Where Have All Our Catholic Men Gone?

I have thought a lot about the so called "Catholic 'Man-Crises" that our Church is presently faced with.

I ponder the dilemma because I am, by nature, a problem solver. As I am out in the world, I am usually on a fact-finding mission related to one thing or another in an attempt to resolve something. For now, I am watching the goings-on at the Church. I am counting heads. I am listening to the men who represent our faith: past, present and future. I have good news! We are going to be better than fine.

I was reminded of this only after I re-read the words of our Lord to His disciples this morning: “For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst.” Despite the temporary peak in our pop culture's embrace of the secular ideas or tendency to reject all forms of religious faith and worship, many men (and women) continue to gather in Christ’s name. And our Lord continues to keep his promise to us. He is in our midst!

I see this more and more now that I am paying attention. I have a delightful boy in my Faith Formation class. His name is Jonathan. He often shares with us the formation of his faith through the experiences he has at home with his family. There, too, is a man in our parish, late 50's, a "Marlon Brando type", who after receiving the Eucharist, genuflects pressing two fingers to his lips and blows a kiss up at the crucifix. He does this at every Mass he attends.

These are but a few ways that I see our men engaged in their Catholic faith. I have written this poem to honor our Catholic men:

Grandmother

Blessed are you who brush dust
from the eyes of the Madonna;
wiping her porcelain face free
of our detritus with your hair.

Blessed is the man who strains
to hear the echo of your voice
as it was once raised in prayer;
blessed, too is he who summons
the memory of this aged woman
to his beside: Rosary in her lap,
Hail Mary on her lips, she is determined
to give you this one thing.

Blessed are you who will never forget
where you came from; will never forget
that it was she who walked ten thousand
miles on her knees to bring you here,
to offer a kiss of gratitude upon the cross
on which He hangs.