Reflections on Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
Mother Nature provided somewhat windy but otherwise unseasonably near perfect weather Saturday, November 29. People had driven or flown in from states near and far to be a part of the final salute to a native son who had risen from the rank and file Christians to be an overseer of priests, as the Greek term episkopein expresses episcopus or bishop.
Both outside and inside the church, it was obvious from the outset that the religious mindset of the church members was that old-time, dyed-in-the-wool Catholic culture that permeated their demeanor, their smile, their greeting and their words. Equally, processing into the church and recessing out of the church, they were eager to touch or shake hands.
At the top of their skill set, the men’s choir did the honors for the homegoing of Bishop Leonard Olivier, singing for the processional and recessional “Lead Me, Guide Me,” the hymn whose opening words are the motto on his episcopal coat of arms. It was the same hymn sung as the processional at his episcopal ordination on Dec. 10, 1988.
“’Lead Me, Guide Me’ was the appropriate slogan that expressed exactly who Bishop Olivier was and how he served his people,” said Bishop Glen J. Provost of the Diocese of Lake Charles who was the principal celebrant and homilist for the Mass of resurrection. “He was a humble man of uncommon character and a willingness to serve.”
Both Sacred Heart Church deacons were at the altar. Senior Deacon Edward Lavine read the Gospel and recently-ordained Deacon Erroll DeVille read the Prayer of the Faithful. So, in its own way, Sacred Heart Church is still producing vocations, giving hope  that someday other nuns – there have been a half dozen – and other priests will be called.
In fact, present at the Mass were also Robert and Roxanne Boxie, Jr., Sacred Heart regulars whose son, Robert Boxie III is completing his theological studies at the Pontifical North American College housed at the Casa Santa Maria in Rome, and is set to be ordained in October. Robert’s ordination should be a spark for other vocations at Sacred Heart. It is noteworthy that Robert is the first from Sacred Heart to study and be ordained in Rome.
Bishops concelebrating at the altar were James Terry Steib, SVD, of Memphis; Curtis John Guillory, SVD, of Beaumont; Dominic Carmon, SVD, retired, New Orleans; Martin David Holley of Washington D.C. and Shelton Joseph Fabre of Houma-Thibodaux.
The first five pews opposite the pulpit side were occupied with 28 priests, including SVD Southern Provincial Superior Father Paul Kahan, outgoing Provincial Father James Pawlicki, a generous sprinkling of SVD priests from area churches, plus a sampling of Josephites, a representative of the Norbertines, and diocesan priests such as Father August Thompson.
Congregational Leader Greta Jupiter, SBS was present with Sister Laura Mercier, and Sister Joseph Ann Gillett, of the New Orleans Sisters of the Holy Family flock.
Driven by a loving and reverent sweet melancholy, the women and men of Sacred Heart milled around as we filed out of Mass, huddled together, then milled around again at Sacred Heart Cemetery, and finally broke bread together at Sacred Heart Hall where the warm camaraderie was constantly in evidence and lingered until 4 p.m. There was an overwhelming atmosphere of faith, hope and Godly love in the extended faith family. My cousin, Rev. Randy LeDoux, could not get enough of the camaraderie and congeniality.
“Can any good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked Philip in John 1:45 when Philip told him, “We have found the one about whom Moses wrote in the law, and also the prophets, Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” Can any good come from Lake Charles? Yes, a lot has, as well as SVD Fathers John LaBauve, Joseph and Ray Guidry of Abbeville, Bishops Terry Steib of South Vacherie, Curtis Guillory of Mallet, and Dominic Carmon of Gradney Island.
Amid dazzling photos from Bishop Leonard Olivier’s priestly ordination in 1951, his surviving siblings, Theresa (Ninie) and Edward, basked in the afterglow of their brother’s heroic stint as God’s special servant, and his holy transit into our Father’s kingdom. Edward again, “There will be a mighty celebration up there! What a time we will have with God!”
Many alumni seminarians, who wondered why Bishop Olivier had not attended the most recent annual October alumni gathering in Bay St. Louis, Miss., were there in force with still other alumni. Massing together after the interment prayers, they boomed forth the Salve Regina, the same daily evening prayer song led by Prefect Olivier at St. Augustine Seminary. Initiated by a teary Deacon Lavine, it took all thoughts back decades.
“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)

