The Mass was in LV3 and the celebrant was Jerome Litsecki. The crowd was quite naturally more broken into a Timothy Dolan style. No one really knew how to take this priest.
His mood was high and boyish. as his sermon explained. Seems he was returning from Rome recently, and someone offered him a ticket to return to Wisconsin via the Holy Land - all expenses paid. Not a word or gesture was lost (or forgotten) on the 11:00 a.m. Mass crowd. ; - >
He told a story about his days as an Army Reserve Chaplain. Seems he shared a room with a Jewish Rabbi, whose family would visit on a regular weekend rotation.
As Jerome would pack a weekend bag leaving for other living quarters, he had the opportunity to experience the precious, every day nexus of family life - the simple bouncing of the baby son on the Rabbi's knee, the child screaming ABBA, ABBA!!!!
The point of his sermon was one of splitting hair semantics, eg., there is Daddy (my dad) -- and then there is DADDY - ABBA ABBA!!!!! Again, this was not lost on the 11:00 a.m. crowd.
A woman poked me during Communion and whispered that he was a possible contender for Archbishop. I shook his hand on the balcony.
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I submitted a highly polished version of this story to the Milwaukee Journal recently, and described it as a prayer. It was before the last major bankruptcy hearing and before my Lenten resolution. I asked/prayed in this letter to the editiors that the Archbishop would somehow realize that then-children (not grown) children of abuse in the Archdiocese were vying for his attention and concern as the young child bouncing on the knee of the Rabbi.
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This was an extremely hot feast day in 2009.
The Mass was in LV3 and the celebrant was Jerome Litsecki. The crowd was quite naturally more broken into a Timothy Dolan style. No one really knew how to take this priest.
His mood was high and boyish. as his sermon explained. Seems he was returning from Rome recently, and someone offered him a ticket to return to Wisconsin via the Holy Land - all expenses paid. Not a word or gesture was lost (or forgotten) on the 11:00 a.m. Mass crowd. ; - >
He told a story about his days as an Army Reserve Chaplain. Seems he shared a room with a Jewish Rabbi, whose family would visit on a regular weekend rotation.
As Jerome would pack a weekend bag leaving for other living quarters, he had the opportunity to experience the precious, every day nexus of family life - the simple bouncing of the baby son on the Rabbi's knee, the child screaming ABBA, ABBA!!!!
The point of his sermon was one of splitting hair semantics, eg., there is Daddy (my dad) -- and then there is DADDY - ABBA ABBA!!!!! Again, this was not lost on the 11:00 a.m. crowd.
A woman poked me during Communion and whispered that he was a possible contender for Archbishop. I shook his hand on the balcony.
----------------
I submitted a highly polished version of this story to the Milwaukee Journal recently, and described it as a prayer. It was before the last major bankruptcy hearing and before my Lenten resolution. I asked/prayed in this letter to the editiors that the Archbishop would somehow realize that then-children (not grown) children of abuse in the Archdiocese were vying for his attention and concern as the young child bouncing on the knee of the Rabbi.
Daddy - Daddy. Do what you can to make us whole.
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