Preaching on providence

I had the joy of celebrating the opening mass for the general chapter of the Sisters of Providence. What an honour to have been invited! I was just so amazed and delighted to be among these impressive women who have offered so much to God and their neighbour.

My homily was, as you can imagine, on the theme of providence. This is actually a fairly major theme for me in my own spiritual life. As a kid I used to ask myself, "Why am I who I am?" In other words, how was it that I was born into the family I was, in the country and society I was? Why was I born a boy and not a girl, why was my skin/hair/eye colour what it was, why did I have the ancestry I did, etc.?

Of course, it would be easy to say that these sorts of attributes can't be answered with a "why". They simply are what they are. But deep down, I always felt that these things were not just random accidents, or simply the result of some past historical process. And if they weren't, then although I couldn't name it at the time, I was already open in my heart to the idea providence.

I even find the word "providence" fascinating. The root is "pro-videre", i.e. to "see forward". It can mean things like to foresee, to plan for the future, and so on, but basically it means being intentional about knowing the future, and it implies adjusting to meet that future. A good example is a person driving a car: the driver has to "foresee" what is coming, both what he can see, and what he can't but which, through experience, might show up. And of course, the driver needs to steer, brake, accelerate etc. as a function of all that.

Of course, the most important element of driving is knowing where you are going. A driver doesn't just drive, he navigates. "Providence" therefore is not just about reacting well to your environment, it is about having a plan so you can get to your destination.

This is why I think this concept is so important with regards to God. People often experience disappointment with regards to God's providence, thinking that God has not "provided" for them adequately. I can understand this in many cases, especially for people who have been true victims of abuse or neglect and are in the process of reclaiming their strength. But not everyone is in that situation: when a sense of entitlement or a consumerist mentality infects our soul, we lose not just our trust in God's providence, we also lose sight of God's plan.

These are real spiritual diseases. A consumer mentality, when it affects/infests our spiritual life, gradually causes us to objectify others as "suppliers" for our needs and desires. We can even treat God that way. And when we lose sight of God's plan, or worse, the very idea that there even is a plan in the first place, then we implicitly place ourselves as the primary author of that plan for us. It places us at the centre. This is a powerful illusion in this powerful civilization we live in. But when the unexpected does happen, it shocks us in ways we just can't handle.

I believe there are things we can do to keep a sense of God's providence in our life. First of all, we need to see all things as gift. Yes, we may "own" things, but we need to see them as blessings, and not as possessions. And this applies not just to our stuff, but to our relationships. Our job, our school, our family -- all is gift. Of course, when these things are sources of suffering, seeing them as gift is not as easy, but leaving that aside for a future blog post we can at least start with the mundane-to-positive things in our life.

We also need to develop a sense of God's plan. Simply put, human history is bigger than our history. God has been at work for literally billions of years before each of us got here, and history will roll on after we will have died. What is our sense of where we come from, and where we are going? Having a clear sense of these issues helps us to handle whatever might come.

The second point ties to the first. Gifts must be honoured, not exploited. And when we see all things as gift, we enter the plan of love of the giver, who sought to bless us with the gift. In other words, the first attitude prepares and reinforces the second.

It's curious, but I've noticed a lot people reacting very negatively to the idea of providence. It's like they think providence is some naive, fairy tale notion, and that it is important to live in the real world instead. Is it a defence mechanism? Some fear of being disappointed, maybe even by God? It might even be anger, or guilt at feeling angry. It can be really complicated -- but even those feelings can be part of divine providence. After all, if they help a person face something they are running from, or identify a deep-seated need for peace, then God's providence is at work.

Happy Festa di San Marziale to all my Calabrese friends!

I had the opportunity today to celebrate mass at Saint Michael and Saint Anthony parish on the occasion of the feast of San Marziale Martire. He's the patron saint of Isca sullo Ionio in Calabria. This was the 50th anniversary of the feast in Montreal, and my chance to discover it. Several blocks of Saint Viateur were closed off for a street festival, and after the mass there was a traditional Italian procession with the image of the saint through the neighbourhood.

Unfortunately I had to leave shortly after the mass itself, but it was an honour to be there -- as well as a chance to practice my Italian, as pretty much all of the mass was in that language! They originally offered to let me preside in English, but I was happy to give it my best shot. I may have wound up inventing my own dialect along the way, but hopefully I didn't do too much of an injustice to the language of Dante. In my experience, though, the Italian people are very forgiving for linguistic errors, and just love it when you try. To my Italian, and especially my Calabrese friends -- alla prossima!

Time to buckle down for my thesis

I got my most recent report cards from the Institut de droit canonique in Strasbourg, where I have been a distance student for the past 7 years. They confirmed the good news that I passed my final paper, which means the only thing left to do is the thesis. Good thing I have a clear topic, and the general outline is already done. Really, all I have to do is 60 pages of fill in the blanks, i.e. yikes!

I started this journey a year before I was made a bishop, and when that new reality came along I figured it was a sign from God to drop out and focus on other things. When I would pray about it, though, I kept getting a very clear signal that the Lord wanted me to keep going, even if it would take longer. The Institut de droit canonique was really good with me too, offering me lots of extensions along the way. It has been a fantastic learning experience, and one which has already been of service to the Church in ways I did not expect.

