). Do you get to keep it? (No, we pool our salaries, pay our bills, get a small allowance, and send most of what’s left to our main office to help the friars who can’t work: seniors and students). Do you any get free time? (Yes, one day a week. Not two, just one.). Can you own your own cd player? (yeah) tv? (not usually) car? (the community owns it, we get to drive it) books? (no problem). Do you have to cook for each other? (Yes, and mostly it’s good, but sometimes it’s awful. Depends on who is cooking).

Have you ever seen the Pope? (Yes, I’ve seen two of them. It was impressive.). Do you have any hobbies? (Well, I cycle, swim and hike when I can)…. Can you have pets? (Generally no. But you can have pictures of them). No pets?! Isn’t St. Francis the patron saint of animals? (Yes, but can you imagine living in a house with seventeen friars with their seventeen cats/dogs? I can’t; it would drive me crazy)…. Do you have another job, too—like working at McDonalds? (Not yet, but we may have to someday if things ever tank for us financially)…. Is your robe hot? (In summer, yes. Then I wear shorts and a t-shirt underneath)…. How old were you when you thought about becoming a priest? (I was six when I first thought about it, then I stopped altogether when I was 18 and started thinking about it real hard again when I was 30). Six years old?! (yep. That’s the truth).

“So. Tell me. Have any of you guys ever thought about becoming a Franciscan (priest, brother, sister)?” I was surprised. About seven hands (out of 30) flew into the air. “How come?” Because it would be cool (okay). Why else? Because you can help people. O.K.! They were also wise: “I would want to make the decision until I was about 20. Because you can’t get married and besides I would like to know more about life first.” (good thinking)

I started to summarize as the class came to an end. “All right, everyone. Remember. God loves you. (Right). God has a plan for each of us (Right again). And that plan is for us to be happy in our lives, not miserable, right? A couple of the philosophers got moving on this one: If God wants us to be happy, why did God make homeless people? Are any homeless people happy?

Food for thought. The wheels, I could see, were turning. Good topic for a future visit. These kids were great. They have dreams. They realize the hard work and sacrifice it takes to achieve those dreams. And they value and respect people who try to give their lives in service to others. “We really like the Franciscans because you’re so cooool!” one kid volunteered. Who was I to argue? Despite my occasional misgivings, I have to admit it, it’s true. Franciscans are cool. Because Francis was cool. And Jesus is always cool.

Speaking of Russia: Mikhail Gorbachev's Assisi Experience

Has the former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev embraced the Christian faith? A flurry of excitement and speculation in the international media attended his recent surprise visit to Assisi on March 19. According to the UK Telegraph reporter Malcom Moore, Mr. Gorbachev was accompanied by his daughter Irina and passed unnoticed through crowds of pilgrims at the Basilica of St. Francis. He is said to have spent a half-hour on his knees in silence at the tomb of St. Francis. (www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/ news/2008/03/19/wgorbachev119.xml - 50k),

Christian or not, Mr. Gorbachev was frank in his admiration for "Il Poverello," the "little poor man of Assisi" as Francis was referred to affectionately during his own lifetime. "It was through St Francis that I arrived at the Church, so it was important that I came to visit his tomb," Mr Gorbachev remarked at the time, “I feel very emotional to be here at such an important place not only for the Catholic faith, but for all humanity.” Gorbachev is also reported to have requested literature about St. Francis to familiarize himself further with the saint’s life and ministry. Father Miroslavo Anuskevic, a Lithuanian friar at the Basilica of St Francis, helped guide the former Soviet leader through the site. Now 77 years old, Mr. Gorbachev served as General Secretary of the CPSU, from 1985 until the collapse of the Soviet Union and his subsequent resignation in 1991. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1990.

Apparently, this is the first time Mr. Gorbachev has made any kind of public statement about his personal connection to the faith, although he has been called a "crypto Christian" in the past for expressing views sympathetic to Christian values. Both his parents as well as those of his late wife Raisa were believers. The parents of Raisa are reputed to have been killed during the Stalinist era for possessing religious icons. Gorbachev himself was baptized into the Russian Orthodox Church as a youth, though through much of his career, he espoused the official atheist Party line. During the "glasnost" era, however, he once referred to himself as a kind of ‘pantheist’. “Nature is my god,” he once responded to a journalist when asked about his spiritual beliefs. In contrast, the current Russian leader, Vladimir Putin, openly professes the Orthodox faith.

