Sunday, September 2

Friends, at last Sunday’s liturgy I shared a good portion of this article as part of my homily.  Many of you were asking about it.  So here it is in its entirety.  Let’s keep praying and working together for the reform and renewal of the Church that is ours.

Fr. Tom Hurley

Why I’m not leaving the Catholic Church

by John Gehring

If there ever was a time for a demoralized Catholic to pack it up, head to the nearest Episcopal church and declare himself a refugee from religious malpractice, the most recent round of clergy sexual abuse scandals would seem ample justification.

As the Pennsylvania grand jury report discloses in painful detail, the institutional evil and brazen culture of cover-up that allows predators to abuse with impunity befouls the air like a mobster’s cigar. The Mafioso analogy might seem overwrought, but omertà — the Mob’s code of silence about criminal activity — feels like an apt description in this case. The Pennsylvania grand jury, after consultation with the FBI, described the way church officials acted as “a playbook” for concealing the truth.

I’ve been asked by friends who aren’t Catholic, and some former Catholics over the years, how a progressive could stay in a church that doesn’t allow gay people to marry or how I could be part of a patriarchal institution that refuses to ordain women.

I sputtered out answers that were likely insufficient, not logically airtight, and probably unacceptable for some. For me, and I would guess for many Catholics, the church is not like a political party’s platform that you parse for complete alignment with your preferred ideology or policy goals. My faith is more naturally compared to the complicated bonds of family and tribe, a place where you feel most at home even when the people in your own living room sometimes drive you mad.

Questions about my Catholic identity are becoming harder to answer in recent weeks. How could somebody choose to associate with a church where the words predators and cover-up are now commonplace in headlines?

Of course, the abuse crisis isn’t new. The National Catholic Reporter was chasing down the story almost two decades before The Boston Globe broke its bombshell investigations in 2002.

Nevertheless, the latest revelations about former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick — the first American cardinal in history to resign from the College of Cardinals — and the news that 300 priests in six different Pennsylvania dioceses abused at least a thousand children, feels different. No longer is there any doubt about the scale of this systemic evil. If what took place in Boston wasn’t the norm, the details from Pennsylvania also prove it wasn’t an aberration or isolated.

While it’s true that most of these abuse cases occurred years ago, and the U.S. bishops’ implemented a Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People in 2002 that helped significantly reduce the number of abuses in recent years, this has been a summer of anguish for Catholics.

The church feels at a breaking point.

In the middle of Mass last Sunday, a father in Georgia stood up with a searing question for his priest that reverberates far beyond one parish: “I have a son. He’s going to make his first Communion. What am I supposed to tell him?” This is a question and a haunting lament. About 5,000 Catholics, including theologians and scholars, have signed on a statement calling on every bishop in the country to resign. The poetry of William Butler Yeats comes to mind: “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.”

So why am I still Catholic?

The church has always been a flawed, sinful, human institution filled with darkness and light. In part, I go to church these days to grapple with those contradictions, to find healing in the Eucharist and strength standing next to my fellow weary travelers.

I like to imagine those who became improbable saints — the Christ-denying Peter and the persecuting Saul who found redemption as Paul — looking down and reminding me that Jesus never abandons us, especially in our darkest hours, even when we don’t know the way home. I refuse to let the church I love, still filled with grace, be handed over to men who abused children, abused power and defiled the sacred.

The writer James Baldwin remarked [4] that he loved this country so much that he insisted on the right to criticize it perpetually. I feel the same way about the Catholic Church. I’ve lost trust in some bishops and cardinals. I still believe in the people of God.

While some of our captains who wear those pompous hats and expect to be called “your eminence” have steered the ship badly off course, those of us down in steerage class are the reason the ship hasn’t completely sunk. We journeyed too long and weathered too many storms to let this vessel crash on rocks without a struggle.

I’m probably writing this as a form of therapy. I’m piecing words together to form some order amid the chaos, trying to remind myself that the best lights that illuminated my path came from the same church that now seems shrouded in darkness. Catholic nuns who taught me about justice and dignity. Jesuit priests who taught me to pray and discern and think. Franciscans who reminded me that the grandeur and glory of God can be reverenced in a forest as much as any cathedral.

I’m grateful to those I never met but who are spiritual teachers: Flannery O’Connor, Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton. I want to summon all of that goodness and wisdom and spirit. I need it as medicine for healing. Fuel to keep believing. So with all those companions, living and dead, I will keep showing up. Together, we might rebuild our church again.

John Gehring is Catholic program director at “Faith in Public Life,” and author of “The Francis Effect: A Radical Pope’s Challenge to the American Catholic Church.”

This article was originally published on National Catholic Reporter (ncronline.org)

Sunday, August 26

By Father Tom Hurley

Before coming to Old St. Patrick’s I spent six years serving at the college seminary affiliated with Loyola University.  My main responsibility was vocation ministry and admissions.  I recall many visits to our catholic high schools here in the Chicago area as I tried my best to share with countless students the joy and excitement I felt in my heart for the vocation to priestly life.  As part of my classroom presentation I shared my vocation story and how it all began for me as a young child who grew up in a typically Catholic household which was located directly across the street from my parish church and school.  Part of my story also included the loss of two siblings, a tough chapter of my life which I have shared many times with the people of Old St. Pat’s throughout the years.  I remember one time being in a classroom at Mt. Carmel High School and after I spoke a student threw me a total curve ball question which stopped me in my tracks.  “Father,” he said, “if you experienced so much suffering by losing a brother and sister, why do you stay as a person of faith?  And how do you keep on believing in the goodness of God?”  I was dumbfounded by such a powerful question.

Standing somewhat speechless for a moment, I remember my response I gave to him.  “Well, you’re right.  We have lost a lot.  But If I give up on God, then what else do I have?  To whom then can I turn?”

Even though the Bread of Life discourse has occupied our liturgical gospels these past several weeks of August, today’s continuation of that text packs a significant challenge, one reminding me of the student in that classroom many years ago.  Many of those first disciples gave up on Jesus and walked away because they couldn’t put their head around his language and his ideas.  But Peter, in one of his shining moments, boldly proclaimed: to whom shall we go?  You have the words of everlasting Life!  You are the Holy One of God!

We lose.  We get burned.  We become bewildered and angry.  We bring hurt upon others.  May the words of Peter remind us again of God’s faithfulness to us.  Though at times we’d love to run away, may the energy of God keep pulling us back and allow us to feel the presence of the One who is with us always, no matter what.

Prayers for healing and peace in our troubled times.

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, August 19

By Father Tom Hurley

I woke up to see him crying as he sat at the foot of my bed.  Unfortunately, it is one of the worst memories that I’ll hold onto for the rest of my life.

The morning of May 26, 1985 feels like yesterday.  It was a Monday that year which also happened to be Memorial Day.  Besides getting up to study for my high school final exams, there was really no other reason for me to get out of bed any earlier that day.  But somewhere around 6:00 a.m., as I was still in deep sleep, I could feel someone coming into my room and sitting on my bed near my feet.  As I opened my eyes and tried to gain some kind of consciousness, the only person I could see was my dad sitting on my bed in his pajama pants and t-shirt, his head hanging low.  As I sat up in the bed and asked him “what’s up Dad?” he lunged toward me and he began to cry.  “It happened again.  It happened again” he kept saying through his tears.  I said, “what do you mean?  What’s happening?”  “Scott drowned in the lake,” he said.  He went on to explain that he was notified sometime during the early morning hours when everyone else was still asleep that a boating accident on Lake Michigan the night before had left my brother Scott missing in the water.  He was 26.  I was speechless.  The only thing going through my head was “oh my God, how could this happen to us again?”  Again.  Only two years prior we mourned the sudden tragic death of my sister who was only 23.  I have relived that awful moment in my head over and over again.

