Lord, Where Are You?

Some years ago, a series of paperback novels hit the book stores concerning a certain priest, Don Camillo, the parish priest in a small hilltop town in Italy.  Vigorous in nature and explosive at times in his temperament, Don Camillo would often go into the Parish Church and talk forcefully to Christ on the Cross.

This good hearted priest didn’t see a plaster of paris figure on the cross, but rather the Living, Pulsating Christ of the Gospels.  He would “argue” with Christ and ask Him many questions about life in the village, one dominated by a Communist Mayor.  Don Camillo demanded that the Lord do something about these conditions, because he, the priest, could do no more than he was doing.

Strangely enough, the Lord would quietly respond to the words of the priest, sometimes humorously.  In turn, Don Camillo showed no surprise at this dialogue.  Between the lines of these stories and adventures, the reader could detect a strong friendship between Christ and the village priest.  The Christ, on the cross, often left so lonely in the Church, without friendship, returned to Don Camillo’s trust and faith with an equal amount of love and help.

The Camillo stories always fired up in me a wish to imitate the priest and have the same kind of relationship with Christ that he had.  “Don”, by the way in Italian means, “Father.”  A while back, I went to Holy Sepulcher Cemetery to conduct a prayer service for a deceased man.  To my chagrin, he didn’t show up.  While sitting alone in the Sacred Heart Internment Chapel for 45 minutes, I talked to the bronze image of Christ on the wall.  Like Don Camillo, I saw there the Living, Pulsating Lord of the Gospels.  I talked to Him, not in an argumentative way, but rather telling the Lord why His people find it difficult to build up that friendship worthy of Him.

“Lord, show Yourself in some visible way to encourage us to think of You as alive in our daily living.”  I went on to say, “Lord, we don’t want You to be part of a wax museum in our lives . . . Even, if you don’t speak to our physical ears in an audible way, speak to the ears of our heart.  We wait for Your messages, otherwise the terrible silence of our relationship with You will kill off our hopes, dreams and our belief in You.  Please do something!”

All of us can do what Don Camillo did!  I did with good results in my life.  The author of the Camillo stories brought out the glorious possibilities of an exciting relationship with the Lord of the Gospels. 

Fr. George Mc Kenna