ON FR. DENNY DEMPSEY AND FEAST DAYS

ON THE ORIGIN OF FEAST DAYS

In my liturgical principles class at the St Paul Seminary (in which I read so many rubrics I was seeing red … it’s an inside liturgical joke), Fr. Mike Joncas revealed to us the origin of the Feast Day.

The Christian Church initially celebrated three very solemn feasts, the primary feast was and remains Easter. The second most important solemn feast was Pentecost, the birth of the Christian Church. And the third most important solemn feast, celebrated largely to lure Christians away from the pagan Saturnalia festivals with all its drunken debauchery, Christmas.

It was in the Roman Catacombs during the height of Christian persecution by Imperial Rome that the feast day of deceased Christians, mostly martyrs, was celebrated. As Joncas related, these feast days, celebrated on the day of a person’s death and birth into heaven, was done primarily to appease the deceased and prevent the deceased from haunting the Christian community. Over time, the superstitious fear of being haunted was lost and replaced by honoring and remembering people who lived exceptional lives of faith.

Over time, an “official” calendar of saints in the Roman Catholic Church was established. A process of canonization was established and continues to evolve with different popes making alterations usually to squeeze their “favorite people” through the canonization process. The process, like so many other things in human institutions has become more and more political and also more expensive (it pays to have rich patrons help to financially push through candidates for sainthood). Like most things created by humans it is a flawed process with many, in my opinion, not deserving of sainthood being canonized, among whom I would number Pius IX, Pius X, and John Paul  II; and,  those most deserving of sainthood being ignored or discarded, for instance Dorothy Day, and until the pontificate of Pope Francis, John XIII and Oscar Romero. Of course, there are those rare individuals whom the faithful demand to be canonized, for example, Francis of Assisi and Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

While I observe and honor those whose major feasts are celebrated, e.g. Apostles, evangelists, and of course the major Solemn Feasts, I have established my own Canon of Saints of those people I have known and admired over the years. Among that number would be my dad and my mom, who lived exemplary lives, parishioners like Blanche Schutrop from St Hubert, Fr Pat Griffin from St Stephen’s, and so many more. The one criteria for sainthood for me is not how they have served a religious institution, but how they have lived the Gospel. They need not even be Catholic, or Christian, but how they understood and lived unconditional love in their own religious traditions and cultures. So it is easy for me to celebrate the feast day of Mahatma Ghandi, along with Martin Luther King Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

DENNY DEMPSEY 

And, so, I remember in a very special way, Denny Dempsey, on his feast day, today. Was Denny perfect? Of course, not. Denny was as human as you and me. He had his flaws and like all human beings struggled to live his faith and his vocation as a priest each and every day.

Did Denny ever have doubts about his faith? Just like you and me, he did. Everyone in church ministry will ask themselves the question, “Just what was I thinking when I became a priest, or a minister, or a permanent deacon?” I have told the story before, but one time during Lent, when we were praying Evening Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours, he asked me if our lives in church ministry was based on nothing. In other words, was the story of Christ, upon which we dedicated our ministry and our lives, largely fictional and just a story and nothing more. My reply was that if it were, then at least living lives meant to assist people through crises was a worthy way to live. We all have our “Jeremiah moments” when our voices join that of the prophet who cried out to God, “Lord, you duped me and I allowed myself to be duped!” And yet, like Jeremiah, filled with our own doubts and inadequacies, we persevere.

There are three people I know who were extremely close to Denny: 1) his spiritual director, 2) Fr Kevin Clinton, and 3) my wife, Ruthie, who was his confidant when Denny was associate pastor at St Wenceslaus. She, to this day, guards the conversations they had back then, very closely. And, I am relieved that he found that confidant in Ruth.

WHY DENNY IS IN MY COMMUNION OF SAINTS

What elevates Denny to sainthood for me is the way that he lived to the best of his ability the Gospel of Jesus. He poured himself out in so many ways to the people whom he served. Whether it was helping farmers bail hay, or fixing the bikes of the kids in town, leading canoe trips or bike trips for youth and young adults, comforting the sick, attending the dying and their families, fixing my washing machine on Easter Sunday, or celebrating the sacraments in church, Denny was 100 percent there for you.

