On the Ordination of Fr. Sean (a pre-emptive Vita)

I wrote this several decades ago.  I'm posting it today because a) it's Fr. Sean's birthday and b) tomorrow is Father's Day.  

In the years after Bishop Dwain traveled the path of St. Brendan, and further, into the lands to the West, he settled into the place called The City of Angels and there preached the Good News by his love and by the sacraments.

It happened that a young man bearing the name of the great saint and Apostle, Andrew, heard this Gospel and followed the Bishop in his journey to Christ. This young man, also called Sean, studied, read and learned the way of the Church from the Bishop for many years. In this manner, he became a deacon. And it came to pass that the Bishop and the people, moved by the Spirit, raised their voice and made motions to lay hands upon Sean, and anoint him, and make him a priest.

As a deacon and assistant to the Bishop, Sean knew what it meant to be priest. It meant hearing the sins of others and offering the forgiveness of God. It meant offering advice, counsel and admonishment to the flock. It meant offering the Mass to God and the Sacraments to the people. It meant being a father to many, when his own faults barely allowed for him to care for himself.

Thus, Sean fled.

He stepped in his car and drove, knowing not where or why, that he might escape this calling. He knew his Celtic history. Was it not the case that the St. Martins were always made Bishops, that the St. Anthonys were bombarded with visitors in the desert and that the St. Kevins were dragged, kicking and screaming, to minister to the people? He fled the City of Angels and traveled towards the place of St. Diego.

And so it was that he came upon a cat, dead in the road. Sean normally avoided cats, especially dead ones. They were haughty creatures with proud tails and a holier-than-thou bearing which reminded him entirely too much of himself. Dead cats which reminded him of himself were particularly disturbing. However, this one caught his attention. As he passed, he noticed that the cat had a curious, cross-shaped marking in his fur. He, feeling a strange compunction, knelt and made the sign of the cross over the cat.

Which opened its eyes.

And then its mouth.

And then spoke.

As it is not too often that cats speak to him, Sean listened to what it said. "Sorry I fell asleep. I thought you were never going to come."

"I thought you were dead."

"No. What you thought was rigor mortis was just arthritis. I'm pretty old. Listen, next time you run from the Lord, run a little faster so I dont have to wait so long."

"OK."

"Good. Well. I guess I should get to the message."

At that point, the cat pulled out a mouth tuner and a wide-brimmed, striped hat. He played a note and sang:

What makes you think you can run from the Lord?

Balaam came close to losing his head.

Jonah thought for sure he was dead.

God appreciates people obeying his Word.

But you are a fortunate one, at that.

Balaam was saved by his ass.

Jonah's whale puked him on the grass.

Lucky you gets to talk to a cat!

Then the cat moved to walk away. Sean called out, "That's it?"

"Yes. What did you expect? A sonnet?"

"I don't know. It didn't even rhyme very well. And was that supposed to be a tune?"

"Excuse me, I'm a cat. I didn't get to go to music school or poetry class. Why not move past the form to the message there, buddy." And with that, the cat left.

Sean continued to walk, not back towards his priesthood, but not in the opposite direction either. Just, aimlessly. And thus, he came to a Wal Mart parking lot. The lot was, curiously, empty. It was late, and this was the day the floors were waxed. Sean ambled around the parking lot in ever wider circles until behind him shown a brilliant blue light!

He turned and saw a woman dressed in a blue, polyester one piece with a big heart embroidered on the left pocket. She had large glasses, the kind that would make Elton John envious, and what could only be called blue hair. She shimmered in azure waves while the unmistakable sound of Dino playing Amazing Grace filled the air.

"Sean, Im your mother."

"Mary?"

"Sure, I'm Mary! Whodja expect? Lady Di?"

"But, but, aren't you supposed to speak in Aztec or French, or at least Hebrew? Or visit with one of the common people?"

"Your're in a Wal Mart parking lot. I think that qualifies for common. And I always speak in a way that you can understand. Besides, honey, how much more Jewish could I get? Am I right?"

"I suppose you came to tell me to go back, huh?"

"I always knew you were such a smart boy! But tell me, sweetie, why don't you want to go back?"

"Well, what if I'm not any good? What if I mess up? Its a lot of responsibility. I just don't think I ..."

"Sean, hun, now listen to me. Its not about you, is it? You know that and I know that. My boy will give you what you need. Besides, he adopted you, didn't he? He helped that good boy, Dwain, teach you right. He fed you with Himself. He was born, died and rose all for you, because He loves you.

"I'm so proud of him. I'm proud of you too, Sean. But don't you think it is time to give a little back to my Boy? He wants you to take care of His children. I don't want to hear any more about how you can't do it or don't want to do it. You turn yourself around right now, young man, quit your whining and get to work! There is too much to do."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That's my boy! Now give you mother a kiss. [smooch!] You don't hesitate to call if you need anything and make sure to come visit me often. I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

So Sean made the long pilgrimage back to the Bishop's house. When he arrived the Bishop said, "I was wondering when you would get here. Are you ready now?" And he laid his hands on Sean's head, and the people agreed, and all there, and a million saints and angels lifted up the deacon before the Lord, and he became a priest. Sean became Fr. Sean.