Posted: June 14

Eloquent gestures

(St. Louis) Sunday was the first time in years that I watched the "Tony" awards on television, probably the first time that I ever watched the whole program. Tonys are given to Broadway plays, and several of my Jesuit friends in St. Louis teach theater. So six friends gathered in one of the communities to watch the award show. I have not seen any of the plays that were up for the award; I have not been in New York all year. And even when I did live there in the early 80s while studying design, I spent my free time going to art museums not going to the theater. But it was fun to watch all three hours of the program because of the conversation that flowed through the evening.

At one point Bob Poirier got out an old photo album from our days in the novitiate in the mid 60s. Everyone was so much thinner, and had so much more hair (both on the head and on the face). I talked a lot with Dick Perl who spent two years teaching with me down in Belize at St. John's College. He and I helped with the Friday morning liturgies with the students. He has a strong voice and I could pound out a steady rhythm on the guitar. Students always helped us, but we two were the basis of the music. And when we got going we could get the 400 students to fill the chapel with music. None of it was especially refined, but it had lots of energy.

I remembered those days during the ordination ceremony on Saturday that followed the province convocation that brought me to St. Louis. Two men were ordained priests. During the Mass, Dick and I sat next to each other and took part in the solemn ritual as each concelebrant imposed his hands on the heads of the newly ordained priests after the bishop first performed this action. I was ordained a year before Dick who invited me to vest him with the chasuble (an honor for me) at his ordination and then stand by his side during his first Mass. My job was to point out what he should do next and stop him if he started to do something wrong. Actually, he was well prepared and not that nervous, much less than I had been a year before.

On Sunday I went to the first Mass of Hung Trung Pham, a 36-year old Jesuit who was born in Vietnam and then emmigrated with his family to the United States in 1985. He had a stellar career at Denver's Regis College (an athletic scholarship for the tennis team, academic honors) before entering the novitiate in 1993. Since then he has amassed a number of degrees, taught in one of our high schools and worked with refugees in Burma. He seemed very calm at his first Mass, but he had my good friend Mike Harter standing by his side at the altar; that brought back memories of my standing by Dick's side. Most of the Mass was in Vietnamese with one reading and some prayers in English. Hung composed some of the songs the choir sang (he is a good photographer as well). His homily was in both Vietnamese and English, and he spoke beautifully of trusting in God's providence. The most eloquent moment came at the very end of the liturgy, after all of the thank-you's. He walked down to the main aisle and kneeled down in front of his parents to receive their blessing. His father silently and solemnly prayed over him as he placed his hands on Hung's head. Then his mother placed her hands on his head briefly before kneeling down before him. The two of them embraced spontaneously in a beautiful gesture that spoke volumes. I had not understand any of the Vietnamese words spoken during the Mass, but their gesture needed no translation.