News Briefs

Denver Newsroom, Sep 7, 2020 / 06:01 am (CNA).- In a photo from this spring, Fr. Bobby Krueger dons a black beanie, thick grey gloves, and a jacket with a hood over his clerics.

In his gloved hands, he carries a small gold and glass monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament – which he carried on foot to every block in St. Leonard’s parish on two occasions during the coronavirus lockdowns in Berwyn, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago.

Anyone who has experienced spring in Chicago, or merely sees the photo of Fr. Krueger, knows that those could not have been balmy walks.

“When we couldn’t get to Mass, He brought Jesus to us – even in the snow and rain,” Kathy Rokosz, a St. Leonard’s parishioner, wrote in her nomination of Krueger as a “hero priest” of the pandemic.

Through Sept. 14, Mundelien Seminary is accepting nominations of “hero priests” throughout the United States who went above and beyond during the weeks when public Masses and other normal parish activities were cancelled due to the coronavirus pandemic.

These priests will be honored collectively as part of Mundelein’s 2020 In Service of One Another Catholic Humanitarian Award. “As COVID-19 has changed so much about the way we live in 2020, the Church has remained an essential source of hope, inspiration and support. Heroic priests across the country have answered the chaos of the pandemic with extraordinary creativity and resolve to continue serving as a bridge between Christ and his people,” the seminary states on their website, where nominations may be submitted. Fr. John Kartje, the rector of Mundelein, told CNA that the idea for the recognition of these priests came from a desire to focus on the good that has come from these unprecedented times.
“It just came from the realization that in the midst of the pandemic and frankly also with everything that’s been going on over the last several months, all the social unrest, we’ve certainly seen that here in Chicago… that there have been a lot of people stepping up in amazing ways,” including many priests, Kartje said. Indeed, as public Masses and gatherings closed throughout the country for weeks on end starting in mid-March, priests started getting creative. Drive-through and walk-up confessionals, parking lot Masses, livestream retreats, and teams of priests specially trained to enter ICU wards and administer the sacraments to coronavirus patients became the norm in many dioceses throughout the U.S.
Fr. Kartje said they want to recognize the extraordinary efforts of priests during these times – no matter how flashy or not their efforts seem. “Even aside from those kinds of things that often get headlines, it’s just the ways that they’ve been trying to minister to their people, however that’s possible,” he said, “whether that’s an increased number of home visits, or obviously the ways social media has made the sacraments available and accessible to people.” Kartje said one of his favorite submissions so far has been of an elderly priest who spent time visiting people outside of their windows at nursing homes, which experienced some of the strictest measures of lockdown and isolation.
“He could not only pray for them and offer their blessing from the outside, but then he could be with their families who are right outside the window beside him,” Kartje said. “You know, these are just heartbreaking cases of grown children and grandchildren, their hearts aching to go inside and be with their loved ones. And here’s an elderly priest who can provide real ministry and solace to the family, as well as providing prayer and blessing for a person who’s inside the nursing home and not able to receive visitors.” Another submission of a hero priest is Father Christopher DiTomo, who served in Elburn, Illinois during the pandemic. Besides hearing confessions outside in the elements and live-streaming Masses and prayer services, DiTomo also drove the Blessed Sacrament around his parish and held a Palm Sunday procession. “He brought Jesus to the streets of Elburn for over four hours on foot to people who were unable to attend Mass due to restrictions, and to a people who were starving for the Lord, both physically and spiritually,” Theresa Carter wrote of DiTomo in her nomination. “He brought people a glimpse of hope and peace at a very scary, uncertain time. He was all in at all times to help ensure his flock were spiritually nourished during this proverbial wandering in the desert,” she added. Kartje said that while there have been several submissions of priests in the area of Chicago, the campaign is open to submissions of priests throughout the country. Parishioners who would like to honor their priests may fill out a questionnaire located on the seminary website through Sept. 14. On Sept. 17, a small ceremony will be held at the Rector’s Classic Golf Outing in Mundelein, with a few local priests who will accept the honor on behalf of all of the nominated priests.

