The Ballad Of The Priest

The priest had died and stood before

the judgment of the Throne.

His bishop could not help him here.

He stood there all alone.

 

Jesus looked upon him sadly

His eyes were filled with sorrow.

The priest gazed into those eyes.

He knew he had no tomorrow.

 

Jesus finally spoke to him, saying,

“Did you feed my sheep?”

But the priest could not answer Him,

And he started then to weep.

 

Then the flames engulfed him.

From his throat there came a scream.

But suddenly he awoke in bed.

Was it all a crazy dream?

 

But the image of the Lord’s sad eyes

was still burned into his mind.

An escape from His all-knowing gaze

The priest just could not find.

When next the priest went to say Mass,

It should not have been news.

But he saw indifference and apathy

in the Catholics filling the pews.

 

It might have been in their posture,

Or sloppy and immodest dress,

Or the lack of penitents all lined up

With sins they must confess.

 

When the priest gave his sermon,

He found himself distracted.

He began to understand

Why his parishioners weren’t impacted.

 

He felt the sad eyes of the Lord

on his ministry weak and cheap.

And now he knew why he was asked.

“Priest, did you feed my sheep?”

 

He came to realize that there were

many changes he would have to make.

But just how could he do all this?

He knew so much was at stake.

 

The priest went to his bishop

to get help and make a plan.

He wanted to try to save more souls.

The bishop would understand.

 

Instead the bishop checked the books.

and said, “Your collections are very good.”

“Go back and make sure they stay that way.

Just like a good priest should.”

 

“Your Excellency,” the priest began,

“I’m saving souls; this isn’t funny.”

He replied, “It costs to run a church.

Don’t scare away the money.”

 

The priest knelt down when he got back

to his quiet and peaceful church.

He prayed ardently for Jesus’ help.

and his heart and soul to search.

 

Jesus' sad eyes were upon him.

And he knew Whom he must serve.

But the bishop was deaf to his request.

Such treatment he didn’t deserve.

The priest humbly said to Jesus,

“Lord I can’t myself do it all,

But only give me grace and strength,

Or surely I will fall.”

 

“I know I should obey the bishop,

It is plain in Your sight.

But since I don’t have his support,

How can I make things right?”

 

He remembered once an older priest

Who once was thought one of the best

Maybe this priest could help him out.

He’s in a retirement home to rest.

 

The priest went to the retirement home

to visit his elder, wiser peer.

When he stepped into his room,

The old man motioned to come near.

 

The years had taken quite a toll

on this revered and holy man.

The younger priest was taken aback.

but determined in his plan.

He sat down and spoke to the old priest.

But the old priest’s voice was very weak.

His eyes were sharp and understanding.

But he didn’t want to speak.

 

The priest described in great detail

Of what his parish had now become.

And how the bishop was no help,

But would he give him some?

 

The old priest began to smile.

although the effort seemed great.

And it seemed as though he was about to speak.

in spite of his weakened state.

 

The old priest lifted up his hand.

And showed the rosary clutched within.

He struggled to speak just these two words.

“Start small,” but kept his grin.

 

At that the younger priest shed a tear.

It was right there all along.

Just as it says in scripture,

From the weak will be made the strong.

 

The priest pulled out his rosary too.

The old priest silently followed in prayer.

As they finished, the old priest died.

His last gift he had happily shared.

 

The priest prayed over his dead friend.

and as he wiped away his tears.

In the gift of his last two spoken words

Was the wisdom of his many years.

 

The priest then asked the bishop

If the funeral Mass he could say,

For the old priest who died in the home,

But the bishop said, “No way.”

 

“That priest was long forgotten

Like the old ways that he would preach.

I don’t want those things remembered.

They’re to be kept out of reach.”

 

The priest said to the bishop,

“He deserves a funeral Mass at least.”

The bishop said, “We’ll have a memorial.

with a lovely catered feast.”

 

The priest then went back to his church

and offered a private Mass. 

For the repose of the soul of the old priest

who had dignity and class.

 

The next Sunday he preached on hell.

But some parishioners complained.

The bishop told him he must keep

His sermons are more restrained.

 

But a few parishioners were fond of his

new commitment to the truth.

These few parishioners were not old,

still mostly in their youth.

 

The priest preached on the sacraments.

And on sanctifying  grace,

Purgatory he spoke of too,

a scary and painful place. 

 

Still more parishioners complained.

And some said they would leave.

The priest just wanted to save their souls.

to help them to believe.

 

The priest reflected  on times past

in the church when it was strong.

He never realized until then

Just how much of it went wrong.

 

He found a nicer crucifix

Over the altar it was hung. 

The modern hymns with a vulgar beat

They are no more to be sung.

 

He preached of respect and reverence.

and for Mass, being properly dressed.

And gradually the priest would hear

More sins being confessed.

 

The priest now led the rosary

before Mass every day.

And more people came in early

to join and kneel and pray.

 

The priest preached on the rosary.

because to heaven it is a key.

People sat straight and paid attention.

From the pulpit he could see.

 

He preached on fifteen promises

Of the rosary that Mary gave.

So beautiful and so simple,

How many souls they could help save.

 

But then the bishop called him in.

Severely reprimanding. 

“People are complaining,” I said. “Back off.”

What aren’t you understanding?”

 

He replied, “Back off the rosary,

Back off the spiritual life? 

In these things you should support me.

But in my back you stick a knife!”

 

The bishop said, “People have left.

Attendance and collection are down.

Why not try like Saint Pats on the east side?

They love the mass with the clown!”

 

“And what about the gay outreach?”

Said the bishop with a sneer.

“Why do you still not have one?

Tell me, what do you fear?”

 

“The gays are good for money

and for full collection plates.

They are very influential

all across the United States.”

