Blog Archives

Fr. Todd and Fr. Gary

6/25/2018

Jesus tells us in the Gospel of John, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). This weekend, our uncle Fr. Bill celebrates 50 years of ordination; 50 years of seeking to be used by Christ to help bring His life into the world! We are grateful that Fr. Dennis has given us this opportunity to share some of the fruit that Jesus has borne through Fr. Bill’s life and faithful ministry as a priest.

When we think about our uncle, what immediately comes to mind is stability and constancy. We grew up with the familiar sight of Fr Bill walking the family farm on his day off as he was praying the breviary. On the day of his ordination in 1968, the Bishop asked Fr. Bill, “Do you resolve to implore with us God’s mercy upon the people entrusted to your care by observing the command to pray without ceasing?” Fr. Bill took that promise to heart and we can attest that he has faithfully done so for 50 years! Not only was that fidelity an inspiration and seed for our own future vocations, but it was the bedrock that grounded and strengthened his service over the ups and downs of service. As Jesus says, “without me, you can do nothing” and Fr. Bill checks in with Him at least 5 times a day by praying the breviary daily!

That stability marked Fr. Bill’s service through the 1960’s, 70’s, and 80’s, which could be tumultuous at times both inside the Church and out. He was the calm presence that helped people keep moving forward even when it might seem confusing or uncertain. It is not uncommon to meet people who find out who we are and then immediately ask, “How is your Uncle?” Then without fail they share a story of how he brought them back to the Church, visited them in the hospital, guided them through a loss, helped get their kids into the parish school, etc. A priest is called to be a witness of faith and belief that helps give a foundation for others, and Fr. Bill does that so well. None of us will fully know until heaven those people we have helped influence, but we have certainly met many whose lives were impacted by Fr. Bill!

One of the things Fr. Bill would often talk about were the amazing stories he had from the hospital. If you did not know this, Fr. Bill dedicated a lot of time to ministering at Sparrow Hospital at Lansing during his time at
Resurrection Parish. Over dinner he would share about the “chance” meeting with someone in an elevator, which allowed him to visit their loved one and help bring the mercy and comfort of Christ. Or, he would talk about meeting the person who had been away from the Church for many years, but he was able to bring them back to the Sacraments. Jesus loves to serve those who are sick and suffering, and Fr. Bill dedicated himself to that work of mercy. We have both seen Christ do incredible things during hospital visits and Fr. Bill helped give us those expectations!

So, it is with gratitude that we thank God for our uncle’s ministry and life as a priest. We do so on behalf of the
whole Church and those he served. We do so on behalf of our family and ourselves because it was his witness that first helped us hear our own call to the priesthood. Fr. Bill, thank you for saying yes to Jesus and pouring out your life for our behalf and that of the Church. May you continue to serve and bear fruit for many more years to come!

Fr. Todd and Fr. Gary Koenigsknecht

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Kameron Riley

6/18/2018

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For the last six years I have been blessed with the opportunity to coach junior high boys basketball at
Fowler. I have been very fortunate to watch so many young men develop and grow as players, and more
importantly, as individuals. It has truly been a gratifying experience that has encouraged and inspired me
to strive to become a better person and to hold myself to a higher standard.

As I have learned from Catholic author and speaker, Matthew Kelly, there are four aspects of the human
person. These enable us to become the best version of ourselves and to live a life of happiness: physical,
emotional, spiritual, and intellectual. While I certainly could use work in all four of these categories, it was
my faith, above all, that I felt I really needed to improve upon.

It was at this time that I made the decision to make a more genuine and conscious effort in strengthening
my faith and improving my relationship with God. In the process of doing so, I would often find myself
wondering if I was making the right decisions in effectively moving forward with this promise. I questioned
whether or not I was saying the right prayers, reading the right spiritual literature, and attending the right
amount of masses. All these things, at the time, I believed held a great deal of influence on my ability to
obtain the faith I so desired.

