The Mother Teresa of Osceola

The side altar where I often celebrate daily Mass. The statue is a copy of a miraculous statue from a shrine in Quebec.

Dear Friends and Family,

The above photo gives you a glimpse of what I see whenever I lift my eyes up as I am offering the Holy Sacrifice at 6AM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays here at St. Clement's parish. The photo doesn't do Our Lady much justice as the statue is quite beautiful. I like very much offering the Holy Sacrifice with Her gazing down upon me, opening Her arms as if to receive the offering of Her Son and all my poor prayers, and then to pour out graces upon the world. Most Saturday mornings the first blessing of matins (in the traditional Divine Office), asks the Virgin Mary to bless us. It is always nice to ask for Her motherly blessing.

It was a beautiful Sunday here: sunny, crisp and clear. I went to the hospital in the afternoon to give some parishioners Holy Communion, and to visit with them. As usual I think I received more than I gave. There is something about being with those who are ill, or with the elderly, or with the handicapped, that helps put life in perspective. When you look at life from the perspective of those who are no longer (at least at the time) able to participate in a "normal" life, or who are preparing to meet their Lord, knowing their time in this world is at an end, or who will have throughout their life the mental ability of a little child, so many things that can seem important in this world seem to fade: what others think of us, whether or not we are "successful" in our work, studies, etc. Visiting the hospital today reminded me of the visits I used to make, while an undergrad at Notre Dame, to the one they called the "Mother Teresa of Osceola."

Osceola is a tiny town in Indiana, not far from Notre Dame. A group of us students used to drive out there on Saturday mornings to assist this good lady: Dolly Donahue. Dolly passed from this life a few days ago, after having lived her earthly pilgrimage extremely well. Married relatively young, she was sadly abandoned by her husband some years later while her children were still relatively young. Faithful to her marriage vows she dedicated herself to raising her children, and then--I don't recall the details of just how--she at some point welcomed some children in need, or perhaps it was a handicapped person, or perhaps it was an elderly person with nowhere to go, under her roof and cared for them.

This led to another knock on the door, and then another. For the next 40 years of her life she would have between 15 - 25 people living under her roof: abandoned children, the elderly, special needs children, convicts who had just gotten out of prison, the homeless, and so on. She received no funding from the government, and much of those 40 years was the only "caregiver" living there. Caring for 15 - 25 people whom she knew might (at least some of them) try to steel from her, or who might get into squabbles with each other, or who had significant needs, such as the wonderful down syndrome young woman who needed her diaper changed regularly, or troubled teenagers, and many, many other special needs, largely all on her own...

Since people would give her donations of clothing, not all of which she needed for her guests, she would constantly iron the clothing and box it up to be sent to the Missions. She also maintained a large garden in the back (by large I mean perhaps an acre), with vegetables and flowers. She would dry the flowers and hang them, and would can vegetables and fruits.

When we would show up on Saturdays to help out with the children or with some work in the yard I invariably would find her peaceful and smiling--even if she would also speak frankly about some of the problems she was currently facing with this or that guest. She would do so with some laughter and smile and then would continue calmly with her work, or with disciplining whoever needed to be disciplined, etc. I don't think I ever saw her "in a rush." I once asked her, as I was trying to get more organized in my own work, "How do you organize your work so that you get so much done each day?" She laughed and said, "The only thing that gets done around here is the day!" And yet, it seemed semi-miraculous how much got done, and more importantly how much charity and faith there was in that home.

I'm not sure how much sleep she got but I know she would rise early each morning to pray before others were up. And since it was impossible for her to take all those guests out for a Sunday Mass, or for her to leave them in the house while she went, Fr. Edward O'Connor would come each Saturday evening to celebrate Mass in the home. I think Dolly left the home perhaps once a year for 2 - 3 days of retreat. Beyond that it was where she lived, worked, and prayed 24/7.

I'm sure Dolly would ask you to pray for the repose of her soul--and so I would invite you to do so and will do so myself. Yet she is one person who I think has a very good chance of already being in Heaven. May the Lord grant us some share of the charity, faith, and boundless trust in Him that this good lady had.

In Corde Mariae,
Fr. Anthony Pillari

Life in a Cassock

My First Attempt at a "Selfie"--my attempt to get a photo of myself in cassock before writing this blog post.
 Looks a bit goofy to me. Then again, it is my face so looking goofy might be inevitable!

Dear Family and Friends,

I hope this post finds you well. It is a gorgeous Sunday afternoon here in Ottawa--70 degrees, blue skies and sunny. As I write this post my mom is in Boston preparing to run in tomorrow's Boston Marathon. Will be praying for you Mom!

Some of you had asked me about "life in a cassock" since I had worn a religious habit for the past 20 years. What would it be like to wear a cassock? Would people react differently on the streets, etc. than they did when I was wearing a religious habit?

