May 5, 2025
Welcome, God and All...
No, that's not a typo error in the title.
In my most recent reflection, I got seriously pensive. I didn't share it to my social media page as I ultimately considered it negative from a circumstantial perspective.
Some things have changed. I won't take back what I wrote, as those words were thoughts I had at that moment in time. But some things have been made clearer. I don't feel like it's still Lent. There is hope, hope in which one can rejoice. Saint Paul wrote that hope does not disappoint, and when one recognizes this, possibilities are often within reach.
Points that I need to clarify. Yes, I have prostate cancer. Many men are 'afflicted' with it; I read somewhere once upon a time that as much as half the adult male population in the US of A have it. My father, upon learning the confirmed diagnosis from me, told me that he has it (he's almost 94 years old); and two of his uncles also had it with one of them living to the ripe age of 101. Some have no issues with it. In others, it can lead to complications which will have God send you His summons.
The diagnosis, confirmed in a PET scan, initially was vague, so I was referred to an oncologist (cancer specialist). When I went to see him, he confirmed the prostate diagnosis but said this had not spread elsewhere. Then we discussed treatment options. Hope showed her face again. Chemotherapy was set aside. So was the removal of the prostate. When I called my colleague who is the coordinator of the music ministry at one of the parishes where I serve (I had promised to give her an update in case I had to take time off), she asked if any surgical options discussed. My answer: Not unless you want a 70-year-old boy soprano in the choir, which gave us both a moment to laugh.
The path of treatment I am following is more for maintenance than for remission. The oncologist referred to this as hormone therapy, something to do with blocking testosterone which may be cancerous from exiting the prostate and affecting other organs. I receive an injection at the hospital (outpatient) every three months. Apparently to help it work or to prevent side effects, I take two oral medicines (in addition to what I'm taking for other ailments) daily. One is a highly controlled medicine that is provided through the hospital's pharmacy system and is delivered to me by courier from near downtown Chicago. That is taken almost immediately after waking up in the morning and is followed by a 2-hour fast, after which I eat and take my other morning meds. Side effects are supposedly minimal. I can't have grapefruit any more in any form. (I didn't have it all that often but would occasionally have a taste for it.) Before each injection, the oncologist will review blood tests to see if there is an improvement in my PSA levels. As with many other things in my life, I am guardedly optimistic that this will not put an end to what I do and am more or less planning accordingly.
There has been an update regarding the status of the parish merge that was supposed to happen in July. The parish faithful, after having an appeal denied by the local diocesan bishop, sent another appeal to the appropriate dicastery (read as commission or department) in Vatican City, that independent state adjacent to Rome, Italy that serves as the global headquarters for the Roman Catholic Church. Being the huge bureaucracy that is the Church (as well as its shadow, The Church, Incorporated) it was not anticipated that an answer to the appeal petition would be swift. So, how is this being dealt with? The merging parishes - for now - will remain two separate entities. However, the clerical assignment essentially will not change. The incoming pastor retains the title of pastor of the other parish and acts as parochial administrator of our parish. He cannot make substantial changes to our parish while the appeal is being processed. This doesn't mean he can't make any changes, so the title change is mostly cosmetic. What might happen versus what has to wait is up for discussion.
Add to this the passing of Pope Francis on April 21. All focus in the Vatican shifts during sede vacante (empty seat) or Interregnum (between the reigns) and only the most essential business is conducted, namely, the period of mourning and burial of Francis followed by the conclave to elect his successor, and then the formal installation of a new pope. And much like our American presidents appoint their particular Cabinet secretaries, the new pope has the ability to replace the heads of the various dicasteries as he sees fit, so a process that might take some time just got made longer. Some have indicated that our appeal may be hung up in cardinal red tape for up to a year.
And where does that leave me? Truthfully, at this point about the same place I would be if no appeal had been made. I have expressed to my colleague that my intention is still the same; and that I will serve as long as God allows. Which means, after much prayer and discernment, if my health gets the better of me, or the pastoral administrator or my colleague thanks me for my service but indicates it cannot continue, I am out. I want to be supportive but will not put up a fight to keep my position if that is the outcome.
I am concerned for the staff that now doesn't know whether their jobs are safe or for how long. I have shared some thoughts about what questions should be asked and how they might be answered. The truth is, with 56 days left under the current pastor and structure, nobody really knows, including the diocesan representative overseeing the transition process. Because Easter occurred so late this year, most parishes involved in merging or amalgamations or closure haven't begun any of the internal processes they should have started in mid-February, regardless of the filing of an appeal. There has been considerable wailing and gnashing of teeth over the last year and, sadly, more is to come. But the delay can be seen as a cause for joy. Maybe, by the time it is finally resolved, the fight will have been worth it.
Meanwhile, the world speculates and makes commentary, and the President of the US of A is caught up in it. A journalist with an ounce of responsibility would never have asked Mr. Trump who he thought should be the next pope. Of course, he would choose himself and follow that up with an AI-generated image of himself dressed as the pontiff. Not an ounce of dignity or respect seems to fill his head unless he's at the center of it all. Enough said.
And so, the saga continues. But don't worry; be happy. Worse things have happened. I really do appreciate having no shame in asking for prayer. And I consider myself blessed to have the Divine Physician on my 'team'. I'll still have my moments, but I haven't walked this path for this long and not learned from it that God indeed has the final Word on everything.
Until we meet again, may God be with you - and may the risen Lord of Justice have mercy on us all...
+the Phoenix
