The Dedalus Log

 

I went out to take some pictures in preparation for Father Alden’s last Mass at OLV and his farewell dinner. It was the first time I admitted feeling any emotions about these two events and their significance. Father Alden has been a comfortable part of the community and spiritual life at OLV for 11 years. I’m avoiding coming to grips with my feelings about his departure, and keep circling around them – literally circling. I found myself driving around taking photographs of the church and the Canoga Park community on a hot Saturday afternoon. I started in the heights of West Hills, overlooking the church, and slowly spiraled my way toward the single steeple along Topanga Canyon Boulevard. I’m clearly in denial over all this.

 

I remember when Fr. Alden arrived in 1997. He was young, enthusiastic, and bursting with energy. Alden was such a contrast to our departing pastor, whom I’d grown to love. I suppose I accepted him quickly because Fr. John had made it so clear that managing a huge multi-ethnic parish was not a job he wanted to continue. He was so relieved and excited at the prospect of escaping the rigors and stresses of the business sides of pastoral work that I could only be happy for him. John was a loving, compassionate, and saintly man, who was never cut out for the role of administrator. On the other hand, Alden looked eager and sounded confident of his ability to take on these duties. As a middle school principal with 7 years experience at the time, I was beginning to appreciate John’s desire to escape executive responsibilities; and I was a little bemused at Alden’s eagerness to grasp them. The glamour of being the leader and in command of a huge enterprise that ministers to hundreds and hundreds of people can be very heady and thrilling at first. Then the inexorable, glacially moving pressures begin to build and build. One doesn’t notice at first, but slowly, year after year, the stresses of problem-solving grow, the tensions of decision-making build, and soon your back, shoulders, neck, and chest start exhibiting the gnawing aches of physical pain. When the sensations of physical discomfort finally cross the subconscious divide into sleep, then you have reached full maturity in the fearful world of overwhelming responsibility. This occurs when one, mistakenly, comes to think that they are responsible for everything and everyone.

 

Normally, I had little to do with pastors, priests, or parish affairs. I usually kept a distance from the Church, the religious orders, and parish events. However, Kathy did not. Kathy has always had a personal and personable relationship with all things churchy – even before becoming a Catholic school teacher and principal. I think it was the guidance and influence of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet (CSJ) at Mount Saint Mary’s College that really liberated Kathy’s approach toward her faith, the Church, and its priests and sisters. With her natural enthusiasm, and charismatic personality, Kathy connected with religious people; and her intelligence and college coursework gave her insights into post-Vatican II Catholicism and the Church. With the birth of our children, she became actively involved in the parishes we joined, and the parish schools our children attended. At OLV she succumbed to the entreaties of the principal, a nun whom she knew from the Mount, and joined the faculty of the parish school as the 8^th grade teacher. She had been teaching at the school for 9 years, when Alden arrived. At first, he seemed to be a typical, young American priest: bold and self-assured in his ability to successfully direct a parish, communicate correct dogma from the pulpit, and create beautiful liturgies. However, two things immediately separated Alden from easy over-generalization: an early, personal encounter with him, and a curious comment by Bishop George.

During the first months of his assignment, Alden was meeting with each minister of the various parish programs to talk about their mission and commitment. Kathy and I had been teachers in the Baptism Formation course for 7 years, working with the parents and godparents who sought to baptize their children into the Church. As a teacher in the parish school, Kathy had already met him, but had not yet formed an opinion. I was nervous about this first contact; feeling curious about him, and apprehensive of his approval of our ministry. The encounter was progressing predictably with a discussion about the program, our curriculum and teaching strategies, when he suddenly stopped it. Turning to Kathy, he asked if everything was alright. He claimed to sense a discomfort or unease between us. It was at that point that Kathy revealed that we had just been informed of her need to have an immediate medical biopsy for possible cancer. This sudden confession of our family medical crisis, the unspoken fears about the procedure and its implications had me bewildered. Alden just listened, carefully and thoughtfully. When Kathy finished speaking, he quietly asked her if she wished to be anointed with the sacrament of healing. His prayers, anointing, and soothing words were a calming balm on both of us. We walked out of the Rectory feeling more hopeful about the biopsy, and very favorably impressed with this perceptive young priest. Alden’s first action with us had been that of a caring pastor tending the emotional and physical needs of two frightened members of his flock. This first impression was confirmed when Kathy mentioned our new pastor to her friend Bishop George, when we were talking about the new generation of “big roman-collared” American priests. George remembered Alden as a seminarian at the Camarillo campus, but he volunteered only one comment. He told us not to judge him by his youth or brashness as a manager, because Alden’s instincts and honesty as a priest of the people would surprise us.
 