Three weeks ago I had the privilege of attending the “Living Every Day with Passion & Purpose”
conference with Matthew Kelly at the DeltaPlex Arena in Grand Rapids. Matthew shared many simple yet
profound stories and statements that night, but among the many there was one that really resonated with
me. He said, “If you read the Bible you’ll notice a common phrase being used -- ‘God said’. God said to
Abraham. God said to Moses. God said to Noah. God said.” God is always speaking to us; it’s just a
matter of whether or not we are listening.

I share this story about the experience I had at the “Living Every Day with Passion & Purpose” conference
because it was this very concept that enabled me to take that next step in strengthening my faith. It
allowed me to stop asking God and to simply start listening to Him. It helped me understand that God
doesn’t necessarily care what prayer we say or how we say it, or perhaps what spiritual book we decide
to read. He just asks that we make ourselves available to him. It was when I was able to understand and
adopt this perception that I really began to see God working in my life.

Since then, I have seen God speak to me in so many different ways on so many different levels. It has
really helped me to see each situation for what it is, and more importantly, to appreciate it. One example
of God speaking to me took place just a few months back when a former player of mine texted me and
asked if I would be interested in chaperoning this year’s Steubenville retreat. It was an interesting
request, as I had never attended the retreat myself, but here I was being asked to chaperone.
This retreat was something I considered attending as a student. Despite the fact I hadn’t, I saw it as a
tremendous opportunity to step out of my comfort zone. I would be able to help not only those I have
coached, but all the young people attending this year’s conference to grow and develop in their faith. It’s
another example of how my players have encouraged and inspired me to become a better person and to
hold myself to a higher standard. And while I can’t say for certain what it is I expect from this conference
having never been there, if history tells us anything, when we make ourselves available to God and listen
to what He has to say, great things happen. This weekend, I believe with great confidence, will be no
exception, and I am incredibly thankful and honored to be just a small part of it.

God bless,
Kameron Riley

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Stephanie Kirvan

6/11/2018

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It never ceases to amaze me how the Lord uses different circumstances as opportunities to meet us right where we’re at as a means to show that he’s been right beside us all along, with open arms, waiting for us to invite Him in. Fr. Carlos’ ministry through the sacred relics was definitely no exception and proved to be a very powerful and humbling experience for me on a personal level and in ways I never imagined.

Like so many others, I had been looking forward to the relics display for weeks. But when the day finally arrived, I was anything but excited for that evening. It had been your typical cliché of a Monday- I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and it all went downhill from there. After an exhausting day of one thing going wrong after the next, the last thing I wanted was to even try to muster up the energy to go. But I had been so excited and knew I would be kicking myself later if I denied myself such an amazing opportunity. So, I fought the urge to stay home to binge-watch my latest Netflix obsession and forced myself to go.

The presentation itself was nothing short of captivating and inspiring. I had to fight back tears as visual images assaulted my minds-eye as I sat and listened to Fr. Carlos vividly recount the tragic events leading up to St. Maria Goretti’s last words and final breath. All I could picture was this innocent little girl (close in age as my own daughters) who, on her death bed and in all reality had every reason to hold on to self-pity, pain, anger, etc… but instead chose forgiveness. In those moments, she exuded more strength, courage and compassion than most people show in daily living (myself included). I couldn’t help but feel ashamed as the realization dawned that here I was, blessed with a healthy family, a roof over our heads and food on our table I had let such trivial mishaps completely dictate my whole day.

I wish I could say that revelation was all it took to flip a magic switch and it was all uphill from there. But it wasn’t. As we made our way to the activity center to view the relics it didn’t take long for all those anxious feelings I thought I had left back in the Church pew, to come rushing back to the surface. Being an introvert by nature and running on a short fuse to begin with that day, it didn’t take long for the large crowd, excessive chatter, my bickering girls and whiney 3 year old to completely overwhelm me. On the verge of a panic attack, I decided to walk the kids home and come back myself. Not knowing how late the display would run for, I was in a mad rush to get back, but much to my surprise, my keys had mysteriously disappeared and after about 10 minutes of recklessly searching only to come up empty-handed, I left even more frustrated (slammed door and all) than I was before.

