Google Earth Pictorial: St Jerome Parish
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I am now leaving the last place I can call “Home.” It is a hard thing to do. I kept thinking, “Maybe one more day.” As much as I love home and my parents, I have begun to grow complacent in the spirituality of pilgrimage. I have been visiting people I know, places I’ve seen. I haven’t been able to focus on finding God in the day, probably because I still don’t believe God exists in income tax forms, though my dad, who is an accountant, is free to disagree. 

I don’t want to set out the idea that someone needs to leave home to find God. Pilgrimage is not so much the quest for God in and of itself as much as it is a spiritual practice which embodies the quest for God. One does a pilgrimage as a discipline to impact the way God is found in everyday life. In the same way Christ instituted the Eucharist as a perpetual sign of his presence to us, pilgrimage symbolizes the reality that each of us, is on a pilgrimage. until we reach our true home, heaven. In the meanwhile, it sure has been good be home.

As I consume my last bite of cheesecake prepared for me by my mom, only moments before leaving the house of my childhood and adolescents, I chuckle. I’ve put on a pound or three while being home, and they are still trying to fatten me up. It is the simple things about being at home that make you smile.  

I’m being fattened up spiritually as well. Today, I attended morning Mass a St. Jerome’s parish in Troy, Illinois. I received the sacrament of Confirmation at this parish. I also witnessed the Baptism of my Godson, David Massmann at St. Jerome’s. The parish is very simple. There isn’t anything fancy about it. To see my Google Earth pictorial of the parish, click here.  

And really, that is what someone needs to be “fattened” spiritually, mere simplicity.  

Monsignor Mank was the celebrant of Mass today. He has been a family friend for a long time and well before he became a Monsignor. Not all of the Church encounters Monsignors in the American church, so just a few words about that.  

Monsignors are priests of honorary distinction. It is French for “My Lord.” Often this title is given for priests who serve in important ecclesial offices of the Vatican or of a Diocese. It comes with a bit of pomp and circumstance, usually associated with fancier robes and wealthier parishes.In Msgr. Mank’s case, it is an honorary title give to him for his significant work in the Diocese of Springfield, IL, and the fact that he is a much loved priest by so many.  

So that made me a little surprised at Mass today. There was a Church worship space upstairs, so why would we crowd into a small room of modest means and crowded conference style chairs to say Mass? With a Monsignor as pastor, why would we settle for a simple wooden altar with a room with industrial carpeting, which could easily be transformed into a meeting room or overflow for extra space? Monsignors are not noted for simplicity. 

Yet in this intimate space, no more than 7 meters by 7 meters, sacred silence and reverence for the celebration of the Mass was exceptional. The feast day was the Feast of Timothy and Titus, and in the church building which I was Confirmed, I was affirmed. The gospel reading was of Jesus sending off 72 disciples to preach the Gospel. When they enter a town, they should say, “Shalom” which is Hebrew for “Peace.” A common greeting for Jewish people to this day. The disciples should live as the people live, eating what they eat, curing the sick, and preaching the good news. This passage has been a cornerstone in the preparation for this pilgrimage, and Mnsgr. Mank did very well at bringing that point home for me. 

After Mass, I began to see my own spiritual heritage in my conversation with Mnsgr Mank. He was telling my mom, dad, and I of a homily he gave a couple weeks ago in which he laid a mattress down in front of the altar and played a tape of a prerecorded “dream” that served as his homily, while he laid in front of the congregation, pretending to be asleep and dream.  I challenged him on this point. How does he, a priest of ecclesial honor, serve without pageantry? Isn’t he afraid of some authority who will chastise his efforts? Where are the extraordinary mosaics I saw yesterday that capture your breath and lift your spirits heavenward? And why? Why, is my spirit still lifted heavenward at a simple gathering of the faithful, in a small room, sharing sacred silence after the Eucharistic meal? 

The Gospel is meant to speak to people, who they are, where they are, and as they are. Msgr. Mank tends to ask the question, “What is the pastoral need here?” and he works hard to use the gifts God has given to him to supply for that need. In general, I would expect a lot more ceremony for a monsignor, but maybe that’s why he is a monsignor, he realizes the simplicity of the Gospel, and lives it, as best he can, even risking embarrassment to himself with a recorded homily, while he lies pretending to be asleep. If it will help communicate the love of God, he’ll do it. 

And so, with wooden altars, industrial carpeting, and the Word of God lived through mentors such as Msgr. Mank, my mom, and dad, I feel spiritually “fattened” today. It accompanies the fattened feeling I have from too much cheesecake. Physically and spiritually, I’m ready to journey beyond home, and that is how I am sent off. Without pageantry, but mere hugs and “I love you”s. Simplicity.