My ministry of presence in a Catholic school

On the morning of the last day of classes before Christmas vacation, two characters greeted our students as they arrived at school: A jolly old man in red and a redeemed former grouch. Several parents rolled down their windows as they passed my usual spot on the sidewalk along Grinage Street in the car drop-off line. Laughing, they told me that their children took the guy in green for me … until they spied me dressed in black. Mind you, this was not because my “heart was two sizes too small.” On the contrary, the kids thought my heart was big enough to do that for them!                         

I couldn’t help but think back 50 years when the pastor here at St. Francis came into my classroom on the third floor to hand out our report cards. He pulled the teacher’s chair out from behind her desk and sat in it in front of the whole class. There he opened our reports, reviewed our grades, and called us forward one-by-one with comments like “All A’s, well done!” or “perhaps you should study more.” But what I remember most was that he would mis-read my name on my report card and call me someone else. So, I would stay seated. (Mind you, he wasn’t calling me forward by memory – he was reading my name in print!) I also vividly recall “Sister Danita” standing behind him – her modified veil flared out and standing on edge – mean-mugging me as she literally willed me “Rise, pick up your (report) and walk!” Once the good monsignor had moved on to the next classroom, Sister would admonish me for not stepping forward. But I stood my ground in protest that he didn’t call me by my name. Pre-teens can be bratty like that.

At present, I am actually 10 years older than the monsignor was when he called me by another name! From this distance in time, I hope I have matured and mellowed. Today, I would probably step forward – maybe even mis-pronounce his name – and make a joke of it! Admit-tedly, the pastor was surely doing his best – following the Second Vatican Council – to address the “Church in the Modern World” … a world vastly different from the one for which he had been ordained.    
                                                       
Yes, as pastor I certainly celebrate the Eucharist – the source and summit of our Catholic faith – with the students (as well as other sacraments). I meet with our administrators daily, consult on building projects and finances, and attend school board meetings. But having cut my teeth on the reforms called for by the Council, I see my role as the pastor of a Catholic school as a ministry of presence.
Alongside the Grinch, my typical day begins with getting the older students out of the car in the drop-off line. Really, it’s the best part of the day. I call it the “I love you” line with parents encouraging their children as they begin a new day and their children responding with waves and kisses and professions of love! Next, I lead the school in prayer over the intercom, tell them what’s for lunch, and announce birthdays.

Last year as I led a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, the teachers had their students follow me “á la ‘Where’s Waldo” as I followed in the footsteps of Jesus. Upon my return, it was amazing how many of them told me which place they enjoyed learning about the most. One morning as I was walking down the hall back to the rectory, a 45” first grader sidled up alongside me, looked up at his 6’1” pastor, and said: “You were in the Dead Sea!” He was filled with wonder! Fifty-six years ago, I’m certain I had no idea there was a Dead Sea or that folks floated in it covered in mud.     
                          
Last fall at our first full-blown Halloween Bazaar since the pandemic, a parishioner from a former parish was spending the day with her grandchildren who were students here at St. Francis. She remarked disappointedly to her daughter: “I can’t believe I don’t see Father Jay around here today.” No sooner had she said that and rounded the corner than another student hit the bullseye, plunging me deep into the frosty waters of the dunk tank! Other students cheered as – yet again – I renewed my baptismal commitment to this ministry of presence as the pastor of a Catholic school. And my heart grew three sizes.