“Padre!” implored one of our local tramps as I made my way into the papal basilica of St Paul’s Outside the Walls, which is just over the road from the Beda seminary, for my ordination. I felt ashamed as I had no coins to give as I hadn’t put any in my cassock pockets – I hadn’t thought I was going to need any money. Dressed like that it was natural that he took me for a priest, but I reflected, “Why, I’m not even a deacon, yet.” A second thought came almost instantly: the yet would be redundant in a couple of hours. The habit doesn’t make a monk or the collar a cleric, but they are a sign to the world of an inner change and a symbol of dedication. I was going to have to get used to being on display.
Continue reading “Congratulazioni, Deacon Andrew!”