Of course, it has also been a lot of work too. I'm sure every student has, at some point, felt the temptation to procrastinate, or needed a push to break through writers block. I'm all set up to use July as a month of writing -- in addition to the new laptop and reference materials, I've got my brain food (i.e. snacks) and study music (you wouldn't believe it if I told you) ready to go. But your prayers would be appreciated as well!

The Gospel and animals

So I was walking down the street today (June 27) to get to a lunch appointment when a guy came up to me while I was waiting at a red light. He handed me the above two cards, and then began to berate the Catholic Church for (in his view) not doing enough to protect the animals, despite Jesus having eliminated animal sacrifice.

Such is life when you walk around downtown Montreal in a Roman collar -- similar to a box of chocolates, you just never know what you're gonna get.

Coming back to my mystery interlocutor, after offering me his cards (as well as a piece of his mind) he took off in another direction. The whole exchange was less than 10 seconds, and as the light changed green I thought to myself, "Now I know what to blog about for today!"

So for what its worth, here is a brief summary of what the Catholic Church teaches about animals, vegan diets, etc.:

The message on the cards includes an exhortation to love animals, because (as the card says) God does. I have no problem agreeing with the general thrust of this message, and in fact it is part of official Catholic teaching. However, it must be lived in a balanced way. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, which acts as a summary of Catholic doctrine, has this to say on the subject:

2416 Animals are God's creatures. He surrounds them with his providential care. By their mere existence they bless him and give him glory. Thus men owe them kindness. We should recall the gentleness with which saints like St. Francis of Assisi or St. Philip Neri treated animals.

2417 God entrusted animals to the stewardship of those whom he created in his own image. Hence it is legitimate to use animals for food and clothing. They may be domesticated to help man in his work and leisure. Medical and scientific experimentation on animals is a morally acceptable practice if it remains within reasonable limits and contributes to caring for or saving human lives.

2418 It is contrary to human dignity to cause animals to suffer or die needlessly. It is likewise unworthy to spend money on them that should as a priority go to the relief of human misery. One can love animals; one should not direct to them the affection due only to persons.

I recognize that there are some who will object to some of these points because they affirm a special place for human beings within the animal kingdom (and indeed, within creation). However, that special status within the overall ecology of our world is definitely part of the Biblical perspective too (a subject for another blog post sometime).

Within the religious practice of the Catholic Church, there is nothing that mandates harm to animals. For example, as the guy who handed me those cards pointed out, the tradition of animal sacrifices found throughout Hebrew history was not carried over to Christianity. On the flip side, our official book of blessings does have prayers for the blessing of animals. I even got asked to bless a dog in a veterinary hospital once (a neat story for another day).

With regards to special diets, we know that many religions require their followers to follow such diets: kosher for Jews, halal for Muslims, various diets within Hinduism, etc. But for Catholics, there is no moral imperative in natural or divine law to eat certain foods or to avoid certain foods. The Torah does state that certain foods should not be eaten as they are ritually unclean, but the common Christian tradition says that Jesus declared all foods clean (Mark 7:19). The vision of Saint Peter as described in Acts 10:15-16 uses the fact of all foods being clean as analogy to enourage the inclusion of new peoples and cultures in the Church.

While there is no moral imperative in natural or divine law to follow a specific diet, the Church does teach certain diets as part of the spiritual practice of penance. We are asked to avoid eating meat on certain days (Ash Wednesday and the Friday's of Lent, in particular), and to avoid eating more than one full meal on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Of course, this is just a minimum -- we can choose a more restricted diet if we wish. For the last couple of years, for example, I've followed a vegan diet during Lent, and I've gotten a lot out of the practice (a story for another time).

On the flip side, the Bible warns us that the following of a certain diet can also lead to a kind of pridefulness. The film Scott Pilgrim vs. the World has a hilarious take on the subject (sorry for the mild swear at the beginning as the title character defends the honour of Toronto):

I must confess, I did not get any vegan powers myself when I followed that diet during Lent, but that's probably because I took Sundays off :-) And before I hear protests, no that was not cheating. To avoid falling into the pridefulness a religious diet can encourage, the Church actually suggests certain days where we are called to feast, not fast! We even call them "feast days", as opposed to the aforementioned "fast days", and Sunday is the essential feast day, even during Lent.

Coming back to the fellow who printed these cards, he is correct that the original plan of God described in the story of creation in the book of Genesis was, in fact, vegan. More than that, it was fruitarian, an even more strict form of veganism. However, we must remember that the story is highly symbolic in nature, and cannot be taken to be a simple outline of a plan of daily living. After all, Adam and Eve walked around naked too, and yet I don't think God is asking all of us to practice continuous nudism as a form of discipleship -- apart from the purely moral and aesthetic arguments against such a practice, it could get a bit chilly during a Canadian winter! Brrr!

That's enough for now. I've already got enough material for three more blog posts on these and related subjects -- so stay tuned!

Congratulations to Edwin and Nora!

Congratulations to Edwin (baby on the left) and Nora (baby on the right), two cousins I had the honour of baptising today. I have known (some of) the families for many years now, and I've had the pleasure to get to meet even more. God bless to all, and welcome to God's family!

Corpus Christi procession 2017

Great video of the procession we had on the feast of Corpus Christ. Thousands of people wound through the streets of downtown Montreal, starting from Mary Queen of the World Cathedral and ending at Saint Patrick's basilica. God was good to us with the weather, too: the temperature was perfect, mild with a light breeze, and the rain held off until exactly the moment we made it back to our starting point. I'm already looking forward to next year.