“The extraordinary times we’re living in obviously put a spotlight on the work these priests are doing, but as I’m sure many of your readers know, even outside of such extraordinary times, there are just thousands and thousands of good priests doing the work of the Lord,” Kartje said.  “We certainly appreciate them, and it’s humbling and an honor for us to be able to hold up some of these men’s stories in gratitude.”

[…]

CNA Staff, Sep 6, 2020 / 04:00 am (CNA).-  

In 1948, Fred Naumann was the assistant manager of a St. Louis liquor store. One night, a week before Christmas, Naumann told an employee to help unload a delivery truck. When the employee refused, Naum… […]

Washington, D.C. Newsroom, Sep 5, 2020 / 04:12 pm (CNA).- Teachers from schools in the Archdiocese of New York have filed a labor complaint, saying they were not properly involved in negotiations regarding reopening, and were not kept informed about pr… […]

Washington D.C., Sep 5, 2020 / 06:01 am (CNA).- President Donald Trump released a letter Thursday touting pro-life accomplishments in his first term and commitments for a second term—but some of these commitments linger from 2016.

In the letter,… […]

CNA Staff, Sep 5, 2020 / 04:00 am (CNA).-  

On Sept. 3, 2001, Fr. Aidan Troy set off with a group of children in the Ardoyne district of north Belfast walking to their Catholic school. To reach it, they had to pass through a Protestant area.

Troy, a Passionist priest from Dublin, had recently arrived in Northern Ireland from Rome. He was about to undergo a baptism of fire.

“We set off on Sept. 3 and they asked me to walk with them. And it was horrendous,” he recalled.

Protesters attempted to block the road leading to the school, forcing girls as young as four to run a terrifying gauntlet, with the help of the police, backed by the British Army. The children and their parents were showered with jeers and sectarian abuse, as well as stones and bottles.

The incident caught the attention of the global media and shocked observers because it occurred after the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, which many thought had ended the Troubles that had raged since the late 1960s.

“Looking back now, I think that the community living near the school — we’ll call them the unionist community — had reached a desperation point, where they felt that nobody really cared, and that there was nobody to defend their rights against their fears,” Troy told CNA.

“Their fears were very, very real: they were afraid that their houses would be attacked and taken over. There was a big shortage of housing. They had very little leadership.”

“Therefore when they ran out of options, they said, ‘The only way we can do this is that the perceived enemy is the nationalist community in Ardoyne, and they are bringing their children up and down to school. If we can disrupt that then we’re going to at least get some attention, and we may be able to do something about it.’ So they blocked the road.”

As the new local pastor, Troy had been appointed chair of the board of governors of Holy Cross Girls’ School. Tensions had flared around the school in June, before his arrival. As pupils prepared to return after the summer vacation, the priest had asked parents what they wanted to do. They told him they wished to bring their children to school via the front gate, and he agreed to lead them.  

On the second day, there were more ugly scenes. On the third, protesters threw a blast bomb — an improvised explosive device — towards the children and their parents. The children scattered in all directions while Troy held up his arms, urging parents not to panic.

Troy recalled that he was prepared to die rather than abandon the children.

“When I went back to Dublin, people used to say to me: ‘You’re mad. What in the name of God are you doing going up and down that road with those children?’ And they were throwing urine, this and that, and all sorts of terrible things. But you believed that those children were going to grow up and they were either going to know that they were as good as the next or they weren’t,” he said.

He added: “The bishop gave me a terrible tough time. He wanted me to tell the parents to bring them in through the back gate. And I said, ‘Well, if you’re telling me to do that, I’m taking the train back to Dublin tomorrow.’”

Troy feared most that if he backed down, then paramilitary groups would step in.

He said: “No one will ever know, thank God, but some of the paramilitaries might have taken it over and then it would have ended in bloodshed. And that’s what kept me walking, because I said: ‘This can be solved.’”

With the situation deteriorating, Troy realized that the two communities needed to find a communication channel. But reaching out might be regarded as an act of betrayal and, besides, it wasn’t clear who to talk to among the protesters.

Nevertheless, the priest began speaking to unionist leaders.

“And then some of the protesters were invited in, and they were terrible meetings. They were so bad, because the animosity, particularly against me as a Catholic priest, was horrendous,” he said.