It has been striking how much more quickly people now recognize me as a priest. Already the religious habit allowed many people to recognize me as a Catholic brother or priest--though in the words of Brother Mikael, "When people see me wearing this [religious habit] they think I'm going to a Renaissance Festival." Many non-Catholics, and even many Catholics, don't seem to know just what a religious habit means or signifies.  I still remember some years ago returning to the University of Notre Dame, wearing of course a full habit with a very visible rosary hanging from the belt, and asking at the reception desk of a student building where the chapel was. The employee kindly walked me down a hallway and opened a door to.... an empty room with a large square design on one wall. I looked at him in bewilderment and then he said, "Oh, you wanted the Catholic chapel."

In the cassock though--from gas stations to airports, to people at the check-out line of a supermarket, to people on the street--almost everyone seems to know that I'm a priest. I have certainly noticed a significant increase in the number of people who address me as Father. For example, the other day in a supermarket a clerk came up to offer to help and said "Father, I presume?" and then proceeded to tell me that she was no longer practicing but had been brought up Catholic, etc. Or yesterday in a Subway sandwich place someone (who I think was not Catholic), recognized me as a priest and struck up a conversation. Or another mother, on a plane, asked me to bless her infant child who was a bit sick; or a security personnel worker asked me to bless her, etc. etc. etc.

A few days ago I was walking in the neighborhood and a man spotted me and said "Father, I had to be away from Mass for several weeks, could I go to Confession with you right now?" So while walking along the sidewalk the man made his Confession and was absolved.

Of course not everyone is happy to see a priest. While walking in Rome one evening a man came up to me a bit upset to say "Now why do you dress differently from everyone else? Aren't you just trying to call attention to yourself? Priests should be humble and normal, dressing like everyone else." I tried to explain to him that it was precisely (among other reasons), in order to be visible to everyone as different from them in the sense that I was a priest and anyone could come up to me to ask for prayers or help. He didn't agree and eventually walked off, but even that conversation--which perhaps planted a seed in his heart--would not have happened without being "visibly different" due to the cassock.

The fact of wearing a cassock instead of a "clergy suit" (roman collar, black shirt, black pants), as far as I can tell doesn't phase the general public. They just think I'm a bit more dressed up than usual.

And it's true that I am a bit more dressed up, but feel very comfortable and relaxed in the cassock. While it is more formal looking than a religious habit, the fact that it is black wool also makes it very practical in the sense that dirt doesn't show as easily, etc. This came in handy today when sitting on the back patio of a "vocational discernment house" after lunch. The young ladies in the photo below are discerning possible religious vocations and invited me over for lunch and discussion.

It was a very nice meal and discussion. Please pray for them! But I mention this because (though it turned out the patio chair was quite clean), I would have felt quite comfortable sitting on a rock or even the ground in the black cassock. Black is a very practical color!

More profoundly the cassock reflects the deep tradition in the Church of the priest visibly manifesting--to others and also to himself as a sort of constant reminder--that he is set apart from the ways of the world. He is called to be "in the world but not of the world." Given our society today this witness is needed more than ever. And the cassock gives that witness in a striking way.

In sum, I would say that the cassock has felt quite a natural transition from the religious habit, and one that highlights the priestly character. May God bless those of you who so generously provided me with these initial cassocks. May God reward you!

In Corde Mariae,
Fr. Anthony Pillari

Snow and Montreal

Our Lady outside the front door of my rectory--in April!

Dear Friends and Family,

I write you on a gorgeous Sunday morning where the sun is shining, the sky is blue, there is snow on the ground, and it is a comfortable 26 degrees outside. On Wednesday I was treated to a six inch snowfall--not quite what I was used to in Texas!

The next day we drove to Montreal to spend the afternoon with FSSP priests from several houses in Canada. While there I began to learn more about the Catholic history of Quebec. It's rather impressive. There are a number of impressive saints who lived and died here at the beginning of Quebec. Also saints that we're familiar with such as Kateri Tekakwitha, who lived in this area and is buried near Montreal. It was hard to keep up with all the miraculous statues, mystics, and miraculous events that the fathers were telling me about.

For example, (don't quote me on the details as I'm probably not recounting them accurately), Montreal itself was founded due to some visions and miraculous events. It sounds like an initial apparition lead to some of the initial settlers. Then there was a miraculous preservation from flooding.  In one of the early years of its founding--I think the first year--the river began to flood and so the head of the colony climbed onto the highest hill in what is now the town, and planted a cross on it's summit. Then the waters receded. That's why to this day there is a large cross at the summit of this hill. Then later another apparition led, if I remember correctly, to a key group of religious--Fr. Olier's community, coming to Montreal.

