The Deacon

It had been around six months since we had last attended liturgy at our former Byzantine Catholic parish. We made a conscience decision to go on this particular Sunday for one reason: to show our recognition and support for the retired deacon who was celebrating both his 90th birthday and over half a century as a deacon at the parish. He always told us our boys were such a blessing and had welcomed our family from the very beginning when we started to attend the church. I can't say how many times he has invited us over to his house after liturgy and we have never taken him up on it.

The deacon was sitting with his family in a front pew next to the center aisle when we came in. As my family slid into the pew opposite them I approached the icon on the stand in front of us and kissed it in the traditional manner. When he recognized me he startled with a little exclamation and stood up. When I turned to him he shook my hand, clearly pleased to see us again in the little church he has served for so many decades.

I didn't know either of the priests presiding that day. The young priest who had been our pastor for two years had been transferred to another location and the Byzantine bishop had brought in yet another young one to be trained here as he had decided that our community was the place for them to be broken in. The homily was given by a middle-aged priest who it turned out had been the previous pastor prior to our arrival when we moved to the area. He specifically came back to honor the deacon who had taken him and his family under his wing since they were in a new land learning to navigate a different language and customs (remember, in the Eastern rite Catholic priests can marry as long as they do so before ordination). It was a great tribute to a pillar of the parish.

After the liturgy we chatted with the deacon and his wife. They invited us to the event later in the day in his honor but we declined as it would both be a bit awkward since we had switched parishes and hadn't been seen for a half year and we wanted to take the kids where they could get outside and on a splash pad and into a sandpit to enjoy the summer day. It was actually a bit emotional for me in talking to him as his affection for my family was so touching. Once again he invited us to his house and once again I put it off – this time not to distract or interfere due to the event later in the day in his honor. However, the next time we go back to liturgy there I will ask the deacon when it will be a good time to pay he and his wife a visit at their house. I only hope this happens before God calls him to His house.