That same awful feeling pierced my heart this past week when the Pennsylvania Grand Jury released its 900+  page report on the sexual abuse crisis amidst the Catholic dioceses in their state.  Over 300 priests and more than 1,000 victims spanning a 70 year period of evil.  Like many of you, I am sickened and heartbroken by the revelation of such darkness that has blanketed the life of the Church.  When I saw so many of the reports flooding Twitter on Tuesday, I couldn’t help but feel the same way I did on May 26, 1985:  it happened again.  Here we go again.  When will this ever stop?  I am speechless at the extent of the shame and destruction that members of the clergy, priests and bishops alike, have brought upon countless victims.  How could this happen?  And how could this go on for so long?  How many lives have been permanently wounded by such sickness?

In the past days I have heard from many of you regarding your hurt, disgust, bewilderment, and total confusion as again, we face this terrible chapter in our life’s journey as a church.  Trust me, I share in your anger and sadness.  This is not what I signed up for 25 years ago.  I never imagined that I would be writing about such a dark, ugly topic in a church publication 25 years after ordination.  Nothing but great parish priests, great women religious, and great Marist Brothers were part of my vocational call to the priesthood.  I love being a priest and I love the Church.  And yet I find myself again having to apologize on behalf a church that has failed miserably.

We are a Holy people.  We are a Life-Giving Church.  We are a Church so passionately and deeply committed to the Gospel of Jesus.  We do it well.  I am proud of Old St. Pat’s and I am so proud of the many, many incredible ways the Church is living out its Gospel driven mission in the world today.  I saw it at the Border this summer; I saw it with high school kids in Kentucky a few weeks ago; I see it and you see it too.

Let’s pray and work towards the Healing of the Church.  Let’s pray and work towards rebuilding the lives of victims who have been harmed by members representing the church.

For Hope; For Healing; For Peace; For a renewed commitment to Building the Kingdom of God: mercy, love, and charity.

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, July 22

By Father Tom Hurley

Many years ago, when I was a student in the seminary, I can recall that in many Catholic circles there was an increasing emphasis upon the value of hospitality when it came to the rite of holy communion.  As many were trying to better appreciate the gift and the spirit of the Second Vatican Council and the liturgical reforms, I remember that many churches were introducing an adaptation to the communion rite by having the communion ministers themselves receive AFTER everyone else in the assembly had received.  The point of having the ministers receive afterwards was a theological attempt to say “just as in your home, the one hosting normally eats last, so too in this moment, the one sharing holy communion should also eat last.”  While I totally understand the theological underpinnings of such a move, I know that adaptation was short-lived in the church’s liturgical life.  It was just something the Official church couldn’t fully embrace.  As we know, that happens.

I was a young priest when the late Archbishop Francis George came to Chicago for his new assignment back in 1997.  While I respected him as the Cardinal Archbishop, I can vividly recall the first time he saw that liturgical audible taking place.  I happened to be one of his Master of Ceremonies at the time and during one of the first masses he celebrated in Chicago, he turned to me at communion time and asked when the communion ministers were going to receive.  I reported to him that those who organized the mass said they would receive last, after all the people.  (I totally threw the liturgical planners under the bus…shame on me!)  He was none too happy to hear that.  And I knew then that a new sheriff had arrived in town!  On the ride back to his residence, in his frustration, Francis George schooled me on the theology of why the ministers should receive first:  “You can’t give what you don’t have!”,  I remember him saying to me in the car.  That made sense to me.  Though I didn’t always agree with the late cardinal, I always enjoyed listening to him.  He was one intelligent cookie.

The point of this reflection is not to argue, rightly or wrongly, about when communion ministers should receive.  It’s not exactly a compelling topic.  But the words of the late cardinal ring in my ear as I think about those words from Mark’s gospel today.  Referring to the life of the apostles who had just returned from their mission trips to proclaim the Kingdom of God, Mark tells us:  “People were coming and going in great numbers, and they had no opportunity even to eat!”  I think of the cardinal’s wisdom:  you can’t give what you don’t have!  We can’t do much on an empty tank.  If there’s no spiritual nourishment coming in, then how can we expect to be those who nourish the souls of another?

So what does Jesus do for his hungry, tired friends?  He takes them away in a boat by themselves to a deserted place.  We need to renew.  We need to replenish the tank.  We can’t possibly do the mission of the Church unless we are feasting on the Bread of Life.  We will grow lethargic in our spirit if we don’t take care of ourselves.  We can’t feed the crowds unless we allow the Good Shepherd to feed us.

Having just returned from the border of Mexico and the USA last week, I was struck by the many immigrants and asylum seekers I encountered in a short three day immersion trip.  It was an eye opening experience to see not only the plight of the poor immigrant, but also the tender response by some of the greatest heroes of the church.  We visited various Catholic respite centers on our trip in Texas and in Mexico and at each location I couldn’t help but think about the words of Mark’s gospel:  they were like sheep without a shepherd.  So many of the people we met appeared so sullen, as if their hopes for a better life had been dashed.  But when I think about the amazing ministry of so many women religious (nuns) who minister on a daily basis to these sisters and brothers of ours, I marvel at the ways in which these holy women and countless volunteers feed and nourish the gift of Hope and Compassion to those who need it most.

We live in a demanding world.  Let’s take care of ourselves as best we can.  Nourish your soul.  Take care of your spirit.  We can’t give what we don’t have.

Be well,

Fr. Tom Hurley

Sunday, July 1, 2018

By Father Tom Hurley

I couldn’t have been more than five or six years old when it happened.  My great Aunt Helen who was an immigrant from Ireland and remained single her entire life was like our third grandmother.  Everyone in my family adored Aunt Helen.  She was awesome; friendly, fun, and very present in our life as kids growing up.  I remember one day she brought me with her to the grocery store, a Jewel that used to be located at the corner of 111th and Western.  I recall going up and down the aisles with her as she did her shopping, but at some point during our time in the store, I couldn’t find her.  Being small and not able to see clearly down the aisles or at the cashier’s line, I started to panic.  She’s gone, I thought to myself.  She left without me.  I remember going outside the grocery store and I rested my rear end up against the store window as I began to cry.  What am I going to do, I thought to myself.  It didn’t take long for me to burst into tears and quickly thereafter some strangers (adults) gathered around me.  What’s the matter, they asked.  I can’t find my Aunt Helen, I cried.  Moments later (what seemed like eternity) Aunt Helen arrived outside.  All was good with the world again.  I was safe.

There are certain events that stick out for us in our lives.  That’s one of them for me.  Being separated from Aunt Helen at that grocery store feels like it happened yesterday.  And I’m 51 years old.  That separation from my adult-protector only lasted about 10 minutes before I was reunited with Aunt Helen.

Imagine what that must be like for children at the borders of this country, and in other parts of the world as well.

I stand with Cardinal Cupich and the bishops of the United States in decrying the evil act of separating children from their parents.  It is nothing short of cruel and unconscionable.  As the Cardinal wrote: “There is nothing remotely Christian, American, or morally defensible about a policy that takes children away from their parents and warehouses them in cages.  This is being carried out in our name and the shame is on us all.”