Reflections on Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
“People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.” Of spurious origin, that old dictum has been interpreted in various ways. One common understanding is that people should not criticize in others some fault that they see in themselves. Another is that people who are in a vulnerable, fragile situation should not engage in destructive actions.
In any case, the axiom’s relevance is not lost on news analysts, reporters, NOW (the National Organization for Women) and people at large who are up in arms about spousal violence in the National Football League. For days the talk of the nation, virtually everyone is hot and bothered over the antics of Ray Rice, Adrian Peterson, Ray McDonald and others.
But, while 69 percent of Americans think that the NFL has a widespread epidemic of domestic violence problems, official arrest numbers for domestic violence by NFL players are less than half the arrest numbers for the general population. This ignorance amid the public of the facts of domestic violence is part of the problem. The media and the public blithely mouth clichés about the NFL’s being a major expression of America’s culture of violence, and yet the public at large is guilty of even more violence. Oh, those glass houses!
No one doubts that our ambient culture of violence is the main stage on which acts of violence take place. Yet, the individual elements that spark violence are usually an unruly will to control another, a tit-for-tat attempt at revenge for something said or done, anger at another’s opinions or attitude that conflicts badly with one’s own way of thinking. Some folks simply refuse to be content with agreeing to disagree about anything.
After a slap on Ray Rice’s wrist that created severe backlash, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell got tough, declaring a new policy of a six-game suspension for a first offense and a lifetime ban for a second offense. Subsequently, the Baltimore Ravens summarily released Rice. But should professional sports have a violence code that does not reflect the status of the general population and of organizations like law enforcement in particular?
Something is grossly wrong with all these maneuvers. If police officers, who are much more frequent domestic violence offenders than professional athletes are, are not fired and often not even taken to task for spousal abuse, why are athletes being cut off from their livelihood?
Plastered all over TV news, dozens of actors, actresses, vocalists and sundry entertainers are shown in mind-blowing episodes of fury and violence. Why are they not punished by the same fickle public who self-righteously want to punish athletes?
Now don’t get me wrong, folks! Some kind, some measure of effective punishment should be meted out to both amateur and professional athletes who engage in spousal abuse. However, the waters and solutions are left murky by the prevalence of domestic violence in the general population at a rate more than twice as frequent as in sports.
High-profile people such as superstar entertainers, actors and professional athletes definitely live in glass houses. However, so does an even higher percentage of the clueless people at large, since their percentage of spousal abuse is more than two times higher than the percentage in the National Football League, Major League Baseball, the National Basketball Association, the National Hockey League and the world of entertainment.
It may come as a shock to learn that domestic violence is highest among members of police families. On a heavily-footnoted information sheet, the National Center for Women and Policing notes, “Two studies have found that at least 40 percent of police officer families experience domestic violence, in contrast to 10 percent of families in the general population.” Even a study among older and more experienced officers still registered a 24 percent higher incidence than among the general population.
To make matters worse, cases of domestic violence by police officers are regularly swept under the rug because of wayward, lawless influences like blind solidarity among police officers and uninformed, unethical politics of civil authorities and even judges.
In pure irony, the very group of law enforcement people to whom battered women must run for refuge and help are trained fighters and killers plagued by a high incidence of domestic violence in their own families. On a similar note, military-trained fighters and killers have a very similar rate of incidence of spousal violence in military families.
In our search for gentleness and peace, we should follow the Man himself depicted in Isaiah 42:3, “Here is my Servant whom I uphold, my chosen one with whom I am pleased.  Upon him I have put my spirit… He will not cry out, nor shout… A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench. He will faithfully bring forth justice.”
For sure, people who live in glass houses should keep their clothes on. “God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)
(Editor’s note: October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.)

