For the love of God.

One of our associate pastors, Father G., told us an interesting story in his sermon yesterday.

A few years ago, a mother and father called and asked Father G. to visit their daughter in prison. She had left The Church, moved in with some guy, gotten into drugs and crime, and got locked up.

Father G. (who is also the Chaplain at the county prison) went to see the twenty year old girl several times, but she always refused to see him.

Soon after she was released from prison, Father received another call from her parents. She had overdosed and was close to death. They asked him to try again to reach her as she lay on her death bed.

When Father arrived at her hospital room, he was greeted by the girl's paramour. (The guy she shacked up with? There are more impolite terms I will refrain from using. You get the idea, don't you, kiddies?)

Father approached her and placed a small crucifix in her hand.

"Jesus, the Son of God, died this terrible death because he loved you so much. All he asks is that you say 'I'm sorry.'", he said.

She threw the crucifix on the floor and said "I don't want that love. I want his!"

She then pointed to the guy with whom she was playing house.

Father G.'s sermon was about God's love for us. I marveled as he broke down and shed tears as he told this story. He is an experienced priest serving his second stint in our parish and he was a missionary in Brazil for many years. He must have seen and heard many horrible things since his ordination, and yet this girl's rebellion against God still makes him cry.

Please pray for all our priests. Ask God to give them strength and perseverance in their everyday battles against Satan.

And ask God that more good men like Father G. will answer His call to the priesthood.

This particular Mass was also attended by the parish's seventh graders who are about to begin their year-long preparation for the Sacrament of Confirmation. The sixty-odd thirteen year olds were as agressively dressed down as any group I had ever seen in our church. (And that's saying quite a bit.) It looked as if almost all of them had just come from (or were going to) a playground. (One notable exception was the daughter of a casual acquaintance of mine. She is one of the most serious minded children I have ever met. For years she has told everyone she is going to be a nun or a doctor. I hope she become both.)

I could not help wondering how many of those kids would turn away from the love of God and destroy themselves like the girl in Father G.'s sermon.