Moving Forward in Hope and Love

When I moved to Rochester from Long Island in 1995 and joined St. Joseph’s Church, I was surprised to see women preaching at the time of the homily. My surprise soon gave way to a new way of understanding our shared responsibility for the vitality of our Catholic community, and the need to develop our talents in the service of God and each other. Like the Samaritan woman in this past Sunday’s Gospel and the man born blind this week, my faith slowly deepened and I ultimately understood myself as called to ministry.

For the past five years, as your pastoral associate, my ministry has included occasionally offering Scripture reflections at the Mass. Authorized by Bishop Emeritus Matthew Clark for lay preaching in 2009, I took this sacred privilege very seriously. My formation has included six years of study at St. Bernard’s School of Theology and Ministry, receiving a Master of Divinity, and ongoing Scripture study.

I am deeply grateful for the exchanges I have had with so many of you in dialogue with what I have shared in my reflections.  I am deeply grateful to Bishop Emeritus Clark and Father Jim Schwartz for entrusting me with this ministry.

The matter of canon law relevant to preaching at the time of the homily is currently being reviewed on a case-by-case basis by the Most Reverend Bishop Salvatore R. Matano.  My reflections at St. Joseph’s Masses have been addressed in the early part of this process.  In compliance with canon law and more recent Church documents, I will no longer be reflecting on the Scripture in the context of the Mass.

Moving forward, Bishop Matano is encouraging to me in my ministry with you. I very much appreciate words he wrote to me, “To be sure, your love for Our Lord, the Catholic faith and the Church is quite evident, and I pray you will continue to use your talents to build up the Body of Christ.”  Please join me in praying for Bishop Matano and his ministry with us, his care and concern for all so beautifully demonstrated when he was with us this past Saturday evening.

I recommit myself to using my talents to build up the Body of Christ.  I hope to refocus some of my energy and gifts on new forms of adult formation and Scripture study. And there’s my new-found love, social media! If you want to follow my ramblings on a daily basis, follow me on Twitter @cathykamp or Facebook at Cathy Kamp. Weekly, check out “Cathy’s Journal” at http://cathykamp.blogspot.com. If you have other ideas or suggestions, please be in touch.

Humbly, I seek your prayers as I reflect on what this change means for me and other lay ministers in the Catholic Church. I thank you for the gift and the joy of being your pastoral associate at St. Joseph’s. You are ever in my prayers.

Blessings,

Cathy 

Show Me the Way

Throughout my life, when I have really felt confused and unable to discern the path God has in my mind for me, my mantra in prayer has been, “show me the way.” Our Gospel question of the week asks how our dialogue with the Lord has evolved over the years, as the Samaritan woman’s dialogue with Jesus evolves in this Sunday’s Gospel (John 4: 5-42). I find my need for direction and my dialogue changes as the crosses and joys of my life change, but the mantra stays the same. This Lent, that seems particularly ironic since here at St. Joseph’s our message is that Jesus is inviting all of us to “follow me.” I hear that invitation but I must confess I am still praying, ever more fervently, “show me the way.” With our five Lenten Gospels as guideposts, I find this prayer has been percolating in my heart. Maybe it will help you to know where Jesus leads when he says, “Come, follow me.”

Jesus, I desire always to know and follow you.

When I am tempted by own deserts of despair and disappointment,

Show me the way.

When I can no longer see you transfigured before me,

Show me the way.

When the well is too deep and I cannot find my way to your life-giving waters of truth,

Show me the way.

When the light of faith eludes me,

Show me the way.

When the ones you and I love are sick,

Show me the way.

Jesus, I desire always to know and follow you.

Show me the way.

Amen.

Blessings,

Cathy

Two Great Women of Faith

Over the course of the day yesterday, I learned of the loss of two great women of faith, Mary Claire Lyons and Sister Charles, OCarm.

Mary Claire was a decades-long parishioner at St. Joseph’s. She was deeply committed to many ministries over the years but nothing more than participation in the celebration of the Eucharist and the preparation of youth for the Sacrament of Confirmation.  I was privileged to get to know Mary Claire when her beloved husband, Charlie, was in the last year of his life, about three years ago. She was very committed to honoring his wish to live and die at home. Once when I was visiting with them at home, Charlie, who was not supposed to walk on his own, tried to follow us to the door as I was leaving and took a fall. He said, “A gentleman does not sit when two women stand.” Not wanting to call 911 for fear they would take him into the hospital unnecessarily, Mary Claire called a friend to help lift him while I enlisted a certain unnamed volunteer firefighter. Together, they were able to lift him. She never stopped expressing her gratitude for that simple act of kindness and respect to Charlie’s and her wishes.

After Charlie passed, I learned first-hand what others had shared with me about Mary Claire. She had a fierce determination to do everything according to a set of standards and values all her own. She knew how she needed to grieve for Charlie and no societal norms were going to get in the way of that. I came to have the greatest admiration for how she remembered her husband in her day-to-day living in the home they had made together and where they had raised their family. May they be reunited now in their eternal home.

Last evening, I also received a call that a lifelong friend of my parents and family had gone home to God, our dear Sister Charles. She and my dad had worked together and then she took her vows as a Carmelite nun, and she worked the rest of her life in physical therapy with the aged and infirm. 

I have the most wonderful childhood memories of dining out in the best New York restaurants with her and her fellow sisters. In the 1960s and 70s the Carmelite sisters wore full habits, but that did not stop my dad from egging them on to enjoy a cocktail or two with dinner. How they would laugh! How they loved God and life! How the maître d in one particular German restaurant would roll out the red carpet every time we arrived. For a young Catholic schoolgirl, this was delicious stuff! I loved our outings with her, and the mutual affection between her and my parents knew no bounds. Even in her final years when she was not so well herself, that love poured forth at the death of my mom and again a year later when I received my Master of Divinity. She was proud of that little Catholic schoolgirl all grown up, and she no doubt was an influence on my vocation to the Church. My “prayer” this happy hour is that Sister Charles and my dad are clinking glasses in heaven.

And so the Communion of Saints grows by two. May your precious souls rest in peace, Mary Claire and Sister Charles.