Unexpected Encounter in a Graveyard

The three Kings coming to adore the Child Jesus (one hidden behind an angel), in my chapel.

The King of Kings, whom I just spent some minutes adoring in silence, after returning from the day's apostolate, before writing this blog post.

Dear Friends and Family,

There were many joys this past week: a visit to a young family where I heard Christmas carols played on a coronet and had children showing me their trains and model tractors, as well as asking me to read them a book on St. Thomas Aquinas--quite a nice combination!; the joy of seeing altar boys serve reverently, the joy of seeing parishioners get to know each other more deeply, or hearing that they had joined each other in a home for a time of prayer; the joy of hearing of a 90 year-old man's years of loving care for his wife in her illness, of his joy and faith as he himself prepared for death, of his great love for the rosary; so many joys...

But I'll just pick one to share with you today--well, I suppose it's two actually, but connected to one--I've chosen a simple even that happened a few days ago.

I took a break from work in my office to pray some of the rosary and take a walk to the village graveyard.

It is a peaceful place to pray the rosary, and one that helps you remember to pray for the souls in purgatory. While there I noticed a woman who was placing flowers on some graves, and who then sat down on this bench:

Out of discretion, I didn't take her photo while she was there, but this is her bench.

She greeted me warmly and said, "I think this is the most peaceful place in the world," as she looked out over this view from her bench:

She looked to be about 75, and had a very kind smile. She explained that she took the bus in from Newquay (a town about 30 minutes away regularly), to place flowers on the graves of some people she knew who were buried there. She said she wished she could take more flowers but could only carry so many on the bus. She talked for a while about how important the cemetery was to her, about how the village was still a good, peaceful place, about changes in Newquay, about life... ...We visited for a while and then she had to go, so I walked her part of the way back to where she would meet the bus. And then the following day I visited a 92-year-old lady in the village who only has a few weeks to live...

"I hate Catholics" were some of her first words to me. She first had asked me who I was (after letting me in, in response to my ringing her doorbell). I explained I was the local priest, and knew some of her family who had asked me to come visit. "Don't think you can convert me! If you want to try to convert me I'll show you the door. If you come for a friendly visit, you can sit down at the table here and have some tea and cake." By this point, she had already seated me at her kitchen table and seemed to be bantering good-humoredly. We proceeded to spend the better part of an hour talking.

She is quite an "open book" and is known as such to many people. I don't think she would mind in the slightest me recounting what I say here about our conversation. She complained about "Catholic Confession" but then gave me a chance to explain it and seemed to listen attentively. She asked me about what happens after we die, etc. In general, I would say she asked me some of the best, direct, questions that I have ever had on a first visit. I suppose knowing you will die in a few weeks helps to go straight to the point. All the while she poured tea, offered cake, and moved about pretty well. And her mind was sharp! She kept me on my toes.

It's very interesting to speak with someone who knows they will be leaving this world in just a few weeks, and who is not afraid to look that reality in the face. It very much helps put life in perspective. I won't go more into the encounter here, other than to say that she asked me to come back for another chat. Please pray for her and for me.

But in both of these encounters there was something very peaceful and joyful--both women had a certain peace and joy that was a blessing to encounter. I thank God for these two blessings of the past week, among many, many others.

May Jesus and Mary watch over you and guide you.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

Three Kings and Frost in Cornwall

The Three Kings arrive in Cornwall

Dear Friends and Family,

Blessed Feasts of the Epiphany and of the Holy Family! As you can see above, the three kings arrived in the nativity scene in our chapel. I am very much looking forward to meeting the three kings one day in Heaven (God-willing, if I arrive there), and having a chance to fully see and understand their journey, as well as what their lives were like after adoring the newborn King. In the meantime, I find they have a lot to teach us as we begin this new year.

