Inside
NCR New
board members, but few new holy fools
NCR is happy to welcome two new members to the board of
directors of the National Catholic Reporter Publishing Company.
Joan F. Neal, a native of Chicago, is a graduate of that
citys Loyola University. She is president and founder of J.F. Neal &
Associates, Inc., a management consulting firm specializing in strategic
planning and organizational development for businesses and non-profit
organizations. She had previously been a career banker for many years, with an
ongoing emphasis on civic affairs, community relations and public image.
Neals community involvement has included working with United
Way; Leadership Greater Chicago (member, board of directors); Womens
Commission of Chicago Archdiocese (vice chair); Catholic Theological Union
(member, board of trustees); National Association of Urban Bankers (member,
board of directors); St. Xavier University (member, board of trustees); and
membership on Gov. Thompsons Task Force on Private Sector
Initiatives.
Her awards include the first annual Phenomenal Woman
award from Todays Chicago Black Woman; Volunteer of the Year
from United Way of Chicago; Chicago Urban Leagues Beautiful
People award; and the Archdiocesan Augustus Tolton Award.
Fr. Michael G. Ryan is pastor of St. James Cathedral,
Seattle. He studied at Romes Gregorian University and was ordained to the
priesthood in 1966.
Ryans many former assignments include serving as Newman
chaplain; membership on the Archdiocesan Commission on Sacred Music;
secretary-treasurer of National Conference of Diocesan Vocation Directors;
serving as chaplain of the Seattle Serra Club; and membership on the
Archbishops Board of Consultors. Ryan was chancellor of the archdiocese
of Seattle, 1977-1988, and vicar general of the archdiocese, 1984-1996.
It was just an innocent suggestion -- if you fancy yourself a
humor writer, send us your best stuff (NCR, March 20) -- but now the
piper must be paid. The lively response seems to say NCR is in need of
more humor. We warned readers that we couldnt respond to individual
writers -- an inspired precaution.
We wish to thank those who wrote. If we did not identify any holy
fools, this could mean they are ahead of their time.
You are reckless indeed, good sir, one writer
commented. Im not going to name names -- well, except for a few.
Faster than a Speeding Rosary, was one promising
title. Many flashes of promise failed to deliver.
Im enclosing SASE for your convenience in turning me
down, one wrote. Another complained about my lament that the gospels were
not written by an early Woody Allen. Alas, the gospels are full of
humor, this writer wrote. We just dont get the
jokes.
Another offered a parade of issues more vexing and silly
than humorous. Others did ditto. Theres the rub. Life is full of
vexing stuff. But humor is the devil to write.
Anyway, here are some samples, first from Francis Eugene Moore of
Attleboro, Mass:
If you mention a word, a place, a person or an event, the odds are
that my dad, my brother Marty or one of my cousins could tell a funny story
about it. I grew up surrounded by such stories, and quite naturally picked up
the bad habit. ... If, for example, you were to say wedding, I
would tell you about standing shoulder-to-shoulder with my tall cousins, Tom
Lynagh, Jack Hutchinson and Francis Lynagh and my brother Marty at a wedding in
Pennsylvania. If you were to sneak a look behind us you would see the reason
for the shoulder-to-shoulder. Uncle Tommy, whose wife Anna did not like him to
drink, would be hiding behind us having a shot or a beer or both. Periodically
he would peek out from behind us saying, Jesus Christ, wheres Anna?
...
And an excerpt from Fr. Tom Sullivan, now in a parish in
Jacksonville, Fla., but before that ...
... My stories go back to the 50s when I had a country
parish in Korea. Back then, we had four hours of confessions every Saturday,
and some country people feared us foreign priests like they feared God.
We had a two-step springtime ritual: Before Easter, every Catholic
had to pass a catechism quiz, then go to confession. They got a little ticket
when they passed the quiz, then theyd drop the ticket in a box as
theyd come into the confessional.
One particular lady said she put her ticket in the box. I said
Fine.
She went on, I put my son Yacobos ticket in
too.
I told her hed have to put his own in. And she said she
understood.
