Much to my sainted mother’s disappointment, I am not a

church-going girl. Not because she didn’t try with the whole tribe. Every one of

my brothers and sisters went to Catholic school. We attended church

regularly, a real feat considering the sheer number of us. We all attended

CCD (Catholic Childhood Education). It didn’t stick. Not with one of us.

Oh, we will go to church with Mom. We do the marryin’ and buryin’

circuit with proper respect. But when it comes to having faith, well it just

isn’t there.

I admire people with faith. My mother would not be who she is

without her faith. It has provided her solace in times of pain, joy and

celebration. I envy her faith … because I just don’t have it.

I have no problem with the Bible or the Ten Commandments; it is

just our human interpretation of them that I don’t buy. Must have been

those Bellevue schools I attended that heaped that healthy dose of

cynicism into me. The church I was raised in has so much baggage, err excuse

me, history, that my common sense keeps getting in the way. I was raised in

the era of civil rights and the women’s movement. The Pope in Rome

does not speak my language.

Someone who does speak my language is my cousin Jimmy. (OK,

second cousin, but that is another story.) Anyway, on Saturday, June 10,

little Jimmy (who ain’t so little anymore) took his vows for the priesthood at

St. James Cathedral in Seattle. Jimmy is more or less my age and has

certainly been exposed to similar experiences and schools of thought, and yet he

has chosen a path of faith. I am so proud.

The Mass of Ordination in the Holy Roman Catholic Church is

an amazing ritual. If Catholics do anything well, it is ceremonies and

the Ordination Mass has to be their favorite. Choir, symphonic

accompaniment, incense, candles and a procession

of the priests of the archdiocese (all in white) combine to make even the

most cynical observer humble. By combining the beauty of an ornately

carved gold Crucifix with the simplicity of a shepherd’s crook, the ceremony

put the emphasis where it belonged: on faith.

The ceremony was presided over by Archbishop Brunett and in his

homily he spoke of the power of love and the initiates’ duty to spread this

love wherever the need may be. (Jimmy is going to Tacoma.)

Of course Catholics do ceremonies well but they also do them long.

I made the mistake of sitting next to my brother Joe, who has about as

much piety and respect as Newt Gingrich. An Ordination Mass is for the

initiates, contrary to the all the pageantry. It

is a somber ceremony steeped in thousands of years of ritual. It about

killed my brother. This is a man who can watch sailboat racing on TV but

cannot sit still for 2 ½ hours.

I am sure he is black and blue from all the elbow nudges I gave to

him whenever he made a snide comment. Not that my sainted mother is any

better, what with giving my other brother a rundown on what all of my

cousins were doing for the last ten years when things were going slow. All and

all, our “heathen” side of the family

held it together long enough to see Jimmy don the robes of his new vocation.

Jimmy is a man who has graduated from college and had almost

a decade out in the “real world,” and

yet he felt a calling to a vocation to serve unflinchingly in subservience to

others. I cannot imagine the life of a priest in the year 2000. This is a man

who will spend the rest of his life guiding people in crisis. He is the one who

will be there in times of calamity, and the only tool he has is his faith in God.

There are no business hours or future stock options; there is only love –

love when you are sick, love when you are tired, love when you just don’t

care anymore. It is a daunting task and if anyone is up to it, it is James

Oran Johnson Jr. (Not that there are not perks. Now when his rowdy

twin younger brothers try to pound him it is a sin.)

And love has a way of paying you back tenfold for all you give.

Jimmy is overjoyed in his choice and the world certainly could use more

men like him. Welcome to the fold, Father Jim.

Kate Russell lives between

Carnation and Duvall. You can reach her at Katemo1@msn.com.