Koukla!

During church, I hear my daughter chant the harmonies of all of the hymns of our church throughout the whole service. It soothes my spirit in the midst of my sadness. I see the newly baptized, little baby girl being held by her daddy looking at everyone behind her with alert and innocent eyes. The proud grandpa kisses his cherished little granddauhter. Our priest gives communion to every single person in line. He doesn't allow our deacon to join him this time because he "selfishly" wants to not miss anyone. Many people look how I feel, kind of emotionally spent, kind of worried, and kind of lonely. Tears in lots of people's eyes. The altar boys come out from behind the altar...a brotherhood of servants. A little girl with wide eyes unabashedly kisses her tall daddy's cheeks while his face gets all squinched up.

The very young children don't know what is happening, so they are as happy as ever. The older people seem to have more of a look of grim determination. They've lost priests before, but even they feel sad.

This is our last Sunday for our priest to officially serve as OUR priest.

Tobias asks quietly,"Can you believe this is the last time we'll see Father."

I say, "Oh no. We'll see him. We'll go visit him in Houston, and he'll visit Austin sometimes, too. I guarantee this is not the last time we'll see him."

"Well, this is the last time he'll be at our church as OUR priest," his voice trails off.

In order to make both of us feel better, I insist, "No, he'll always be our priest, but yeah, I know what you mean. It is really sad."

Tobias wonders, "Well, do you think our church will still be here when I grow up?" Some of the security he feels about our church must be temporarily crumbling with the leaving of our priest. I tell him with great confidence, "Of course! It will definitely still be here."

"Well, we're talking 30 years from now. Will it still be here, then?"

"Oh yeah, there are churches that have been here for hundreds of years."

I should have told him that Christ's church has been here for 2000+ years, but I knew he was thinking about our physical church here in Austin. So that's where my mind was, too.

"Well, will there still be some of the same people at our church?" I told him there would. "Will I get to be an usher then? Don't I have to be voted onto the parish council to do that? How much longer will dad be on the parish council? Will you try to get on the council when dad finishes?"

All of Tobias's questions reflect his uneasiness about losing the rock of our church, our beloved priest.

I was blessed to have confession with Father yesterday. He told me that our bishop refers to our church as a "Koukla", which is an affectionate Greek word for a sweet young girl who is a doll. Father said that as beautiful as our physical church is, the people of our church are even more beautiful and our bishop knows this. Hearing this term of endearment from our ex-Marine bishop to describe our church made my heart soften towards him. "Koukla" does fit our church quite well because we are a young parish. There is a liveliness and a sweetness in our church which I'm so grateful for. Koukla!

Today during his homily, Father talked about three widows in our community who quietly gave $250,000 of their money in order to start our parish. He talked about how they invested what they had for something that would last...our church, something that would help so many people...our church.

Something that would last until Christ's return.....our church.

Such a perfect thing to say for Tobias, for me, for all of us as we go through this insecure time without a priest.

Father thoughtfully made a point to hug every single person at church today on our way out which further demonstrated the kind of individual care he gave to all of us. What a kind parting gift. My older friend, Koula, watched him and said, "I'll be happy if we can just get a priest half as good as him. Our loss is Houston's gain."

I know it won't be easy for him and his family as they are in a brand new place with added pressure, but I have confidence that he and his family will bring new energy, love, and light to this older parish in Houston. I believe their presence will cause the Houston church to become a little more like a Koukla.

And we, as a church, will continue on until the second coming of Christ.