Prayers on a plane

When you are a priest, you never know when you'll be called upon. There are things you can plan, such as a meeting I had in Toronto on June 13-14. But then there are things that are just surprises from God. On my way back from Toronto I wound up sitting next to a lovely couple from Arizona who were on their way to Wabush in Labrador (quite a trip!). After some typical chit chat they asked me to pray with them for a member of their family who is sick. So the three of us, sharing row 16, leaned in and prayed. It was a lovely (and surprising) moment of ministry. God bless to them in their journeys.

Confirmations at the Filipino Mission

Today is the feast of Pentecost, and I had the pleasure of visiting Our Lady of the Philippines Mission to offer the sacrament of confirmation to 9 children and 3 adults. The welcome was warm as only people of the Filipino culture can do, the ceremony was full of life, and the meal afterwards was delicious! Bring on the lechon!

Many thanks to Father Frank Alvarez, as well as the team of catechists, who joined in the picture you see above (click on it to expand). Congratulations to you!

Confirmations at my parish

As a bishop I have the chance to celebrate confirmations in many different places. Tonight, however, I had the joy of presiding confirmation in the parish where I am pastor (Our Lady of Fatima). I was so proud of those young people! And they were really good, participating well (reading and singing) and answering my questions at the homily. May their lives be filled with the Holy Spirit always!

A talk I gave at an interfaith event for peace

This is a talk I gave at the Interfaith Human Rights Celebration for World Peace organized by Canadians for Coexistence. Many thanks to Rabbi Alan Bright for his warm welcome to Shaare Zedek synagogue.

Funny story: I had the time wrong in my calendar and got there over an hour early. I wound up mixing with a family that had come in for some business. They were a bit surprised to see me there, as you can imagine, but a bit of joking banter helped lighten the mood. I'm always honoured to be in a house of God.

A look back at 2016

2016 was a big year for me in many ways, so rather than just send Christmas cards like I usually do I thought of sending an end-of-year letter instead. I’ve always appreciated getting news from others, and I’m hoping this letter will be meaningful for you.

First, an important piece of context. In July of 2015 our family got word that my father had been diagnosed with an untreatable form of pancreatic cancer. We did not expect him to last very long, but to our surprise and delight Papa was still with us for Christmas and New Year’s, and was doing very well. It was a good start to the year.

Towards the end of January I was blessed to be able to take a trip to Barbados to visit different sets of friends who have winter homes there. I was originally going to stay in a parish, but a mix up in the timing actually brought an even better opportunity: Bishop Jason Gordon very generously let me stay at his home right near Saint Patrick Cathedral (and a five minute walk from the beach!) I went to be able to get some sun, but I came back with new and renewed friendships. It was truly a blessed time.

The first few months of 2016 brought to a close an initiative I began five years ago: the extended pastoral visitation of our parishes. Three parishes remained, and so I got a chance to spend time at Saint Patrick’s (January), Saint Malachy’s (February), and Ascension of our Lord (April). Those five years of visits were very helpful in my ministry, and frankly were a tremendous blessing for me as I got to see first hand the living dynamism of our christian communities.

Ash Wednesday brought us into Lent, during which I had the chance to preach a three-day Lenten mission at Saint Edmund of Canterbury parish. As the Church throughout the world was engaged in the Year of Mercy declared by Pope Francis, each evening’s theme looked at some aspect of the mercy God shows us in his love. Evening #1 explored the theme of mercy in the Bible, evening #2 was on the works of mercy in the world, and evening #3 was about living reconciliation – not just the sacrament, but the reality of reconciliation in our life. After each presentation I answered questions from the crowd. It was great to be in teaching mode.

Lent led to Holy Week, and soon it was Easter. My father was visibly weakening, but was still with us both in body and in spirit. Our family gathered with joy for Easter dinner, but within a couple of weeks we were gathering again as he took a turn for the worse. Papa died in his sleep on April 9, sometime in the early morning. Saint Maurice parish in Ottawa (Nepean) was absolutely packed for his funeral on April 14. It was an explosion of grace, and while there was sadness there was also a lot of joy. We buried Papa next next day in the family plot at Notre Dame cemetery in Ottawa in a small ceremony attended by family and friends. Despite our sadness, a silver lining soon emerged: my sister announced that she was pregnant with her 3rd child, and was due on Christmas day! Given the timing, it meant that the first person from our family to know would have been my father, from his point of view in Heaven.

On the pastoral front, the post-Easter season saw the launch of our first-ever diocese-wide Alpha course (April 3). I had been to London, England the previous year to get to know the leadership of the Alpha movement, and we were now ready to offer the course to the English-speaking sector of Montreal. The course gathered people from across Montreal, Laval, and beyond. It was our hope that this session of the course would let people learn the skills to bring it back to their parishes. I am so grateful to the team that put everything together – one day the Lord will let them know how transformative their labour really was for others.

April 26, 2016, was the inaugural general meeting of members for Catholic Action Montreal, a new charity launched with the blessing of Archbishop Christian Lépine to gather the energies of our people to produce practical works of charity. I was elected to the new Board of Directors, with the shared mission to set the vision for the new charity. Exciting times!

May was a very busy month. The many celebrations of confirmation keep bishops occupied after Easter, and 2016 was no exception. I was in Toronto on May 10-11 for the annual dialogue between the Catholic and Orthodox bishops, and it was good to connect again with these men that I’ve been blessed to get to know these past few years. I flew to Strasbourg, France, in the last week of May for a session of exams in canon law. I’m happy to report that I passed, meaning that I completed all the requirements of year 2 of my program. Of course, it did take me 6 years to do it, and even with that I was only 2/3 of the way to completion… but more on that later.

