fly fishing

Dear family and friends,

There always was something magical about watching my brother Dan when he'd go fly fishing. But I never had a chance to learn, until this past summer, when providence plopped me at the northwestern tip of Yellowstone National Park.

But the outfitters charged $450 for a lesson! We didn’t have that type of money. There was Wal-Mart though. And YouTube.

$15 bought a rod, $10 a reel, $13 the line, $7 some flies, and $15 waders. $60 -  not bad, all in all.

Starting in the morning, it took about two hours to get the line and knots and fly assembled correctly, then three more hours of watching videos and practicing casting. By 3pm or so I figured I would give it a go in the real world.

Two priest friends dropped me off on the Gallatin River.

The first thing I caught was myself. Snagged the hook in my shirt. My dad used to joke about the “pre-tangled” rod he once bought. But fly fishing seemed like the kind of fishing where you had “self-tangling” line!

Taught by YouTube, I didn’t know if my casting was correct or not. But that didn’t matter. The ice-cold water rushed about my legs. (and through the holes in my waders.) Giant mountain peaks reared their green-mantled heads on either side of the twisting river valley. The setting sun glinted golden on the flowing water. Along the banks and in the water beneath my feet glistened polished rocks of every color of the rainbow. Tall grasses swayed and rustled in the fields on either side. The wind blew – at times serenely and at times in gusts – down the valley. “Heavenly” is the only word I can find to describe fly fishing there, whether I was doing things right or not.

I caught nothing. One fly disappeared in the stream, so I tied another to my line. Its little hook caught on my shirt and in my waders time after time.

Along came the priests who had dropped me off. “Would you want to try another part of the river,” they asked. I was having plenty of fun where I was, but thought there could be no harm in trying somewhere else. So we jumped in the car again, headed south, and this time they dropped me at Specimen Creek, a little brook that spilled into the Gallatin river. The creek was hard-going. Trees hung over both banks. At one point, my line got snagged 15-feet up a tree hanging over the creek. I had to climb the tree, jump out onto the limb, and pull it down with my body weight until the precious fly was safely dislodged.

As I stepped into the river again at the end of the creek, there were five minutes left until our rendezvous time. I pulled out my camera. “If I’m not going to catch anything, at least I want proof that I did go fly fishing,” I said to myself.

And so the camera started rolling. I put on a show, casting my very best, trying to set the fly ever-so-gently on the water in imitation of a real bug.

Then I saw a small silver thing jumping in the water. It was a fish. In disbelief, I realized that it was attached to my line! I reeled the little thing in as fast as I could. It wriggled and jumped and tried with all its might to escape. And escape it almost did, jumping from my hands several times.

But at last I got a hold of it. The little 8-inch rainbow trout eyed me with suspicion. I eyed him with exultation. My fishing trip had not been a complete failure!

Figuring that he had the greater part of his life ahead of him, I let my little friend go in the river, and headed happily back to the road.

The next day I went fly fishing in the same river, to the north. Sure enough, on one of my last casts another little silver thing started jumping out of the water. It was another rainbow trout, this time a 10-incher, just big enough for lunch. Never before has fish tasted so good. Tender, juicy, sweet, fall-off-the-bone goodness – he was all that and more.

God sure was loving me, inexperienced fly fisherman that I am. Only he could have made rainbow trout, and that jaw-dropping beauty, and the tremendous joy that filled my heart.

May He bless you,

Father Kevin

looking beyond the dreadlocks

the Cross of Saint Francis

Dear Family and Friends,

It was Divine Mercy Sunday. I had just finished hearing confessions at a parish about an hour from home. The gas gauge in my car read “E” – the red side of “E”.

So I pulled up at the first gas station I saw and reached for my wallet. But it wasn’t there! I had left it at home.

