An Unlikely Friendship
**This story was written on 3/12/12 and originally published on 4/20/12. Fr. Mel was able to read this story before he passed away on 3/26/12.
I met Fr. Mel in the summer of 2007. He was the new priest at my church, St. Wenceslaus, where I was one of two church trustees. Father came to us after spending a comfortable and happy twelve-year existence at the popular St. Margaret Mary parish in mid-Omaha. Regardless of the success Father exhibited in leading this parish, archdiocesan rules dictate that priests are given a six-year term at a given parish which can be extended to a second, but never to exceed twelve years total.
Fr. Mel Merwald had met his twelve years at St. Margaret Mary, and following the archdiocesan mandate, he was given a new assignment. St. Wenceslaus was the lucky benefactor of this rule of hierarchy.
Along with the other Wenceslaus parishioners, I had heard much about Fr. Mel in the months leading up to his ultimate move to the West Omaha rectory. For all practical purposes, he was a legend of sorts. Bringing up his name and new appointment in conversation was nearly always followed by comments of adoration. The typical response was that our parish had hit the jackpot in Fr. Mel being named our new pastor. It was quite obvious that this man of the cloth had a wide circle of friends and parishioners who were very sad to see Father make the nine-mile trek out west.
The popularity of Fr. Mel and the reputation that preceded him also brought an untended reaction from me. It was actually a reaction of non-reaction. In hindsight, I had assumed that this very social priest had his established ‘posse’ and was a bit hesitant to interject myself into his tight circle.
The reality was that the move was very difficult for Fr. Mel. He had become comfortable in his St. Margaret Mary community and as he battled the first signs of health issues, this same community surrounded him with love and support. But as with anything in life, people move on. Fr. Mel moved out west. St. Margaret Mary was assigned a new pastor and Fr. Mel found himself in a new home starting all over again.
A few weeks after the changing of the guards, a good friend called me and point-blank asked if I had met Fr. Mel yet. I was a bit taken aback and responded with a litany of excuses on how I was waiting for him to get settled in and how I was sure he was busy; too busy to bother with the likes of me. He would certainly call when his schedule freed up, wouldn't he? My friend who had the benefit of being a St. Wenceslaus parishioner, but grew up and had family remaining at St. Margaret Mary, went on to tell me that Father enjoyed having company and would appreciate a visit from the church trustee. Yes, it was definitely a well-deserved nudge and a reminder of how grateful I am for real friends who aren't afraid to throw it out there.
A bit embarrassed, I shot an e-mail to our new priest introducing myself. He quickly responded, eager to hear more about our parish and get a feel for the parishioners. I soon met a man of strong stature and with an aged sophistication. In his early sixties, he immediately struck me as stoic and confident. But through all of the professionalism and talk on parish mission and roles, I saw in his eyes a look that struck me. Fr. Mel was sad. It was the unmistakable look of homesickness. As his mouth told me all the right words as our new leader, his eyes told a different story. One of a man pulled from his home during a trying time in his life. He was uprooted and starting over when ready to enjoy the comforts of his twilight years among his community of long-term friends.
Priest or no priest, trustee or no trustee, I simply liked Fr. Mel. We had an instant rapport and I wanted to help. Based on his reputation of being social and outgoing, I knew that a parish party of sorts was in order. Within a couple of weeks, I planned and hosted a parish open house in my backyard welcoming Fr. Mel to our parish. We were blessed with a beautiful summer evening with masses of people who came and went, introducing themselves and getting to know our new pastor in a casual setting. Although belated, it was a success. Fr. Mel enjoyed meeting many new friends and he worked the crowd like a pro. We parishioners quickly picked up on the attributes that led to his popularity at his prior parish.
Father and I became close friends and a bit of an unlikely duo....a 40-year-old chatty light-hearted woman and a 60-year-old traditional Catholic priest. Our initial friendship revolved around the multitude of parish meetings with many in the morning which included Father introducing me to the Keurig one-cup coffee machine. Fr. Mel had a weak spot for new and interesting technology and was always sharing tips on his latest gadgets. His smartphones and tablets kept him an organized man with great responsiveness to his many daily e-mail requests. Parish council meetings were well run and on point, always following a set agenda while allowing time for orderly discussion and new business.
One particular meeting carries a fond memory. There was an issue at the church that many council members felt Father should address at the pulpit. He disagreed. A few members pulled me aside before the parish council meeting asking that I take a bit more of a stand on the issue. They thought Fr. Mel might listen better to me. The issue came up and as expected, Father thoughtfully gave his stance on not addressing the congregation. Anyone who knows Fr. Mel is aware that he has a strong and confident presence. The room fell silent until I piped up in polite disagreement. Father and I continued to discuss and debate the pros and cons without my conceding defeat. Finally, exhausted and unable to come up with any more rebuttals to my arguments, Fr. Mel concluded that addressing from the pulpit was the way to go.
Clearly spent from the conversation Father deadpanned in his dry sense of humor "Well I've never had a wife, but now I clearly know what it feels like." I believe this was a nice way of saying I was nagging, which I will accept. We all had a good laugh over it.