 

The priest was silent for a moment.

remembering Christ’s sorrowful eyes.

All the problems in the diocese

now came as no surprise.

 

Then the priest said to the bishop,

“If being Catholic was a crime,

would they find enough on you

that you would serve any time?”

 

“That will be all now. You may leave.”

said the bishop in a huff.

The priest knew as he looked ahead

that things would now get tough.

 

But the priest's reputation grew

and the confession lines got longer.

There were new young families in the pews

and collections were getting stronger.

 

The priest  was given a large statue

of Jesus with the Sacred Heart.

“The following month, first Friday devotions,”

The priest announced “will start.”

 

All this time there was a man

who sat in the back pew alone.

He attended nearly every mass.

But about him little was known. 

 

He always dressed nice, his gaze was sharp,

But never a word had he spoken.

One Sunday he approached the priest.

His long silence was now broken. 

 

He said, “I’ve watched you, Father,

And I believe in what you’ve done.

You have made many good changes.

And I propose another one.”

 

“You preach on the sacraments,

And with the truth, you never fail.

But let’s pay respect to the host.

Install a communion rail.”

 

The priest replied, “I want to.”

but it’s something we can’t afford.”

Then the man handed him a check.

Saying, “This shouldn’t be ignored.”

 

The priest thanked him sincerely.

He was a very generous man.

The church would have a communion rail.

The priest would need a plan.

 

He wouldn’t need church or diocese funds

to accomplish this daring task.

Still, the bishop would want to know.

So he wondered, “Should I ask?”

 

The priest approached the bishop.

With an approach that should not fail.

He said, “Without using church or diocese funds,

I can install a communion rail.”

 

The bishop said, “How can you do this?”

The priest said, “A large donation. “

The bishop said, “Turn that money over to me.

For a different application.”

 

The priest said, “I can’t do that.

What you’re asking is not right.

The man gave for a communion rail,

Not for a would-be thief in the night.”

 

“Very well then, keep your money!”

sneered the bishop with a shout.

“But if you put in a communion rail,

I’m going to throw you out!”

 

The sorrowful eyes of Jesus

were on the priest once again.

Whatever the opportunity,

It seemed he just couldn’t win.

 

“How long since you’ve taken a vacation?”

The bishop stopped to ask.

“Take a few weeks off to think about things,

That is your ordered task.”

 

The bishop’s pride had made him careless.

And he had left the window open.

The groundskeeper that was just outside

heard every word that was spoken.

 

The groundskeeper’s sister was a maid

for the man who made the donation.

He shared with her what he had heard.

concerned about the situation. 

 

The priest went on a long retreat

Where he could pray and think and fast.

When he stepped back in the church,

He just stood there aghast.

 

There was a communion rail

Of beautiful wood, carved and stained.

But exactly who put it in there?

How could this all be explained?

 

He hadn’t cashed the check he was given.

He hadn’t made any plans.

He hadn’t hired any contractors.

He just didn’t understand.

 

He turned around and saw the man

who made the large donation.

He said, “I hope you like it.

I can give an explanation.”

 

“I salvaged it from an abandoned church.

and did a full restoration.

I had some men install it last night.”

The priest looked on in admiration.

 

“The bishop will be furious.“

The priest said with concern.

“But,” the man said, “it was a cost-free gift.

Will the bishop ever learn?”

 

When the bishop found out, he was in a rage.

An emotional train wreck.

But then he became a little confused

when he was shown the uncashed check.

 

The bishop said, “You are on notice, priest.

This is the last time I will warn,

Cross me and you’re in a rural town,

saving farm animals and corn!”

 

Word had spread of the communion rail

And the parish continued to grow.

The priest continued to preach the truths

that his parishioners needed to know.

 

The old parishioners became more Catholic.

And the newer ones did too.

They were loyal to the priest and to the church.

the most Catholic place they knew.

 

When the priest could find the time,

He would visit parishioners in their home.

He always got the warmest welcome

wherever he would roam.

 

His parishioners fought for the faith.

saying to the bishop in a letter.

“The gay and clown liturgies are wrong.

You certainly should know better.”

 

The bishop blamed the priest for this.

And with not a hint of sorrow,

Dismissed the priest to the rural town,

saying, “Report there tomorrow!”

 

The priest was sad but he obeyed.

The rural church was small and dirty.

But even when it was cleaned up,

It would only seat about thirty.

 

 

On Sunday as the priest got ready for Mass,

He heard some noise outside.

He looked and what he saw out there

made his joy hard to hide.

 

Three hundred fifty parishioners

Had all taken the long ride

To assist at mass with their good priest,

But they would not all fit inside.

 

“We need you, Father; we want you back.”

Were the things that they would say.

“I just don’t know how that can be,”

said the priest. “Oh, we’ll find a way.”

 

The next day at the chancery,

The secretary saw a gathering crowd.

“Hey, you all can’t gather here.

It simply isn’t allowed!”

 

But more than a hundred walked by her desk.

and barged through the bishop’s office door.

They surrounded his desk and filled the room.

He said, “What’s all this for?”

 

For a moment they stood and glared at him.

And then one started to speak.

“You will send back our priest to us.

Your excuse to exile him was weak.”

 

“There will be no money in those collection plates

Until you choose to do the right thing.

Give us our priest who helps save our souls

Or feel the bankruptcy sting!”

 

The bishop’s moral compass was smashed.

Only money and pride made it work.

He thought about what was said for a moment.

and stood with a sudden jerk.

 

“Alright, alright, you can have your priest back!”

He said, although beaten and crushed.

“And furthermore,” said the man from the crowd,

“The priest won’t be silenced or hushed.”

 

“A holy priest such as this is hard to find,

one that you should want to keep.

For he understands why our Lord says

“if you love Me, feed my sheep.””