I heard her sins, then I realized she was confessing Yacobos
boyish sins. I told her she couldnt do that. I explained how confession
was a one-on-one meeting with God. Yacobo would have to come himself.
Again she said she understood. I gave her the usual Hail Marys for
penance. As she got up to leave she turned back to ask, The same for
Yacobo?
Fr. Timothy Gray does a satirical, early news report from
Houston:
Controversy rages over a new gospel, reputed to be written by the
Apostle John. Since the recent death of the last living apostle, his followers
have been pushing to have this gospel accepted as a Fourth Gospel
to take its place alongside the accepted three.
Not since the infamous Council of Jerusalem, when
Peter and Paul faced off, have emotions been so heated. Church figures who have
spent the ensuing decades patching up the differences between these two groups
fear a new schism.
Deaconess Angelica, the controversial leader of a group of
communities connected by courier so that her homilies are read simultaneously
in dozens of churches, stormed off a protest: This new gospel contains no
nativity story; obviously its an attempt to subvert the doctrine of the
incarnation.
There is no Mass celebrated at the Last Supper, an obvious
attack on the Eucharist, she went on. Deaconess Angelica has sent out
word: In my communities obedience will be zero.
Archdeacon Ratzinger of the popes household is rumored to be
completing a synopsis of the current three gospels that would
eliminate the differences and thus avoid confusing the simple faithful. ... It
seems certain that a new, totally different gospel would not fit into these
plans. ...
Then theres Goldie and Jim Taunt of Phoenix whose story has
one advantage: It is all true, Jim says.
Goldie and I and our now-departed mates were friends for nine
years. ...
We live in a retirement community. Im the handyman on the
street. I get to fix the leaky faucets and stuck toilets. After Gordon,
Goldies husband, and Grace, my wife, died, I stopped in to ask Goldie if
she had any plumbing that needed fixing. She said no, but one thing led to
another.
When we finally got to the deacon for the marriage paperwork, he
said, There is a six-month training period.
Six months! After all, weve got more battle experience
than you and the pastor have in your vocations put together. Goldie was married
for 48 years and I for 44.
Well see what the diocese has to say, he said.
He then asked if we would raise our children Catholic? Hell, Al, we are
both over 70. Our family tree is going to be about as long as that tree stump
in the yard.
I had to ask, he responded defensively.
The big day arrived. Our church, Corpus Christi, has a cry room
that doubles as a brides dressing room with a rest room and clothes
hangers. The groom dresses in the tool room off the sacristy. I hung my street
pants over the lawn mower handle.
When youre over 70, not much intimidates you. So when Goldie
entered the church and the organist began Here Comes the Bride, I
started to clap. The congregation chimed in. In the big church it was a long
clap.
We had a wonderful wedding. Fr. Hoorman asked if I had any
Kleenex. I got Kleenex in every pocket, I answered.
Goldie and I had selected a hotel room, on a special half-off
deal. The room they showed us had mirrors on the ceiling. When we went to claim
our room, though, the hotel had a change of heart: They couldnt give us
the mirrored ceiling room for half-price. Goldie was relieved and so was I,
because the room we got was complementary. That is the way to start a
marriage.
Now the fun began. Goldie forgot her makeup kit at her house, the
South House. We called the S.H. and told them we were coming back to pick up
the kit. When we got there, a party was in full swing.
One night on our honeymoon, Goldie felt water. She thought I was
playing a trick or, worse, had a plumbing problem. After a couple of elbows in
the ribs I got up to find water dripping from the ceiling. But there were two
beds, so we put a waste basket under the drip and moved into the other bed.
Goldie is taking the RCIA course [in preparation for joining the
church]. Since we are the oldest couple, we are sort of grandparents to the
group. Im a nonconformist Catholic, so I get a lot of private
questions.
Our priest introduced us to a new word. Saying God wanted us to be
happy, he said whenever he is counseling a couple with marriage problems, he
always asks: When was the last time you had coitus? God wants you
to have fun, was his drift. The whole class went off in search of dictionaries
to find out how to have fun.
National Catholic Reporter, June 19,
1998
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