Many changes occurred in the next 11 years.  The first thing I noticed was the music, and how it kept getting better and better in church. The choir, and especially the cantors, had always been a distraction for me during the masses; they were amateurish or intimidating. For the most part, I just ignored them. The music directors that Alden hired were consistently good, and the music and songs always complimented the mass and the prayers, becoming an integral part of the whole liturgy. There are moments when the music is transcendent. He also invited children to come up on the altar to watch him consecrate the Bread and Wine at the 9 o’clock Sunday mass. At first I thought it was an inspired stunt, but he made it a tradition at that mass. Once past my apprehensions of watching the children squirm, move around, and come too close to altar plants and candles, I learned to appreciate the symbolism. It also helped when I saw the look of wonder and awe in the faces of the children as they watched father lift up the consecrated Host for all to see and believe. But most of all, I appreciated his skill at the pulpit. Alden wasn’t an outstanding homilist, but he always tied his sermons to the readings, kept them short, and left you thinking. He was sometimes funny, and sometimes insightful, but he could always surprise us with an inspired message or lesson. His homilies kept the congregation listening and learning.

 

I suppose what I most admired about Alden as a pastor was his ability to maintain and then develop the cultural and ethnic diversity of the parish. We live in an ethnically segregated community, with an old and large Hispanic barrio surrounded by predominantly white enclaves. Our church was (and is) the only church in the West San Fernando Valley to serve the doctrinal, spiritual, and language needs of all of its congregation, albeit in English or Spanish. It was what first attracted me to OLV. I could look around during mass, and see the rich diversity of believers in the message of God’s Kingdom and Love. It is what won my loyalty to this parish and its school. Alden not only maintained the bilingual and Spanish religious services, but he stemmed the tide of white flight to the nearby affluent and racially homogeneous parishes. He also attracted a growing Filipino population to enroll in the school and swell the numbers of participants at mass. Another of his wiser decisions was accepting the recommendation of his search committee and selecting Kathy as the principal of the parish school. Rumor had it that he had a favored candidate in mind; and as a school administrator I was well aware of the proclivity for board members, superintendents, or parish pastors to choose their own man. Once again, Alden went against the generalized type and listened to the people he had commissioned to identify the best candidate. I had watched Kathy devote herself to the children of the school and parish as a teacher and minister for years. I had counseled her through her experiences as an assistant principal at the school, and a graduate student in the School Administration program at Mount Saint Mary’s College. I was convinced (personally and professionally) that she would make an outstanding principal, and she has.

 

Over eleven years, one gets to know their pastor in a personal way. Kathy’s relationship with Alden is very different from mine. I only knew him as my priest, confessor, and pastor. Kathy knew him as her boss. I think he was a competent manager of the parish, but I found him to be a very good pastor. In some ways he even reminded me of his predecessor, Father John. Alden had a natural tendency to be spontaneous and act out of inspiration, he accepted people for what they were, and he readily forgave them. I appreciated his confessional manner and the way he encouraged my efforts at mediation and prayer. I also learned of our shared interest in the Spanish Mystics of the 1500’s, especially St. John of the Cross. Alden seemed comfortable and satisfied with the job he was doing at OLV, so his reassignment was something of a shock to everyone in the parish. His successor would have a hard act to follow.

 

On the day of the last mass, I still hadn’t come to terms with his leaving, or why he was being reassigned to another parish. I volunteered to photograph both the liturgy and the farewell dinner, figuring that with a camera lens as a buffer, I could maintain emotional distance while coming up with an explanation. During the mass, I occupied myself with countless tasks and distractions. I was constantly changing lenses, changing positions, and moving from seat, to wall, to balcony looking for the right angle or perspective. I finally stopped during the homily; and it was then that Alden’s gospel message hit its mark with me. The sermon was on the Gospel reading from John 21: 15-19 (see above), when Jesus asks Peter (the leader of his first 12 priests) if he loves him more than these others. When Peter responds “Yes, Lord”, Jesus challenges him to “feed my lambs”, “tend my sheep”, and “feed my sheep”. He then commands Peter to follow him. Alden explained that the message of the gospel was the pastoral mission of the Church and its priests, to teach the gospel and tend the flocks of believers wherever they may be. His duty as a priest was to follow Jesus’ command, and take that mission to another parish and a new flock of people. The homily gave me the explanation I sought, but it was his final words before the blessing at the end of mass that moved me. Alden stood in front of his flock and asked each person’s forgiveness for any actions, words, or omissions that caused harm, hurts, or offense. He asked this three times, as if answering Christ’s three commands in the gospel. He ended by telling us that “because I knew you, I have been changed forever”.

 

I’ll miss Father Alden. He was a fine pastor.