A constant battle fought by priests, teachers, parents, and many others is the question of whether or not what we’re doing is really taking root. Some professions are not afforded the blessing of being able to take a step back at the end of the day and seeing the fruits of one’s labor. Looking at a parking lot that I just finished sealing or a bed of mulch that I just laid is one of the lost loves of my earlier years. Now the satisfaction of a job well done is not often seen until much later, if at all.

That is particularly true now, as I write this column that will be printed on about a dozen bulletins which are only being sent in physical copies for posterity’s sake, and will only be read by the loyal few who actually seek out the bulletin on the website. But for those of you who find yourself here (nerds!), here are a few words of encouragement, and a challenge.
 
I know that these times are tough. People are afraid. Some people are acting irrationally and with little regard for others. It’s easy to become discouraged when you can look around at the world and be simultaneously saddened by the state of affairs and enraged by people who think it’s necessary to buy eight billion rolls of toilet paper for a few tough months. But rather than throw our frustrations onto the pile of human disappointment, we can offer this gauntlet through which we are running as a prayer and an act of trust in the Lord.

As for a challenge, there are many who are adding spiritual struggles on top of the temporal struggles we are facing with the onset of this pandemic. I know it’s frustrating to not have daily, or even weekly access to the Eucharist.
I probably don’t sufficiently appreciate the fact that I at least get to celebrate Mass privately and share it on the internet. The overwhelming majority of Catholics don’t have that solace right now. But instead of ruminating on what we are losing for a time, I challenge you to accept these restrictions in obedience, and pray for an increase in devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and the mercy of the Lord. I plan to run myself into the ground taking care of those in dire need. I will fight tooth and nail to safely bring the Eucharist and the Last Rites to the dying, and I will bend over backwards to hear your confession even while we have to find new ways to minister. That is the least I can do. I ask that you strive to drive bitterness from your heart
in order to make way for a greater love for the Lord. That is always the plan for Lent, even in such a bizarre Lent as this one.
 
I know I say “Prayers always” at the end of every column, and I always mean it. But especially now, know that even in our physical absence from one another, I am still spiritually lifting you all up in prayer, and that I love you very much.
 
Prayers always (for real),
Dad