Following his Assisi sojourn, however, Gorbachev apparently squelched any speculation that he might have embraced Christianity at this point in his life.. Returning from Italy, he told the Russian news agency Interfax that "over the last few days some media have been disseminating fantasies—I can't use any other word—about my secret Catholicism, [...] To sum up and avoid any misunderstandings, let me say that I have been and remain an atheist." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikhail_Gorbachev)

In response to Gorbachev’s denials, a spokesman for the Russian Orthodox patriarch Alexei II subsequently told the Russian media: "In Italy, he (Gorbachev) spoke in emotional terms, rather than in terms of faith. He is still on his way to Christianity. If he arrives, we will welcome him."

Wherever he may be on his personal faith journey, it is clear that Mr. Gorbachev, like so many people of good will throughout the centuries and across cultures, has been touched by the inspiring example of "Il Poverello."

Friar John Gibbons: Rushing Back to Russia

Let’s face it. There are some people we’d all like to ship off to Siberia for a long, long time. Conversely, there are a very few people in this world who would think about going there voluntarily. Our brother, John Gibbons, belongs to the latter category. John, 45, a Franciscan priest of our province originally from the Portland, Oregon area, has actually spent more than four and a half years in Siberia already. He volunteered as part of the Russian Federation (St. Francis Foundation) project, a special international effort established by the Franciscans to serve the Roman Catholic community in the former Soviet Union and to implant the order in both Russia and Kazakhstan. Now he’s about to move again.

I met John this week while he was home briefly on a furlough from his assignment at Annunciation Parish in Arceniev, Siberia, about nine time zones east of Moscow. John was home for a few weeks of r&r to see friars, family and friends, renew his visa, and shift gears for his new assignment on the other side of Russia, as formation director in St. Petersburg.

I asked John how it felt to live in Russia so far, how it was to leave his first assignment, and what he looked forward to in his new ministry. “First of all, “ he said, “it took me about three full years to really get grounded in the Russian language and to know my way around things culturally.” John spent two of those years studying Russian intensively, establishing a solid foundation linguistically with the hope of spending his life ministering to the Russian people. Even though he is a seasoned pilgrim and polyglot— previous sojourns include stays in India, Thailand, and Guatemala—John has had to deal with the demands of cultural adaptation: “The culture shock sometimes comes and goes. It just sneaks up and hits you at odd moments at first”—but now he feels much more at home. Establishing contacts and friendships among the friars and in the community have eased the transition. An enthusiasm for winter sports like skiing and ice skating has helped as well. According to John, however, language, food, and climate are a piece of cake compared with the dubious pleasures of dealing with Russian bureaucracy—layer upon layer upon layer of mind-boggling and frustrating complexity— a carryover from centuries of Tsarist tyranny followed by Communist rule.

It is exactly this perplexing bureaucracy that John has been learned to negotiate successfully during his Siberian sojourn. A spanking new church of The Annunciation in Arceniev, where he served as pastor, stands as eloquent testimony to both the tenacity of the friars and the generosity of Russian parishioners and international donors. The parish serves a small, but very special community of Roman Catholics—in the main, descendants of traditionally Catholic ethnic minorities (Poles, Lithuanians, Ukranians, ethnic Germans) packed off to permanent exile during the Stalinist era. For decades, the Church was underground and the faith was passed on by the babushkas/ grandmas in the absence of clergy.

John reflects on the change in assignment with a sense of equanimity tinged with a bit of sadness at leave-taking: “I had to leave Siberia just after the intensity of Holy Week and Easter liturgies. On top of that, you can imagine how it felt to leave people you come to know and like and love so much.” “But”, he grins and shrugs good naturedly, “It’s all for the sake of the Gospel and the good of the Order!”