June brought other ministry initiatives. On June 7, Catholic Christian Outreach (CCO) launched its new presence in Montreal, working in conjunction with the Catholic chaplain of Concordia University. I flew to Halifax for the first-ever Divine Renovation conference June 13-14, where I had a chance to speak as part of a panel and where I got a chance to connect with a Montreal priest who was completing a 6-month internship to be able to bring the Divine Renovation approach back home with him. I got back just in time to be one of the principal co-consecrators for Bishop-elect Alain Faubert, who became a new auxiliary bishop for Montreal on the evening on June 15. June 25 saw the kickoff of a new camping season at Camp Kinkora, and I was blessed with the chance to say mass for the staff of the camp as it started the season with new management. Finally, I was in Philadelphia June 29 and 30 for the Catholic Leadership Roundtable annual meeting, where I had a chance to be interviewed for my take on the link between managerial practices and church culture. Philadelphia also brought a nice surprise, in that to my delight the Petit chanteurs de Mont Royal were in town for some concerts.

And then, July. And vacation. And probably one of the best spiritual retreats I’ve ever had. The Jesuits have a house in Guelph, Ontario, and that’s where I followed the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius for eight days. Honestly, those days were a balm on my soul. I was really pooped, and all that work meant that I hadn’t really had the time to properly grieve the loss of my father. Those days in Guelph gave me a chance to rest, to recuperate, and to reconnect with the Lord. I am grateful beyond words to those who made it all happen.

I got back to Montreal in August and found myself facing a choice. Archbishop Lépine had asked Bishop Faubert and myself to each become a Vicar General for the archdiocese. This meant that I would have to leave my role as Episcopal Vicar to the English-speaking faithful, a calling that had brought me great joy over the past five years (admittedly with a few challenges too). Archbishop Lépine and I had discussed this change prior to the July vacation, so it was one of the questions I brought with my on my retreat. I began my new role on September 1, 2016.

The honeymoon, such as it was, didn’t last long. The next day (September 2) I got a call from my sister Miriam. Through her tears she informed me that she was already in labour – at only 23.5 weeks, perilously close to the edge of viability for the baby. The pains subsided shortly after, but the threat of a severely premature birth hung over us. I headed to Ottawa as soon as I could, and while I was visiting Miriam on Monday, September 5, the labour pains began again. Little baby Temperance was born that day, weighing only 1.5 pounds (680 grams). She was rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) of the Ottawa General Hospital, where she would spend the next several months learning to breathe, to eat, and generally to be a baby. It was a stressful time, especially for my sister and her family. Still, people rallied to help them. A meal train began to take care of the cooking for a while, and a GoFundMe campaign was launched which raised over $10,000 to help them with expenses. Some of the neighbourhood kids even did a lemonade stand fundraiser to help do their part. I am eternally grateful to all those who offered prayers and material support for Temperance and her family.

While that drama was unfolding in Ottawa, my work as a bishop kept up its usual crazy September pace. I am the Bishop-promoter of the Apostleship of the Sea for Canada, a ministry which took a new step forward when we both hosted a gathering for port chaplains at the beginning in September as well as a special lunch for bishops with port chaplains during the plenary meeting of the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops in Cornwall at the end of the month. I also preached a 4-day mission in the middle of September at my parish of Our Lady of Fatima, and finally I headed to Strasbourg, France, once again to start the third (and final) academic year of my degree in canon law. I’ll be honest, as I was boarding the plane for Paris I wondered if I needed my head examined, because this third year would involve one trip of a week’s duration per month until March (i.e. seven times!). Still, this was another thing I had prayed about during my summer retreat, and I really felt that God wanted me to do this – so off I went.

October brought with it a wonderful grace to which Our Lady of Fatima parish had been working for several months: the celebration of the dedication of our parish church on Thursday, October 13, the 99th anniversary of the Miracle of the Sun at Fatima. The Sunday after, October 16, the parish celebrated the living stones that make up the community by hosting an intercultural day, showcasing the many nations and cultures that make up the parish. It was amazing, and as I boarded the plane that evening to France for trip two of seven, I did so with real joy in my heart. Not long after returning from France seven days later, I was headed to the airport again, this time to speak alongside my good friend Glenn Smith at a conference in New York City run by an Evangelical think-tank dedicated to urban missionary work. It’s rare that a Catholic bishop gets a chance to address a couple of thousand evangelical pastors, and I was truly honoured to have the chance. It was also my first-ever chance to see the Big Apple, and staying at a hotel right near Times Square added something special to the experience.

The month of November brought with it a truly extraordinary experience: Montreal’s second Parish Vitality Conference (November 10-12). With access to workshops, speakers, and a rally gathering our movements and associations, 250+ attendees explored how we can transform our love for our parishes into practical movement forward for their growth and vitality. Just a few days before, Father Ray Lafontaine was announced as my successor for the pastoral leadership of the English-speaking Catholics of our Archdiocese, and so the conference served as a good occasion to “pass the torch”. I congratulate the team who did such amazing work on the conference – I am so proud of you.