Fr. Mel adjusted to his new surroundings and his new parish. He was not afraid of change or of ruffling feathers when he saw a need to be filled or a roadblock to be removed. As Father began thriving in his new environment, my happy life started falling apart. The same friend who nudged me to call Mel upon his arrival was now aware of my impending divorce and was now nudging me to call Fr. Mel for guidance and support.
This was a difficult call for me as I felt like a failure in the eyes of a priest whom I respected a great deal. I was well aware of the Catholic Church's stance on divorce and annulment. Here I was the mother of three boys in the parish school, church trustee, and now soon-to-be divorcee; the exact opposite expectation of me. Yet I also knew that divorce was inevitable.
After biting the bullet and making my appointment with Father, I was prepared to hear how I needed to save my marriage and not divorce. I had visions of looking at the ground in shame while being lectured on how my marriage was a sacrament, never to be broken. But instead of feeling judged, I was given an unanticipated gift. Fr. Mel comforted me with no mention of failure and no casting of blame. He gave me the gifts of friendship, understanding, and acceptance. And although Father is not one to hug, sugarcoat, or show emotion; none of these were necessary accommodations for the feeling the acceptance I was given that morning.
In his typical stoic and professional manner, Father supported me as a friend, parishioner, and parish trustee. I left the rectory knowing I also had the full support of Fr. Mel. This kindness was a blessing for which I will always be grateful.
The months that followed were full of changes and although alarming at times to our business-as-usual parish, they were also anticipated with a change in leadership. These changes were sometimes difficult and involved many early mornings and some late-night planning that included trustees and parish advisors. Father led these strategic planning initiatives with the effectiveness and perspective of a Fortune-500 CEO. Along with his Christian calling, it was evident that this man possessed the gifts of vision and leadership. Father surrounded himself with smart people with good motives who collaborated for the common good of our parish. In addition to being a great priest, Fr. Mel really was a talented CEO. He was a blessing to our parish in so many ways.
As my divorce was becoming real and I was adjusting to my new role as a single mom and divorcee in a parish full of married couples, I sat in church with my boys one Sunday. The gospel that morning spoke specifically on divorce. With my boys sitting next to me and all of us suddenly feeling in the spotlight, we braced for a sermon on the dreaded "D" word...divorce.
Fr. Mel took the pulpit to address the packed church that October morning. I understood what his message needed to be and sat back to take in his words while holding my head high.
But the words that came out of Father's mouth were unexpected.
"We are a broken people, some more so than others. We should have compassion, understanding, and forgiveness as characteristics of our behavior. No one should feel he or she is an outcast because of their state of life."
Father went on to clearly talk about the merits and ideal of a permanent loving relationship but ended his sermon with "It’s a challenge to our Church to consider how we are to treat those sincere and wounded people who have gone through a divorce...Mark’s gospel is all about mercy. None of us in the pews can look down our noses at anyone else and claim to be better Christians than they."
My boys sat in the pew next to me with their eyes wide as my eyes welled with tears and I smiled from ear to ear as I felt the mercy given to me. Fr. Mel executed this sermon with great conviction and I felt Father was talking directly to me.
The reason I am able to quote his sermon is that after thanking him after the mass, I asked for a copy. Father sent it to me via e-mail and I refer to it still today. I have passed it on to friends who have gone through similar circumstances as mine. Father's words of forgiveness and human compassion have truly been ‘paid forward’ numerous times over.
For the next year, although Father's health continued to decline, we shared some fond memories together that many times included food, wine, and great company. A couple of these outings included my visiting parents who enjoyed the camaraderie and conversation of a man from their same era. It was fun to hear them reminisce about their days of youth, from cars to hair (and Mel's cracks at himself on his current state of lacking hair).
Sitting back and taking in these jovial interchanges reminded me of the human element and the ordinary upbringing that this man of cloth shared with my parents. It also reminded me of all he sacrificed to dedicate his life to God and forego the traditional life of a husband and a father. There were many personal sacrifices in the 40+ years by Fr. Mel for the benefit of others to whom he provided Christian leadership. I was one of the thousands who were a benefactor of his sacrifice. If one were to quantify the impact of this man with the many stories from those he touched, no doubt it would be a great novel.
This very strong man is now weakened by an illness that has quickly and dramatically taken a toll on his physical well-being. Mel retired from his ministry long before he was ready. The ailments of his physical body have held him back from the typical enjoyment of retirement. After hearing about the recent aggressiveness of his illness and being warned of the potential shock of his failing, I was given yet another Fr. Mel blessing. After surprising Mel at his assisted living home, I was able to participate in a mass he co-celebrated and enjoy lunch together. I had caught Mel on a day he felt good, very good in fact. We enjoyed each other's company with small talk of basketball, parish events, and family. This was the last time I have seen Mel. The last two times I went to mass at the home, Fr. Mel did not feel well enough to attend. It was nothing short of miraculous that my visit was reminiscent of our days past when his health was better.
This is my personal story of Fr. Mel. It is a story of friendship and acceptance. Although I knowingly classify my time with Fr. Mel as a small piece in his big world, it has nonetheless made a lasting impact on me and is a treasured part of my personal journey. He is a wonderful man and a great friend sharing with me his blessings of empathy and humility.