John’s new assignment is as formation director for the Franciscan community in the Russian Federation. He will be joining six other friars in the St. Petersburg fraternity, three of whom are students. The students, by the way, are all ethnic Russians who have recently completed their novitiate in Italy. Russian is the lingua franca in this international community, whose members also staff the Franciscan parish of the Sacred Heart, and are involved in varying degrees in social work in the St. Petersburg metropolitan area. “I have no idea of what lies ahead,” John says, but he also states that he feels hopeful and optimistic about his new assignment. A ministry of presence and service is the priority of the Franciscan mission, not proselytism: “Our work is to establish a presence and support for the Roman Catholic community which is already here, but was severely persecuted under Communism,” he stresses. The friars, he emphasizes, are not in competition with our Orthodox brethren. Ideally, John would like to work himself out of a job: “Our ultimate goal is to have Russian priests, brothers, sisters, and lay leaders serving the Russian Catholic community.”

The project of the St. Francis Foundation is one of several international endeavors established by the Order. Others include our Africa Project as well as the Custody of the Holy Land. Although many of the more than 100 Franciscan provinces throughout the world sponsor their own mission efforts, these projects are open to friars regardless of their province or country of origin. Another of our confreres, Father David Gaa, is presently in Kazakhstan. In addition, two friars of the Province of St. Barbara are currently serving in the Holy Land. And in the past, we have had representation in the Africa Project as well.
God go with you, John, in your new assignment! And “благодарю!”

Getting back on track!

Sacramento (April 10) Yesterday, it finally happened. The moment I had been dreading for weeks, even months now. A fellow friar came up to me and with a friendly tap on the back asked, “So, Brother, is your vocations blogspot dead now? I haven’t seen anything new in a long time.”
Grief, shame, embarrassment all rushed to my face at once. Busted!

Well, Brothers, it’s like this. Advent turned into Christmas which led to flu season, then Lent and Holy Week. And of course, there’s no way to get anything done just after Easter. Well, never mind… I think you get the picture.

The truth is, when it comes to this little blog site, I’ve gotten off track. And I’m sorry about that. So. Now’s the time to end the derailment and start over again. So here goes.

Speaking of “tracks”, one of my favorite ways to get back on track spiritually is literally to take to the tracks. The city where I live, Sacramento, has a wonderful commuter train, the Capitol Corridor, run jointly by Amtrak and Caltrans, the California state department of transportation. For exactly thirteen dollars and ten cents (discounted fare), you can take to the rails in perfect comfort— breezing majestically alongside the interstate and down to the Bay Area, just 80 miles and a bit less than two hours away. Okay, so it’s not a bullet train. But it gets you there.

What I like about the Capitol Corridor is everything. It’s double-decker, air-conditioned, quiet, and carpeted. Sort of like a terrestrial Boeing 707, only better. There’s wi-fi service and outlets for your laptop. And, if you grab a morning train, you get a free daily newspaper. Oh, and there’s a café car when you can order drinks and snacks. And for us bicycle aficionados, there’s a bike rack in every car.

But you wanna know the truth? Mostly I really love the peace and quiet. When the world is too much with me, I try to take off on Amtrak, even if it's only for a day trip. Outside of commuting hours, there's plenty of room. And as we begin to pull out from the station, I start to disconnect. It’s wonderful! This little choo-choo train then becomes my private rolling chapel. Really. I can sit back and savor the kind of scenery which you will never ever see from the freeway— the lost and hidden California of a century ago— as rice fields yield to rolling hills that in turn lean into the sparkling waters of the San Francisco Bay. And as some of the craziness of our modern, urban world recedes, God’s world starts to come into better focus.

And I can begin to rest. And reach back into prayer. And the trust that God is present, is guiding us, is healing us, is restoring and renewing us. Whenever and ever we’re willing to get back on track.

I hope you’ve found your place and space to get back on track as well. We all need it. Especially if you’re in the process of vocational discernment, taking the time to realize that we are “human beings”, not just “humans doing” helps to ease and restore both mind and heart. In that way, one can begin to listen more carefully, more deeply, and even more confidently for God’s voice.