I am grateful to the members of Old St. Patrick’s Church and staff who brought us together on Wednesday evening of this past week and crafted a very moving liturgical service for people to lament this present situation in our country.  Part of that service included what we called a “Zero Tolerance” litany, led by our own Vince Guider, the director of our Kinship Initiative.

For those who weren’t able to be here on Wednesday, I offer the litany as a way of reminding ourselves as Christians what Zero Tolerance means to us.

“The crisis on our Southern border is morally indefensible.  Separating immigrant children from their parents is not only cruelly contrary to the love of Jesus Christ, it is also a form of child abuse that causes irreparable harm, family destabilization, and lifelong trauma.  Contrary to the false and insensitive claims of those in power and in contrast to the vile and divisive attitudes of many in our country today, we as Christians, also call for a different form of zero tolerance.

If you refuse to be silent about inhumanity but prefer to act justly, please boldly and loudly respond, ‘ZERO TOLERANCE!’

In response to all racist, sexist, classist, and indecent behavior, we pledge… Zero Tolerance.

In the face of tribalism that breeds insensitivity and apathy against others, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

For political leaders and policies that turn blind eyes to the marginalized, poor, and suffering, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

For godless practices that further empower the haves and more deeply afflict the have-nots, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

When people are subjected to disrespect and alienation because they are different from us in color or sexual orientation, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

When our society discards the elderly, the disabled, the unborn, and the mentally ill and so tears away at the seamless garment of human dignity, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

If institutions remain aloof when they can bring relief to the hungry, the lonely, the unemployed, and those fleeing persecution, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

If our government, businesses, friends, co-workers, associates, classmates, or family members perpetrate any form godlessness discrimination, we pledge Zero Tolerance.

May we always be people who not only speak up but also show up for comprehensive, compassionate, and righteous immigration legislation, and for all other forms of social justice for God’s people, this we ask through Christ our Lord.  Amen.”

May this 4th of July week be a time to pray in thanksgiving for our immigrant ancestors who helped to form this country and, in turn, may there be healing and peace in these troubling times.

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, June 17

By Fr. Tom Hurley

A big word of THANKS to all who are working so hard to make our World’s Largest Block Party a big success this coming week.  I am so deeply grateful to our fearless leaders from the Old St. Pat’s staff, Sheila Greifhahn and Kathleen Quinlan, who are so incredibly dedicated by all the time, creativity, and coordinating they have been doing for many months to get ready for Chicago’s most popular summer party!  And of course they would be the first to say that if it wasn’t for the incredible volunteers who jump in, none of this would be possible.  Welcoming several thousand people to our “block” is a big deal.  Thank you all for supporting it through your participation, marketing, and purchasing of Pot O Gold tickets too!

Many have been asking about the new building across the street, 625 W Adams, and the parking structure.  Our Operations Director Mike O’Gara has been working very hard to hammer out the details with the owners of the building and the parking company to make sure our use of the parking lot is seamless.  Somewhere in this publication is an announcement about an “orientation” to the parking lot on Sunday, July 1 and then our exclusive use of the lot beginning on July 8.  Please know and please be prepared that parking in a structure is not as easy or convenient as parking in a surface parking lot.  Thankfully, now and for the foreseeable future, we will still have use of both the parking lots and also our new structure.  But when the day comes and those parking lots are no longer available, a prayer for patience will need to be invoked when we use the 625 Adams structure, exclusively.  Everyone will need to go slow and take your time coming and going in that facility.

As for the other space in that building of 625 Adams, you may or may not know that Old St. Pat’s is also assuming ownership of a new 21,000 square foot “great space” where we plan to have overflow masses, events, concerts, talks, dinners, whatever the mission calls for!  Because we are still working out occupancy details and other matters (not the least of which is buying furniture this summer), we plan on having our first official “Open House” on Sunday, August 26 after all the masses here at Old St. Pat’s.  Afterwards, during the 2018-19 school year we hope to “roll out” the new space with various events to celebrate its grand opening.  A lot of years and a lot of thought went into this new arrangement for this space.

Finally, just a heartfelt word of blessing to all the dads today.  Happy Father’s Day to all of you who celebrate this great day.  To all of our dads, living and deceased, we thank you and we lift you up in prayer to God today.  And to all of you as individuals who serve in both capacities as mom and dad in your household, bless you abundantly with strength and guidance.  Enjoy the day!

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, June 10

By Fr. Tom Hurley

I was 18 years old when I entered the college seminary for the Archdiocese.  It was late August of 1985 and my mom and dad were ready to drive me to the north side suburb of Niles so that I could formally begin my journey of discernment for the priesthood.  Like many significant days in our lives, this is one that I remember vividly, like it was yesterday.  I can recall loading our Ford station wagon that was parked in our driveway on a hot, humid August afternoon.  The game plan was to drive north, unpack the car, move in to my seminary dorm room, and then be ready for a welcoming mass and parent orientation.  As we made our way on the Dan Ryan expressway, I could feel my anxiety coming on stronger:  what am I doing?  Is this the right thing?  Should I be at another “normal” college?

As we pulled in to the driveway of the very small campus of Niles College Seminary of Loyola University that used to be located at Harlem and Touhy (it no longer exists!), I could see the dark clouds moving in from the west.  Not a good combination on an already stressful day.  After we pulled the station wagon into the necessary parking lot and I checked in at the front desk of the seminary dorm, I came back outside and began the process of moving my personal things onto a cart and into the hallway where a freight elevator was waiting.  Just as the process started, the heavens opened up and an afternoon thunderstorm hovered overhead dumping rain, full force.

Frustrated, angry, moving fast, running out of time, getting wet, trying to protect my items, intimidated by being there in the first place, I made a trip from the car into the building and upon entering with another load, I tripped, fell, dropped items and then let out an expletive that was not very becoming of a young man starting the seminary!  As I looked up, continuing to swear, I noticed right away that a man in black pants had just entered the same hallway.  Whoever it was definitely heard me and my foul mouth.  Much to my chagrin, the man now standing over me was none-other-than Father Bob McLaughlin, the Rector of the seminary.  Uh oh, I thought, this is not a good way to begin our relationship.  Expecting perhaps a word of correction for my vile language, I looked up and the only thing I saw was a man, shorter in stature, in a Roman Collar standing there with a smile.  “Welcome to the seminary, son.”  He laughed which allowed me to laugh a little and get out a sheepish “sorry Father.”  And the rest is history.

Fr. Bob McLaughlin was one of the finest priests Chicago has ever known.  Having served as rector of the seminary, pastor at Holy Name Cathedral and Mary Seat of Wisdom Parish, he died suddenly around 13 years ago at a young age while golfing in Florida.  Bob was a great teacher, magnificent preacher, and a huge cheerleader for young adults and the next generation.  His loyal friends put together an annual golf outing and dinner after his passing in order to both remember Bob and raise some funds in order to make some grants to particular missions around the Archdiocese of Chicago that help form the next generation.  If you’re free on Monday June 18th, come join the fun in Park Ridge.