Feeling completely defeated at this point, I started crying. I remember being thankful for the mask of night so passers-by couldn’t see what a complete and total mess I was. Then to top things off, the mental onslaught of verbal attacks started, offering every reason as to why I shouldn’t go back to the relics. With each reason more valid and logical than the next, it would have been so easy to just give in to my irrational annoyance that had become that day. Everything was screaming that I should just turn around and go back home to sleep it off. One low-blow in particular almost won that battle: “who are you, with all this anger, to be in a room full of so much goodness?” As if a calmer, more rational 3rd party suddenly joined the silent argument raging inside my head, the gentle words “who are you not to be there?” instantly followed that former thought.

Those words stopped me dead in my tracks and it was exactly what I needed to hear for that ‘magic switch’ to finally flip for me to see things through a different light. It finally sunk in that it’s at our darkest times that we need God’s love and mercy the most. It was in that moment that I realized it was the devil that had his grip on me that whole day, feeding me all these lies, because all those negative emotions were exactly why I needed to go back to the relics, not why I should stay away. I’m slowly learning that he attacks the hardest when we are on the verge of something good and amazing. He uses our flaws and insecurities against us to make us feel isolated. The more we learn to recognize his tricks, the less we become our own roadblocks to receiving God's love and the path of healing. So, I took a few minutes and in all of my imperfect, broken, unworthy glory, I did what I should have been doing all along, I prayed. Wholeheartedly. I renounced the darkness that had its hold on me that day. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to fill, heal and replace those parts of me. I prayed for the strength and courage I needed to be able to walk back through those doors and for a clear mind so I could just be present in the moment.

Once I regained my composure, I remember taking a deep breath as I opened the doors. I stepped through to see most of the crowd had left and the buzzing chatter was replaced with a soothing silence. As I exhaled in a sigh of relief, I felt this warm, deep calm wash over me and all of that stuff I was holding onto that day left with it. It felt like I could breathe easy for the first time that day. Aside from that and a strong pull to pray for a few certain individuals as I came up to a couple different relic displays, I didn’t really experience anything that felt extraordinary. I didn’t hear Church bells or feel a searing heat exude from any of the reliquaries. My right knee (which has been in chronic pain with swelling for the past several months due to an old injury) almost screamed at me as I knelt down to pray in front of the veil of Our Blessed Mother, but otherwise, I just felt at peace and found myself lingering until the very end because I didn’t want to leave. I even went home with that euphoric ‘high’ that often comes with adoration. When I got home I was also surprised to find my keys right on the counter, in plain sight, where I originally thought I left them. I think God knew I needed that time to walk back to sort through all that chaos in my head before I could fully experience the healing that came with that night!

The next morning, I woke up for the first time in months with no pain/swelling in my right knee whatsoever (which is what this article’s supposed to be about: my physical healing, because that’s all I really shared with anyone). Ironically, I don’t think I realized just how much spiritual healing I received that night until I began praying and reflecting to write about my encounter. I’m not generally an open book when it comes to personal matters of the heart like this, but Fr. Dennis recently reminded me that we must give Thanks to God for ALL the blessings He gives us. I think it would be a form of injustice if I omitted part of my experience due to fears of letting people see that side of me as a lousy attempt to preserve the façade that I don’t struggle with anger, impatience, and control just as much as the next person. Truth is, we all have bad days and we all have struggles, but not one of us can defeat them on our own. What that night taught me more than anything, is how important it is to learn to ask God for and be truly open and willing to receive His help and love. God is always there, with open arms, waiting to be invited in. And, as Fr. Carlos reminded, we can only hope to experience the Graces of His healing touch through true confession of our sins and through forgiveness. Tomorrow is always a fresh start, but you’re never too late in the day to ask for His help and turn things around.

