Deacon Dad

Today (not the Monday that I find myself rewriting this.) my father was ordained as a Catholic Deacon. I had started to compose a post about him the way I know him, but I was afraid it sounded a bit to angry, I just want this post to be about the snapshot of his moment not film archive of my life.

In a ceremony that lasted three hours, in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross that has no air conditioning, on an humid 83 degree day. My father walked into the building a regular man and walked out a certified servant of God with the title Deacon. This process has taken over four years.

Being a Deacon means he can do everything a priest does with the exception of three things, consecrating, this is the part of mass where the bread and wine are transformed into the flesh and blood of Christ. Formally this process is called transubstantiation (also one my friend Nicole’s favorite words). Secondly he can’t give absolution which is good because if I am feeling the need to confess anything it would probably be to much for him to handle. Lastly he can’t give last rites or the anointing of the sick as it’s called now. I am sure this is tied to absolution, they don’t want any one lower then a priest hading out the special Get Out of Hell Free cards.

The ceremony was presided over by the least favorite Catholic in the world, Cardinal Sean O’Malley who I served me communion (I think he cruised me). Out side of that the ceremony was beautiful. No one does pageantry like the Catholics do it. The procession to start the mass had about 200 people in it. The cathedral holds 3,000 people and from where I sat it looked full. 14 other men where ordained as well.

I am extremely happy for him for finally facing his fear and doing something I think he would have done sooner if he wasn’t so afraid of it. In a surprise to myself my pride came out in tears, I cried from the moment I saw him walk in his alb to the end when he left the church in his dalmatic. I actually cried more than my mother did.

As a Deacon he will be working out the his home parish Our Lady of the Assumption in Lynnfield, MA. You can see him give a homily any time you like. Much to my grandmother’s chagrin they tend to be a bit long winded. She told him she would prefer it if he kept it short.

Now I will answer the question: Oh my God it must be so hard for you, blagh blagh blagh. The answer is I don’t know if it’s hard or not, I don’t know anything else life has always been like this for me. Furthermore he and I aren’t the same person. I have my own mind I think for myself and as does he. And there is nothing in the church that says being gay is a sin it’s all the sex I’m having that’s a problem for them. We don’t talk about my sex life so we are fine.