Father Tom Hurley

 

 

Sunday, June 3

By Father Tom Hurley

I suppose the summer time surfaces a lot of feelings and memories for all of us: relief from the winter and cold temps; an excitement to be outdoors; memories of vacation places; or perhaps fond memories of what we did with our summer days since we were out of school on break.  One of my fondest memories that gets triggered by these summer days was growing up as a kid on the south side and playing on a baseball team at the local park district.  With the exception of a few other sports like youth football and basketball, baseball and being part of a team is perhaps my strongest memory of what it was like to enjoy the summer days on a baseball field  Of the many memories flooding my mind these days was the sense of “team” and all the various chants and cheers coming from both benches and which seem to be time-honored expressions made by players to this very day.  Perhaps the one chant I admired most was when certain teammates on the bench would try to get the rest of the team motivated, especially if the score reflected a deficit.  Almost every game, some team leader would blurt out  “Talk it up, bench!”  Translated, that means the team should make some noise, motivate each other, and get some energy if we’re going to have any chance of winning this game!  Though I haven’t been around too many baseball benches in recent years, I just presume “Talk it up bench” is still a motivating force for young sluggers hoping to put another W in the victory column.

My message to you this day is founded on that time honored chant from the baseball field:  Talk it up bench!  On Friday & Saturday, June 22 & 23 Old St. Patrick’s will be hosting the 34th annual World’s Largest Block Party.  Many of you have not only heard about the Block Party, but so many of you have both created and volunteered for this special event for many years. For those new to the scene, the World’s Largest Block Party is an outdoor festival featuring music, drink, food, and great people coming together for some summer fun. With an estimated crowd of more than 10,000 people, the WLBP is a major undertaking which requires the assistance of more than 500 volunteers and various committees who help make this event a huge success each year. Unlike 30 years ago when the WLBP was one of very few summer festivals in Chicago, today the WLBP is one among many.  The competition is more difficult today than years ago.  The presence of Lollapalooza, Northerly Island, Taste of Randolph, concerts at Wrigley Field and Soldier’s Field, and the numerous other street and neighborhood events has increased a hundredfold from the days when the WLBP was practically the only “gig” in town for young adults.

So, even though the World’s Largest Block Party enjoys a long, well deserved reputation of being a great summer party in the shadows of Chicago’s oldest church, I would ask you kindly to “talk it up bench!”  With so many options on the table every weekend for a young audience across this city, “talking it up” on social media, in your buildings, at your work place, at the gym, on the softball field or volleyball court, and in your neighborhood would be a terrific sign of support that we need to make sure the WLBP remains successful.  For the good of the overall mission and success of Old St. Pat’s, your grassroots marketing assistance will go a long way in helping us promote what we think is the “best” (pride intended) party of the summer.  Look for details in this publication about the WLBP and if I might be so bold in saying to you again:  Talk it up bench!

The other area where this expression might also come in handy is just the overall invitation I would ask you to make to others who you think should experience the hospitality and liturgical excellence of Old St. Pat’s.  Summer is a great time for all of us to be more deliberate at inviting other people into this community.  So, please: Talk it up bench!  There’s no better day than Sunday at Old St. Pat’s.  And then after Mass enjoying a day or night out on the town in Chicago’s downtown area or along the lakefront.

Thank you for being here today!  Blessings to all of us for a renewing summer!

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, May 20

By Father Tom Hurley

(I really need to preface my remarks on this Pentecost Day by just expressing my total, 100% empathy and reverence for those among us who struggle with fertility issues. This is something that I’ve witnessed in my own family and as a priest I have journeyed with many couples throughout my years in ministry who carry the incredible challenge of failed pregnancies. The only reason I bring this up is because I’d like to borrow the metaphor of fertility as it applies to the life and birth of the Church, as it applies to this Feast of Pentecost.)

I’ve never been a big fan of talking about the “birthday of the church” as it refers to Pentecost and yet I realize that such a theological stance is popular and perhaps accurate.  I know that many preachers around the globe will use that kind of comparison today from their pulpits today and good for them.  But other theologians will argue that the real “birth” of the church happened on Good Friday when “blood and water” flowed from the side of Jesus, thus marking the birth of something new, or a new body itself: the church. Instead of arguing who’s right on the actual birth, I’d like to go back to the moment of conception and fertility.

We are told that the moment of the Annunciation, when Gabriel came to Mary, that the Holy Spirit would come upon her and she would be with child, thus revealing to us the fertile power of the Spirit.  It seems to me, then, the fertile gift of the Holy Spirit struck again when, as tongues of fire and a driving wind, the spirit of the Risen Christ, came upon those first followers and called them to “birth” the mission of the Gospel.  I’m not a doctor but I think it’s pretty simple biology that before there’s birth, there has to be fertility and gestation.  So I would argue that Pentecost is not the celebration of a birth, but rather the feast of fertility and the openness to being born again by the gift of the Holy Spirit. Meaning, what will we give birth to this year?

Several years ago, those who were here making up the church of Old St. Patrick’s, gathered together in one place (as we hear again today in the Acts of the Apostles) and we proclaimed that we wanted to become pregnant with a thing called “Kinship.” Inspired by the passionate words of Fr. Greg Boyle and contemplated by those in leadership here in this community, we opened ourselves to the gift of the Holy Spirit and how the Spirit might guide us, or “incubate” us, in how we would grow in our identity as the Church of Old St. Pat’s today.  Such a time of pregnancy brought us to “being” church in KINSHIP with a neighborhood called North Lawndale on the near west side of the city.  Guided and cared for beautifully by our own Vince Guider, our birth as a kinship church has been powerfully fulfilling for many people and so many bonds have been formed because of this relationship.  Such great accomplishments have been made in the areas of education, service, shared worship, youth athletics, and employment opportunities.  Like any development, we are still toddlers and likewise still learning how to grow in our Kinship model of church.

I know that in the coming weeks, you will hear more about opportunities to keep growing in this “body” of kinship.  Many of our good people have developed an “Orientation Session” on what this kinship model is all about and how can we better affiliate ourselves as members of Old St. Pat’s in relationship with the North Lawndale community.  I am looking forward to experiencing this kinship orientation in the coming days with members of our Board of Advisors.  I really want us to grow in this model of church.  We stand on fertile ground!

On this feast of Pentecost, may we allow ourselves to be more open to where the Spirit is both impregnating us and sending us to be Christ’s Body in the world.  What’s new that will be born in us this year?

Thank you for the outstanding joy and energy you bring to this experience of Church here at Old St. Patrick’s.  How privileged I am to be with you on this journey.

A blessed Pentecost to you,

Father Tom Hurley

PS:  Many have been asking about my 25th anniversary as a priest, which is officially May 22.  Because of Fr. Wall’s 50th anniversary celebration, I didn’t want to overwhelm Old St. Pat’s with two such events so close together.  So please mark the date of September 9th and we will celebrate OUR shared experience of Church together for these 25 years.

Sunday, May 13

 

Every now and then, after reading the tales of the early Church as it is told to us through the Acts of the Apostles or days like today in which the Church celebrates the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord, I begin to wonder what must have been going through the minds and hearts of those early Christians.  And likewise those first followers of Jesus who, 40 days after this Easter Resurrection experience, were now going to bid their friend a fond farewell as He prepared to Ascend to God’s right hand. I wonder what they must have they been thinking  In my wild imagination, I have a feeling some of them must have been whispering among themselves:  what did we get ourselves into?  With shaking heads and rolling eyes, as they confronted obstacles, heard of friends being arrested and thrown in prison for what they believed as early Christians, and still others who were being persecuted and scorned all because of this Jesus, I wonder if some of the first disciples weren’t asking:  are we sure about this?  Are we nuts for saying yes and following Him?  Is this going to be all that it’s cracked up to be?  Will it get any easier?