The fact of no longer having two jobs meant, of course, that now I could bring greater focus to my role as Vicar General for economic and administrative affairs. And there was plenty of work to do! My 3-5 year action plan was approved, giving the green light to how we would organize things in the months ahead. I worked on drafts of new policies for human resources and document control, with other implementation plans to follow. And I had two more week-long trips to France, one toward the end of the November and another three weeks later, in December. There was never a dull moment, including a chance to present to a parliamentary commission in Quebec City (December 7, my 15th anniversary of priesthood) and to connect with the Department of Canadian Heritage in Ottawa, where I met Minister Mélanie Joly (December 8).

All that administrative stuff began to die down as Christmas approached, and it was with a deep sense of satisfaction that I joined my parishioners in prayer for the masses of the Christmas weekend. I made it to Ottawa on December 27, to spend the few remaining days of the year with family. People asked me what I was planning on doing for that time, and I answered, “I’m going to hold Temperance in my arms. I have no other plans for the rest.” And so I did, a moment that was definitely a highlight of the whole year. Little Temperance, you will recall, was originally due on December 25, and holding her was my best Christmas present ever.

Like I said, 2016 was a big year, and a tough one. Lots more could have been said. I want to thank all those who supported me and my family with their friendship, prayers, and patience. 2017 already promises to also be a big year as well, so stay tuned!

Visit to Martyr's shrine

Was in Midland today and saw where the Jesuit martyrs were killed and buried. Simple but very moving.

Visiting Trevi nel Lazio (part 2)

In my previous post, I described the first day of the two-day trip Father Stephen Otvos and I made to Trevi nel Lazio, the site of my titular diocese. The adventure continued the next day, albeit not in Trevi but in the surrounding region.

Father Stephen and I had a quick breakfast in the morning and then headed out around 10am. Our destination was the Shrine of the Holy Trinity in Vallepietra. This is quite an amazing little shrine, founded well over 1000 years ago as a monastery of Byzantine monks who were probably refugees from some persecution in the Eastern Roman Empire (some say as much as 1500 years ago). They basically set themselves up in a cave high up on the cliffs. One of the remaining frescos from the era of these monks is this one of the Holy Trinity:

Western depictions of the Trinity from this era usually represented the Father as an older man, and the Son as a younger man (the Holy Spirit was usually another image, like a dove). Easterners, on the other hand, tended to depict the Trinity as 3 similar beings, which is one reason why it is believed this is a Byzantine-inspired icon.

Now when I say those monks set themselves up in the cliffs, I wasn’t kidding. Here is the cliff, with a view of the valley below:

We were supposed to meet Father Alberto (the parish priest of Trevi and rector of this shrine) but we underestimated the time it would take to get there. End result: instead of celebrating mass with him at 11am, I got the job for the noon mass! Here is the altar where it took place:

All these photos don’t really do the site justice, mind you, so here is a small video I did to put it all in perspective:

After a delicious lunch with the priests ministering at the shrine, we headed on our way. Next stop: Subiaco, resting place of Saint Benedict, founder of one of the most important monastic traditions and arguably one of the key figures of Western civilization.

The is the monastery built over the grotto where Saint Benedict lived for a time:

This is the grotto itself:

After visiting the first monastery, we headed down to the monastery of Saint Scholastica (named after Saint Benedict’s sister), which is actually the older of the two.

We took a guided tour of the monastery, although it was interrupted when the Abbot showed up. He had heard there was a visiting bishop, so he took some time to visit with us.

And that was it! We were all pretty beat by that point, so the car ride home was fairly quiet. Still, there was one surprise left for us. When we got back to Rome, Father Stephen and I wanted to offer Marco some money for the gas and accommodation expenses that would have been incurred (and gas, I might add, is pretty expensive in Italy). But he refused, explaining that a collection had actually up among some of the townsfolk of Trevi, to split the costs between them. We were their guests, all the way.

As Marco drove off, Father Stephen and I were left exhausted but awestruck. What an incredible weekend, marked first and foremost by a sense of hospitality that people rarely if ever get a chance to experience. There was no doubt about it — we had been blessed, pure and simple.

Visiting Trevi nel Lazio (part 1)

Last year, as I was preparing for my ordination to the episcopate, I wrote a blog post entitled Introducing my diocese. In that post I explained what it means for an auxiliary bishop to have a titular diocese, and how lucky I was to have one with some people still in it! I mentioned that I hoped to visit the place the next time I was in Italy.

Well, I’m in Italy now, on my last full day before I return to Canada. And yes, during this time I had a chance to visit Trevi… and what a trip it was!

The story begins when I was contacted in April 5, 2012, by Marco Iacobucci, a young photographer living in Rome who grew up in Trevi nel Lazio. He had recently started a blog for his home town, and had gone on the Internet to try and find articles he could link to. Imagine his surprise to discover that there was now a bishop with Trevi as the titular see! So he wrote to me, wanting to interview me for the blog. I responded that I would be in Italy in the month of July, so instead of an email interview why not meet in person? This set the wheels in motion.

I got to Italy on June 26, but was initially occupied with the events surrounding the pallium ceremony for Archbishop Christian Lépine. Still, Marco and I did arrange for a meeting in Rome the next week for lunch. As it turns out, he didn’t come alone!

From left to right: Francesco, myself, Marco, and Daniele.

This small delegation, to my surprise, brought presents from Trevi: some books on the town, and some agricultural products (wine, olives, honey… that sort of thing). I was very touched. Over lunch we made plans for me to visit Trevi over a weekend, settling on July 14-15 as the dates, as my good friend Father Stephen Otvos would also be present and I hoped to share this kind of unique experience with someone else as well.