As I was driving home this evening I was thinking, "And what does God have in store for me in 2018?" What graces does He want to give? What are His plans for this year?" And I couldn't help but smile. For God's generosity has no limits. As our superemely good and loving Father He never looks at us and says, "I was very good to you last year, so I'm going to love you a bit less, do less for you this year." No, God always has ever better treasures in store for us. In fact He would love for us, like the Virgin Mary, to constant grow spiritually--which is to say to constantly open our souls more and more to the action of His grace, so that He might pour out more grace each moment into our souls. The Virgin Mary was not only conceived immaculate, but also grew in grace, wisdom, and holiness each moment of Her life. So Her soul was each moment more deeply united to God in charity, etc.... great mysteries which it's hard to express in words.

At any rate, this means for us, and concretely for myself--I was thinking while driving home tonight--that God wishes for this year to be even better than any previous year. So I was thinking about some of the beautiful moments with God that have taken place these past 42 years, some of the wonderful gifts and treasures that He has mercifully blessed me with. I have so very much to be thankful for. And yet this year God wishes to give something even better. I don't know what that is. It may well be gifts that will be hidden in faith, so that I won't perceive them at all, but I am sure that He wishes to give them.

It is wonderful to look at this next year in this way, through the eyes of faith, to catch a glimpse of the year ahead, in faith, as it truly is, or at least as God desires it to be, if I will only cooperate with Him: a year full of treasures of grace beyond anything that I have yet experienced. What a wonderful gift to look forward to!

And so, this new year begins. And the three Kings have so much to teach us. Surely, before the appearance of the star, they never expected the gift of coming and adoring the newborn King, and yet God had that in store and changed their lives forever. We most likely will not be asked to go on a long physical journey this year. For myself, it looks like this year will have at least a bit less traveling than last year. But God is asking each of us, if we are willing to "leave everything" interiorly, so that He can lead us, mould us, form us, according to His special plans. Whatever else this journey will involve, it will surely involve a lot of movement in terms of personal conversion--a willingness to die to myself in the aspects of my life that are not as God wants them to be, so that He can then form my life according to His will and His plans for this year.

As we begin this new year, I will be praying for each of you, asking that Jesus and Mary guide you and prepare you for whatever "great journey" God has in store for you during these next 12 months. Each of you was in my prayers especially two days ago in my First Friday Mass--as you always are on First Friday's--all of you who are my benefactors (which includes not only those who help materially but also anyone who prays or offers sacrifices for me--and hopefully all of you reading this blog at least say a prayer for me!). May God grant you to enter into the treasures of His grace that surpass anything this world can offer.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

PS Please find below some images of frost on my car here two days ago. Amazing the beautiful designs that frost can make as it forms.

Hood of car.

Car Roof

Windshield

The Primacy of Receiving from God if we are to Grow in Holiness

Nativity scene that parishioners very kindly set up in my room.

Nativity with use of flash. Notice the giraffe...

Dear Friends and Family,

Once again, Merry Christmas! It is wonderful having so many feasts to celebrate as Catholics, including this Octave of Christmas, and then the last 4 of the "12 days of Christmas," continuing until the Epiphany.

You may wonder why there is a giraffe in my nativity scene. Well, a few weeks ago the local children of the parish were asking everyone what they wanted for Christmas. When they came to me I said "a giraffe." And sure enough, when I opened their gift on Christmas morning I received a giraffe, to my great delight. And not just any giraffe, but a giraffe that was the toy of a little boy with down syndrome (and that his sister thought would make a good gift for me). As far as I can tell he doesn't miss the toy, but if need be it could also be returned to him...

In the traditional liturgical calendar today's Gospel had Simeon's prophecy of a sword piercing Our Lady's Heart. I thought some of you might appreciate seeing the sermon I gave. For all of you having a hard time falling asleep on New Year's Eve, consider this my gift to you....

