The devil you know

The title is meant to be ironic, because I'm talking about the priest of my church who just had to retire because a series of strokes he suffered this fall left him unable to fulfill the duties of his office. 

J. and I have been going to the same parish church for almost 10 years now, and Father T. has been priest there since we started going.  There are many things to admire about him.  He was orderly, efficient, frugal, a good administrator.  He ran a tight mass, with services running just about 55 minutes, rarely more.  His homilies, which often focused on the history behind the day's scripture readings were interesting and educational, never emotional, reactive, or hysterical.  He was a very good person to have at the helm of our church during the last decade when a massive restoration project became necessary rather immediately due to architectural damage suffered and exposed.  

On the other hand, no one could say he was a people person.  I think he frequently found his parishioners to be emotional, unmanageable, or flaky, and had a hard time masking his irritation.  He liked things done a certain way and would tell you if you erred, but not train you beforehand.  He didn't enjoy children and was awkward with them.  I always felt I was on the cusp of doing or saying something stupid around him even though I don't think I'm stupid.  I actually think I am at least as smart as he is.  Once it came up in conversation that I graduated from the University of Michigan, and - I found this funny, actually - you could see in his expression my value rising as he took in this new information about me.  He had a certain not very disguised snobbery in his hierarchical evaluations of the human worth around him.

So, anyway.  Fr. T. retired late in November, due to his health issues.  We have yet to have a new priest installed, although a temporary administrator and liturgical celebrant have been appointed.   As I sat in mass today listening to a rambling, though well-intentioned, homily and squirming on my kneeler as the priest went through the various OCD-like motions of the post-eucharist alter clean-up (it, I will admit, drives me crazy when a priest spends five minutes swabbing out a chalice with holy water, making sure he gets those last little bits of Jesus), I couldn't help but reflect on Fr. T.'s high points.  He had his good points and bad, but his alter routine was streamlined and tidy, I have to give him that.

It looks like, with the priest shortage, it may be awhile before we have another permanent priest appointed.  And I have to wonder what the fit will be like.  I surely do hope whoever it is won't mess with our gorgeous liturgy and musical accompaniment.  

You know what they say: the devil you know is better than the one you don't. 

We will see.   And I will continue to pray for Fr. T.'s physical recovery.  God bless him.