Some years ago the pastor of another parish sat down at the computer to compose his weekly column, which he had to complete to meet a Wednesday press deadline. The parish carnival was scheduled for that Saturday, and the carnival was the biggest social and fundraising event of the year. Committees had been working for months. The rides for the children were being set up; the booths were in place; workers had been recruited; the cooking crew was ready to go; a band had been booked for the beer garden; and the weather forecast for Saturday was for partly cloudy skies and warm--the perfect weather for an outdoor carnival. Because he knew how hard parishioners had been working to get ready for this day, he thought it was important to include some glowing words about the success of the carnival in that weekend’s bulletin. So he wrote about how great the weather was; how hard parishioners worked; how much fun everyone had; and how much money the carnival had generated for the parish and the school. The problem was that on Friday, a cold front shifted; Saturday was windy and cold; and it rained hard almost all day. A few people did come to dine inside; but nothing happened on Saturday the way it was described in the Sunday bulletin.

For many decades, our bulletins were printed by the J. S. Paluch Company, a local firm which went out of business suddenly last year.  Along with hundreds of other Chicago area parishes, we were referred to another bulletin company that has provided excellent service. However, because we are one of their new clients, we have the earliest press deadline—12:00 noon on Monday. This, of course, adds to the risk of writing about things that did not happen or seeming to ignore something important that did happen. We will go to press long before a vote is counted in this year’s election and three days before our Italian Dinner. Like this other pastor, I am tempted to write about what a great time everyone had Thursday night; how good the food was; and how well people responded to our “reverse auction” and our one silent auction item—a vacation in Cabo San Lucas. Since this is an indoor event, the likelihood of it being rained out is extremely slim. Still, I know I am treading on thin ice if I try to say anything about what actually took place Thursday evening. Nevertheless, I can hand out a big thank you to the members of our events committee, which worked on this project for months:  Cathy Cahill, Danielle Gabriel, Rose Grieco, Beth Schuman, Mary Ann La Belle, and Karlyn Williams. I can say thank you to the folks at Coco Pazzo, who were very open to our proposal and very accommodating to our needs. And I can say thank you to all of you who scooped up the reservations. This is the first time in years that we have had a waiting list for one of our dinners. Assuming that there was no national emergency and the event went off as planned, I trust that a good time was had by all.

And speaking of national emergencies, the polls indicate that a lot of us are worried about what is going to happen with this week’s election and the journey to Inauguration Day. 70% of Americans are “anxious” about the presidential election (Only 30% described themselves as “excited”). In another poll, 41% of registered voters said they were “extremely concerned” or “very concerned” about violent attempts to overcome election results. This fear is something new for the United States—at least in the lifetime of most of us. Election Day was always a time for Americans to show their pride at how well our democracy worked. The rest of the world should imitate us! Winners were jubilant and losers were gracious Of course our democracy has never been perfect. When we started out, only white male property owners were allowed to vote. Stories of ballot boxes being stuffed and elections being fixed are also part of our legacy. According to the family story, when my mother’s uncle, Frank Monteverde, ran for mayor of Memphis in 1916, he had a representative at each polling place with a loaded pistol (He won the election but was later buried by the political machine).

However, I think the present distrust and anxiety about the election results is a reflection of a deeper anxiety that our lives are no longer our own, that reality is being manipulated by unseen forces. Most of us know very little about artificial intelligence, and what we do not understand we generally fear. When we are presented with alternate sets of facts, we find it hard to trust anyone. Anxious times are also an invitation to turn back to God. The only security system that works 100% of the time is love of God and love of neighbor. This is not only true in the long run, but could be a great gift to our country in the short run. The neighbor with different political opinions and different solutions to our country’s problems is probably just as anxious and fearful as we are—and could probably use a little acceptance and understanding from us.

                                                      Fr Joe