as 9 a.m. rolled around, Luke called the diocesan computer services.
That same afternoon, the diocesan computer tech guy sporting blue jeans and a brown ponytail arrived. “There is one thing you can try yourself that may help stop these pop-ups. With Internet Explorer open, choose Tools, Internet Options.” He continued rattling off this information as he jotted notes for Luke. “At the top of the dialog box change your home page to Use Blank. Click OK, close IE and reopen to see if your home page is now just blank. If that works, then go back to Tools, Internet Options, and in the middle of the dialog box choose in order: Delete Cookies, Delete Files, and then Clear History. That may well clean everything up.”
Luke stared at him. Then clearing his voice, he asked quietly, “What in the world are you talking about?”
Reaching for his bag of tools, the young guy stood up. Eyes averted, he said, “Getting rid of the problems related to X-rated websites.” He stammered. “Look, it’s tough to be alone.” Then bolting for the door, he added, “I won’t tell the diocese. They don’t ever do anything about this anyway. Call me if this doesn’t work. Just leave me a message saying that the spam has come back. I’ll know what it means.” Slamming the door behind him, he left, with a trail of questions in his wake.
Luke sat stunned. X-rated websites? Pop-ups? The only pop-ups he read about in seminary were demons popping up to tempt St. Antony, the father of monasticism, when the monk, celibate and fasting, lived in the rural caves of Alexandria, Egypt. Antony said to focus more on God when distracting temptations arise. Yet still Luke sat slumped over: what is going on here?
Upstairs Jerry approached his desk, his one place of luxury, to work on his PhD dissertation. Hoping to be a Jesuit, Jerry’s passion for Roman mythology led to this half-finished degree from Georgetown University. He wrote about the Roman Empire and especially Romulus and Remus raised by their mother wolf. As he frequently did, he looked out of his window to see the statue of the mother wolf sitting out front.
Today Jerry took out paper. The words flowed quickly about the mythical founder of Rome, the generous she-wolf tenderly caring for the babies while protecting from predators. A wolf-mother bringing ferocious protection and eternal love! Wolves symbolized the glory of ancient Rome, as well as the Jesuit Ignatius of Loyola who had wolves in his coat of arms. Soon, Jerry hoped, these images would come out in academic terms for his PhD dissertation. Springing up for his afternoon hospital visits, Jerry began to whistle an old Gregorian chant, Veni Spiritus, Come, Holy Spirit.
As Jerry sprinted toward the door, he almost ran into Hannah. Quickly she blurted, “Would you come help me pick up the reception food for tonight’s meeting?”
Jerry smiled. “Not today. Late for a prayer before a heart operation at Georgetown University Hospital.” Suddenly he added, “Ask Luke!” As her startled eyes met Jerry’s happy ones, Hannah heard a small “I can do it” from the priests’ office where Luke sat.
Hannah added slowly, “Okay.” After a pause, “I want to grab a sandwich first and maybe you are hungry also.” Luke swallowed hard, nodding yes.
She explained, “I know you are busy, but I won’t ever find a parking space around the caterer and if we both go, I can double-park and you can quickly run in to get it.”
He trailed after her, head down. Soon walking into the local Five Guys restaurant, they were greeted by red-and-white signs announcing that the potatoes were from Hatch Farms in Warden, Washington. Fifty-pound bags of potatoes lay against the side wall.
Ordering her grilled cheese sandwich, Hannah murmured to Luke, “The best French fries in Washington!”
Sitting at the white glossy table, Luke peeked across at the blonde woman. “Hey, wasn’t that latest park crime near here?”
“Yes, Mount Vernon Place, an historic park. Odd pinwheels cut into trees with dripping blood. Done at midnight. They taunt the authorities with these public ceremonies. With the new convention center right there, it seems odd to choose that for a crime.” She added with surprise. “Always something in this powerful city! Who do you think is doing this?”
Luke thought back to his studies. “Sounds like one of those weird worshiping groups. Who knows? I took some classes at Loyola and we studied cults that get involved with things like trances and things like that. Could be they are sacrificing animals.”
Then he said quietly, as he thought of a story to share, “When I took a Religious Studies class at Loyola University, I would drive up to Baltimore once a week.”
“That’s quite a long hike.”
He smiled and nodded. “I used to go through a drive-thru mid-way and have coffee. There was a drought. Everything was dry and brown. The person in the car in front of me threw a lighted cigarette butt out of his window.”
Hannah looked at him with puzzled green eyes.
Luke continued. “A small bush caught fire. The intercom lady asked me if I wanted to add a milkshake to my order. I said, “A bush has caught on fire here.” She responded, “I don’t understand you.” I begged her, “The bush is on fire and flames are starting. You need to bring a hose to put out the fire.” I heard, “Please, sir, just give me your order.””
Hannah started to smile.
Becoming alive, Luke laughed. “So I cupped my hands, like a megaphone and yelled. “Come quick. Big Fire!””
Hannah leaned forward.
Luke quickened his pace. “The next thing I see is a woman peeking around the corner. She sees the now blazing bush and yells, “Get the hoses!” Soon fire trucks roar up and soak the bush. Later the manager hands me the largest cup of coffee I had ever seen. “It’s free today!” he said.”
Laughing, their hands bumped as they both reached for a French fry.
Hannah retorted. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging burning bushes rather than drowning them?”
“Yes!”
Then swallowing, he abruptly added, “Do you notice anything odd at St. Charles?”
She looked at her Timex watch. “Father, I need to get back with the food for that meeting. Let me think about that one.”
At the next therapy meeting, Luke noticed that when he sat down, other priests seemed reluctant to sit next to him. His years in the church had taught him that probably someone gossiped about him.
After a brief opening prayer, Father Hudson began to talk. “The diocese always had a mix of priests. When I was a new priest, the clergy was divided about where you came from.”
Bruce agreed. “Now most of the division is between those who acknowledge that we are overworked and those who deny this.”
Reacting, Hudson said, “Some of our priests sow the seeds of discontent. Negativism.”
Jerry fueled the flying sparks. “A few years ago they named monsignors and divided us even more. We had no monsignors for thirty-seven years.” This comment sparked Luke to think, “Why Peter instead of me? And why any monsignors at all?”
Than Bruce blurted out in fiery frustration, “Oh, come on! If all we think about is our position, we’ve become superficial.”
Luke sat back. When he was ordained, he expected a group of men dedicated to God and community; he would stand united with them in love. And what had he found? A group of men divided over anything: background, titles, and the bishop. Friendship in this climate was tough. And maybe that caused the first part of the journey into darkness that many priests take. The minute after the ordination vows were taken, everything began to break apart. Was there a united, fraternal brotherhood and even a moment when the vision of Saint Ignatius was alive and truly flourishing?
On a darkened March night after a Saturday evening service, Luke walked into the church. Stopping suddenly, Luke saw mid-way up the first flight of stairs a tall figure standing with his long slender arms outstretched toward him. The