A Coda
I was home in Florida for Christmas with the entirety of my family. On Christmas morning, I went to the 10 a.m. Mass with my parents at the the Catholic parish I had grown up in and was confirmed in, San Jose. San Jose had been through a lot since I left home twenty years ago. The guy who was the pastor during the end of my time there (and who, parenthetically but importantly, had been the assistant to the bishop prior to his arrival) had stayed on for years and slowly but surely ran the place into the ground. This culminated in the pastor literally running off with the music director, with whom he had been apparently having an long-term affair. My parents left San Jose several years before the final collapse, in favor of Holy Family, led at the time by Fr. Fay. Fr. Fay had, and has, the reputation as the "turn around" guy in the diocese; the person who is sent to troubled parishes to fix them up and make them strong. And he had done that in spade...