I will be forever grateful to Fr. Carlos for blessing our community through his amazing ministry and introducing us to such an incredible 11 year old little girl that died so tragically over 100 years ago. I never would have guessed what an impact her story would have on me or how often I would find myself turning to her for strength, courage, and guidance since that ‘typical cliché of a Monday’, that will now always hold a special and positive place in my heart.

“Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.” –Jerry Bridges
God Bless!

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Kayla Feldpausch

6/5/2018

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So far, 2018 has not been my time to shine. I got that nasty flu in February, my first speeding
ticket the weekend I got engaged (although the engagement was a bright spot), and I’ve been to
the ER twice. The second ER trip is a funny story - I got a concussion from tripping backwards
and hitting my head on a windowsill after a mouse ran from under the couch at me - but after
that particular trip to the hospital, I found myself wanting to stay in my bedroom indefinitely. No
thanks, I did not need to see what else could possibly go wrong. I just wanted to fly under the
radar for awhile because sometimes, all the serious setbacks coupled with the embarrassment
of double-booking myself or pinching my hand in a microphone stand doesn’t feel worth it.

In those moments, I find myself buying into two lies. The first is that the whole year is a failure
because of all my blunders. The second is paired with a fear, the idea that life will always be like
this. These thoughts are pervasive, and color the way most of us view our lives and how we
react. The crazier life gets, the more I want to respond in either of two extremes: shutting down
completely or pushing myself way too hard to get through it. I see it all the time working in
ministry too. Many parents, when asked about the adult retreat, will respond with something like
“Life is too crazy right now with the kids; I can’t leave them right now.” In this and so many other
situations, we are quick to discount ourselves as failures and conclude that we can’t afford to
take any more risks, to make any more mistakes.

Shortly after Easter, in the midst of one of those crazy seasons, an adult choir member emailed
me to say, “I'm very thankful to have met you and been welcomed in the choir. It's really helped
me find time for myself and God. Life gets crazy with sports, kids, work, etc., and Wednesday
and Sunday have been a blessing to get away from it all.”

People have said many kind things to me in the course of my 2 years as the director of music
ministry, any of which are apt to make me cry or encourage me. But this particular email simply
got me excited. Why? It brought me back to the original vision for this music program.
Throughout high school and college, music was a sanctuary for me, a respite from all the
craziness of life. I knew that I could count on that one hour where I could walk into the room and
all I had to do for the next hour was sing and pray and be present to the rest of the group. It’s a
suspension of time and stress, with a simple purpose. I think we find our primary way to pray
when we find something like this, something we can enter into and value it as our time set aside
to just be with the Lord and those around us.

Of course, the ultimate goal of liturgical music is to give glory to God. I think we do this best
when we sing music that is truly beautiful, with lyrical depth and quality composition. But beyond
that, music must be a gift of prayer. It’s like the 1 Corinthians 13 verse that’s so popular at
weddings: “If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding
gong or a clashing cymbal.” If I play the most beautiful Bach prelude on the organ or direct a
choir that can sing a gorgeous 17th century Latin Mass, but they and I do not have love, then
we’re just making noise.

If I take my focus off all the ridiculous things that have felt like setbacks this year, I can see
instead that there is a ministry growing in love of God. The children’s choir had a really

incredible time of Eucharistic adoration during Lent where I had the joy of seeing them all kneel
right in front of the blessed sacrament, confidently singing the worship music we’d worked on for
the past few weeks. The adult choir sang a stunning Easter vigil, and from the conductor’s
podium, I could see incredible joy as they sang the music we’d worked so hard on. Even the
high school youth band, by far my busiest group and the one I got to spend the least time with
this year, they would show up for Mass and really pray the music, a gift which I know is the fruit
of so much time in Eucharistic adoration at retreats.

As choirs end for the summer, I’m using this time as a checkpoint to look back and rejoice in
what the Lord has done in our parish this year, as well as to discern how to move forward. I
would encourage you to take that time as well, to confront the accusations of failure and instead
see how God is working. Encounter Him in prayer and look for that place where you best enter
into time with Him. Who knows, maybe I’ll see you in choir next Fall!

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