“Hey Father! Can you hear my confession?”

“Hey Father! Can you hear my confession?” That’s what he said as I walked past his house party along the race course.  I can still picture the look of shock in his eyes when I turned back and without missing a beat said, “Of course.”  I think I took even more delight when his buddy pushed him towards me and chortled, “Tell him what you did last night!”  Not surprisingly the young man ultimately declined to tell me about whatever he got up to the night before that sunny afternoon, but we did have a pleasant conversation which ended with him shaking my hand and wishing me a good day.

This was just one of the dozens of encounters I had while mingling with the crowds gathered for the Bike Race which I initially posted about here.  As you may have already surmised I was not out in civilian clothes.  Other things I heard or saw included “Hey Father, can you marry me today?” and “Hey Father, do you want a beer?” and the inevitable, “Are you a real priest?”

I also was greeted by name by many parishioners, neighbors and friends.  I was waved at, stared at and given a shirt that reads, “The Bike Race.  They Ride.  We Drink.”   Many times I was flashed the peace sign and once, given the finger.

But although my feet hurt and I hot and sweaty by the end of it all, it was an amazing and productive day.  In five hours I walked a few miles and in the process met strangers, joked with friends, caught up with lapsed parishioners, visited someone struggling with the death of their spouse and with a young man who’s cancer has gone into remission.  I was invited in to eat by total strangers.  I prayed with people who were desperate to find work and others who were going through a divorce and even listen to someone who was struggling with feeling suicidal.  I also got to visit with one of the newest additions to our parish, a 5 day old baby and his family.

It may not be anything they prepared me for at seminary, but it sure beats a day of emails and committee reports hands down.

Dear God, I need a beer!

Have you ever come home from a stressful day and said to yourself, “God, I need a beer!”  I have said this to myself many times. But as my alcohol fast has progressed, I have come to realize a few things. First, is how frequently I feel this way.

Second, since I am choosing not to go down to my beer fridge to grab a cold one in response to this impulse, I am coming to realize just how often I would grab a beer (or two) as a way to help me cope with stress. While not inherently destructive, trying to find peace at the bottom of a glass is certainly not the most productive way to deal with stress either.

Without that beer at the ready I am having to face my stressors head on which I must confess is not much fun. But while having a couple of drinks would soothe away my worries for the evening, I would still have to deal with them the next day. I guess what I have really come to realize is that on occasion I was looking to booze to help meet emotional and spiritual needs. While beer is indeed a miraculous gift, any solace it brings is only temporary. So instead of coming home at the end of a hard day and saying “God, I need a beer!” perhaps what I should be saying is, “God, I need to spent some time getting quiet so I can put this stuff into some order” or even “God, I need a little God right now!”

Then, once I have taken some time to sort things through or to pray, then would be a good time to go down to the fridge and grab a tasty beer. Because once I have dealt with the anxiety or angst I might just find that I don’t need that beer anymore at all. Then I might find that I really only want one or two and not the four or five it might have otherwise taken to give me the relief I was actually seeking. Then I might be able to just enjoy that beer for the wonderful gift that it is instead of looking to it to give me peace.

Thanks for taking the time to share this journey with me. I will continue to keep you posted.

A note of disclaimer: This coming Saturday, March 2, is the annual Philly Craft Beer Fest at the Navy Yard. I will be there, in clerics and I will be drinking. But just so you know I will not be drinking on Sunday (my usual day off from my fast) in exchange for this indulgence. Just wanted you to know in case someone sees me there and wonders if I am trying to pull a fast one.  Maybe I’ll see you there.
Cheers!

Saints of the Suds, Part II: Columbanus.

St Columbanus

This is the second of a small series of sporadic entries dedicated to saints who loved beer. While there are a number of authentic accounts of saints who personally imbibed, praised or otherwise promoted beer, they are a minority when compared to the number of saints who went on record condemning our favorite beverage. Of course to me this makes them only all the more interesting. But enough of the prologue… let’s get to the saint.

Saint Columbanus (543-615) was an Irish-born saint who helped bring Celtic monasticism to the continent. There are two associations connecting him with beer. The first is a story and the second, a quote. Legend has it that Columbanus came upon a group of men in the town of Bregenz (in modern day Austria) who were sacrificing a vat of ale to the god Wodan. Angred by this act of idolatry Columbanus breathed upon the vessel which promptly shattered and spilled the beer upon the ground. Columbanus is then reported to have then told the now frightened Wodan worshippers that good ale is wasted on false gods. He then explained that the Christian God also loved beer but only when it was drunk in his name. The result of the miracle and Columbanus’ attractive (and beer-friendly) theology brought about many conversions.

Even more famous is this quotation,

“It is my design to die in the brew house; let ale be placed to my mouth when I am expiring, that when choirs of angels come they may say, ‘May God be propitious to this drinker.’”

While this may bring a chuckle, its real significance lies not in its humor but in the fact that for Columbanus did not see any disconnect between love of beer and a life devoted to God. For too long in the country we have suffered under the weight of our Prohibitionist legacy. It is high time we recognized that it does not represent all of Christianity. Indeed the Celtic strain of the faith emphasizes the goodness of creation and so naturally fosters a love and appreciation of the blessings of life,  beer included.