So. I’m back. Stay tuned. Next week I’ll be putting up a new entry, with news and views about Franciscan life. Promise. In the meantime, enjoy the ride. And God be with you. Fr. Chuck

Blessings... and a Challenge for the New Year!

Peace and all good! And blessings for the New Year!
AND... a challenge as well. If you are looking to make a New Year's resolution, then here's a suggestion. Put more energy into your discernment process. The following article,"Discernment is a Verb", is a piece I've written for The Way of St. Francis magazine (Jan/Feb, 2008). I hope you will find its practical suggestions helpful in your own faith journey. Good luck and get going!-- Fr. Chuck

What should I do with my life? What is God asking of me? How can I be sure I’m not making a horrendous mistake?

My office phone will ring. A slight hesitation on the other end of the line, and then a quiet voices asks, “Is this the Franciscans?” “Well, yes, how can I help you?” “Well, I’m thinking of becoming one of you.” “Okaaaaay”. Then, we’re off and running.

I’m a vocations coordinator. My job is to help men (21-45, Roman Catholic, single) to know about the Franciscans and themselves, and whether or not God may be leading them to our religious community. During the course of a calendar year, I will personally speak to about 400 inquirers— just a little more than one a day. They may write or phone, or catch me after Mass. Increasingly these days, they’ll check out our website (www.sbfranciscans.org) or our vocations blog (http://friarsidechats.blogspot.com) and then dash off an email. In reality, though, only about one out of every hundred men who contact us will enter our community. So what about the other 99? Are they just chopped liver?

My work experience confirms my deep conviction that God is calling all of us. That everyone has a vocation—to know, love and serve God in this life and to be with God in the next-- as my childhood catechism put it so succinctly. Only a very few people will come to religious life, but the search is the same for us all. “How can I know what God is asking of me?” I don’t have the answers, but I can suggest a process that might help:

Pray. A lot. And on a regular basis. Make a daily appointment to spend time with God—and then keep it. Our Catholic tradition is a treasure trove of spirituality, so find a prayer style that suits you (lectio divina, centering prayer, etc.). And make Eucharist the center of your prayer week.

Shop around. I tell people. Look, the first thing you need to do is to look around. Pretend that you are planning an exotic vacation. Get as many ‘travel brochures’ as you can. Don’t worry about making a decision yet; just dream for once!

Share your secret. Preferably with someone you trust. The people who know us often know us a whole lot better than we suspect. They can give us very good feedback very fast. They know our personalities as well as many (but not all) of our talents, dreams, strengths and weaknesses. When I announced to my family that I wanted to become a Franciscan and a priest, I was shocked. Nobody even blinked. My sisters said, “Oh we knew that all along about you. But we didn’t say anything because we figured you needed to work that out for yourself.” Gee, thanks.

Get some help. Good help. We call this spiritual direction. Advice and accompaniment from someone (a priest, a religious sister or brother, a layperson) who has received specific training in this ministry. It is not a good idea to approach a busy pastor. Or someone who has no knowledge of ministry. The spiritual director will meet with you on a regular basis to listen deeply—very deeply—to what you have to say about yourself, your prayer life, your images and understanding of God, and so on. They won’t tell you what you should do. But they will tell you what you are saying about yourself. And what you keep saying consistently over time. Journaling is an important adjunct to this activity.

Get your hands dirty. If you’re thinking about working with the poor, for example, stop thinking about it. Get out there and work with them. So connect with an organization, preferably a church-based one, that needs volunteers and go for it.

Join a club. Only make sure you are an active member. Community is not for bystanders. Your parish is the perfect place to start.

Jump in! If you don’t put your body where you think your mind and heart ought to be, you’ll never know what God is asking or inviting you to do. Break down your decision into manageable parts… and then take that first step.

When we do these things-- gather information, share our secrets, find some help, get our hands dirty, and jump in-- we cannot fail to learn a great deal about who we are and how God may be calling us.

I repeat. Each of us has a vocation. We are all on a spiritual journey. But when we do the footwork, we cannot fail to grow spiritually and become more confident and secure in our decisions. So, if you haven’t done so already, turn your own discernment into a verb and see what unfolds.