Although this year (because we are in Cycle B readings devoted mostly to the gospel of St. Mark) we are proclaiming a different text, the version of the Ascension that I most appreciate is from St. Matthew.  For it is in Matthew’s gospel that we hear two significant things as Jesus is getting ready to Ascend to Heaven:  first, that the disciples doubted and second, Jesus’ promise to his bewildered friends.  I remember several years ago, a Chicago priest named Fr. Leo Mahon wrote a small book about Jesus and in his writings Leo reflected on this scene from Matthew’s Ascension account.  He said, I take great comfort in knowing that some of the early disciples had doubts.  That gives me great peace, Leo said, knowing that it’s okay to have some questions and not have all the answers.  Mindful of the many challenges we face together on this journey of faith, I concur with Leo Mahon:  it’s more than okay to have questions, fears, and doubts.  It’s natural and it’s human!

I also appreciate Jesus’ most significant promise, as told to us by Matthew:  I will be with you always!  As He looked into the eyes of his troubled, doubting friends, all of them questioning what would life be like without his physical presence here among us, Jesus knew what to say:  I am for you!  And I will always be here for you!  In your doubts, with your fears, amidst your sorrow, among you in your good times and bad, sickness and health:  I will be among you now and always…no matter what…until the end of time!  Just as I take great solace in knowing that it’s okay to have some doubts and questions, I take even greater comfort knowing of the Promise the Risen Christ makes to all of us: to stand near us, to hold us, to be our strength.

When I think about the vocation of motherhood (and fatherhood too), I can’t help but associate the experience of the Ascension with that of our moms and dads.  When I think of the awesome responsibility so many of you as Mothers and Fathers take on, I immediately put you in the category of the first disciples.  Amidst your joy and speechlessness the first time a child was brought in to your life, through birth or adoption, how many of you may have been whispering to yourself or to your spouse:  oh my, what did we get ourselves into?  Are we ready for this?  Will we be good parents?  Do we have what it takes?

On this most sacred day as we celebrate the Feast of the Ascension, I hope you all take comfort both in your questioning hearts and your dedicated vocations as Mothers and Fathers that the Risen Lord stands with you always.  It is the promise we need to hear perhaps more often than just on Ascension Day:  “I’m with you!  We got this!  It’s okay to know that being a Mom or Dad is not easy.  But what an incredible rewarding vocation to participate in this divine partnership with God as we care for the next generation!”

May the Blessings promised to the first disciples be the gift we receive today:  I am with you always!

Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Ascension Day!

Father Tom Hurley

Pastor

 

 

Sunday, April 26, 2018

By Father Tom Hurley

Click here to read.

Sunday, April 15th

By Bernadette Gibson

WITNESS AND RECOMMIT OURSELVES TO LOVE

This week’s Gospel is about witnessing and recommitting ourselves to Love. It’s important for us to remember that the last story Luke shared with us is when Jesus was joining the two downcast disciples on their walk from Jerusalem, seven miles to the little village of Emmaus. They didn’t realize it was Jesus at first. They were pouring out their hearts at how all their hopes had been dashed when Jesus, whom they had hoped to be the one who would redeem Israel, had been crucified. He had been delivered up by the very chief priests and scribes of the people, the most respected religious leaders, and that conversation is carried on. The other thing that really strikes me about this story is that the meal in which they finally recognize Jesus is not shared in some sacred space like a temple or synagogue, and neither is it a specifically religious meal. It is not a Seder, or even a Sabbath meal. It is a traveler’s meal, taken together in borrowed quarters at the end of a long walk. It is, if you will, a meal at a highway diner or a picnic at a rest stop, and nothing more than that. And yet it becomes a sanctified meal and a moment of deep encounter with the living Christ.

It’s a remarkable scene in a remarkable chapter. First there were the women, going to the tomb and not finding Jesus there. Mary, encounters the living Christ on her journey of sorrow. Then there were two disconsolate disciples, winding their way back to the little village of Emmaus, and suddenly He’s there with them but hidden from their eyes, teaching them the Scriptures, building the foundation of their hope up again from the shambles and then revealing Himself to them in the breaking of the bread; and suddenly the joy was there again and the hope returned and the life came to pass and they ran back to speak to the disciples and now they’re telling the disciples about that amazing journey from Jerusalem to Emmaus. And while the words are in their mouths describing their interactions with Jesus, Jesus appears there and He speaks to the disciples. And the very first word out of His mouth to His disciples is PEACE, Jesus says “May the favor of My Father that gives total wellbeing be upon you.” Remember, collectively, his disciples have denied Him, abandoned Him, and disbelieved in Jesus’s promises. And yet the first words out of Jesus’s mouth are reassurance, peace, and loving companionship.

And so today’s Gospel contains an important message for all of us – especially for those still searching for Jesus, or for those who feel like we have lost Jesus. There are some walks that are longer than others – not because of the miles or even because of the landscape, but because of the burdens. I suspect the walk to Emmaus was one of the latter type. The walk would have been difficult – because it was the walk of hopes in shambles. It was the walk through the valley of disillusionment. It was also a walk burdened with perhaps accusation and personal shame. I have thought, meditated in some quiet moments this week, sort of searching my own heart about times when I felt like I was lost to Jesus, or at least felt Jesus felt lost to me. I am reminded how when I allowed the Spirit of God to lead me, my mind has been flooded with peace and the knowledge that our God will always stand with me.

The church is a complex thing, and life in ministry work gets infinitely complex when we accompany those with losses and tragedies in our community.  Sometimes, it becomes so complex that we lose sight of the bottom line, the basic. I really think that the basic ingredient or element of our Christian life is to love and recognize Jesus’s presence before us in our lives, especially when we are afraid, lost, or broken.

Every Easter, I take the time to re-commission myself and to think about my participation in our mission. When I think of today’s Gospel, I believe that Jesus’s presence in the Gospel today was one of mandating his disciples. I imagine that Jesus was reminding His disciples of the mission. He was saying, “That’s what you are. You are My witnesses.” Jesus also calls us to be a witness, to view ourselves as one who was witness to the forgiveness that only comes through Jesus. Jesus reminds us to find His deep peace. Jesus once again teaches us the Scriptures patiently and opens our eyes to understanding. We stand as ambassadors of the exquisite love that was first shared with us. So come, Lord Jesus, in the dawning of each day, and make yourself known to us, wherever we find ourselves breaking bread. Send your Spirit upon us so that, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, and your disciples praying for Your return to them, our hearts may burn within us as we seek You again in our Lives.

Bernadette Gibson is Director of Pastoral Care at Old Saint Patrick’s Church.

Sunday, April 8th

Daily Resurrections 

By Ron Rolheiser, OMI

What the Resurrection of Jesus promises is that things can always be new again. It’s never too late to start over. Nothing is irrevocable. No betrayal is final. No sin is unforgivable. Every form of death can be overcome. There isn’t any loss that can’t be redeemed. Every day is a virgin.

The Resurrection assures us that God never gives up on us, even if we give up on ourselves, that we can regain lost innocence and move beyond bitterness. In a scheme of things where Jesus breathes out forgiveness on those who betray him and God raises bodies from the dead, we can begin to believe that in the end all will be well, including our own lives.

