Father Mike -- around the time I met him. |
I met Father Mike 35 years ago, when my friend Pauline died because of unexpected complications from what was supposed to be a fairly routine heart valve replacement. He was the priest at her parish at the time, and his gentle pastoral presence for Pauline's family and friends helped to ground us at a time when we could barely get our heads around the death of someone so young. She was only 21.
Because Pauline was a student at our local theological college, her funeral was held in the chapel there, and organized and presided over by some of her friends. But Father Mike and his pastoral team were the ones who held the grieving family during and after the funeral, and I remember Pauline's mom speaking very fondly of him every time I visited her in the years that followed.
Not two years after Pauline's death, her dad was killed in a search-and-rescue mission plane crash, and the family was plunged into grief a second time. Again, Father Mike and his team came to offer the family what consolation they could. Mom Plumbtree, as I called Pauline's mom, counted on Father Mike's friendship until he left the parish to become rector at St. Joseph's Basilica downtown, and beyond. She often reported on where he was and what he was doing when I visited, his friend right to the end. He presided at her funeral, too, nine years ago.
Father Mike also found the proverbial five minutes of fame when he handled the marriage of Edmonton's most famous hockey player while at the Basilica, and developed a lifelong friendship with the couple. I picked up a signed hockey jersey from Father Mike for a L'Arche fundraiser once -- he had pull with many Edmonton sports heroes.
Father Mike was the kind of man who had a heart for others, who cared enough to spend time and really listen to a person's questions and struggles. He wasn't one to stand on Catholic ceremony or traditions that excluded people. I loved the mischievous twinkle in his eye when he was pulling someone's leg, or they were pulling his. He spoke his heart, even when he disagreed with the official teachings of the church on certain issues, so although he became the Archdiocesan Chancellor for a time, his views probably disqualified him from ever becoming a bishop. He was one of the few priests I ever met who talked about his belief that women should also be priests, never mind the hierarchy's rules. He called women to leadership positions whenever he could, and if I'm not mistaken, my last real conversation with him was at the funeral of my Roman Catholic Woman Priest friend, Ruthie, about how well she carried her vocation.
I've seen him a few times since, as I often walked my dog around the residence where he was living for the last few years of his "retirement" that really wasn't a full retirement -- he kept busy filling in at parishes when priests were away. I always liked his homilies because they were short and to the point, no theological gobbledygook, just sensible, practical Christianity.
In these days of pandemic, it strikes me that we need more wise men like Father Mike, people who cut to the heart of the matter, who call people to honesty, who see the value of every person and exclude no one, who listen deeply, and who celebrate God's mystery among us. Father Mike was a good man, a good priest, and a good friend to many people. And to me, that ranks him with the folks we call saints.
st. Father Mike, pray for us. And please greet Pauline and her parents for me!
His funeral is online January 20th at 11 am at https://www.facebook.com/archedmonton.
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