GUEST POST: “Father Bob’s First Day on the Job”

A priest who has a site called The Roman Caller sent a short story about when married permanent deacons are at last ordained priests.

Here is at least the beginning of the short story.  A hapless, nearly completely uninformed married deacon has been pushed into ordination because the USCCB rammed it through.

There are too many permanent deacons who could plausibly have starred in this, but Fr. Tommy would have certainly stepped in with Bp. Fatty about this guy.

Here is his first Mass in the parish.

GUEST POST….

Father Bob’s First Day on the Job

Deacon… I mean FATHER Bob walked into the sacristy. It was two minutes before the Saturday evening Mass began, the first he would celebrate at his new parish. “Father,” asked one of the servers, “what color are we supposed to vest the chalice in?” Father Bob looked stunned. Normally he would have asked his pastor, Fr. Paul, that question, but ever since the USCCB called for more married priests, the scales were finally tipped, and the inevitable slippery slope that began with lay ministers, then married deacons, had finally concluded (for now) in the married priest!
Of course those good old celibate priests of yore are still respected (for now) and are still the only ones who can become bishops (for now), but this day is Fr. Bob’s first day on the job.
“Uhhhh, well, I like purple, so let’s do purple.”
Crisis averted.
“Father,” said the server again, “I don’t actually know how to set the chalice.”
Fr. Bob looked with horror at the unassembled chalice. He also had never set the chalice before. Fr. Paul had also performed that duty at his previous church.
“Just put a host on it, and we’ll not fiddle with the veil and the purse today.”
Fr. Bob smiled warmly at the server. Fr. Paul never did that. People always used to tell him to smile more. “Today, I’m going to give a good name to the formerly permanent deacons.”
The servers and Fr. Bob prayed and then processed to the back of the church. In the narthex, his wife was waiting for him, but her arms were crossed. “Here we go again,” said the newly ordained vir probatus.
“Bob,” she said loud enough for the ushers to hear, “is it purple season again already!? I always hated that robe. Can’t you just use a simpler one?”
Bob just shrugged and said nothing, as he typically did when his wife was in a mood. “Note to self: don’t wear the vestment with the floral pattern again.”
As he processed in, Bob was sure to bless the people. He had seen the bishop bless people at several Masses before, and after all, he was finally a priest. When he tried doing the same during Fr. Paul’s Masses, the priest would elbow him and whisper for him to stop. But Fr. Paul was no longer here. It was finally Bob’s time to shine.
As he arrived in the sanctuary, Bob gave a big smooch to the altar, and went to the chair to begin the Mass. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. The Lord be with you!” The congregation responded, “and with your spirit.” Fr. Bob had waited long to finally say words he had not heard from a young priest’s mouth in so long, “Good morning, everyone!”
The parishioners chuckled a bit. Only a few said “good morning” back to the now-confused cleric. What was going on?
Fr. Bob then realized his flub. It was Saturday evening, rather than Sunday morning.
“Well, folks, times are a-changin’! First permanent deacons are becoming permanent priests and now evenings are turning into mornings. Do we not hear in the scriptures that in the Lord, the night is as bright as day?” A couple of people chuckled. Fr. Bob had recovered with ease.
Forgetting the penitential rite, Gloria, and collect Fr. Bob said, “let us be seated to hear the Word of God.” All sat down without so much as a peep. Perhaps the embarrassing introduction was penance enough.
As Fr. Bob listened to the readings, he thought about his homily. Bob would admit to himself and even to others that he was no theologian. Even having taken the classes in his deacon formation, he didn’t really understand the material, and the men were never really tested about these things. He was an electrical engineer by trade, not an academic, but, as the bishop put it, “we don’t need theologians to be permanent deacons, we need good men.”
And now he was the priest.
As he was thinking over all these things, Fr. Bob was suddenly snapped back to reality as the cantor began the Alleluia.
Bob read the Gospel as he had many times before in his ten years as a permanent deacon, and then began the homily. Over the next twenty minutes, Fr. Bob thrilled his parishioners with stories of his fishing expeditions, his son’s car breaking down, and his wife’s obsession with “couponing.” He finally ended his diatribe with a more or less theological thought, namely by telling the faithful of his parish how necessary it is to have a married priesthood.

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