Times, They Aren't A-Changing

When I was a young Baguette, I knew a young man who knew a young priest. That young priest was a Catholique like me, not an Episcopalian like my college friend. Once you met him, you could not forget him. Like many a fellow with Irish roots, he was handsome, a wit, and a man of mischief. His pastor, his bishop, his archbishop appreciated the joy he spread about him. Now you'd think that his would be an easy life. You'd be mistaken. Whenever this usually merry young priest encountered a wrong, he determined to fix it. And he'd take on the authorities who appeared to be responsible. In the end, he usually won his battles, and in the process became a hero to many. And in the process, he drove his pastor, his bishop, and his archbishop crazy, absolutely crazy. Shall we ignore the effect he had on government officials?

I recently encountered the young man who knew this young priest. Naturally, I asked about him. It seems he was sent off to an extremely rural area for rest and recuperation. During the week, he follows the orders of his doctors, but then the weekends come. Here's what he does. He takes off for an even more rural area where he celebrates Mass at a Catholic church with a small but fussy ethnic population. He then goes down the street to the Episcopalian church. They have no priest, so he celebrates Mass Episcopalian style there. Who is he driving crazy now? Perhaps the authorities of both the Catholic and Episcopalian churches.

Since he hasn't changed, he remains my hero. And don't ask me where all this is taking place, because I don't know. Our mutual friend won't tell.