When your bishop can’t attend Confirmation
The New Testament is loaded with references to lambs, shepherds and flocks. Jesus, apparently, knew a bit about the ovine business. But it seems safe enough to say most American Catholics know very little about sheep.
It also seems safe enough to say that most of us lay people know very little about the life of a bishop. We know he doesn’t have problems with the in-laws. No nights are spent pacing the hall rocking a sleepless infant or staying up late waiting for the turn of a teenager’s key in the lock.
We don’t bump into him at the local supermarket. We suspect he spends little time shopping for clothes. We know his home turf is the cathedral but few of us make time for a visit. We’re not sure who his boss is. It could be the pope or perhaps, even God himself.
Our best guess is that maybe the bishop lives a life similar to that of a CEO of a large corporation — busy, busy, busy with lots of business-related travel involved.
I was nearly 20 before I even touched a sheep that wasn’t presented on a plate as part of a meal. In New York City where I grew up, there were few opportunities to get to know livestock up close and personal. Yet despite my limited experience with sheep, I suspect the flock must get rather needy when lambing time comes around, seeking its shepherd, just as pregnant women near delivery feel dependent on their birth attendants.
For our church flock, lambing time happens when we witness our young people complete the last sacrament of initiation on their confirmation day. Then we, the laity, do know that despite all that we don’t know about our bishop we get to see him in our home parish for that liturgy.
But this isn’t always the case. A monsignor recently confirmed my niece. Two years ago, in the same New Jersey parish, a visiting bishop from the Caribbean anointed her older sister.
At first blush, asking for the bishop to attend our confirmations seems like a small request. The ceremony occurs only once a year. The date can be planned months in advance.
To have the bishop on premises nicely decked out in red with his shepherd’s crook and miter really improves the visuals for the event. The impact of a monsignor is just not the same. To part with this tradition is hard.
Yet our dioceses are large and frequently encompass more than a hundred parishes that are spread out over several counties.
Archdioceses dwarf even those numbers, consisting of hundreds of parishes, many counties and millions of the faithful — although they have auxiliary bishops on staff.
Lacking Superman’s power to travel faster than a speeding bullet, getting the bishop to the church on time doesn’t come easy.
So what’s to be done? Centralize the location, perhaps. Let us travel to the cathedral rather than have the bishop travel to us. More information could improve things, too. When the bishop can’t be there, an official statement that included some expression of regret would help ease the disappointment.
Familiarity can breed contempt or understanding. It may feel sheepish to express this desire for our shepherd, but it’s not bah humbug.
Hopefully, our bishops note the importance of their presence at confirmation in the eyes of the flock and we lambie-kins should note the difficulty inherent in achieving this boon to which we feel entitled.
Caroline Calogero can be reached at ccalogero@comcast.net.
*The attached/referenced article was originally published in The Catholic Spirit, the official newspaper of the Diocese of Metuchen, and is protected under U.S. and international copyright law