Reflections on life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
Watching the evening news several days ago, I flashed a big smile when I saw more than 50 commuters in Perth, Australia, rush up and swarm a subway car. It took mere moments for the crowd to merge as one, slamming their bodies into the car and pushing it sideways with all their might, widening by just a smidgen the 2-inch gap between the platform and the subway coach.

A careless rider, who had stepped into the 2-inch crack in a distracted moment, could not extract his foot. While a car conductor waved frantically to the engineer not to start the car moving again, the coach did give way enough for the Good Samaritans to pull the errant foot out.

There is a wonderful side of us that drives us to the aid of people in distress such as the many New Orleanians trapped by the devastating water pouring through levees broken by the winds and waters of Hurricane Katrina on Aug. 29, 2005. Again, one had to smile, thrilling to the news that Good Samaritans in light and medium watercraft grabbed extra fuel and provisions and sped along the Texas and Louisiana Gulf Coast up the Mississippi River to New Orleans.

As the waters receded, New Orleans native and Vietnam veteran Armand (Sheik) Richardson and the Arabi Wrecking Crew helped with the grassroots rebuilding, handling the demolition and/or mold cleaning of buildings for several years into the regional recovery.

It is always cheering and inspiring to see videos of the selfless, fearless, generous and sometimes daring assistance and rescues of people in wrecked vehicles along our roads, some even engulfed in flames. At times it is a lone individual dashing to the scene with bare hands or with a fire extinguisher, and at other times it is two or more forcing open the doors and defying the smoke and flames with little or no regard for their own safety and physical integrity.

In these times of widespread television and social media, it is amazing how often we view such daring and generosity while it is actually happening. We have reality TV at its best, chronicling stirring events that rise above the usual and the everyday, confirming the timeless adage, “truth is stranger than fiction.”

Every tornado, hurricane, earthquake, flood or widespread disaster presents us with an opportunity for altruism, bravery, generosity and daring to sally forth despite considerable and usually dangerous obstacles that block our path toward those in peril and need. It cheers our hearts that heroes and heroines abound and willingly make themselves available to everyone.

For many of us, the most resounding composite example of all this was 9/11 when all others were streaming down the stairs in sheer panic while 343 New York firefighters and 60 police were making their way up the stairs, ostensibly rushing to stare pain and death in the face.

Yet, with our great innate kindness, there is a loathsome side of us that we are reluctant to describe as our innate meanness, as witnessed by the crowd gathered in front of a tall building with a suicidal 17-year-old threatening to jump. Derby, England, was the venue in this particular case. However, similar episodes have occurred in countries all over the world.

“Jump! Jump! Jump!” urged some from a crowd of 300 gathered below. Can you imagine what this did to the spirit of Shaun Dykes, depressed by a recent relationship breakup and teetering atop the 6-story building? At length, driven by the taunting, he hurled himself down to immediate death on the unforgiving concrete.

An offensive penchant for evil rears its ugly head in looters like the Ferguson, Missouri, lot. Chaos is their name; anarchy is their shame; plunder is their blunder. Such looting follows hot in the wake of a storm or other disaster such as the Northeast blackout of Nov. 9, 1965, when widespread looting and other mischief hit some of the darkened sections of New York. An unspoken belief in all walks of life is that, unless someone sees you, you can get away with evil.

Truth to tell, each step of our life is a medieval morality play redux in which we freely choose which role we will take and live out for the moment. While most of our days, hours and minutes are humdrum and nothing to write home about, we do have a flashy moment here and there. It must be noted that those humdrum minutes, hours, days and years are the most critical times of our lives because they comprise by far the bulk of the time allotted to us here.

Hence, flashes of heroism are not the main menu, but only a special dish, the outgrowth of our character forged in the cauldron of dull, hard, tiresome, oft dreary hours, days and years far too numerous to count. With the forging of our character must come vibrant spirituality, our indispensable link with the eternal, transcendent Being on whom we claim to be all-dependent.

