Category Archives: Guardian angels

In Psalm 22, all about Jesus on the cross, we read: “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22,2). A few verses later, we read, also in the first person singular: “I am a maggot [ תוֹלַ֣עַת / σκώληξ ] and no man” (Psalm 22,6). Recently I put up a post about Jesus as the Ninja Maggot. It being that I’m really, really, really old (in my early fifties, when memories of one’s youth come flooding back!), that mention of maggots and Jesus brought up some memories of my younger days as a seminarian, when I was a total, total idiot, knowing almost nothing of the faith, nor of morals, nor of anything at all. There was little formation back in the day. I myself was also, I’ll say it again, an idiot.

However – and I say this as an encouragement for those young men who feel they have a vocation to the priesthood, but also feel themselves to be absolutely totally unworthy — the Lord did not abandon me, but, instead, despite my idiocy, filled my heart and soul with an almost frightening loyalty to whatever it was that I knew about all that is good and kind and holy, all that is orthodox Catholic belief and morality, at least when I wasn’t a total idiot in my sin. Actually, that loyalty wasn’t anything praiseworthy on my part. It was actually the very patient and solicitous guardian angel granted to me by our Lord (and to all of us), who went out of his way to direct me to all that is good and kind and holy and Catholic, not that I took his lead all the time… but, sometimes I did, for which I thank the Lord Jesus. I was happy to be make frequent confession an absolute in my life. I tried to get a spiritual director. The one I had, without even speaking to me, said that he couldn’t do anything for me. He left the priesthood altogether some time later. Anyway…

I have two horrifying, glorious stories for you, sketches of accounts which would be part of any autobiography should I eventually get to write it. My life is filled with such horror and glory, I suppose because such is the path Jesus knew I must take to be able eventually to look to Him instead of myself, all by His grace. O.K., so, here we are…

(1) Pope John Paul II had offered Mass just a few miles away from the seminary. It had been a Mass during which the heavens tore open with a pouring rain like I had not seen in the longest time. The mud was shin deep and getting always goopier and stickier with the trampling crowds. The next day I had an inspiration that I could not ignore, lest my guardian angel really whoop me upside the head and I regret not taking his direction. I asked a friend to come with me, saying, “We have to rescue the Blessed Sacrament.” He thought I was crazy, but went along because I insisted so much. I knew this would be good for him to see. When we arrived at the scene, the seeming battleground of the Papal Mass site, my friend stayed on a side street rather than slog through the sea of shin-deep mud with me, as I, without hesitation, went straight out into the mud and flowing pools of water about fifty yards. I just went where I thought I was being directed. Because of the rain, there were worms everywhere to be seen, having come up above the mud and water for some air. At one point, I stopped, looked down, and, there, just half sticking out of the side of a deep foot-print (some six inches down), was a muddied Host. Quite miraculously, it had not disintegrated in the least. My friend was overwhelmed, just not able to wrap his mind around what was happening. We brought the Host to a priest at a nearby church.

All this, of course, was an occasion to want to be all the more attentive to my guardian angel. Not that I always succeeded, for, as I say, I was total idiot. However, the Lord was working away on me in this way and that. He is very patient, good and kind, and does know how to draw us to Himself: “When I am lifted up [on the cross], I will drag [ ἑλκύσω ] all to myself” (John 12,32). “Dragging us”, you have to understand, is part of being patient and good and kind!

(2) A few years later, and now, by the grace of our Lord, having become more loyal to Him in every way, I had another angel/Eucharist/maggot experience. It was Summertime, and I was visiting home. About two and half miles walk on a gravel road winding through the forest and up and down the hard red-clay hills the local diocesan seminary was to be found. I was in the habit of walking this road late at night, making my way to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel of the seminary. There was always a door open somewhere in the building. I hated the chapel itself. These were the darkest of dark years for the Church in America, mind you. There was a bright orange, deep shaggy carpet with bright yellow bean bag “chairs”, the pews having been shoved off to the side. The tabernacle was a black and silver (mostly black) glop of metalwork. It sat on a granite post perhaps a foot square and four and a half feet tall. I felt terribly, terribly uncomfortable being there, but thought I should do some reparation for what was happening in that seminary, and prayer before the Blessed Sacrament was always a good thing, right?

Well, one day, visiting the Cathedral of the Diocese, I spoke to the rector, who was, in fact, the priest who had baptised me there more than twenty years previously. He wanted me to help him move into that very seminary, where he was to become the new rector. He was doing this to troubleshoot the problems that were there. He told me that there were priests there who would not celebrate Holy Mass for six months at a time for the reason that “the Vatican” did not allow women to preside at Mass. On the published student list, I had noted that, in fact, about one third of those studying there were women. I asked one what she was doing there and she said that she was studying for the priesthood, should her being ordained become a possibility. There were other problems as you might imagine.

When we walked into the front doors of the seminary, we put down our boxes and walked into the chapel to greet our Lord. What we saw was a scene from hell. There was what I hoped was merely “bread” everywhere. There was an array of multicolored candles all over the altar. Everything was in disarray. It looked as if there had been some other sort of pagan ceremony combined with the “Mass” that had been celebrated. The sacristy was worse, much worse. I only got as far as the Blessed Sacrament Chapel, where I knelt down. I asked the new rector if he could please open the tabernacle, as there was something terribly wrong on the inside. I just knew it. Well, no. I think this was my guardian angel after me. The rector complained that it was locked and so that was the end of that. I insisted, explaining that there was something terribly wrong. I suppose he thought that I was being nice enough to help him out with the moving, so he proceeded to find the key in the sacristy while I remained kneeling there on the floor. He soon returned and opened the tabernacle. He genuflected, but then, standing, he gaped into the tabernacle, unable to take in what he was seeing. He looked at me and then back into the tabernacle and then back at me. He then reached in and took out a paten and held this out for me to see. There were some five or six Hosts and… and… about a half dozen maggots munching away. I don’t know, but this seminary seems to have been one of the epicenters for the darkest of the darkest days in the history of the Church. And there I was, to witness it, to help do something about changing the situation for the better, not because I was any good, not because I was better than anyone else, but because the Lord wanted to teach me something in all this as well, just how evil things can be, and just how much I needed to be with Him, before Him in the Blessed Sacrament…

I’m sure this helped set the tone for what the new rector had to face in this seminary. This was good for me too, bringing me face to face with what had to be done for the seminaries of those darkest of all dark years in the Church. I would later find myself teaching in seminaries, hearing confessions, doing spiritual direction and formation advising. Yikes! Our Lord uses all that which we learn in our lives. He draws good out of even the most terrible of circumstances.

Now, I’m a hermit, with Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament in the hermitage. Jesus, you have to understand, is so very good and so very kind. Now I know even more how much of an idiot I’ve been –  and how much of an idiot I can be in any given moment if I am without His grace — all of which knowledge helps me to praise Him all the more and makes me want to encourage all to do a bit of Eucharistic Reparation.

Let’s say a prayer for vocations and for seminarians and for the admins and faculty and formators of our seminaries today… Hail Mary…

And now that you’ve done that… how about making the next Hail Mary you say for that intention be before Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. Closed tabernacle door or not (that matters little), stop in your church/chapel/oratory, and spend just a moment there, then praying this Hail Mary for this intention. It will do your soul good, and will be good for the souls of so many others. The Lord does hear our such prayers immediately, and brings about results efficaciously. Hail Mary…