JAMES MCGUFFEY:  

Over a year ago, I was moved to write this piece for my nieces and nephews, whom I see less and less often, to let them get to know me a little better. I titled it "Moments of Grace." Hope you enjoy. Moments of Grace So often time and distance separate us from one another. Being a priest, the only time we get a chance to talk is at a wedding, a baptism or sadly, a funeral. It has been on my heart recently to share with you some things that have made a difference in my life. Things like the grace of God, and His calling me to serve him in ministry. What a mysterious thing, God’s calling. When I was in college, I took a course on vocation, what career should I aim for. The only career I thought to do my paper on was the priesthood. I had never thought of that before, but a few years later, after leaving college, I can remember praying with a group of friends when I was around 22 years old. I was praying as to what I was to do in life. The answer was quite mysterious. I felt that I was to draw close to the Lord. I knew this was true, but it seemed to me that is what we were all called to do. A moment of grace. So I continued my search for what I was to do in life. It took me to a number of jobs, some time spent serving the poor in Tijuana, Mexico, and then eventually off to Queens College, where I got my degree in Accounting, one of my strengths. I had a year or so left to get my degree and I sensed the same calling again. A moment of grace. A calling to draw close to Jesus. And this time I discerned it was a true calling. What was I to do now? If I changed my major, I would have to spend a lot more time getting a new degree, so that was out of the question. So, I got my degree in Accounting and found work at the Long Island Catholic Newspaper where I worked for 4 years, paying off debts and looking into vocation. While still working, I entered the Franciscan Capuchin order and lived as a postulant in East New York in Brooklyn for around a year. It was towards the end of that time, that I discerned that that was not my calling. I initially fought it, but knew in my heart that was not where the Lord wanted me. Another moment of grace. I then discovered Madonna House in Combermere, Ontario, Canada, a community of lay people and priests who devoted their lives to prayer and the service of the poor. I got accepted to their pre-seminary formation program. A real blessing, but that was not where I was meant to be. During that time, I applied to Holy Apostles Seminary, Cromwell, Connecticut. It was upon entering Holy Apostles that I felt I was where I was supposed to be, and it was there that I prayed about who I would choose as my sponsor. And after much discernment and a few interviews, I chose the Diocese of Metuchen here in New Jersey. More moments of grace. Moments of grace allowed me in my 20's and mid 30's to make decisions to change direction and become open to what I felt was God’s call in my life, moments that would bring me places I have never been, and form my life in profound ways. Pilgrimages And I have been to places I could not have imagined. My first pilgrimage was to the Holy Land. Upon departing from the plane, I felt I was coming home. To be in the places where Jesus walked, places I have meditated on for my whole priestly life, was incredible. From Nazareth, to the Sea of Galilee, to the Jordan River, to Jericho, to Jerusalem, and then to Bethlehem, which was right outside Jerusalem. Well, the only word to describe it is awesome! And Rome, my most memorable trip to Rome was with mom, the year after dad died. I had wanted to take her there for years, but she wouldn’t leave dad, as he was too ill to travel. We picked out our hotel, which was a block and a half from the Vatican. And from there we found the best Gelato shop in all of Italy. We visited the Vatican every day. And the highlight was when I said Mass in the Vatican on one of the side altars, with mom as my only parishioner. And we arranged a private tour of the Vatican, just mom, me and the tour guide. The rich religious art mesmerized mom. The Pieta, just as you enter St. Peter’s, was inspiring. The Sistine Chapel would take your breath away. Michaelangelo’s frescos were restored in the 1980's, so we could view them in all their vibrant glory. We also took a private tour of Rome by night by limousine. Mom sat in the front seat. We saw the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, and more. We even saw an opera, one of mom’s favorite things. And Medjugorge, in the late 80's mom asked me if I wanted to go on pilgrimage to Medjugorge, Yugoslavia. I had considered it, but after much thought, I asked her to see if her sister, Aunt Jeanne, would like to go. And she did. I said to mom, that many people cannot make that pilgrimage, and they should be able to get the blessings even if they did not go. Well, off they went, with their