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

Srm Catechism 027 – Sunday after Christmas

Virginal Integrity of Our Lady in giving birth

Sermon Notes

Luke 2:33-40
At that time, Joseph and Mary, the mother of Jesus were marvelling at the things spoken concerning Him. And Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary His mother, Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and for the rise of many in Israel, and for a sign that shall be contradicted. And your own soul a sword shall pierce, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. There was also Anna, a prophetess, daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years from her maidenhood, and by herself as a widow to eighty-four years. She never left the temple, with fastings and prayers worshipping night and day. And coming up at that very hour, she began to give praise to the Lord, and spoke of Him to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem. And when they had fulfilled all things as prescribed in the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, into their own town of Nazareth. And the Child grew and became strong. He was full of wisdom and the grace of God was upon Him.

“Your own soul a sword shall pierce, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

Even in the midst of the great joys of Her Son’s infancy, the Virgin Mary’s Immaculate Heart was already beginning to be pierced by the sword that would tear Her Heart in two during the passion and death of Her Divine Son. For a mother’s heart, it is more painful to watch a son be tortured and killed than it would be if the mother herself were tortured and killed. Our Lady’s Heart was infinitely sensitive to good and evil, and suffered—as the co-redemptrix—more than any other man or woman has ever suffered, with the exception of Jesus Himself.

But Her Heart also experienced graces and joys to a degree that no one else has ever experienced. On this Sunday the Church—in Her plan of Catechetical Sermons—invites us to consider some of those extraordinary graces and joys. One of the most extraordinary graces occurred right after Her fiat at the annunciation: the descent of God the Son into Her womb, so that at that moment She became the Mother of God. In the words of the Catechism: “… as soon as the Blessed Virgin, assenting to the words of the angel, said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word, the most sacred body of Christ was immediately formed, and to it was united a soul actually enjoying the use of reason; and thus, in the same instant of time, He was perfect God and perfect man. … furthermore… as soon as the soul of Christ was united to His body, the Divinity itself also was united with both body and soul; … [therefore] the most Holy Virgin, [is at that moment] … truly and properly called Mother of God ...”^[1]

From the moment of His conception, God Himself was fully active within the womb of the Virgin Mary. There are great mysteries here—of all that took place between Mother and Son during those 9 months—which we will never fully know in this life, but which the Catechism urges us to believe in and to adore, and which show us the tremendous respect we should have for the soul of each child in a mother’s womb, no matter how tiny. If from the first moment of Our Lord’s conception His soul was fully, perfectly, active, what takes place in the souls of tiny children, even at the earliest stages of their growth? The greatness of Our Lord’s conception sheds light on our duty to respect and defend each child’s life from the very first moment.

In addition to His miraculous conception, Our Lord had a miraculous birth, which took place without opening His Mother’s womb. In the words of the Catechism: “[He was] born of His mother without any diminution of Her maternal virginity; and as He afterwards went forth from the sepulchre while it was closed and sealed, and entered the room in which his disciples were assembled with closed doors; …after a similar …but more exalted manner, did Jesus Christ come forth from His mother’s womb, without any injury to Her maternal virginity, which, immaculate and perpetual, we celebrate with most just praises.”^[2]

Our Lady gave birth, on the holy night of Christmas, without any pain or suffering; but rather in the infinite joy of Her Divine Son. But if suffering—when accepted with love and faith—is a powerful way of praying that calls down graces from Heaven, which it certainly is, would it not have been better for the Virgin Mary to suffer in giving birth? After all, if She is the holiest one to have ever lived, and if She was willing to suffer whatever God would ask of Her, would She not have been holier, and more helpful to us, if She had offered up also these sufferings?

No. First of all because it would not have been fitting for God, as Her Son, to cause Her that particular type of suffering by His birth, for reasons of decorum that can be understood but that will not be described here. But also because holiness does not properly consist in “suffering as much as possible.” Rather it consists in “surrendering as completely as possible to God’s will in your life.” At the heart of God’s will for your life is the call to embrace the cross. As Jesus said, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. ²⁵ For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”^[3] But even more important than our acts of love for Him, than the sacrificing of our lives for Him, is His love for us, manifested above all by His sacrifice for us on the Cross and also in other ways. As St. John says very simply “We love because He first loved us.” We are called first of all, each day, to receive His love and grace. It is only by placing this first that we are then able to lay down our lives for Him.

And so God asked Mary to receive His love in a way far beyond what anyone else had ever received. And She accepted wholeheartedly. She had the tremendous joy of nine months of Him growing in Her womb, of that sweet intimacy hidden from the eyes of the world. The joy of holding in Her arms the most beautiful baby the world had ever known, of caring for Him, feeding Him, lulling Him to sleep, of having His perfect, divine love as a toddler, as a young boy, as a young man. She had the most perfect and joyful family life that has ever existed. Think for a moment of what dinner conversations must have been like between Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, how work was done among them, the tidiness of it, the absence of quarrels, their times of prayer together, no doubt with Jesus leading the prayers as He grew older, of how the feast days must have been celebrated in their home. And Mary was given the most wonderful husband who has ever lived, and a Son who fully, completely understood Her. With whom She could share anything. So many people go through life feeling that no one truly understands them, that there is no one whom they can fully speak with about their situation. In the quiet daily life of Nazareth the Virgin Mary had not only St. Joseph, but above all Her Divine Son.

All of this can lead to thoughts such as the comment I heard from a young Catholic mother—a good mother, with many young children, but who in a moment of frustration said, “Sometimes I feel like saying to Our Lady, ‘I think you had it a bit easier. After all, you only had one child, and He was perfectly obedient!’” A similar comment to St. Theresa of Avila’s, who cried out to God, “If this is how you treat your friends, it’s no wonder you have so few!”

The Virgin Mary’s life was not, taken as a whole, easier. On the contrary She had the most difficult and painful mission, the most difficult and painful life, that has ever been lived. But it is not easy for us to understand that because it is not easy for us to understand the depth of sensitivity, you could say the “infinite sensitivity” of the heart of Our Lady to the suffering of Her Son. In the Gospel today we hear of a bitter prophecy piercing Her Heart when her Son is only a few days old. But already from the moment of His conception She would have been aware—because of the prophecies of the Old Testament and the work of the Holy Ghost in Her Heart—of the suffering awaiting Her Son, and already Her soul would have been pierced by a sword.

There is not time now to examine and contemplate the sorrows of Our Lady, nor is that what is called for in this Octave of Christmas. Rather, the Church invites us to contemplate the tremendous joys and graces given to Her, so that we might realize the primacy of God’s action in our own growth in holiness. As St. John says, “We love because He first loved us.” We are called first of all to open our souls to His graces, to His presence (usually hidden and accessible only in faith), to His love. We are called each day to receive His love with gratitude. And then, on the basis of this foundation, to which we need to return again and again, we are called to lay down our lives for Him.

The Church, as a wise mother, wants to educate us in this attitude by her seasons of celebration and feasting. We are even told in obedience that we should dedicate one day a week, Sunday, to rest, to the worship of God, and to healthy recreation. The Church gives us so many other feasts to celebrate throughout the year, a key one being this Octave of Christmas, and the “12 days of Christmas” continuing until the Epiphany. Moreover God calls us to be grateful for all that He gives us, including the beautiful things in nature, family, friendships. We can so easily forget to be grateful to Him. But the more you learn to live in gratitude, the more you will see good fruits in other areas of your life, particularly of growth in the love of God. And if you find yourself with bitter crosses, and moments of anguish where you can’t seem to see any good in your life, then respond by thanking God for all the love and blessings He is giving you in that moment, but that you can’t see. Thank Him “in faith.” And you can be sure that your act of gratitude in faith will be a precious jewel in His eyes, and that He will respond by pouring out the hundredfold of His blessings into your heart and soul, in His way and in His time.

May the contemplation of the great mysteries of Christmas, of the great joys of the Virgin Mary, help you along the path of holiness, which is the path of the Cross, but also the path of a depth and fullness of joy beyond anything this world can give.

---

^[1] Catholic Church. (1852). The Catechism of the Council of Trent. (T. A. Buckley, Trans.) (pp. 42–43). London: George Routledge and Co.

^[2] Catholic Church. (1852). The Catechism of the Council of Trent. (T. A. Buckley, Trans.) (pp. 44–45). London: George Routledge and Co.

^[3] (Mt 16:24–25). New York: National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA.

Christmas Eve First Holy Communions and the Joy of Christmas

Outdoor Nativity so that the center of the town would see--thanks to your all's generous donations I was able to purchase this and the lights. Thank you!

Nativity set up by the Sisters in our chapel. You can see that their work is slightly more artistically developed than mine...

A larger view of the nativity in the chapel.

Dear Friends and Family,

I sit down to write this with a heart overflowing with joy an gratitude (and a head operating on two hours of sleep). It has been a very blessed and beautiful past 36 hours. For those of you gathered at my parents' home in Bay Village, those of you in Texas, others in Canada, Italy, and other parts of the world: you all were very much in my heart as I celebrated the three Masses of Christmas. Thank you for the gift of your friendship, for so many prayers and ways you have helped me to grow closer to the Lord, and for the many beautiful memories you have left in my heart. I was praying for you since last night, asking Jesus and Mary to grant you the peace and joy that only they can give.

The joys of this Christmas began for me on Sunday morning with the First Holy Communion of the two children I have spent the past year helping to prepare. It was such a blessing to offer that Mass and give them for the very first time the Most Holy Eucharist. The Sisters made child-sized wooden kneelers for the occasion, which were placed in the sanctuary, along with tiny wooden benches for sitting. The children followed the entire Mass from there, close to the altar and where they could also be seen (and prayed for), by the Sisters. I will share some photos below. Among many blessings of that Mass it struck me how beneficial it is for the congregation itself, and also for the priest and sisters themselves, to assist at such an occasion. At the end of the Mass I knelt between them for some time of quiet thanksgiving and then blessed rosaries for them, took a few silent photos in the chapel, and headed to the reception.

Then it was on to the Christmas Eve (Sunday) Mass in Plymouth, which was a joy as always, with the joy of hearing Confessions and advising people. Then back to Lanherne to help with a liturgical service for the Sisters, and give them a very brief sermon just for them. Then later that night it was praying matins for Christmas day, hearing Confessions, and celebrating the midnight Mass.

The midnight Mass was by candlelight only (with the exception of a few Christmas lights, for example around the nativity). The silence was impressive. You could have heard a pin drop during the quiet parts of the Mass. The Sisters singing was beautiful--with some particularly beautiful harmony for the occasion. The veneration of the Child Jesus at the end of Mass, the celebratory eating of chocolate with the congregation afterward, the presence of visitors who drove in all the way from Plymouth, as well as some visiting down from London, etc. were among the many blessings of that night.

Then this morning I sang the 8AM Mass for the sisters and two young families, then had the blessing and joy of celebrating the Christmas Day Mass in Plymouth, with the veneration of the child Jesus and the signing of some traditional British Christmas Carols. Some of you in the U.S. will have heard (at least on youtube) the carol "Once in David's Royal City" (if not, search on youtube with the Kings College Choir and you'll find a beautiful version). Our organist did a superb job in the Mass and with the carols and I was smiling ear to ear. Then I went to the home of a parishioner who has not been feeling well, to join him and his family for a celebratory Christmas Day meal, and then drove home (loaded with enough gifts of food from the congregation to survive nuclear winter), and am now typing this to you.

Please find below some photos of the First Holy Communion. No photos were taken of the midnight Mass, but it was quite beautiful.

Merry Christmas!
Fr. Pillari

Photos of Bishop

Processing out after Mass with Bishop O'Toole.

Dear Friends and Family,

A blessed Gaudete Sunday! Please find below some photos of the Mass with the Bishop and accompanying celebration. Feel free to skip the photos (these are the types of things that mothers love to see, so for the sake of my mother, I'm posting them here, but many of you may wish to skip over them....).

At the celebration after Mass.

Bishop kneeling during the Holy Mass.

Anniversary cake they very kindly made for the occasion. Off to the left, you see a glimpse of a second cake, shaped like an altar with steps leading up to it.

Bishop Preaching (note: the old altar is in this side aisle, so that's where we have Mass each Sunday).

Incensing the altar.

With Joseph, after Mass.

Bishop O'Toole talking before blessing the food. In the center is Father Hasey, our pastor, who has been a priest for over 60 years!

Decorations, and Fr. Helier (to left), who came to wish me well in spite of his very busy Sunday.

Add caption

One of many babies--baby Jacinta, whom I baptized a few months ago, and her mother Claire.

Some photos of Lanherne after yesterday's quiet Mass:

Door into the chapel.

Part of the main altar.

Time of thanksgiving after Mass (Blessed Sacrament is in tabernacle off to the right (not visible), so that the sisters can look directly at this tabernacle while they pray).

This past week was full of blessings. Today had, of course, the wonderful blessings of Masses and Confessions. In addition, I joined a young couple and their baby boy in their home for lunch. It was very good to have this time with them. Then, upon arrival back in the village at 5:30, I went down to the village's annual outdoor "Christmas carol gathering." The predominant activity seemed to be everyone milling about and visiting with each other. 

In the background, a youth band was playing some carols, while someone spoke occasionally on a microphone (with no one seeming to pay much attention to them), and occasionally people sang, while others (the local "St. Mawgan's Eccentric Gentleman's Association), served hot dogs and drinks. But people seemed happy to be mingling with each other. It was a nice atmosphere. The first thing that actually happened to me when I arrived was that a man said, "You've just arrived! Have you had any whiskey yet? No? Then come with me, I'll get you some." I couldn't tell if he was just trying to play a joke on the priest arriving in a cassock, (or get him tipsy), or in earnest. But he seemed to be trying to be courteous and was so eager as he took off into the crowd calling me to follow him, that I felt I should at least oblige him by walking with him a bit. Sure enough, he came to a few of his friends, one with a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses, and poured me one. "Here, this will do you good." They actually turned about to be a group of young guys who run a local restaurant and this was their way of being friendly to people at the evening event. I thanked and him, took a sip, and walked off to greet others (eventually pouring most of the whiskey out on the ground and returning the empty glass to the man). 

In the course of the evening, I was able to visit with a devout local Methodist and their wife, and should soon be coming by to come by their home for a meal, visited with a few other people, and got to know a few more of the Eccentric Gentlemen. By 6:30 I was back here, had some dinner, am now typing this, and will soon be praying vespers, compline, and heading to bed.

Another blessing of this past week was setting up a simple outdoor nativity and various strands of Christmas lights (all of which were obtained thanks to your generous donations--thank you!). But I will save those photos for another day.

May Jesus and Mary prepare your hearts this week--this last penitential week before Christmas--to receive all the joy that Jesus is preparing for you (the true joy that this world cannot give)., and above all to receive the Lord Himself at Christmas.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,

Fr. Pillari

A Blessed 10th Anniversary Week

Sunday morning dawns at Lanherne.

Dear Friends and Family,

I had quite a blessed anniversary week, celebrating my 10th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood. Thank you for all of you who sent prayers, or cards, or who helped me celebrate. All of this was quite unexpected! I had planned to just have some extra prayers of thanksgiving for the many beautiful graces of these past 10 years. It is truly so wonderful to be a priest!

The heart of the anniversary is hard to convey in words: thanking God in quiet prayer, or while celebrating the Mass of the Immaculate Conception (which I am blessed to do for 8 days now since at the monastery we celebrate an Octave of the Immaculate Conception). So I'll try to at least describe some other parts of this week's blessings.

This Thursday evening, after Holy Hour, some of the parishioners wanted to have a little celebration--with a baked chocolate cake and some other goodies. It was a simple but thoroughly heartwarming celebration. At one point, they wanted to take turns giving thanks for aspects of my priestly witness. The patriarch of the family--a very good man--was eager to speak up and talked about a day in which he had been particularly grateful for my priestly witness. He said: "even dealing with jetlag he carried on peacefully and humbly," and proceeded to recount the following event, which took place just about two weeks ago:

Having flown in from the States Saturday evening and had a full day of ministry Sunday, I had no troubles falling asleep Sunday evening. Monday morning I awoke to hear a bell ringing.

"Why is a bell ringing?"
"Where am I?"
"Oh, that's the sisters ringing their bell to call me. Why is that?"
"Hmm, there's light coming through the window. Uh oh... (turn and look at clock). It's 8:00 AM. Mass is supposed to be starting now..."

Hurriedly get out of bed and downstairs to apologize to the sister for still being asleep when they were all in the chapel waiting for Mass to begin. 

Then unlock the doors to let in the parishioners, who had been standing outside since 7:30 AM, probably wondering what was going on.

Go to the sacristy, still half-asleep, and prepare for Mass. Celebrate Mass, trying to get my mind to wake up sufficiently.

According to David, I carried all this out in a peaceful and humble manner. Well, if this is how I can edify the faithful, and how I will be remembered, I suppose I could do worse!

It was a wonderful evening with the parishioners. More importantly, the Holy Hour was particularly nice because at the end of it I renewed my consecration to Our Lady, offering Her once again my priesthood, to dispose of as She wishes. The consecration I first made 23 years ago, on Notre Dame's campus in 1994. In addition, I consecrated all the parishioners here and in Plymouth, and whatever God has in store for future ministry here.

The next morning it was really wonderful to offer the Mass in honor of Our Lady, with God "speaking to me" through some particular texts in the liturgy, especially the introit.

Fast forward to today....

Bishop O'Toole chose, in his very busy Advent schedule, to attend my Mass and preach, and to stay visiting with people afterward. It was humbling to have a Bishop kneeling a few feet away from me as I offered the Holy Sacrifice. I was surprised by how nervous I felt. But it was a wonderful blessing. His sermon was very good to hear--focussing above all on the Mass as the Holy Sacrifice of Calvary, thanking and encouraging the parishioners, saying some kind words about me.

It was a particular joy to introduce him to parishioners and the altar boys, to ask for his blessing after Mass, to be able to thank him publicly, and it was humbling to hear his kind words about me as a priest. Quite a blessing to have such a supportive bishop.

The parishioner's wanted to have a celebration afterward. The Mass was attended by close to 100 people (a big deal for our tiny congregation here in England), almost all of whom came to reception. Tables were carefully decorated with balloons with American flags. They even planned to sing the American national anthem, though in the end there wasn't time. However, they did find time to perform a few things--some boys did some Irish dancing, an opera singer, accompanied by a pianist, sang some beautiful songs, and... two parishioners performed a song that they had written about... me.

It was one of the more embarrassing things I have had to endure. But it did make me laugh a good deal and was touching. One strummed a guitar (to a tune I can't remember), while they sang the lyrics they had created. In the hope of making you laugh, here are some lines from the song:

First lines. Some of the history is a bit altered... artistic license?

Last line.

Fr. Hahesy, our 90-year-old pastor came over to join in the celebration, I got to speak with a lot of people, and left thoroughly exhausted but happy. The altar boys, sacristan, and our organist and cantor did great jobs and I was perhaps above all happy that it was a good visit for our Bishop. Beyond that, it was touching to receive the gratitude of so many people.

In one sense it seems to me a bit strange or awkward to have people thanking me/celebrating my priesthood in this way because for me it is such a privilege and gift to serve as a priest. I feel that I gain far more from this than anyone else. But then, I suppose that what people are celebrating is really God's gift and the graces He pours out, not myself per se, and God is indeed bountiful, wonderful, and worth celebrating, as is the priesthood.

Well, I am quite worn out from all this celebrating and need to clean a few things up here, pray a bit, and then head to bed.

Thank all of you who have made my priesthood such a joy these past 10 years. You are all in my heart, and will be so throughout the rest of this octave of the Immaculate Conception.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

PS Someone took photos of the Bishop's visit but wasn't able to email them to me just yet. I'll try to post them next week.

The Joy of Silent Adoration in the Morning

Early morning prayer in the Chapel of St. Thomas More (with flash used for photo)

This is closer to what I actually see in the early morning (no flash used for photo).

Dear Friends and Family,

A blessed first Sunday of Advent! This past week was quite full here--among other things trying to shake jet lag. These past few days I was finally able to begin rising again early and having those blessed early morning hours alone with my God. What a wonderful, wonderful joy... As I prayed and thought about what to share with you this week, these quiet early morning hours were the main thing coming to mind. But that leaves me with a bit of a challenge for a blog post because.... it is not easy to say a lot about these early morning hours. They are very simple: quiet times of adoration, alone with Jesus Himself. Silently adoring Him, talking to Him, reading some of His words from Scripture, or from other spiritual reading, etc. (fighting off distractions is also part of this time!). Perhaps the best thing I can say about this time is the fruits afterward. After giving Him these times of prayer, there is more peace, joy, hope, and so many other things in my soul. At any rate, it is a real joy to have these quiet times once again.

And it is a real joy to begin Advent: a time for penance, preparation, and hope. Though shorter than Lent, Advent is a great time to do some "house cleaning" in my own soul (and also hopefully in my room). This first Sunday of Advent began as usual for me: prayer, Confessions, Mass, breakfast with the congregation, but then it took a different turn by... the playing of Monopoly and a charity dinner. How are these two things connected? Well, today was an annual charity dinner for St. Magwan village (the village where I live). They had been after me a year ago to attend and offer a blessing. I wasn't able to attend last year but felt I should try to go this year. Hence, thanks to a kind priest filling in for me in Plymouth, I spent the afternoon at the charity dinner here. That left me with a two hour gap between breakfast and the beginning of the dinner which is where Monopoly comes in.

I had planned to play some soccer (though we'd say "football" here in England), with the altar boys this morning. However, that got switched to Monopoly which the guys are big fans of. It was a fun game--four teams of two. I had to leave when the game was just heating up, in order to make the charity dinner. I left my team in the capable hands of my teammate, a 6-year-old. I'll find out this week how things turned out.

In just a moment I will pray Compline, and then turn in for the night. This week, Friday, Dec. 8th, will be the tenth anniversary of my priestly ordination. A day on which I have so very much to give thanks for. Thank you to so many of you out there who have been a big part of me becoming a priest: first of all my good parents who raised me with so much love and taught me more than I can say, then so many of you who helped me learn to be a priest by allowing me to work with you and your children. And then those of you now who are continuing to help me learn to become a priest (hopefully a better one!), by allowing me to serve you here in England. May Our Lady, to whom I offered my priesthood at its beginning, receive it once again and dispose of it as She wishes.

Lastly, if you have an extra prayer this Sunday, please say a prayer for my bishop, Bishop Mark O'Toole. Some of the congregation in Plymouth invited him (unbeknownst to me), to come to the Mass there this Sunday to celebrate my 10th anniversary. He accepted and will be assisting at, and preaching at the Mass. May God bless him and guide him.

May Jesus and Mary watch over you and guide you.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

One constant source of entertainment at the charity dinner was people blowing up these balloons (a stack of which we were each given), and then letting them loose such that they flew across the room. Here you see this man who has just blown up his balloon and is getting ready to release it. The next picture shows you...

His balloon flying across the room.