Luckily for me, there was quite a collection of change in the cup holder in the car. I counted it out – two dollars and eighteen cents in assorted pennies, nickels, quarters and dimes. Probably not enough to get home, but it might get me close, and then I could call for help. As I walked to the register, change in hand, there were all sorts of people about filling up their cars, but I noticed one man with fluffy dreadlocks in particular. “Wow,” I thought inside.

Feeling embarrassed about all the coins, I asked the lady at the register if she didn’t mind taking it all. She said she’d make do. Then, as I poured the coins into her little dish, I heard a voice over my shoulder. “Need some gas money?”

I turned, and gave a double take. It was the man with the fluffy dreadlocks. I hesitated and gave a whispered “Yes.” Immediately he took some money from his hand – enough to get me home – and placed it in my hand.

At this the cashier cheered up, as you can imagine I did. “Thank you,” I said. The man just nodded and smiled.

As soon as I got back to the car and started pumping the gas, I started searching for something to give him in gratitude. All I could find was a picture of the cross of Saint Francis blessed by Pope Francis. (Which I guess isn’t that bad a gift!) I brought it over to the man and he accepted it graciously, but humbly.

And I was left with two lessons. First, what a beautiful image of how kind and selfless and caring Our good Lord is and how he watches out for us! Second, it was a concrete lesson of how silly it is to judge by appearances. The man with the fluffy dreadlocks was the last one I thought would have helped me – he  was the kind of person I would have stayed away from. But the Lord “sees the heart”. Unlike us.

Well now I know. The heart is what matters. And this man had a heart of gold.

May God bless him, and God bless you!
Father Kevin

moments that make me smile

adoration with the first graders

Dear Family and Friends,

Last Friday the preschool students came to mass with all the other students at school. No one gave any warning, but I tried to make things as simple and short as respectfully possible.

It turns out that one little boy was quite anxious to go after about 5 minutes. “When will it be over?” he asked his teacher. “There’s just four more songs,” she replied. After each song he’d ask how many more were left. When he was down to one song, we had just finished with communion, and there’s usually a moment of silence. I like to sit down and close my eyes and pray a little. Apparently, upon seeing me do this, the little boy threw his hands up in the air. “Now he’s taking a nap!” he cried in dismay.

Another day, I was praying in the chapel at school while we had a special time of adoration of Jesus in the blessed sacrament. Each class took their turn in the chapel. The first graders, all 20 of them, marched right up close to the altar. Their teacher had them kneel on the step. Then they prayed two decades of the rosary. First she asked them what they wanted to pray for. Each one got to lead a Hail Mary. Then she told them to find a quiet place in the chapel to pray on their own.

I had my eyes closed again, but soon there were noises all about. It turns out a bunch of the first graders wanted to pray with me! Someone even got a picture.

So as a priest, you get both worlds. Sometimes you’re the hero, and sometimes you’re the… uh… guy who takes a nap! Either way it's a joy, and I still love being a priest!

May God bless you,

Father Kevin 

providence and pizza

praying the rosary in the Grotto at Notre Dame hours before the deep dish pizza experience

Dear Family and Friends,

“Hey, your car’s on fire!” shouted the man from the car beside me. It was mid-July and I was driving through downtown Chicago with a van full of boys headed for summer camp. And it did look like my car was on fire – smoke was pouring out of the engine.

So I searched around at the next stoplight, hoping to find a place to pull over. It was about dinnertime, and there in front of us it was: Giordano’s Pizza – Chicago Deep Dish. “Boys, I guess we’d better stop for dinner and let the car cool down.”

Boys being boys, all I heard from the back of the van were mock groans and complaints. “Gosh father, that’s just too bad,” one said, smiling.

It wasn’t bad for them, but as we sat at our table and I saw the bill starting to add up, it definitely looked bad for me. The deep dish pizza was excellent though, and well worth our half hour wait. Shortly after we had sat down, a man arrived by himself and sat at the table next to us. We were chitter chattering so much that I barely noticed him.

Our waiter was really interested in the priest at his table, so the questions were endless: “How long have you been a priest? Where are you pastor? What do you do? How long did it take you to become a priest? White Sox or Cubs fan?” – the whole nine yards.