On July 14, Marco came to pick Father Stephen and I up in the morning. There was very little traffic heading out of Rome (the advantage of an early Saturday morning, I suppose), so we made it to the Simbruini mountains in good time. It felt like a summer drive through the Laurentians, and it turns out that Pope John Paul II spend some vacation time here at one point, climbing the mountain peaks in his younger days. The town itself was very picturesque:

After dropping our bags off at the B&B where we would be staying, we headed on to the town proper. Like a lot of old European towns, Trevi was build with a castle at the top of a hill, and was surrounded by a town wall. Over time the town outgrew the limits of the walls, meaning that the “town gates” are actually within the town itself, separating the medieval central portion from the later portion. Our first stop was to these gates. However, as we got closer Marco hinted that a surprise would be waiting for us:

Yes, my friends, they were ringing the town bells for us. We were met at the gates by the mayor, as well as some other representatives of the town, and into the medieval portion. A small crowd was gathered there as well, as it had been announced in the local newspaper that we’d be coming:

The parish church, as it turned out, was not far from the gates, so we headed there first. Once again, there was some fanfare as we arrived:

Father Stephen and I were then given a tour of the interior, and had a chance to head up to the organ loft as well.

The organ itself is a magnificent instrument, having been recently restored. It is now used for concerts, as part of the promotion of the cultural life of the region.

Now while the parish is dedicated to the Assumption of Mary, the patron saint of Trevi is actually Saint Peter the Hermit, a holy preacher who died around 1050 A.D. at the age of 25. The basement of the church is a shrine dedicated to him, and contains his relics. The first photo is of an altar reliquary containing his bones, the second photo is of a portable reliquary containing his vestments, and the third photo is a reliquary bust containing his skull, which is carried in procession on his feast day (August 30).

It turns out that Saint Peter is also buried in Trevi, so after visiting the parish church, we headed to his shrine. Father Stephen and I went downstairs to pray at the place where he died:

There is very little about Saint Peter on the Internet, as far as I can tell (hmmm… I think a Wikipedia article will someday be in order). Still, despite the fact that he lived almost 1000 years ago, the people here are clearly very proud of “their” saint. One person explained it to me this way: “Saint Peter preached and did a lot of miracles. He died very young, but the people were convinced of his holiness, so the town canonized him and started to celebrate his feast. Eventually the Pope recognized he was a saint.” Not quite the way we do things today, but what a great description!

After all this visiting it was time for lunch. We headed over to a small restaurant that serves local cuisine, and tried a bit of everything.

As it turned out, we were going to need our strength, because the next stop (after a walk though the medieval section) was the castle at the centre of town.

We were given a guided tour of the interior of the castle, which includes an exhibit dedicated to the archeology of the area. The earliest records we have of Trevi are from the Roman era, as the Romans had an aqueduct that started in Trevi and flowed all the way to Rome. However, excavations in nearby caves have shown that human have lived in the Trevi region all that way to the early iron age, at least.

The conclusion of our tour was, of course, a trip to the top of the tower, to take in the view.

The valley as it heads up into the mountains:

The valley as it heads down to the plains and the coast:

By this point the afternoon was wearing on, so we headed to one more site before the parish mass that evening. A common practice in former days was to establish roadside shrines so that travellers would have a place to stop and rest. We visited one such shrine, and took in the frescos decorating it:

As much as I liked this visit, I must admit I was anxious to get back to the parish church for mass. I wish I could say it was because I’m particularly pious, but in all honesty it was because I was particularly nervous. You see, I was to be the presider. And yes, the mass was to be in Italian — a first for me! So we got to the sacristy early, giving me a chance to go over the mass texts so as to get the pronunciation right:

The pastor, which is also rector of a major shrine nearby (and vicar general of the diocese to boot!) showed up shortly before the mass was to start, and we had a chance to exchange a few words:

And then, it was mass!

It turns out our coming for the liturgy had also been announced in town bulletins, so the parish was quite full that evening:

While we headed to the sacristy afterwards, as is the local custom, many people came in to greet us. We had to change quickly, mind you, because we had also been invited to visit with the local confraternity (a kind of local charity often found in parishes throughout Italy).

The confraternity members described their work and gave us some of their literature. It was a real treat to visit with them.

Can you believe this was all in just one day? And yes, we were beat by the end of it. This fatigue wasn’t just physical, but mental, as no one we met from the town (apart from Marco himself) spoke any English. It was a great chance for me to practice, but by the end of the day my brain couldn’t process it anymore! Marco very graciously drove us back to the B&B where we were staying, and after a final meeting with a parishioner and a couple of sisters Father Stephen and I started to share on the amazing experience we had just lived. We hit the hay early, because this was just day 1 of our two-day adventure…

The pallium trip, summarized

It has been a while since I wrote a true blog post. Blame it on confirmation season: I was busy enough with my usual work, and when the post-Easter schedule of confirmation celebrations took off, that was it (although Twitter and Facebook updates did continue). Please don’t misunderstand, I absolutely loved doing confirmations, but it did eat into the personal time required for this sort of writing.

