August 15, 2010 THE UNFINISHED IMAGE
It’s become a wonderful ritual. Five years ago, after he had retired and had more command of his time, I began inviting Bishop John Paul and Father Dwyer to the Cathedral Rectory for dinner on Saturday nights. After all, this was their residence for years. Bishop Paul was rector here from 1966 - 1977. Father Dwyer came as co-rector in 1974 and stayed on as rector until 1991. This place, as much as anywhere, is home to them. Well, one Saturday night led to another, then another. Now it’s a ritual which I turn down other obligations to preserve. I’m sure I look forward to it more than they.
We enjoy some refreshments in the living room, then, precisely at 6:40 we move to the dining room where Barb has prepared a wonderful dinner. Salad yields to an entre which is always followed by dessert, almost always our favorite, ice cream! The guests don’t stay long. Soon after dinner they’re on their way. Bishop Paul and Father Dwyer get acquainted with the associates at the Cathedral too over these dinners. Father McHugh left them laughing, Father Lindner left them wondering, Father Wolf told his deer hunting stories, Father Arthur thrilled them with his bountiful laugh. The associates in turn came to admire the strong character of the bishop and laughed with Father Dwyer’s closing comment each night, “That was a banquet!”
In the last year, a ritual has developed within the ritual. George is a layman from Wausau, friend to Bishop Paul and myself. Each Saturday he emails a letter which I print out and we read after the salad. George knows exactly the right things to say. A sampling . . .
“Be sure to tell our friend (Bishop Paul) how great he is. . .you’ve got a long way to go yourself!”
“I remember the first time I saw our friend. It was at Scout Sunday in La Crosse and this good looking priest comes down the side aisle in the Cathedral. He had a black cassock on and it had a red trim and buttons on the front. He was Monsignor Paul at that time. I can remember how impressed my boys were. Number #1 son was getting an award. Too bad you’re not stately and/or handsome like he is!!!!!” (Are readers seeing a pattern here?)
“I have to go to scout camp tomorrow and teach the boys how to boil water. Wish it were just a little warmer, but at least we’ll have a fire to keep us warm. Wish you were here ... you could probably learn something!” (“What?” I emailed back. “How to boil water?”)
“I’m at the cottage. The fire in the fireplace warms both body and soul ... and gives comfort to the ones loved by God! You’re not here!!”
Once I told him to write nicer messages to me, the kind he writes to Bishop Paul. He did! I didn’t like them as much. So, the original ritual persists. George continues his sweet talk to the Bishop and his mean talk to me. We all love hearing from him, this ritual within a ritual.