By the time we finished our pizza, the man next to us had left and I was trying to calculate the bill in my head. I had declined the dessert menu in hopes of keeping it manageable.

That was when our waiter reappeared. “Oh, uh, you’re good to go. The man who sat next to you paid your bill and left me a nice tip, so you’re all set. Have a great day, Father!”

You should have seen the look on the boys’ faces. And mine too probably. I had been so worried. About the bill, and about the car. And out of the blue this kind stranger had taken care of worry #1. And when we got out to our car, we discovered the smoke was only coming from a finicky parking brake. Worry #2 taken care of.

Visiting the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Notre Dame earlier the same day

So often our worries consume us. We live with them tearing our insides apart. But worries are often just a large portion of pride dragging us down. We want things to work the way we want. And no other. I want my car to work, now. I want to eat deep dish pizza, and it better not cost much. J

The next time a worry comes your way, see it as an opportunity to trust, to abandon a little bit of your dominion over your life to God’s hands. I’m the first one who will admit that’s not easy, but you’d be surprised how well God figures things out, and how unfounded our worries often are.

May God bless you!

Father Kevin

heading to Rome this December

Dear Family and Friends,

This December I’ll be hosting a Father & Son pilgrimage to Rome (with a day trip to Assisi). We will see Pope Francis, visit all the most important holy places, and attend the ordination of 30 Legionary priests, many of whom are old friends of mine. If you or anyone you know is interested, here are some details, and you can see the flyer for more:

Dates: December 6-15, 2014

Price: $1775 All-inclusive (airfare, meals, lodging, transportation, entrance fees)

Highlights: Attend 3 events with Pope Francis, Visit Vatican City, Saint Peter’s Basilica, Sistine Chapel, Ancient Rome, Day trip to Assisi, Ordination of 30 Legionary Priests, The Catacombs

Contact: Cory Cusmano: 513-509-4339 cory.cusmano@accenture.com

Deadlines: $100 due by September 1, $1000 due by October 1, Full payment due November 15

We will be staying at my old seminary and traveling around mainly by foot. On the cobblestones! Can’t wait to be back in Rome.

Hope you are enjoying these last few weeks of summer, God bless you,

Father Kevin

a bigger family

soccer game in our backyard when it all hit me

Dear Family and Friends,

The other day I was playing soccer in our backyard with a group of boys. We were having a send-off party for a good friend, Father Timothy Walsh, who is heading on to a new assignment. I worked closely with him over the last year, and he has been a godsend of a mentor in more ways than one for this baby priest.

There were over a hundred people there in our backyard – quite the crowd!

Moments earlier, I had pulled out the soccer ball, and little by little it drew the boys in like a magnet. Before long we must have had a 10 on 10 game. Lots of fun, needless to say. After tiring myself out, I had taken the place of the goalie, and was watching the game. The boys ranged from 3-year-olds all the way through a few high school freshmen. Most of the little ones hadn’t really passed the “mob-ball” stage yet. They spent the game stealing the ball from their teammates and trying desperately to score. It was a lot of fun watching them, really.

Earlier that day, I had been thinking about one of the hard parts of being a priest. You take a vow of celibacy, and so you don’t get married. No wife. No kids. It was something I had to think long and hard about before I took that vow. Because, personally, I’d love to be married. I’d love to have a family. I know it wouldn’t be all fun and games – one sitting in the confessional makes that clear very quickly – but I do know that it would be very fulfilling, that it would fill a hole in my heart.

But I took the vow. And I became a priest. And I didn’t do that out of masochism, or a spirit of penance, or hoping that the rules would change. I did it because I believe God called me to be a priest. I did it because I believe that there is more to fatherhood than physical fatherhood alone. But there’s always been plenty of mystery to all this.

