Belonging

During the past few weeks I have spent as much time as my responsibilities permitted by the deathbed of my Dad. In his alert moments his humor and capacity as a great storyteller shone through. More importantly, his humble faith shone through. What a privilege it was for me to hear him renew his baptismal promises in those last days of his life, anointing him, granting him the Apostolic Pardon, commending his soul to the mercy of God, chanting the Litany of Saints, imploring the Blessed Virgin, the angels and the saints to intercede for him, and praying the Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet by his side. Most importantly, giving him the Eucharist each day during his final agony not only was a tremendous grace for him, but was a great source of consolation for me. The very last conscious act he made was receiving the Eucharist. This particular time of the liturgical year always reminds me how thin is the veil that separates heaven and earth. In these weeks we celebrate the feasts of Padre Pio, the archangels, guardian angels, Therese of Lisieux, Francis of Assisi, Bruno, Bartolo Longo, Faustina, the Holy Rosary, John Henry Newman, John XXIII, Carlo Acutis, Teresa of Avila, Margaret Mary, Luke, John Paul II, and many others. As we pass into the first days of November we celebrate All Saints and All Souls. I always have a sense in these days that heaven is not very far away at all. As I chanted the Litany of Saints at my Dad’s bedside, although deeply sorrowed that his earthly life was coming to its end, I knew that I was placing him in good company. I trust that what the Lord began in my Dad on the day of his baptism, he will bring to fulfillment now. We will place his body into the earth with faith in the Resurrection. Last Saturday before visiting my Dad, I celebrated a Nuptial Mass here. I still need to absorb the whole thing. Simultaneously, my heart was broken from sorrow for my Dad and filled with joy at the beauty of the Sacrament of Marriage and for that couple as they begin married life. After the Mass, I went to the hospital and, as I was crossing the street in Boston, this couple stopped me. “Father, are you busy?” Admittedly, I felt kind of annoyed because I wanted to get in to see my father. I smiled and said, “No.” Then they asked, “Could you bless our twins?” In their carriage were these beautiful one-month old infants, a brother and sister. It was the boy’s first time out of the NICU. I blessed them with a lot of joy. The couple explained to me that they were not married, but were trying to figure things out and to be a family. They said that they had been going to Mass recently and wanted to stay on track. Blessed be God. I thought of how 89 years ago this month, my Dad was an infant like that with his whole life ahead of him. Now, he was at the end of his life and here are these two beautiful little infants beginning their life. Their parents chose to give them life and are now trying to find a way to be a family and provide a Catholic life for them. I will pray for them. Some day, please God, those little infants will be old and will be preparing to depart from this life. I hope that they do so having lived a life of faith, nourished by the Sacraments. One of the privileges of priesthood, I believe, is that the Lord permits us at times to share in a unique way in his own Heart. This privilege is both beautiful and heart-piercing. It sometimes feels as though the Lord were putting one hundred gallons into a one gallon container! It is to feel intensely the Lord’s love for the good thief, his weeping at the grave of Lazarus, his joy at the repentant sinner, his joy for the little children, and his ardent desire that all might be saved. And quite often, the Lord does not share these things one at a time, but all at once. These days, I am feeling things intensely. I am grateful to the Lord for that privilege. Lastly, a word of thanks to all of you for your prayers and to the priests and staff of the parish whose goodness, kindness, and generosity have allowed me the privilege to be a son and a priest to my father. I am very grateful. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

October 3rd, 2026, marked the 800th anniversary of what is called, “the Transitus” of St. Francis of Assisi. It is the date upon which one of the greatest loved saints passed over from this world to the next at the age of forty-four. Francis, as depicted on the cover of this week’s bulletin, asked that his clothes be removed and that he be placed upon the floor. He wanted to depart from this world with no material possessions whatsoever. A brother then lent him a tunic so that he would not be completely uncovered. The image reminds us that all of us leave this world with no earthly possession. I remember when I was a kid, one of the priests in our parish would often say, “I have celebrated many funeral Masses as a priest. I want you to know that not one single time was the Wells Fargo Wagon following the hearse to the cemetery.” St. Francis’ life and death invites us to examine ourselves and ask, “To what am I unduly attached? To what do I cling to in such a way that it hinders me from giving myself completely to the Lord?” Is it my pride, my success, my resentments, my bitterness, my pleasures, my possessions, my desire to be esteemed or honored, my free time, my