“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)

(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)

Reflections on Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
The earthy, mercenary lust for gold, silver and precious stones drove prospectors to the California Forty-niners gold rush and the Klondike gold rush, and it pushed conquistadores from the Old World to risk everything – even life – in their quest for cities of gold in the New World.
It made no difference that mushrooming gold rush towns were rife with crime and immorality.
Changed only in venue and outer appearance, the gold rush syndrome lives today and thrives in virtually every corner of the planet. Mercenaries of every stripe abound in every nation and in all human activities. We have come to expect the gold rush multimillions routinely tossed about in negotiations and contracts of the National Basketball Association, the National Football Association, Major League Baseball, professional golf, hockey, soccer and entertainment.
Oddly, those outsized salaries are frequently dwarfed by multimillion-dollar endorsements made by famous athletes like Michael Jordan who continue raking in the megabucks decades after their heyday as athletes and retirement from the battlefield of world-class competition.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” is the chant that describes but a small part of all that goes on in the erstwhile dusty townlet of the western desert that became Glitter City built on the human hunger and thirst to derive great profit from as little outlay as possible. But, lo, in magic Atlantic City and thereabouts, big names like Showboat Atlantic City and Trump Plaza Hotel and Casino are set to close within two months, mainly due to tough regional competition.
With all that, the gold rush fever sometimes invades, undermines and destroys our most  intimate and precious relationships in marriage, among family members, and with our friends. We even call those involved in such relationships gold diggers, because their mind is never far from lucre and gain.
Mark 8:36-37 extends the challenge of a stiff rebuke to people who drop all other interests and go all out for the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, “What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? What could one give in exchange for his life?”
A few days ago, an extraordinary rendition of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” stopped me in my tracks and lifted my mind and emotions to a place beyond the everyday reach of our human understanding. Although it is frequently symptomatic of lazy distractions, daydreaming is a not uncommon subconscious indication of a transcendent longing of our hearts and minds.
Yearning and imagination fog the stardust and physical allures of people like Judy Garland who seem to have so much more of the good life than most of us have. But there seems to be an inverse relation of the good life to real transcendent values in perhaps most of those who are gifted with the good life. In other words, the good life does not deliver what its goods claim to embody. The more the good life is present, the less true values and happiness seem to thrive.
Whether the near mystical transport of our human being results from hallucinatory drug  accelerants or from a clear mind uncluttered by drugs of any kind, the end product is invariably a most desirable place tantalizingly beyond our mortal grasp. Thus, we have a contradictory huge attraction to the divine and simultaneously to the vanity of human longing for worldly things.
Our longing for the spiritual wonderland beyond all earthly barriers must be stronger than the terrible condition of the world summed up by St. John the Evangelist in 1 John 2:16-17, “All that is in the world, lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not from the Father but is from the world. Yet the world and its enticement are passing away. But whoever does the will of God remains forever.” Sadly, we remain suckers for what is so obviously passing away.
However, the proverbial pot of gold may not be conventional gold at all for some blessed people whose “gold” in life is something even more precious. For instance, true friends are worth more than gold, and, of course, our relatives should be worth even more than that, although such is, tragically, not always the case. Relatives are often the gold unappreciated until they are gone.
“Somewhere over the rainbow… dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.” The lyrics go on to portray the intense desire to see clouds and troubles melt away. However, ironies demonstrate that the lack of clouds spell troubles in lands stricken by severe drought. Not every cloud is your enemy. Not every blue sky or Easy Street day is your friend. At times the hot cauldron of hardship and pain forges your mind, heart and soul into a fit instrument of service.
Our dreams must far exceed the worldly parameters of the so-called American dream. Of itself, that dream is earthy, hard limited by some decades of time, and too easily conducive to an attitude of selfishness, snobbishness, attachment to material things, and a drift away from God.
The stellar intellect of St. Augustine shares with us, “Our hearts are restless, oh God, and they will never find rest until they rest in you.” Augustine shares again, “Too late have I known you, Beauty so ancient yet so new!”
“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)

