A Good and Faithful Servant

Some time ago, at a social gathering, someone who was exceedingly sure of herself was holding forth on the perceived lack of young, dynamic priests to inspire new generations of boys to consider the priesthood. This comment has never sat well with me. Just to begin with, too often "dynamic" means heterodox, and I'm still waiting to see evidence that heterodoxy breeds a superabundance of vocations. But most of all, the remark was set within a context which made it clear that, as a general proposition, the speaker saw no particular use for elderly priests, except as fillers for easy chairs in lonely apartments. I thought instantly of a particular priest who would probably have laughed this off, but on whose behalf I quite resented the implication that elderly priests have neither inspiration nor service, nor anything else useful left to offer the Church.

On May 14th, Fr. Donoghue will celebrate the 53rd anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood. Although he no longer bears the responsibility of running a parish, he is far from idle. Every morning, instead of enjoying the leisure he has earned many times over, he gets up before the sun and heads out to one of the smaller local parishes on an errand of mercy. Most of the parishes in town have daily Mass around 8:30 in the morning -- a time when a lot of people have to be at work -- and some have more than their fair share of Communion services during the week, instead of Mass. But in fair weather or foul, Fr. Donoghue arrives faithfully to offer Mass at 7:00 a.m. every single morning, Monday through Friday. He offers the Mass for the needs of various people, whether he knows them or not; this morning, he offered up Mass for the souls of those murdered at Virginia Tech yesterday, and for the shooter, who (he reminded us) also stands very much in need of mercy; most of all, he gives a gift to all those who want and need to attend daily Mass but otherwise couldn't because of their schedules. Despite the very early hour, every single morning, the tiny day chapel in which this Mass is celebrated is packed to the rafters.

A man whose priestly career spans more than half a century is obviously neither young nor in the prime of his health. Father's shoulders are somewhat stooped under the burden of the many years they bear, and he walks with a shuffling gait. Every now and then, a purplish mark, like a bruise, shows up on his face or the top of his head. The altar candles cannot be lit because he is on oxygen. The man is unquestionably in poor health; yet for this priest, for whom even breathing is becoming laborious, the Mass is a fountain of youth. Although sometimes it looks as though he is about to lose his balance during the Eucharistic prayer, a tiny smile of childlike wonder and adoration plays over his lips as he gazes upon the consecrated Host, always holding it between thumb and forefinger. So far from routinizing the Eucharist, thousands of Masses over decades have only increased Father's awe at this miracle on the altar that takes place at his hands, about which he never tires of reminding his overflowing congregation.

It is during the homily that Father is at his best and most animated. Even after 53 years of experience, he still spends time preparing each homily; and each homily is full of nuggets from the Popes and the early Fathers, fatherly counsel, a touch of humor, and -- most of all -- solid Catholic teaching. Jesus in the Eucharist as our Food for the journey is one of Father's favorite themes. How many years has it been since you've heard a homily about repentance, confession, purgatory, the primacy of Peter, the riches of Scripture, or the unique holiness of Mary? Fr. Donoghue preaches about all these things. No one else could summarize the doctrine of papal infallibility so simply and memorably: "Now, if the Holy Father tells you to use brown shoe polish on black shoes," he says, waving his hand, "Na-a-a-h! But if he makes a statement about faith and morals...you'd better listen!" He even preached a homily about Hell during Lent; and at the end, he said, with a twinkle in his eye: "Now you can't say it's been years and years since you heard anybody preaching about Hell!"

A priest is still a priest, no matter how old he gets. Even after he has stopped being able to run a parish or travel far from home, he hasn't stopped being able to pass on his hard-won wisdom, give good counsel, forgive sins, and -- most of all -- offer the Mass for early birds. So when the rubber meets the road, what's more inspirational: a young priest who tries to be hip and cool, at the expense, not only of orthodoxy but of his priestly dignity; or a priest who has persevered in service and self-sacrifice for nearly five and a half decades, and who continues to pour himself out, unstinted, even amid old age and infirmity?

Thank God for Fr. Donoghue.

Note: this post (with minor modifications) has been published under the title "Far from Idle" in the November 2007 issue of Homiletic and Pastoral Review (published by Ignatius Press).