However, the challenge of living this out is not just that of believing that Jesus rose physically from the grave, but also, and perhaps even more importantly, to believe that no matter our age, mistakes, betrayals, wounds, and deaths, we can begin each day afresh. No matter what we’ve done, our future is forever pregnant with wonderful new possibility. Resurrection is not just a question of one day, after death, rising from the dead, but it is also about daily rising from the many mini-graves within which we so often find ourselves.

We are human and we cannot avoid falling — into depression, bitterness, sin, betrayal, cynicism, and the tiredness that comes with age. Like Jesus, we too will have our crucifixions. More than one grave awaits us. Yet our faith in the Resurrection invites us precisely to live beyond these.

As John Shea once so aptly put it: What the Resurrection teaches us is not how to live — but how to live again, and again, and again!

This piece was taken from “Daybreaks: Daily Reflections for Lent and Easter Week.”

Sunday, April 1, 2018

By Fr. Tom Hurley

Just a couple of weeks ago, as we celebrated the Feast of St. Patrick, I shared with those who gathered here for the civic and community celebrations about my experience of sharing some pictures with my dad last year.  Similar to Tuesdays With Morrie, I do Mondays With My Parents and I enjoy spending the second day of the week with them, almost religiously every week.  Last year, on the Monday following our St. Patrick’s Day celebrations of 2017, I went home with my laptop and walked into the kitchen where my dad was sitting in his wheelchair reading the newspaper and enjoying some Irish music that the caregiver had put on.  After catching up with each other for a few minutes, I then asked my dad if he would like to see some pictures that were taken from the weekend’s St. Patrick’s Day festivities.  After firing up the computer, I pulled in next to my dad and began scrolling through the wonderful photos taken by our very own Mike Lyons.  He enjoyed seeing the Shannon Rovers, the Irish Dancers, the Parade Queen and Grand Marshall, the numerous people dressed in green, as well as the extraordinary shots of the Celtic interior of this church.  As he was soaking in the pictures from my laptop, I could tell that he was pondering a thought and getting ready to make a comment.  Sure enough, a few moments later, my dad asked me:  “Are you on a leave of absence to be at this church?”  Huh?  I thought.  What do you mean?, I asked him. “To be at this church HERE IN IRELAND, are you on a leave of absence?”  He thought he was in the Emerald Isle. Getting close to 91 years of age, he often times gets confused 🙁

I did my best trying to help him recall that we are here in Chicago and these photos are from the church where I am pastor, Old St. Patrick’s.  Look, I said, there’s a picture of the archbishop, Cardinal Cupich!  My dad said:  “Cupich, that doesn’t sound Irish?”  I responded and said we call him O’Cupich and he’s from County Croatia….I laughed, he didn’t.  I then pointed out the Mayor, Rahm Emanuel.  “Emanuel, that doesn’t sound Irish either!”  I said he’s not.  He’s Jewish!  My dad was surprised and said:  “Galway has a Jewish mayor?”  I said:  I guess we do now!  Again, I laughed.  He didn’t.  My parents lived in Galway city from 1953-1958 while he attended medical school.  Often times, because of an aging brain, he will find himself going to Ireland.

On one hand, we can join together and lament the aging process and the onset of dementia.  It’s no fun watching our loved ones lose their physical and mental faculties.  But even though I wasn’t able convince my dad that he was sitting in his home of 55 years on the southside of Chicago on Monday in March of 2017, he himself was delighted to be in Ireland, even if it was just for a few hours.  He wasn’t frustrated, questioning, nor angry.  He was peaceful and actually enjoying himself as he looked at the pictures of most things Irish (with the exception of the Croatian cardinal and Jewish mayor) with the Irish tunes delighting his soul in the background.  Okay, I thought, you’re in Ireland!

With the exception of John’s gospel, the Easter texts all tell us about the importance of going back to Galilee!  Go back to Galilee, that’s where you’ll find Him, is the message conveyed by angels and other first proclaimers of the Lord’s Resurrection.  Go back to the place where the Mission began!  Go back to the place where He healed, He preached, He ate with the imperfect, and where He proclaimed Mercy.  Go back to the place where He walked with the troubled and where He helped those on the margins to believe in their essential goodness as the Beloved sons and daughters of God.  Go back to the place where He gave people a second chance and instructed them about how they could be and should be builders of the Kingdom of God.  Go back to the place where people were intrigued by Him and where it was perfectly okay not to have all the answers to life’s most difficult questions.  Go back to the place where His only desire was to bring the message of Peace, Love, and Justice.  Go back to the place where people live and where they experience the joys and struggles of life.

My dad’s “trip” to Ireland (and he’s been there a few times since) brings him to a place of peace, security, and joy.  On this Easter Sunday, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to this holy space.  I hope that this Easter will be another reminder, as well as another invitation to keep coming back to the Galilee moments of our lives.  Go back to the Holy.  Go back to the place in our hearts where we are most at peace and where we are most in touch with the presence of the Living God.  Go back to the basics of what it means to be a daughter and son of God, as well as a fellow disciple on the journey.

Thank you for being here today!  Thank you for creating a Church that welcomes all.  May you be blessed abundantly and gently on this Easter day.

Father Thomas J. Hurley

Pastor

By Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, March 25th, 2018

I know it’s Palm Sunday and in this column I should immediately be focused on the Triumphal entrance into Jerusalem and the Passion of our Lord BUT for a few quick sentences I’m hoping you’ll let me do just a little “venting” in the aftermath of St. Patrick’s Day.  As I wrote last week in this publication, despite all the work, anxiety, and preparations that go into the “high holy days” of St. Patrick’s Day, I really do love it.  I appreciate the celebration of Patrick and I love everything about the Irish saints and the mysteries of faith shared with our ancestors who, in turn, brought that wonderful heritage to our immigrant shores.  I love the music and the pride of the Irish.  I love the magnificent ways we have creatively shared the richness of Irish culture through our annual Siamsa Na nGael concert.  I love the Irish dancers and the Shannon Rovers.  I love our choir and the hours of rehearsals they log in order to fill our sanctuary with celtic tones.  I love our staff and all of the many volunteers who work tirelessly to make sure our several hundred visitors on parade day are showered with the best of Old St. Pat’s hospitality.  I love the kaleidoscope of colors and the celtic knotting that draws us into the mystery of creation, helping us be mindful of God’s presence and God’s desire to breathe life into us.  How blessed and fortunate are we to have this extraordinary sanctuary to pray in each day.

 

So what’s my venting moment?  In the interest of full disclosure, I probably spend too much time on Twitter and Instagram and last week was no exception.  I thought last weekend was magnificent:  our civic mass went well, the parade was festive, there were loads of people in downtown Chicago, and the sun was shining brilliantly.