Reflections On Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
“There’s a 911 going off all around the Catholic Church, especially in the black part of the Church. But few people seem to be listening to the 911. It is noted that one in three Catholics is no longer practicing. Former altar boys or altar girls, former Eucharistic ministers and lectors are now part of some megachurch, Pentecostal church or no church. Amazingly, the number of former Catholics is sufficient to form the third-largest U.S. denomination.
“Most distressing of all, late-teenage and young adult Catholics are those most conspicuous for their absence. We are losing them at an alarming rate because we are not breaking the Word open to them. Our prayers, worship and life are not filled with the driving power of the Holy Ghost, so that people leave church in the same sad shape they entered it.
“Before walking out of church on Sunday, all of us need an attitude adjustment and a greater quickening of the Holy Ghost. But some of us need a transfusion, minor surgery or varying degrees of medical care, while others need open-heart surgery or, in some cases, a heart transplant. Serious head adjustment, nerve and/or emotional treatment is in order for many before they casually walk out the door as if everything were all right with them and the world.”
These words came pouring out of the mouth of evangelist/revivalist Msgr. Ray East, pastor of St. Teresa of Avila Church in Washington, D.C. He was busy bringing the fire of the Holy Ghost to St. Anthony Parish, housed in a smallish church in Dallas. Six of us from Our Mother of Mercy Church in Fort Worth had motored there to join in the revival. He observed that few churches are catching the fire of the Holy Spirit, and, without that fire, they will be lifeless, purposeless failures.
With an almost continuous smile, his eyes, ivories and his striking demeanor showed clearly that he was enjoying, savoring each greeting, every word, each prayer, every reading of the liturgy, rocking, gesturing and clapping to the beat and lyrics of each song rendered by the dynamic, powerful blended choir of St. Anthony and Holy Cross Churches.
Wearing Texas boots, Monsignor Ray removed them ostentatiously in the midst of his homily and placed them standing next to the pulpit. He did not put them on again until shortly before the Consecration. Wandering over much of the church like a peripatetic preacher, he made certain that he engaged as many individuals as he could.
Later, he explained that removing ones shoes before entering a house is common in the East, but especially when entering an area that is considered a holy place, much as when Moses approached the burning bush.
And, not surprisingly, I had that familiar feeling during the progression of the liturgy, music and homily that we were indeed standing on holy ground. As he spoke, the words of the song came to mind, “We are standing on holy ground, and I know that there are angels all around. Let us praise Jesus now.”
Yes, and the Holy Spirit was indeed moving and hard at work. In their now smiling, now pensive, now troubled, now joyful, now explosive demeanor, the sisters and brothers throughout the church resonated Msgr. East’s infectious presence and spirited proclamation of the Word, his on-fire sharing of the Word in his homily, and his highly personal rendition of each segment of the liturgy. It was an obvious reenactment of the legendary Last Supper.
“In order to reach our St. Teresa of Avila Church in D.C., many of our church members have to pass by megachurches and a number of Catholic parishes. They have to WANT to come to our church service! And that is what all of us must do. We must so conduct our lives and our church service that people will WANT to come to us and be a part of our Faith Family.”
The afterglow, of course, and the follow-up by the folks attending a church service are the proof whether the action and interaction of the service have been faith-driven, Spirit-filled and live to the point where minds and hearts are changed for the better, negative stress is relieved or removed, pain and sorrow are more bearable and our lives become more livable.
That afterglow and follow-up were evident as we repaired to the hall for a light repast. The happy, buzzing beehive atmosphere was that of the Agape gatherings of the early Christians.
“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)

Reflections on Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech all who attended will never forget. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question.
“When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?”
The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. “I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.” Then he told the following story.

“Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, ‘Do you think they’ll let me play?’ I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
“I approached one of the boys on the field and asked – not expecting much – if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, ‘We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.’

“Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
“In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

“However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground.
“The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head.

“Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, ‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!’ Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.  Everyone yelled, ‘Run to second, run to second!’ Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.

“By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions. So he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

“All were screaming, ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way, Shay!’ Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, ’Shay, run to third!’ As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, ‘Shay, run home! Run home!’ Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.”

“That day,” the father said softly with tears now rolling down his face, “the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.
“Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!”

If you are anything like me, this curious little episode did to you what it did to me, causing mist in my eyes, a tightness in my throat, and stiffness in the hairs of my skin. Deep down, we want everyone to be a winner in this life and in our glorious life to come.
“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.”   (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)