As I stood there in the goal, watching the boys play, God gave me a little more clarity. Simply put, I realized that these were my children. My family. My spiritual family. My spiritual children. And these were only a part. There are more than just the hundred that were there. Many of them go to the school where I’m chaplain and they call me father. Others I meet in my travels. Others I serve on retreats and summer camps.

If I were to have my own family - a physical one – I’d have as many children as God would give us (I always wanted to have lots!). Nine, maybe, like my mom and dad had, if I was lucky, But not a hundred! And the kids I was playing soccer with are wonderful kids, from wonderful, faith-filled families. I would do my best at parenting, but I doubt if any of my kids would turn out as good as these.

Get it? If I were physical father to some, then I couldn’t be spiritual father to all. After taking a vow of celibacy, God has given me more children, and better children, than I could ever have otherwise. It seems so contradictory, and you certainly don’t see it that way when you’re contemplating never walking down the aisle with Miss Right at your side.

Sure, my desire was, and is, to be married. But there is a greater reality. That hole in my heart is still there, but, to my surprise, there is One who fills it in a marvelous way.

It all doesn’t make sense at first glance, or even at the ten-thousandth glance… but for God it makes sense. And sooner or later, often little by little, God lets us see things His way. He gives us glimmers and moments of clarity that help us keep going.

Please pray for all priests, that we may be faithful to our vows, and that we make seek our wholeness from the only One who can truly give it – God Himself. His is the everlasting Romance.

May He bless you and your families,
Father Kevin

Carmel

Entrance to the Carmelite monastery of Piacenza, Italy. The plaque reads: "God gives His whole self to those who leave everything out of love for Him"

Dear Family and Friends,

A few years back I was traveling around northern Italy with another seminarian and we stopped to visit the Carmelite nuns in the town of Piacenza. They have a rather small and simple convent in the farmland outside town. At the time, Pope Benedict was in Brazil, taking part in World Youth Day.

Twelve or thirteen of the sisters welcomed us and we exchanged stories. I told the sisters about life in the seminary, studies, living in Rome near the Pope, and our recent vacation time. Then Mother Superior spoke about how the sisters had gone on “vacation”.

These were cloistered sisters – the ones who never leave the convent – so I raised my eyes at that. She went on to explain. That afternoon, all of the sisters had gotten together in the courtyard of the convent. One of them, an artist, had drawn a huge picture of Pope Benedict in his airplane. Then they all sat in chairs and pretended to fly with him to Brazil for World Youth Day. They sang songs and a few of the sisters pretended they were stewardesses. They also prayed the rosary with the pope en route. During their explanation, the sisters were laughing and giggling as if they had just gotten back from Disneyland.

At this point, both of us seminarians had our mouths hanging open. The sisters were so joy-filled and happy as they explained the whole thing to us. And their “vacation” must have lasted no more than an hour. Wow!

We listened, breathlessly, as another sister chimed in: “Oh yes, and we had a special surprise. The family of one of the sisters gave us all ice cream!”

I was speechless. To be honest, only a little while back I had been complaining about how I didn’t like the place where my seminary went on vacation. Hearing the sisters talk about theirs with such simple delight sure nipped that in the bud!

It was a tremendous testimony to how simple things can bring such tremendous joy. I’d be willing to bet that the sisters' afternoon “vacation” was a hundred times more enjoyable than the vacations many people have at five-star resorts.

As you start or finish your vacation this summer – or even just wish you had one! – take a moment to thank God for the simple things, the simple joys he gives you. Life is full of them. Be content with them. Joy is something you can’t buy. You find it in places that aren’t advertised on travel websites.

Today is the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Mary is the perfect example of someone who had nothing, but really had everything –“My soul magnifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior”.

May she watch over you all this summer,
Father Kevin LC

PS I just finished helping out at my third summer camp. Here’s a video I made for the last one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emO3xGQeugE . They were lots of fun, but I am still pretty tired. Thanks be to God, we had no broken bones and no lost children. Now it’s on to preparing for the new school year!