By Saturday night, after a full day of activities, I finally arrived home and as I was sitting on the couch both watching the news and scrolling through Twitter, I couldn’t believe what I found.  For all the beauty and significance of this annual festive moment honoring the life and sacrifice of this ancient Missionary who brought the faith to Ireland, the only story I could find receiving top billing on all of our local stations was about one thing:  the dyeing of the river green!?!??  Huh?  The pictures dominating Instagram last Saturday, St. Patrick’s Day, were countless photos of people standing on the banks of the Green Chicago River.  Besides coverage of politicians at the parade in pre-election mode, that was pretty much it.  If you knew nothing else, one would think that the river and the parade are what define this feast day in honor of St. Patrick.  Oh I realize that making a 5th century saint is not exactly the top story for the 10:00 p.m. news in 2018, but what about this historic church and the many other places of worship that literally suspend our season of Lent for a couple of days in order to honor the one for whom we have this holiday in the first place?  Not wanting to sound overly critical, but where was the religious significance of this moment?  Isn’t that more important than a batch of chemicals being sifted into a river to make it turn green?  One friend of mine who I ran into at a party benefiting the great mission of Misericordia actually used the “S” word with me as we were commenting on the large crowds and the incredible energy being poured into the St. Patrick’s Day “weekend” each year:  secularization.  I told him:  say it ain’t so!  Has St. Patrick’s Day been hijacked for the purpose of partying, liquor sales, and buying all things green and goofy?  Rick Kogan wrote an article in the Chicago Tribune last week pondering the same kind of question.  I recommend you read it.

While I don’t want to nourish my soul on sour grapes, as the pastor of the shrine dedicated to this missionary to the Irish people, the events of last week just have given me a moment to pause.  Are we losing the religious significance of St. Patrick’s Day?  I cringe just typing those words.  Is spending time watching a river turn green more important than the brilliant, beautiful prayer we lifted up together last Saturday and Sunday in this holy place?

Likewise, welcome to Holy Week.  Palm Sunday and the days to come this week define who we are as a Christian people.  They defined St. Patrick and why he dedicated his life to the preaching of the Gospel. I hope you will not only carve out time in your busy life to be here for some of the many services this week, but I also hope you will invite someone else to join you, especially someone you may know who might be drifting away from the faith.  These are special, holy days that renew us in this identity.  Many people are working hard to make sure those who come into our sanctuary are nourished in prayer, showered with hospitality, and renewed in soul.  I hope you will be among them.

Thank you for being here on this Palm Sunday.  May it truly be a Holy and Renewing Week for all of us and may the Paschal Mystery guide us with Hope through all the dying and risings of our lives.

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, March 18th, 2018

If you come near me in the weeks leading up to the patronal feast and ask me about the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations associated with Old St. Patrick’s Church and around the city, some of the staff already know my annual response (or I should say my “beef”).  For with rolling eyes and often a shaking head, I am quoted as saying:  “my next parish is going to be a small quiet place in the country!  Get me away from the Irish!” Well, first of all, Hurley, you are Irish and you live in the city and there’s really no small parishes or even country space anywhere in the vicinity of the Archdiocese of Chicago, so that’s not going to work.  And secondly, I don’t really mean it!  Truth be told, I love this time of the year and all the excitement that goes along with the various celebrations honoring St. Patrick and the many ways we express that devotion through the events associated with this magnificent church and our community.  Oh I admittedly get anxious about what I’m going to say for our civic and community masses on this festive weekend, but when I put all that behind me, I really am deeply grateful for the chance to celebrate in this historic church and in a city that is home to a large number of the Irish diaspora.

 

St. Patrick’s Day (or what has become St. Patrick’s MONTH) reminds me (and I’m sure many of you) about the gift of family and heritage.  Back in October of 2015, about 40 people from Old St. Pat’s went on a trip to Ireland with the purpose of participating in the Dublin marathon that year, which we did.  Afterwards we spent the next 5 days traveling around Ireland and enjoying the incredible beauty of its landscape and people.  As we made our way from Killarney up the west coast towards Galway City, we found ourselves at one point in County Clare.  Though I was admittedly dozing off during the bus ride, I immediately perked up when the driver announced that we were approaching a little town called Milltown Malbay.  I had never been there before and even though the bus wasn’t able to stop, when I heard the name of this town I immediately thought of my long deceased great aunt, Helen.  She was born in Milltown Malbay, Co. Clare.  Helen was not my aunt by-blood, but by adoption.  She was born Helen Looney but because there were so many Looney children and the family was not able to care for all of them, my great grandfather John J. Hurley adopted Helen and likewise brought her, as a child, to the United States when he immigrated here.

When I heard the name of Milltown Malbay  a rush of memories flooded my head as I fondly thought about Aunt Helen.  She was one of my earliest heroes.  With the hint of an Irish brogue and always laughing, Helen taught us some of the old familiar Irish tunes.  She never married and worked in retail at Marshal Fields her entire career.  There was no one more supportive and excited about my decision to enter the seminary than Aunt Helen.  I will always be grateful to Helen for the incredible sacrifice she made by putting the down payment on my first real car as I began the seminary, knowing that I’d needed transportation to and from St. Mary of the Lake in Mundelein.  I absolutely adored this holy, simple woman from Clare!  Her great spirit continues to nourish my soul.

Today is not only a day to remember our heroes of the past but to keep singing the tunes and celebrating the faith and heritage we are called to hand on, joyfully, to the next generation.  Helen Looney Hurley was a “Dreamer” and she made the United States (Chicago) a great place because of her incredible love, goodness, culture, and sacrifice that she brought to this country.  On this St. Patrick’s Day, may we continue praying through the intercession of Patrick the missionary and immigrant, for all those Dreamers from so many cultures who came here as children and continue to make this country the great place that it is.

Welcome to all of our visitors today celebrating this Holy festival in honor of Patrick.  We are glad you’re here!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day,

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, February 18th

By Fr. Tom Hurley

Earlier this past week, on Fat Tuesday, the priests of the Archdiocese of Chicago were asked to come together for our February gathering to discuss issues related to our mission as a church in Cook and Lake counties. Cardinal Cupich began this practice a few years ago of calling us together at least three times during the course of the calendar year. I enjoy these times to both reconnect with friends and colleagues in priestly ministry, and to share ideas related to the life and vitality of the church. As you may recall, just over two years ago, Cardinal Cupich announced that our local church of Chicago needs to take a more serious look at our reality, especially as it relates to our parishes attendance numbers, finances, and the deferred maintenance of our church properties.  Mindful that no organization can simply just go on ‘business as usual,’ the Cardinal and his team took on an ambitious and in-depth look at what’s happening “under the hood” of our car. As you can clearly imagine, we have some issues. No surprise there. So for the past two years, the Cardinal and the Archdiocese (all of us!) have been on this journey that we are calling “Renew My Church.”  Taken from the inspiration of St. Francis of Assisi, Renew My Church is now the coined battle cry for our need to make some definite changes in our daily organizational practices as a local church.

As the Cardinal has stated numerous times, Renew My Church is NOT Close My Church. We presently have about 350 parishes in the Archdiocese of Chicago. Will some parishes close and consolidate? Yes.  However, the point of this journey is not just transactional decisions or survival of the fittest.  It’s not just about numbers. The Cardinal was very clear at the beginning that EVERY parish will be involved in the process of RMC. What does that mean? Well, instead of having 350 “franchises” operating as independent contractors, there are ways in which resources can be shared so that areas and regions can better serve, and hopefully become more alive and vibrant.

My point today is not to bore you with details related to archdiocesan functions. But what really caught my attention this past Tuesday was our focus, as a presbyterate, on not just Renew My Church, but more importantly on Renew Ourselves. We contemplated, more intentionally, on the ways in which WE need to be renewed as priests and as disciples on the journey. There’s no way in which the Renew My Church enterprise is going to have any fruitful success unless we first renew what our faith in Jesus is all about.  By the way, this is not just something related to a bunch of priests. This question is for ALL of us who make up the church in the upper Midwest.  