money, my bodily health, my appearance? Sometimes when we go to a wake or a funeral, we see images of the person from when they were much younger and healthier. Those images can be both joyful and sobering. They are joyful because they remind us of better and happier days. They are sobering because we are confronted with how the things of this world pass away. St. Francis asked to be placed naked and upon the floor not because he was miserable, but because he knew that all of us ultimately leave this world possessing nothing. He joyfully embraced his poverty because he knew that all of us–no matter how much we possess–are, in fact, poor. He did not store up earthly treasures because he knew that his true treasure is in heaven. Last Sunday as I was looking out my kitchen window, I saw a young couple and their two little ones coming into church in the pouring rain. They didn’t know I saw them, but their simple little witness of faithful Catholic family life really touched me. They were like God calling down from heaven and saying to me, “Be faithful in your own vocation and in your own duties.” When St. Francis lay dying 800 years ago in a place few had ever heard of, he probably could not have imagined that 800 years later, his example would still be inspiring others to follow Christ and that he would be so loved. He was just faithful to what Christ was asking of him. That is true for all of us. We just never know how our obedience to what Christ calls us to will be used by the Lord for the building up of His Kingdom. St. Francis calls all of us to fidelity. If I may add one little plug! There is still time to sign up for the Pilgrimage to the Shrines of Italy this coming April. Among other places, we will go and be with St. Francis and St. Clare in Assisi (and also St. Carlo Acutis). It is such a deeply moving and transformative place. To all of you, who in varied ways live out your faithful witness, I want to say thank you. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

A few weeks ago, before Mass, a young man in his twenties approached me and asked, “Can I sit anywhere?” The unusual question confused me for a moment, and then he added, “This is my first time here.” After Mass, he explained that he was baptized but was never raised in the Faith. Now, he was searching for a relationship with God. His story is not an isolated one. Last year at the Easter Vigil, we baptized and welcomed into the Church many men and women who were longing for closeness with the Lord. Already this year, we are preparing a whole new group of men and women–so many of them in their late teens, twenties, and thirties–to receive the Sacraments at Easter. It is incredibly exciting to witness the Holy Spirit at work in the life of our parish community. One of the great things I have come to appreciate about St. Patrick Parish is that the people here actually want new people! Sometimes parishes settle into a “We always did it this way” mentality that wants only to keep the status quo and is never looking to grow and welcome others. I see a true missionary spirit in the people here. There are so many opportunities in this parish for parishioners to deepen their Faith, but also for those who are perhaps on the peripheries of Faith to test the waters. The people here have a genuine desire to help others to experience the joy that only comes from closeness to the Lord. It brings me such great joy to see not only all of the things that are happening in this parish, but also to see how many people are responding to them. We are really blessed as a parish. If you look at the weekly parish bulletin, you will see that we have abundant opportunities to encounter the Lord and to be part of a true faith community. As a parish priest, it is really a source of deep joy to see the Lord at work and to be surprised by what He is doing. It is also my responsibility, along with the Parish Finance Council, to oversee the financial health of the parish. We are a big parish. Our buildings and grounds are in constant need of repairs, improvements, and replacements. In addition to the urgent need to replace most of our HVAC units, we still need to address ongoing issues with the frames of our stained-glass windows and do extensive work on the steeple and facade of the church’s old main entrance. Together, these projects will likely cost well over $1,000,000. All of this must be done while we continue our regular parish operations, including salaries and benefits, regular maintenance, utilities, and all our ministries. Without the added expenses of those major ticket items, our operating budget is around $ 1.5 million. We can do a lot as a parish because our parishioners are not consumers or spectators. You don’t sit back and expect others to provide for the parish's needs. You are generous with both your financial support and your time. People who are searching for a new relationship or a deeper relationship with the Lord are able to come here and be spiritually fed because of your generosity. While the parish facilities will always require our attention, I hope our focus will increasingly shift toward providing an even more robust missionary outreach to those who are not here. Jesus wants us to preach the Gospel to everyone. That is our mission. A major portion of our income arises from the Grand Annual Collection. I ask that all of you please make a generous commitment to this collection. It would be great if every registered family, if they can afford it, could donate $500 toward the Grand Annual Collection. If you can give more, all the better. If you cannot afford that much, any gift is needed and is absolutely appreciated. I have already made my contribution, so I am not asking you to do anything that I have not done myself! The Lord is doing something beautiful in this parish. Let us all do our part! Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Many years ago while living in San Diego for a happy summer of Navy Reserve duty, I attended several boot camp graduations of Sailors and Marines. Those ceremonies were filled with fanfare, exactness, and solemnity. What struck me about them in a particular way is that each week, they were exactly the same. They didn’t ask the recruits to come up with their own ceremonies. Instead, the recruits were inserted into a long, unbroken tradition experienced by every other Sailor and Marine. The greatness of the event, in a sense, was that they were being inserted into something greater than themselves. The ceremony was not the self-expression of numerous individuals. Even if you were on the sidelines watching, you nonetheless sensed that you were part of something bigger. One of the beautiful things about a Catholic Funeral Mass is that basically everybody gets the same funeral. Whether you are the pope or a pauper matters not. In that moment, you are a son or daughter of the Church and the Church is entrusting you to the mercy of God. Each of us needs the mercy of God. I think in recent years an unfortunate shift has happened to funerals. I’m not exactly sure what to call it, but for lack of a better term, it has become “individualized.” Now, of course, we are mourning and grieving over the death of a particular individual and the people who are mourning are a particular and individual family. In this way, there is something deeply personal that cannot (and should not) be dismissed. But my mind goes back to those boot camp graduations. The greatness of the moment was that the individual was now part of something greater than himself. Each graduate wore the same uniform, marched in the same direction, and performed the same rituals as all of those who preceded them and those who would follow them. The Funeral Mass is not about canonizing the deceased and declaring that they are now in Heaven. (That’s the pope’s job, not ours!) We are certainly there to thank the Lord for the life of this individual, to thank God for all the good that He worked in that individual, and to build up our Christian Hope. What exactly gives us hope in eternal life? It is that this person was inserted into something bigger than himself or herself. Their hope (and ours) is that when they were baptized, they were baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ. It is because Christ died and rose from the dead that we have any hope of eternal life. None of us can give ourselves eternal life. We depend entirely upon Christ. At the Funeral Mass, we are there primarily to pray for the one who has died. We pray–as members of Christ’s Body–that the Lord will show his mercy on the one who has died. When we lose sight of this, we are reduced to empty platitudes. Our prayers at a Funeral Mass actually do something. They assist the one who has died and, by the power of the Mass, they purify that person so as to help them on their way to the beatific vision. I mention all of this because I am struck by how secularized funerals have become. Sadly, many Catholics forgo Funeral Masses now. When faith in the absolute necessity of Christ’s Death and Resurrection dwindles, so too does faith in the power of the Mass. And of course, if a funeral is merely a “celebration of life,” why not have it at the funeral home, the reserved room at a restaurant, or the beach? What makes the Catholic Funeral so magnificent is that it is transcendent. It lifts us up beyond mere sentimentality and inserts us (and the one who has died) into the saving event of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection. On my list of things to do is to find a way to help us as a parish to plan Funeral Masses better. At present, we basically have people fill out a sheet where twenty songs are presented and they pick four or five and check off the readings they want. It’s not a good process. I think there is a better way and I hope to work toward finding it and shaping the process. On a related note, I am beyond happy that during the past couple of years there have been so many adults entering the Church through our parish. Both last year and again this year, we have had great-sized groups seeking to become Catholic, receive Baptism, Confirmation, and First Eucharist. I keep praying to the Lord asking for more! How are these related? It is through the Sacraments that we are inserted into the new life that ONLY Christ can give. When we die, the Church doesn’t tell God in its prayers for the deceased, “Hey Lord, Charlie was such a great guy.” Instead, the Church basically says, “Father, look upon your son (daughter) who because of baptism was united to your Only-Begotten Son and became a member of His body. Grant that this person, by virtue of his (her) union with Christ, may have his (her) sins cleansed, may enter into Heaven, and may share one day in the resurrection.” I guess a good thing for all of us to think about, not only when it comes time to plan a funeral, but also all the time, is the absolute centrality of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is our participation in that event that makes us Christians. It–and it alone–is what saves us and is our only hope. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Today is just a series of random thoughts: If you’ve tried to open either of the right hand doors to our main entrances recently, you may have thought that you were growing weak. Fear not. Recently, those doors have been fitted with a push button so that those who have difficulty opening the doors can have easier access. The left side of the double doors opens as usual. The other doors can be opened with a little extra pull or by pushing the handicapped button on the left side of the doors. After being pushed, there is a slight pause and then the right side door will open automatically. We pay approximately $1,000 dollars a week on electricity, $44,000 a year on heat, and $18,000 a year on water and sewer. Insurance is over $40,000, $108,000 is spent on maintenance of grounds and buildings, and just over $1,000,000 on salaries and benefits for our lay staff and clergy. If you do not do so already, please help us by making a weekly commitment to the parish by using our electronic giving program, weekly envelopes, or by setting up a recurring automatic payment from your bank. These methods of giving help us enormously. Don’t say, “I’ve got to do that sometime.” Do it today! Please. I imagine that for most people when they go to a hospital and see the sign that says, “Labor and Delivery,” they are reminded that there is at least one happy place in a hospital. Strange as it sounds, when I see that sign, a heavy feeling settles upon me. It’s because really the only time I ever visit there is when some tragic event has occurred. From the moment the call comes, during my drive there, walking down the halls, arriving at the doorway, I am filled with tremendous sorrow. And, that sorrow lingers for days after. I had such a call this past week. It is both a deeply painful responsibility and a beautiful and profound privilege to be called into such a situation. To be with the aggrieved in the worst moment of their life and to feel your utter incompetence and smallness before the enormity of their profound pain and sorrow places you really at the Mystery of the Cross itself. Even though it is among the most difficult things I encounter as a priest, I also recognize what an enormous privilege it is to be allowed by the Lord to be placed in those situations. I also recognize that when I am there, in a sense, we are all there together as a parish, offering spiritual closeness to those who mourn. Take a moment please to offer a prayer for that mother and father. Do you have children that you haven’t had baptized? Let’s get them baptized. Did you get married outside of the Church? Let’s work together to get that resolved. Are you a Catholic who has never been confirmed? Let’s get you confirmed. Are you a newcomer who is interested in becoming Catholic? Let’s make that happen. Don’t let these things sit on the backburner. We want to help you and your loved ones live the sacramental life. God wants this for you. While not all parishioners read the bulletin, it seems all the scam artists do. They often will find names, emails, and phone numbers and then contact people, pretending to be me. They will send emails or messages to people asking for money and gift cards. Please remember that I will never email or message you asking for gift cards or money! That is always a scam! For many people September is one of those times when they are motivated to make positive changes in their life. If you’ve been away from Mass for a while and somehow felt motivated to make another attempt at returning, welcome back. We are really happy that you are here. Don’t take your foot off the gas. Start building a solid habit by making an absolute commitment to attending Mass every Sunday for the next three months. This will engrain in you the habit of fidelity to the Mass. There will be challenges along the way. There will be Sundays when you feel like you can’t listen to another homily from me. There will be Sundays when you’re tired, unmotivated, or have a lot going on. Fight through it! Make a firm resolution that you will not miss Mass. You will never be sorry that you went to Mass. Never. If you happen to be that person who has been away and is trying to “get back,” I’m really happy for you. I am praying for you and want you to know that your being here is itself a sign that the Lord’s grace is at work in you. Not always, but the bulletin cover often relates either to the Sunday readings or to a feast day during the week or to something that I write about in this column. I usually don’t have space to provide much information, so I leave it to you to figure out! Today’s cover, however, is drawn from today’s Gospel parable. In the background, you see the first scene when the servant is begging the king for mercy. In the foreground is depicted the latter scene when he has been found out for showing no mercy to his fellow servant. I hope that you all have a great week. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes