I first wrote about my priest Mike Joly back in November of 2009 after attending my first Mass at the Parish of St. Joan of Arc where I continue to worship.
Here's an excerpt from that piece:
Fr. Mike Joly (Jo-lee), who happened to have been officially named pastor of the Church at a special service this morning, presided over the Saturday evening service and I tell ya, we may have found the Church we want to stick with. And not just because of Joly, though his presence (and presentation) was pretty powerful.
Liturgy to some can become rote, especially when read in the most rote of ways… but think of a blind priest… he can’t read it… and yes, I’m aware that after awhile, it’s all memorized anyway but this guy… he lived the liturgy… by that I mean he brought it to life… it was quite an experience… blind since he was 5 (not sure yet how he became that way), he’s been ordained since his late 20’s (he was even featured in this New York Times piece some 15 years or so ago) and so there’s no doubt that he’d done this countless times, but it was as if he was doing it for the first time that evening and I was sincerely moved by the man, by his faith, by his passion, by his love for what he was doing.
Think about it for just a second, here’s a guy who’s a blindpriest… ponder the faith that this takes… I mean… the dude’s blind… but clearly, to me and I'm sure to others, he sees... and based on that particular service, he sees so much more than the rest of us. He supplied some much needed nourishment to me yesterday, some solace and assurance that Someone is indeed in charge and in control.
The Anchoress' post was a timely reminder that in truth "the Creator, while attending his creation, provides the perfect teacher at theperfect time" and this teacher, and his blindness, very much helped me to see and "find The Word in the words".
It was genuinely cool.
Today, and hopefully well into the future, I'm going to start publishing Father Mike's weekly reflections found in the parish bulletin. Here's this week's:
Many of us were privileged as children to have the sand or dirt as our play box or play area.
Often, around the parameter would be mothers with strollers or Dunkin Doughnuts coffees or fathers in sweatshirts and baseball caps (worn front-ways, of course). There must have been a “tender of the sand” somewhere too; for, whenever the kids arrived, the surface of the sandbox, previously filled with the marks of chaos, would be smoothed over, made new and fresh. It was time to begin playing again.
We have a “circular sandbox of sin and salvation” for “big people” in today’s Gospel for the Fifth Sunday of Lent. Surrounding the parameter this time are adults with sizable stones in hand. They are ready to act on a mandate of the Law whose fulfillment (Jesus) had not yet been revealed to the executioners. The renewing and purifying power of forgiveness was not their doctrine. At the center of the sand circle are two other adults, an adulterous woman and the Fulfillment of the Law, Jesus Himself, who is all-powerful Mercy Incarnate. All are about to receive a lesson in salvation, a lesson that is not conditioned by one’s biases or leanings or allegiances or spiritual maturity.
First, those ready to stone her are addressed with salvation’s facts. It is generally accepted by biblical scholars that the inner-most sins of the people standing around the circle are what Jesus began to write in the sand with his finger. He did not point at them but drew into the dust and sand in order to identify their sins, His deep awareness of them, and His relenting mercy and patience extended to them. They were not expecting to have a one-on-one encounter with the Lord who knew them better than they knew themselves, but a profound reality check is what the Lord granted them.
Back now to the adulterous woman at the center of the circle of sand with Jesus. With the stones dropped in a scattered fashion and those who had held them slinking away, Jesus and the woman are there alone, standing on the surface which still spelled out the sins of the UNREPENTANT. Jesus awakens REPENTANCE in her, the sins of the UNREPENTANT. “Woman, has no one condemned you?” “No one Sir,” she responds. “Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin like this.”
Like the sand, all is made new and fresh through the power of the Lord’s forgiveness sought and received. As Catholics, we are blessed beyond imagination with concrete and full grace of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
The Sacraments are irreplaceable; they permit us to have one-on-one encounters with the fullness of Christ. How successful Satan appears to be these days, luring us away from the very forgiveness and mercy which restores us. But for those who stand at the center with the Lord, a new day has come.
Good stuff.
You should hear his homilies. If you're in the neighborhood, look him up and pay him a visit. Let him know I sent ya.
Often, around the parameter would be mothers with strollers or Dunkin Doughnuts coffees or fathers in sweatshirts and baseball caps (worn front-ways, of course). There must have been a “tender of the sand” somewhere too; for, whenever the kids arrived, the surface of the sandbox, previously filled with the marks of chaos, would be smoothed over, made new and fresh. It was time to begin playing again.