The Cardinal himself gave a great talk which really inspired me. He spoke about growing up in a big family in Omaha (he was one of 9 kids, like me) and all the first moments of inspiration that influenced not only his vocation to the priesthood, but more importantly his formation as a believer and a man of faith. The main point of his inspired words that captured me was his reflection on the gospel text when Jesus, on the day of Easter, told his friends to go back to Galilee. “Going back to Galilee” is a great message. Jesus told his disciples to go back to the place where it all began. Go back to the shore of the Sea of Galilee where he first called people to follow him and his mission. Go back to the place where he asked Peter, “Do you love me?”…And as Peter answered in the affirmative….Jesus tells him, “Then go feed my sheep!”

What does this mean for us today on the first Sunday of Lent? I don’t mean to jump ahead 40 days to Easter already and totally bypass Lent, but we’re an Easter people already. We celebrate Easter every time we get around that Table. My hope for me and for all of us this Lent is that somehow we’ll keep working at getting back to the origins of who we are and what this journey of faith is all about. Like Jesus himself in the desert for 40 days, it’s about getting in touch with the Source of Life, the One who sustains us when we’re hungry, tempted, lost, and feeling alone. Let this time of Lent be our own personal “Renew My Church,” so that as we Renew My Soul and take better care of our spiritual house, then we’ll be able to better care for the larger house of the church to which we belong. Let’s Get Back to Galilee and remember our call and our relationship with the Risen Lord whose only desire is to fill us with more Hope and more Life.

Blessings to you always,

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, January 7th 2018

By: Father Tom Hurley

JoAnn O’Brien, our long-time, extraordinarily gifted and outrageously kind Wedding Coordinator here at Old St. Pat’s, came back to work this week and discovered what she always discovers every year after Christmas, a voice-mail box filled! As you can imagine, Christmas is a pretty popular time for guys to get down on their knees and “pop” the question with a ring ready to go.  Likewise, couples will rush to the phones and start inquiring about potential dates with Old St. Pat’s and our availability to have their weddings.  God bless JoAnn, and the countless phone calls and emails she handles on a daily basis!  Wow…

In case you ever wondered how us clergy find our way into the wedding scene, what normally happens is that we receive a call or an email from the couples asking us to preside on their special day. No matter how many weddings we do here at Old St. Pat’s, each one is unique and special and I am always honored by the invitations to play a special role in the nuptials.

That was certainly the case this past week with two exceptionally beautiful email invitations by some young adults whose weddings will be taking place here at Old St. Pat’s in this calendar year. One email came from Bill and the other one came from Nicole. While unique in their own way, both emails from this aspiring bride and groom were two of the most delightful reflections about their experience of finding Old St. Patrick’s as their spiritual home. You would think that some bride or groom could just easily write, “Can you do my wedding on such-and-such date?”, but to Bill and Nicole’s credit (and by the way they are not a couple…just two separate individuals who wrote to me!), they both spent a lot of time crafting and being extremely intentional about their emails and their way of inviting me to preside at their weddings. I was so impressed with their deep sense of spirit and their desire to seek out a church that would both welcome them and challenge them to be better disciples and people of faith.  Common to both emails from Bill and Nicole were young people who were very conscientious and deliberate when it came to finding a church that they could call their “spiritual” home. Old St. Pat’s wasn’t just the “pretty” church to have a wedding, but both of these couples searched diligently a few years ago for a place to enrich their spiritual lives. Each of them spoke of the encouraging, inspiring experience they have received when they come to this place. They highlighted the special atmosphere of hospitality and the profound sense of belonging they felt as they continued coming into this community, and from their experience of calling Old St. Pat’s their church, both Bill and Nicole expounded on the fact that they have felt a deeper sense of mission (my words, not theirs) in living out their faith on a daily basis.

I can’t tell you how gratifying it is to receive such emails from people for whom church is an extremely important part of their life’s journey, especially some of the young adults among us. Being intentional and finding a place where the gospel comes alive and it connects with our spirits is a great sign of life and hope for the church.

On this Epiphany Sunday as we contemplate again the ride of the Magi, let’s continue to be aware of the travelers who come in to our midst. Like the Magi, we seek Holiness which is expressed in so many ways, including a place of welcome and challenge. Like the Magi, once we’ve discovered a place of nourishment, it’s then time for us to bring the gift of God’s life and love and be on our way, back into the world which is waiting for us. Like the Magi, we may travel far and wide to find the kind of reception they found. May the Spirit of God keep guiding us gently on our path and lead us deeper into the Mystery of Love.

Happy New Year. Be well and be blessed in 2018.

Father Tom Hurley

Sunday, July 2, 2017

by Fr. Tom Hurley

It seems like everyone has been curious to see how the World’s Largest Block Party worked out for us last weekend since we brought it back to the block. In a word, I would say that the 33rd WLBP was GREAT! First of all, a big huge THANKS to everyone who had something to do with making it GREAT! From the many volunteers and committee members who put in long hours of planning, serving, and hosting this awesome summer time party to all the staff folks here at Old St. Pat’s who worked so very hard on every aspect of the party of setting up, tearing down, and advertising, and of course, ALL the many people who generously supported us by their presence.

Many people asked me about the changes to the Block Party and why we made them. First of all, as I’ve explained a few different times publicly, the Old St. Pat’s World’s Largest Block Party carries a notable, recognizable name for people around the Chicago area, including the media. We were on every major network this year. People know about this party and they like the tame, friendly environment we foster for this event. For many years, as the party was growing, OSP didn’t have much competition when it came to summer festivals. Now, in 2017, there are multiple fests, street fairs, and concerts happening in almost every neighborhood of Chicago and out in the suburbs. As we kept chasing after big name bands to be our headliner for the event, it became apparent to us financially that we could no longer keep up with the major concert venues such as Lollapalooza, Pitchfork, and Lake Shake, to name just a few. This year, we made a strategic decision to bring the WLBP back here and make it what it was originally meant to be, a block party. Using local musical artists and therefore decreasing our expenses (and risk, with an outdoor event), we appealed to a crowd that just basically likes Old St. Pat’s and enjoys a summer street fair on a city street in the shadows of our beautiful downtown. In addition, mindful that the West Loop neighborhood has grown tremendously these past several years and with the large number of families both in the neighborhood and within our membership, we decided to create a more “family friendly” event beginning earlier in the day on Saturday. Thankfully, it worked! Families came out in great numbers and enjoyed a pleasant afternoon in the park at the Block Party KidZone. It was a steady flow all afternoon. So, overall, Old St. Pat’s did very well. We believe we hit the budgeted number that was planned and likewise we created a fantastic buzz about the fun and enjoyment of this signature summer event. Again, thank you for your support and encouragement.

After the 8 am mass today, I will tkae off with our Foundations Teens and young adults on a summer Worktour to eastern Kentucky. I’m honestly not sure where I’m going or the details. I’ll find out when Courtney tells me in the van. Please say a prayer for a safe and enriching experience for these delightful, hardworking, and faith-filled young members of Old St. Pat’s. It is always a great time for me to be inspired by this “next generation” by their fun, conversation, music, and wild antics on these trips.

Enjoy the 4th of July. As I write this, I’m not sure where our state lawmakers are with the budget or where the federal government is going with the health care bill, but let’s pray for wisdom and courage to do the right thing for all people, especially those who are poor and most at risk by these critical decisions.

Prayerful best for a restful, renewing summer. See you next weekend!

Father Tom Hurley