Then there is the famous shrine to St. Anne near Quebec city. I can't remember if it is a miraculous statue of St. Anne, or graces that come from a first class relic of her, or what the case is, but it's a place known for many miracles. Then of course there is the shrine to St. Joseph, and St. André who promoted and built it, and so many miracles, and many other places and shrines. Quite impressive! The priests invited me to spend some days in Montreal or Quebec City and visit the shrines there. Sounds quite appealing. We'll see if I can get far enough in my studies to be able to take 2 - 3 days to do so.

Speaking of studies, civil law courses began this week and are intense! Though I must say also quite interesting. So, except for Thursday in Montreal, I spent the week almost living in the library at St. Paul's, alternating between canon law and civil law. Though intense, it was a good week of studies. That will likely be my rhythm the next few weeks: from 8AM through the evening studying in the library. (with breaks though some days for jogging, and every day for time in the University chapel to pray).

Speaking of rhythms, I need to get into the Confessional. Happy Good Shepherd Sunday!

In Corde Mariae,
Fr. Anthony Pillari

Divine Mercy Sunday

Pulpit Prepared for Divine Mercy

Dear Friends and Family,

Happy Divine Mercy Sunday! It is such a wonderful, wonderful day with so many graces! Am praying that Jesus grant each one of you the peace and joy that only He can give, along with all the particular graces you may need. Well, there is so much that could be said on this day that the challenge will be keeping this post from getting too long... so I'll try to focus on just a few concrete things from today.

Was a blessed day here that began around 5AM. (I was of course thinking of you all in Texas from that time on, of all the preparations that would be going on at the Mission, etc. and was praying for you). I unlocked the church and had some quiet time alone with the Lord, among other things some time to pray in front of the Divine Mercy image you see above, which the pastor had set up the night before. There is something special about having a whole church, especially a beautiful old church, all to yourself with only the sanctuary lamp, and the votive lamps near St. Joseph and Our Lady, burning. So in the stillness of the early morning I began the day with Jesus and Mary. I then laid out my vestments for Mass, set the altar missal, etc. turned on the lights, and then took time for spiritual reading, praying Matins, Lauds, and Prime, and then heading into the Confessional.

Confessions began at 7:30AM and would go until about 11:30AM. At 8:20 I left the confessional and vested for Mass. The quiet low Mass began at 8:30--during which I had to eager altar boys, each about 7 years old, but who were still relatively new to serving. They were very reverent, so even though they made some mistakes it worked out fine, and was quite touching seeing them trying to do everything right. Then I had 5 - 10 minutes of quiet thanksgiving, and then back into the confessional... from which I would emerge to help give Communion during the 10:30AM High Mass.

The pastor preached at all the Masses today--focussing on the message and image of Divine Mercy, and also inviting everyone to the afternoon Holy Hour with the chaplet. Believe it or not though I actually had to miss the Holy Hour because of... a work of mercy.

At the High Mass---and at all the High Masses I have been to so far, there are 3 - 6 people in wheelchairs in the front row, several of whom are handicapped. For example one of these is an 18 year old young man with cerebral palsy, who joins in the chants with as much gusto as he can. This was a very nice element of the Mass. Even if his singing wasn't always quite on pitch... it added a very nice note of "becoming like a child." I later learned that the young man knows almost all the chants of the entire Church year, and knows very well the rubrics of the Mass, so much so that he points out to priests if they make a mistake. So I'll have to be on my toes!

After the High Mass there was exposition, the litany of the Sacred Heart, and benediction. Then, after greeting people, I headed to the home of the family with this young man with cerebral palsy for lunch. Due to several factors, and the location of their home, which was out in the country, lunch didn't begin until the afternoon Holy Hour was about to begin, so I had to miss the Holy Hour, but I don't think the Lord was upset with that. Spending time with the family seemed a very appropriate thing to do on Divine Mercy Sunday. It was a wonderful afternoon with them.

I just returned to the rectory a little bit ago, prayed vespers, and sat down to write you all. Of course there is so much that could be said about the message of Divine Mercy themselves: the beautiful, but challenging, visions of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory; the constant invitation from Jesus to draw near to Him, receiving His graces of forgiveness, accepting to change our lives and to strive for holiness; how many, many graces He wants to pour out through the Sacraments and in times that we come to Him for quiet prayer; the invisible presence of angels and demons, etc. etc. etc. But rather than try to give you a mini-homily on that here, especially since so many of you are very familiar with those messages, I'd simply invite those who may not be familiar to pick up the diary and read a portion of it this evening, even just a paragraph or two.

And thank you for your prayers for my studies. It was an intense, but productive, past week. So far I managed to stay on pace. The most challenging aspect of staying on pace will be some preparatory work for my thesis these next few weeks (on top of the civil and canon law courses). Civil law courses begin in earnest this Tuesday, so won't be a boring week!

May Jesus and Mary watch over you all and guide you.

In Corde Mariae,
Fr. Anthony Pillari