Denny never had the dualism that we often equate with religious practice e.g. we do the ‘holy’ things at church on Sunday, and then everything done outside the church is not designated as sacred or holy. Many of us live in this false dichotomy in which our behavior in church is different from the way we behave outside of church, as if outside of church we can do things that God is unable to see. Not so with Denny. the Mass over which he presided in church was not set apart from the bikes he fixed, the hay he bailed, the cows he milked, and the meals he ate in people’s homes. It was all one and the same. All of the world was part of the grand sacred liturgy that just began in church and extended out into the greater world outside the church building.

My mother told me a story about Denny when he was leading a Lenten parish mission at her parish, St Rose of Lima, in Roseville, MN. In the middle of Denny’s talk, a woman in the congregation suffered a sudden stroke. People ran to assist the stricken woman and in their midst was Denny Dempsey who cradled the head of the woman on his lap and comforted her while they awaited the arrival of the paramedics. My mother was so struck by his love and compassion for the woman. I told my mom, that what she witnessed was genuine and authentic. That was who Denny really is. Denny personified for many people Christ’s love and compassion, especially for those who were most in need.

Denny lived very simply. Whatever he could not fit into the topper of his small Toyota pickup truck, he would leave behind. His only prized possessions were his guitar, his bike, and his canoe. Now over time, I am sure that rusted out Toyota truck was replaced with something more rusty and the canoe was replaced with a kayak. However, the Epiphone guitar and his bike were probably the same as those he had with him when he was assigned to St Wenceslaus in the 1980’s. He was frugal even with chewing gum, known to chew the same piece of gum for several days, and placing that gum on a “gum caddy” alongside his bed at night.

With the exception of liturgies, he dressed like the flock he shepherded, living to the fullest Pope Francis’ mandate that shepherds must smell like their sheep. He did not need cassocks, clerics, birettas and all the other clerical garb that many young priests and restorationist priests believe a priest must wear to gain the respect of their parishioners. Denny dismissed all the clerical trappings and earned the love and respect of his parishioners by simply being there with them and serving them.

He had a good sense of humor and did not put on airs. I remember when Denny did his Spanish immersion, in order to serve Venezuelan parishioners Jesu Cristo Resuscitado (Jesus Christ Resurrected) and later, the Latino community in this Archdiocese. He was asked by a group of Latinos how long he had been ordained a priest. He replied, “Tengo quince anos.” The people laughed and asked him again. Denny repeated, “Tengo quince anos.” They laughed all the more and asked him again. Again, Denny replied, “Tengo quince anos.” They laughed and laughed and asked him again how long he had been ordained a priest. By this time, Denny knew something was not quite right. He had been using the wrong word for year. The Spanish word for year is años. He had been using the Spanish word anos, which means anus. He had been telling the people not that he had been ordained fifteen years, but he had 15 anuses. His self-deprecating humor remained intact for the rest of his life. When he told me the story I replied that with 15 anuses, at the very least, he had many alternate ways of sitting down.

Denny was my spiritual mentor, my good friend, and I chose him as my advisor and director for my graduate school project at the St Paul Seminary.  I recognize that my life was just one of so many lives he impacted so positively during this life as a priest. Fr Kevin Clinton and Denny spent much of the weekend together prior to Denny’s death. Kevin told me that Denny had said to him, that when he (Denny) was ordained, he was in the middle of the road of the Catholic Church. However, Denny told Kevin that now he found himself in the left ditch that ran alongside that road. Denny, like Kevin, and myself, are one in that statement. In serving those on the margins of society and of the Church, we find ourselves in the company of Jesus who served those on the margins of his society and his religion.

It is a custom for many of us to often ask our friends to pray for us. I count myself among their number. And, people often ask me to pray for them. So every morning, I have my list of people for whom I will pray by name.

Along with those on earth, I ask my family and friends in heaven, the Communion of Saints, to pray for me. I have no idea about how long I will be walking, some days shuffling, along on this earth, and I continue to need their love, their prayers, and their guidance.

The one thing years of ministry have taught me is that death does not end our relationships of love and friendship with those who have died. On the contrary, death amplifies far greater our relationships of love and friendship. Just as nothing can separate us from the love of God, so too, nothing can separate us from our loved ones and friends.So, my good friend, Denny, from your place in the fullness of God’s love, I ask you to pray for me.

Happy feast day, Denny!