Yesterday I posted about the journey to my installation as bishop of the diocese of Sault Ste. Marie. Today, a day after the event, I'll tell the story of the installation itself.
I arrived in North Bay two days ago (December 16) a little after 12 noon. Boy was it cold! We unloaded the car, and I got ready for our first event: a welcome dinner for those who would be staying at the hotel. I got there about an hour early to welcome people who might be arriving. Sure enough, I was delighted to see my family arrive. My mom came with my aunt and uncle, and my sister came with her husband and three kids. I could tell this was a big adventure for the little ones, although the drive was a bit longer than they expected. But they took a quick dip in the hotel pool and it cured any crankiness. Those kids love the water!
The dinner at the hotel was very nice. Because we are in a relatively COVID-free zone it was possible to get together, and the room was quite large allowing for the necessary social distancing. Of course, we still couldn't have all the people we might have wanted, but coming from Montreal where it would have been just impossible I was just grateful we could have what we did. And one special surprise was waiting for me in the hotel parking lot: my new car! My old 2009 Ford Escape was already giving me issues, and I was strongly advised to get something new for the sake of ministry. After all, its a big diocese, with 11 hours of road from one end to the other.
The next day was the day of the installation ceremony itself, scheduled for 2 pm. I met the crew from Salt and Light Media at breakfast. Thank goodness those guys were there! Their technical expertise was going to allow us to share this moment with people from all across the diocese -- indeed, from across the world.
I spent most of the morning doing final preparations for the ceremony, including putting the final touches on my homily. A homily can be a complex thing. Usually I use the occasion to teach, but I knew this one would be different. You only get one chance to make a first impression after all, and I wanted to give the people of the diocese a chance to see what and how I think about things, and why. It had to be personal, but also lay out some initial elements of a vision for our diocese. And, of course, it had to come from the Bible, and from the heart. (I'll share the text in a later post, as my copy was handwritten, and I did ad lib a few moments.)
The broadcast began around 1:30 pm with some interviews, including with yours truly. The entrance procession then took place, with Michael Mulhall, the Archbishop of Kingston, as the final person to enter. He was leading the initial part of the ceremony because the diocese of Sault Ste. Marie is part of the ecclesiastical province of Kingston, of which he is the archbishop. I was not part of the procession, because I had a special entrance rite.
I was outside the church as the music ended. I then knocked on the door, symbolically indicated I wanted to enter. (To be honest, it was more like banging on it -- hey, it's a big church, I wanted to make sure they heard me!) Msgr. Jean-Paul Jolicoeur, the diocesan administrator, opened the door for me, where I was also greeted by the rector of the Pro-Cathedral. A humourous moment: upon entering my glasses, of course, fogged up due to the sudden shift in temperature (it was -15 C out there)! I couldn't see a darned thing. But we knew the elements of the ritual, and a quick rub of the lenses in the fold of my chasuble meant I was good to go.
I was first smudged by Sister Priscilla Solomon, who is a sister of Saint Joseph and a member of the Anishinaabe people. She had explained that the smudging ritual involves symbolically seeking the purification of one's mind, vision, hearing, lips, heart and, finally, one's whole being. I had wanted the first ritual gesture upon my entry into the church to come from our First Nations, as they were the first to hear the gospel and respond to it in this part of the world. After, I blessed the people with holy water and kissed the crucifix. With that, it was time for the final part of our entrance process to begin.
I was not seated in the sanctuary at first, but in a chair close to my family in the first pews. With that, the reading of the Apostolic Letter began. This is a special letter from Pope Francis to me, in which he officially informs me I have been appointed as diocesan bishop. The letter must be presented to the College of Consultors (a group of 6 to 12 priests specially designated) for it to take effect, with the Chancellor of the diocese acting as an official witness of the event. In theory this can happen at any time, even over breakfast, but our tradition recommends it occur in the cathedral church in the priests of the clergy and the lay faithful in the context of a liturgy.