In order to get back into the swing of things, I thought I might write a summary of the visit of the College of Consultors to Rome for the pallium ceremony on June 29. Of course, you may be wonder what the heck a pallium might be. This Wikipedia article does a pretty good job of covering the subject. In short, it is a special badge of office for a newly-appointed metropolitan archbishop, who goes to Rome to receive it during the mass of Saints Peter and Paul (June 29). Quebec had three bishops receiving the pallium this year, including my own archbishop, Christian Lépine. Each diocese used the occasion to invite others to come as part of a delegation, and I was part of the Montreal delegation.

We left on June 25 in the evening. As I have been doing a lot of travelling lately I went ahead and got a new credit card that gives access to certain travel benefits, such as priority check-in and free access to the airport lounge. They might not sound like much, but they do take some of the blah out of travelling. In particular, I managed to get a lot of work-related reading done in the lounge prior to boarding the plane, meaning I had less to do once I got the eternal city. Yes, I said work-related reading: this wasn’t yet vacation!

We got to Rome early on the 26th, and grabbed a cab to the Domus Carmelitana, the pilgrim residence where some members of the delegation (including those from the College of Consultors) were staying. The Domus is very comfortable, with a lovely terrassee, a decent breakfast, and (very important) air conditioning! The best part, though, was the service: both friendly and competent, an excellent combination. However, there were a few downsides: no lunch, no supper, and no chapel! We therefore set up a time for us to celebrate mass at the nearby Canadian College, and scoped out a few places for meals. In the end we wound up eating in the Borgo Pio almost every night, followed by a tasty gelato…

June 27 was a day of exploration, the calm before the storm you might say. As it turns out another member of our delegation was going in roughly the same direction as I was, so we turned it into a several-hour exploration of the old quarter of Rome. He had studied in Rome many years ago, so while he was acting as my tour guide it was also a bit of a trip down memory lane as well (we even visited the very same classroom he once studied in at the Gregorian University). On the way back we passed by the Trevi fountain, which I wanted to see in particular because my titular diocese is Trevi nel Lazio, i.e. it shares the same name.

June 28 was the day I completed my set of purple episcopal garb. Yes, my friends, I got a biretta. Pricey little things, they are, and a bit of a pain to fold up once they have been opened… That evening there was a special reception put on by the Délégation du Québec in honour of the three archbishops. It was very nice, and I had a chance to run into some Canadians living in Rome whom I had not seen in a long time.

June 29 was the big day, of course. I had to be at Saint Peter’s by 8:30 am, which means I left the Domus around 8, fully dressed in purple cassock, rochet, mozetta, and skullcap. Oh, and the biretta was also along for the ride. Did I mention that it was EXTREMELY hot in Rome that day? Even at 8 in the morning I was roasting. It didn’t help that I had absolutely NO CLUE where I was going. Yes, I knew where Saint Peter’s was (kinda hard to miss in Rome) but it is a big complex. Happily, I spotted two young priests in cassock and surplice walking with purpose of the right direction, so I figured I’d just follow them. When we got to the piazza in front of the basilica I asked them if they could point me to the door I was supposed to use (different groups of people were using different entrances), and thanks to them I was able to march past a few saluting Swiss Guards to find my way about three or four rows from the front. I wound up sitting next to (and having a great chat with) Bishop Peter Elliot of Australia, who literally wrote the book on being a master of ceremonies for the modern roman rite. He had his biretta too, and clearly wasn’t afraid to use it :-) I kept my eyes on him to know when I was supposed to put it on, and when to take it off…

As for the mass itself, the best word to describe it is “majestic”. The Pope seemed in good form, albeit a bit tired (this ceremony comes at the end of the pastoral year in Rome, so that makes sense). The homily was in Italian, but a translation in English can be found on the Vatican web site.
After the ceremony I changed into my black-and-red cassock for an official reception hosted by the Canadian College, which was thoroughly enjoyable. The evening was another official reception, this time at the residence of the Canadian Ambassador to the Holy See. At both events I had a chance to connect with Canadians living and working in Rome, all of whom have been unfailingly welcoming and gracious to our little band of pilgrims.

The morning of June 30 the various pallium delegations had a private audience with Pope Benedict. Don’t be fooled by the word “private”, mind you — there were several hundred people in the Paul VI hall. Placed (relatively) up front, I had a chance to chat with many brother bishops from around the world: Lagos, Davao, Brisbane, Philadelphia, Denver, and so on. I did not get a chance to meet the Pope personally, but that should come in September when I return for the course for recently ordained bishops.

And then, suddenly, it was July! Sunday mass was celebrated at Trinita dei Monti, the French church run by the Fraternité monastique de Jérusalem (who also have a house in Montreal). We had a tour first, and it is quite an amazing place — it was a major centre of scientific discovery in its day, demonstrating that faith and science really can go together, especially in the Catholic tradition. The rest of the day we spend walking around (I had a chance to visit the Pantheon, as well as pray before the tombs of Saint Catherine of Siena and Blessed Fra’ Angelico). After catching up with a friend now living in Rome, the rest of the evening was quiet, as the nation mourned its terrible loss to Spain.

July 2 was the last event for the Montreal delegation. We got up early and set our for Saint Peter’s, where Archbishop Lépine presided mass at the tomb of Saint Peter himself. It was very moving to know the faith we were celebrating together was in perfect continuity with the faith for which Peter, the Rock, was martyred.