white hats and bags in hand and were blessed beyond anything they could imagine. They saw the miracle of the sun and more. Well, remember that I believed those who did not go, ought to receive the blessings as well. Here is where my connection comes in. I was on retreat at Graymore, in upstate New York. I was not a priest yet. There were some nuns on the retreat. We had climbed a small hill where a statue of Our Lady of Peace was placed, and we were saying the rosary at the time. When we got to the top of the hill, I looked down at my rosaries and they were glistening in the sun. They were gold between the beads. One week before, I noticed them on my dresser as the sun beamed in the room and they were a brilliant silver! My rosaries had turned gold. When I told my mom about this, she asked if she could put her rosaries next to mine, overnight to see if hers would turn gold. I said yes. I couldn’t promise anything though. Well, that next morning her rosaries turned gold, and little by little she found out that many family members and friends rosaries had turned gold as well. I did not know what to make of this, but knew that God was giving us a special blessing through His mother Mary. And just to accept the blessing. Another moment of grace. Brother Polycarp And one of the greatest influences in my life was my mom’s uncle, Brother Polycarp. What a positive force in our family, always talking about the faith. I can remember when I was 17, and Brother Polycarp took me to the city, as was his custom. Even at 17, it was my two steps to his one step. I could scarcely keep up with him. At one corner, we stopped and he said, “You must pray always.” A simple statement but one that hit be between the eyes. I thought I was pretty good before that, but with that one question, I realized I needed something more in my life, prayer and faith. Family Where would we be without family? Being brought up in a faithful Catholic family and going to Catholic school added much to my formation. Mom was blessed with a simple and beautiful faith since childhood and wanted to pass that on to us. And dad was a convert to the faith and continually read books like “The Imitation of Christ” to increase his faith. But with all of that, we didn’t know it, but we needed something more. We were blessed as family to come into a more profound sense of the faith in the mid ‘70's. It started with the Lord blessing my brother Rob with a transcendent experience. I can remember his coming downstairs and announcing to us, “God is Love.” We said that we knew that, but did we? In time we all came to know of the love of God, each in our own particular ways. And each of us to this day, are devoted to prayer in our lives. More than challenges! Our lives can take on extreme challenges at times. No less in parish ministry. I can remember taking over a parish temporarily when the pastor had a heart attack. His sister was in the hospital day and night, yet left the hospital to go home to sleep. She was a retired nurse and wanted to make sure he got the best treatment. He eventually came back to the parish but never fully recovered. A few months later, he developed pneumonia and had to be put back in the hospital and was put into an induced coma to recover. After a few weeks I got a call on a Saturday morning, while I was preparing a couple for marriage. Fr. Gall was coding. I got down to the hospital as soon as I could, but it was too late. Fortunately a priest was able to get there in time, and he was anointed. Such a sad thing. We had his funeral Mass and after that, I went on to administrate another parish in an inner city in our diocese. That pastor had left to be a missionary in China. It was a few months later, and I was watching Spanish TV to brush up on my High School Spanish, as there were many Spanish in that parish. It was then I saw a picture of Fr. Gall with the dates of his birth and death entitled, “Muerte Misterioso”, or mysterious death. I called the parish the next day and found out that Fr. Gall was one of the last victims of the male nurse serial killer Charles Cullen. Cullen liked the night shifts and that is where he was able to take the lives of his victims. Unbelievable. It was in late December of that year, in that same inner city parish, between Christmas and New Year’s that I was lying in bed in the rectory when, at 4:40 in the morning, I sensed a mysterious presence at the foot of my bed. At first I tried to make sense of it. But soon, I knew it was no friendly presence. The man began demanding money. I could barely speak at first but was able to give him my wallet, but told him to take the money, but please leave my wallet. He asked for more money, and I said I am a priest and I had no more money. I told him this was a rectory, and how did he get in. My voice was getting louder and louder. I just wanted him out of there. He said ...Expand for more