“We stuck at it, and eventually, I remember handing over my mobile number to them and saying: ‘This is ridiculous. We keep meeting every two weeks. The children are suffering. You’re suffering.’”

The two sides met separately with politicians at Stormont, the Parliament Buildings in Northern Ireland. Slowly, a plan was formulated that would end the protests.

“On Nov. 23, 2001, the local community in Glenbryn had a meeting and by a very narrow majority, I believe, they agreed to suspend the action of blockade,” he said.

It would take two years to iron out the protocols enabling the girls to walk the route to school.

“Bit by bit by bit, it died down,” Troy recalled. “There was the occasional flare-up. Maybe at the beginning of the school year in September there would be a pipe bomb at the school gate. I know it sounds blasé, but that was minor in comparison to what we’d come through.”

Troy aimed throughout to ensure that no one felt that they were either a victor or a loser.

Speaking of the protesters, he said: “I had actually got to know one or two of them sort of by sight, and occasionally, just to nod to them and say hello. And one of them, his sister died very suddenly. Through the clergy I found his phone number and I called him and expressed my sympathy. Well, he didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know what to do.”

“That’s what I mean by saying, never rub salt in the wound and say: ‘This is a battle to the death till one side or the other wins.’”

“Now, I’m a football supporter. In sport, a draw’s no use. You have to win. But in reconciliation, you have to find a higher level, and that is where both sides can go on living, even though one side is right and one side is wrong.”

Only a minority of those involved in the conflict — both Catholics and Protestants — were weekly church-goers, Troy said, but nevertheless they were all shaped by Christianity.

“There was a sort of allegiance — even if it was only like a folk memory — to a higher value, which was the kingdom of God in some sense, of a church, a spiritual thing, and I could use that quite significantly,” he noted.

“When I was talking to them in the school hall, I could actually appeal to them morally. And that, I think, is a very powerful thing. It won’t always be a Christian thing. It won’t always be a very religious thing. But I do think you need to be able to lift the argument beyond where the argument started, or else it can never end.”

He added: “I found that Christianity was the platform that I used. I wore my habit every day. I never denied who I was. If they were going to kill me, they knew who they were killing.”

Today, almost 20 years on, Troy is pastor of St. Joseph’s, an English-speaking Catholic parish in Paris. He told CNA that he had been following the unrest in the United States after the killing of George Floyd in May. He was struck by both the similarities and differences to what he experienced in Belfast.

The 74-year-old priest said that between law enforcement and the government, on one side, and protesters, on the other, there needed to be a third group.

“You need within that somewhere — I don’t know who they would be, they might be religious people — somebody doing a little bit of what we were doing: talking across the divide,” he explained.

He continued: “The biggest thing of all in those situations is to keep listening and watching. And if you see a glimmer of light — it might be the most insignificant-looking thing — maybe that’s the breakthrough.”

“I don’t know enough to speak with any sort of certainty. But it breaks my heart to see what’s happening because it’s the exact same as Holy Cross in that sense: there are no winners in this.”

“Most of all, you need somebody with a prophetic voice. And oftentimes within any community there are prophets. And if we could find that, it’s extraordinary,” he observed.

Troy, who lived in the U.S. for two years in the 1980s while studying at the University of San Francisco, said that the deep historical roots of the unrest made reconciliation difficult. But he was hopeful because there was an “underlying spiritual awareness” in America.

“This is such a long-standing and such a deep issue that it is going to take a huge amount. But something has to be done to defuse the level it’s at the moment. It’s just terrible, night after night,” he said.

He recalled that peace only came to Northern Ireland after politicians dared to do “the unthinkable.” He gave the example of John Hume, the former SDLP leader who died Aug. 3, deciding to hold talks with Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams.

“That would be like asking the leaders of the protesters to talk to Donald Trump personally,” he said. “Somebody has to make a big move.”

He added: “If there’s any lesson out of Northern Ireland, it was that if everybody had stayed where they were then we would still be pouring blood down our streets, bombs would still be going off, and people would still be living in absolute misery at what was going on.”

[…]