Part of the Montreal delegation began to leave in the days that followed. Those who remained each set their own pace. As for me, July 2 was also the day I started Italian lessons at the Leonardo Da Vinci school. Now people sometimes wonder why I would enroll in classes when I am supposed to be on vacation, but I have often done that. I find that there is no better way to immerse oneself in an environment than to learn the language. With the other students you also get the chance to discover people from all over, and we slowly form a community together. The staff of the school often also offer all kinds of mundane assistance, which helps make the experience (and culture shock) that much easier.

I used part of my time in Rome during this week to get to know some of the various curial offices. In particular, I had a meeting with Cardinal Marc Ouellet, the Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops. He was once my professor, and given his new role (as well as my own) I wanted to see what advice he might have for me. I appreciated his warm welcome, and the sharing of his perspective on the role of the bishop in our post-modern world. I also had a very nice meeting with Cardinal Koch of the Pontifical Council for the Promotion of Christian Unity, as well as members of his staff. I had visited this Council back when I was Chairman of the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism, so I was glad to be back and to visit a friend I made back then who still works at the Council.

July 5 was a very special day for me, because I met up with a small delegation from my titular see, Trevi nel Lazio. There is a fellow named Marco who lives in Rome but who is originally from Trevi, who had contacted me some weeks back to interview me for the town website. When I mentioned I was coming to Rome we made sure to set a date for lunch, and he showed up with two others in tow! It turns out that, while the diocese of Treba (the original name) was suppressed back in the 11th century, the people of the village never forgot that they had once had their own bishop. After Vatican II they petitioned to have it restored as a titular see, and there have been 3 bishops since then (yours truly included). My immediate predecessor was a Polish bishop, and the town had contacted him as well and established an exchange with his diocese in Poland (people visiting him there, Poles coming to visit Trevi). This little delegation expressed great pride in their history, and invited me to come and visit for a weekend. So, I’m going! We have it set up for July 13-15.

July 6 was the day when the rest of the diocesan delegation left for Canada. We ate breakfast together and said our goodbyes, and then they jumped in a cab for the airport. As for me, I packed my bags and walked over to the Casa Paulo VI on Via della Scrofa, between the Pantheon and the Piazza Navona, which is where I am staying for the rest of my stay in Rome. I already have some new adventures planned, and will be joined soon by a brother priest for a couple of weeks of vacation. Language classes will continue as well, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the people who live at the Casa. Stay tuned for more!

How my appointment as bishop came about

Many people have been asking about my new appointment, wanting to know how long I have known, what my reaction was, etc. I’ll start with that story.

It began last Monday (the 4th of July) when I received a very special phone call. I had celebrated a funeral that morning and was just back from the cemetery, so I was relaxing a bit. The call display showed an Ottawa number, but not one that I recognized. As it happened it was Archbishop Archbishop Pedro López Quintana, the Apostolic Nuncio to Canada. He said he needed to see me urgently, so I told him I would be in Ottawa the next day in the morning.

As I hung up the phone, my heart started to race. I had heard about these sorts of calls, and what they usually meant. Could this really be happening? Was I about to be invited to become a successor to the apostles?

I had a wonderful grace that evening. I was lying in bed, having trouble falling asleep, thinking of what could very well happen the next day. I keep a rosary hanging on one of my bed posts, so I picked it up and started to pray. I felt this wonderful maternal presence with me, as if the Virgin Mary herself was taking care of one of her little ones. I slept like a baby, and woke up quite refreshed.

I drove to Ottawa early Tuesday (July 5) in the morning, making it to the Nunciature a little before 10am. The Nuncio received me quite warmly, and got to the point pretty quickly. “After much consultation, the Pope is calling you to become auxiliary bishop of Montreal. Do you accept?”

It was at this point that the Nuncio showed he’s also a man with a sense of humour: before I had a chance to respond with even a question, he added, “Of course, you are quite young, but this is a defect that time will take care of on its own.” We had a good laugh at that!

The Nuncio also challenged me to give an answer that sprung from my conscience, as (as he put it) “There are some transgressions people have a harder time forgiving.” “Well, your Grace,” I replied, “I have nothing in my priesthood that I am ashamed of, although please don’t misunderstand me, I know I’m still a sinner.” He smiled and said, “This is not a beatification. We know no one is perfect; it was simply felt that you can do this task.”

So I accepted.

In terms of the date for the announcement, the Nuncio then proposed that it be July 11, the feast of Saint Benedict (i.e. today). He offered to put it off until later if I wanted, but I knew I’d already be busting trying to keep this in — I’m good at keeping secrets for others, but not so good when it comes to myself, so the 11th it was.

Finally, the Nuncio mentioned that I had to write a letter to the Pope formally accepting my election was bishop. Knowing that letters requesting ordination are normally done by hand I offered to write it on the spot — frankly, I figured it would probably be better for me to be able to return to Montreal with as few details on my mind as possible. He found me some paper, and I took care of it right there and then.

The business of our meeting now done, we chatted a bit about the situation of the diocese of Montreal, as well as regarding the challenges facing the bishops of Canada today. We also chatted about (of all things) my blog. The Nuncio knew about it, and encouraged me to use my expertise with new media to reach out to people and try and build community. This, to be honest, is a big part of why I have started a major overhaul of my website — it was something I had been thinking of doing for a while, but it seems that now is the time!

I was already heading out by 11am, and made it back to Montreal by the early afternoon, as (after all) I still had my regular ministry to take care of! As for the rest of my week, I found myself slowly getting used to the idea of becoming a bishop — the new opportunities and challenges I would face, and perhaps some things I would need to let go. I am still getting used to it all, of course, so please pray for me!