Once the letter was read and shown to the College of Consultors, two bishops -- Archbishop Mulhall, the metropolitan of the ecclesiastical province, and Archbishop Damphousse, my predecessor in the diocese -- came and escorted me to my special chair, called a "cathedra". This is the special piece of furniture which gives a cathedral it's name: it is the church where the cathedra is located. A cathedra is often fastened to the ground, as a sign of the stability of the office of bishop. Individual bishops may come and go, but the chair (and hence the office it represents) remains. Fun fact: sometimes the escorting bishops put on a bit of a show, grabbing the new bishop by the arms as if they were forcing him to take his seat. There is nothing in the ritual about that, but it's kind of fun.
I had a chance to offer a few words after the applause died down, and then I intoned the Gloria, which very appropriately was a way to turn attention from me to God. He, after all, deserves all the glory!
The mass continued with the readings from the Bible, which were read by a woman who is part of a unique diocesan reality called the Diocesan Order of Women (aka the "DOWs"). The diocese of Sault Ste. Marie has apparently been at the forefront of offering opportunities for ministry to women, something Pope Francis has spoken about more than once, so I am eager to learn more about this institution, which goes back for almost 50 years. The readings were then followed by my homily. (As mentioned before, I'll publish the full text of the homily in a later post.)
After the homily we had the general intercessions. I'm so glad we were able to have at least one of the intercessions translated into the Native language. The woman who was tasked with reading the intercessions had to do it in three languages, and she handled it like a champ.
Once we got to the second major part of the mass, called the "liturgy of the Eucharist", I had the blessing of receiving the offerings of bread and wine from my sister-in-law and from my mother. Each gift was then smudged, as I had been at the beginning of the ceremony, before being placed on the altar. The prayers of preparation and the Eucharistic prayer then proceeded in the usual way, albeit with one exception: the washing of the hands wasn't done with water, but with hand sanitizer! I was not expecting that, but it made sense given the "COVID context" in which we are living.
When we got to the Our Father, we suggested that people could pray it in their own language, as they felt comfortable. I did it half in English, and half in French. Because of the health restrictions imposed by the pandemic the distribution of communion had to be done in a different way. The priests, because they concelebrate, are required to receive under both forms (bread and wine), so we actually had multiple small cups on the altar which could be brought to them, along with the hosts, so they could receive both the Body and Blood of Christ. As for the people, we did not have a communion procession. Instead, the ministers went to the people in the pews, first to distribute hand sanitizer, and then to give communion. I couldn't help it: seeing people rub their hands together made me think of my mother calling out to us before dinner: "Hände waschen! Wash your hands!"
After communion there was the usual brief prayer, and then a couple of short speeches. The first was from the representative of the Apostolic Nunciature, Monseignor Matjaž Roter. The Nuncio himself was not able to be present, as he had only just been given a new assignment to Albania and was himself preparing to leave. Msgr. Roter did a fine job. I then followed, offering a few remarks of thanks and encouragement for vocations to the priesthood and religious life. I also took the time to thank Msgr. Jean-Paul "JP" Jolicoeur, for his excellent service as diocesan administrator. He deserved all the applause he received.
We could not invite people to stay for a reception, unfortunately, due to the health restrictions, so I was only able to offer people the blessing from mass and wish them well. We did have a small dinner back at the hotel, mind you, with the same guests as the night before with a few new ones. Archbishop Lépine offered greetings on behalf of the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, while Bishop Dan Miehm spoke on behalf of the Association of Catholic Bishops of Ontario (the ACBO, which he hilariously pointed out is not to be confused with the LCBO). It turns out that Bishop Miehm used to be one of the readers of my blog, way back in 2003-2004! Both men spoke beautifully and I'm grateful to them for their kindness.
Once dinner was over I'll admit, I was beat. After giving a friend a quick ride in my car, it was time to get back to the Pro-Cathedral and unwind. And, write for my blog, of course! :-)
I am so grateful to all those who worked so hard to make this day come together. Lord, bless them! Amen!
