Chapter 6

REBECCA

I was the only non-Catholic with our Christmas Midnight Mass party. Jerry and I invited Dan and Jack to join Agnes and her visitors to join us. At the cathedral, we were joined by my closest friend, Helene, and her daughter Stephanie. Julie volunteered to stay home with April. Jack informed everyone that he planned to receive communion because it celebrated that all of us were connected in a spiritual union of love. Nearly everyone looked at Jerry for his reaction. My good husband very emphatically agreed with Jack and said he planned to receive communion and hoped all of us would join him because of the warmth and caring he felt with everyone.

Helene was the only one who had ever attended Midnight Mass at the cathedral and encouraged us to get there early if we wanted to sit down. We arrived at 11:05 and only a few seats were available in the back of the church. The choir began singing traditional Christmas hymns only five minutes later. The choir looked to be about fifty-person strong and their music was enough to lift anyone's spirit—Catholic, other Christian, or no religion at all. It was fantastic. We all gawked around like the tourists we were. The cathedral was known for its wonderful array of mosaics. The setting and the music, I believed, was a fitting celebratory touch to the wondrous reunion of Dan and Eileen.

The Mass servers began the procession down the center aisle, followed by four priests, and, in the final place of honor, came the Archbishop of St. Louis. It was a splendid show.

The beauty and marvelous celebration was brought to an abrupt halt when the archbishop, after a time-honored explanation of the meaning of Christmas, took advantage of the large congregation to declare, "This Christmas, we celebrate the incarnation of Almighty God, and we grieve the fact that this year of Our Lord, 2015, the Supreme Court of our great country declared that gay and lesbian couples could be legally united in marriage." He went on to call it an abomination, sinful, and wrong in every way and must be reversed and condemned. I looked over at Dan, Jan, and Eileen. Dan's face was twisted in anger.

As the archbishop kept on with his harangue, Dan quietly slipped out of the pew and walked toward the back of the cathedral. I thought he was leaving and then saw him walking up the left side aisle toward the altar. He stood near the pulpit which was several steps up from the sanctuary floor. Dan waited until the archbishop came down the stairs and headed for the celebrant's throne, then he walked up the few steps.

Dan, being taller than the archbishop, raised the mike a few inches and said, solemnly: "Your Excellency, Archbishop, fellow Christians, I have a wonderful Christmas experience I would like to share with you. Twenty years ago, my wife and I agreed with everything the archbishop just said about homosexuality. And twenty years ago, our beautiful seventeen-year-old daughter told us that she was a lesbian." A priest and a layman moved toward the pulpit but the archbishop, to his credit, waved them away.

Dan continued in a strong and even voice, "Thinking we were good Catholics at the time, we told her she was being sinful, and if she did not repent, she could no longer be our daughter. We disowned her. We completely lost her. Four years ago, my wife, our daughter's mother, died. I had no way to inform our daughter of our loss. Even before my wonderful wife died, a great friend, Jack Carroll, taught us that homosexuality is an orientation, not a choice. It is the way God makes some of us. They are blessed by God, and definitely do not sinfully choose to be gay or lesbian. They can and often do choose to be loving persons. Today, by chance or divine grace, I am visiting friends here in St. Louis. They invited their neighbor to join us for dinner. The neighbor's daughter brought her lesbian married partner with her." Dan paused, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes and with tears falling down his face, said, "Her partner is my beautiful daughter, Eileen, whom I had not seen in twenty years. I firmly believe that Jesus came into the world to bring love for everyone. And now I am celebrating the finest Christmas in my life—a Christmas I am sure is blessed by our Lord Jesus who manifests a loving God. I hope all of you have such a love-filled Christmas."

I could not hold back, I stood and clapped. I was so proud to know this courageous man named Dan. Jerry and Jack stood and began clapping, as did Jan, Eileen, Agnes, Stephanie, and Helene. As far as I could tell, more than half of the entire congregation was giving Dan a standing ovation. I noticed that two laymen were talking with Dan. Dan shook their hands and with his head held high, a big smile on his face, and with tears flowing down his cheeks, he walked down the center aisle. People reached out to touch his hands, some shook a fist, but Dan just walked on. Jerry and I moved so Eileen would be the first to give him a hug. "Thank you, Daddy. That was sooo wonderful. I love you, and I have missed you so much."

We all went to communion, thinking, knowing, I'm sure, that love can overcome all setbacks. I think I may become a surrogate Catholic—or maybe I already did by marrying Jerry. We deliberately joined the queue waiting to receive communion from the archbishop. When it came time for Dan to receive the communion wafer, the archbishop froze. I was standing right behind Dan and I heard him whisper, "Archbishop, I honestly believe Jesus would give me communion." The Archbishop hesitated a bit longer, then put the wafer in Dan's hand. My own hand was shaking as I received the wafer.

Helene and Stephanie joined us at home to celebrate a wonderful Christmas with some wine, beer, and soda. I excused myself and went to our office to write a brief article on our cathedral experience.

Christmas morning, we opened presents; most for April and Julie, but some for the four adults, including Dan and Jack. At breakfast, we began talking about the Mass and the better of the two sermons when the phone rang. I answered it and had to hold the phone away from my ear as Eileen nearly shouted, "Did you see this morning's paper?"

"No, we haven't even ventured outside. What's up?"

Eileen said, "If we can come over to your house, I'll pick up your paper on the way, Okay?"

"Sure, come on over. What is it?" I turned to our living-room gathering and said, "Our neighboring trio are coming over and bringing the paper. Eileen sounded very excited."

It took only a minute for the trio to open the front door and hand me the paper. I opened it and found the front page of the Metro section and read the lead headline out loud: STATE PRISON GUARD CHALLENGES THE ARCHBISHOP, with a smaller headline: 'After Archbishop condemns same-sex marriage, Guard Sergeant McGuire takes the podium and shares his reunion with his lesbian daughter—and gets standing ovation!'

I read it out loud and added. "Wow! I didn't mention Dan's name. I wonder where they got it?"

Both Dan and Jerry said, "Let me see that thing." I gave it to Jerry because he was closer to me. He read, 'Dan McGuire, head of the guards at Booneville, Missouri State Prison, while visiting St. Louis ...' It goes on and tells it pretty much the way it happened."

Dan took the paper and after a quick glance, said, "It doesn't mention your last name, Eileen. Do you still use my family name?"

Eileen seemed proud to announce, "Sure, Daddy, except it is hyphenated now: McGuire-Schmidt. I'm sure it won't affect my work in Chicago."

The phone rang and Jerry got up to answer it. I heard him say, "Yes, Warden, he is here and we just finished breakfast." Of course, I couldn't hear what was said on the other end of the line, but I did hear, "Okay, I'll call you 'Henry' unless there is prison staff or personnel around. I'll put Dan on."

Dan didn't sound nervous as he said, "Hi, Henry, Merry Christmas." Of course I could hear only Dan's side of the conversation. A brief moment later, "It was wonderful - the first Midnight Mass I have attended since Mary died." Then, "Yes, I just read this morning's Post-Dispatch. Rebecca Brady wrote most of it and sent it to a friend who is night editor at the Post. Rebecca didn't use my name, she said," After a short pause, "The archbishop called you? What did he have to say?"

Dan sat down and repeated, "What kind of radical school are we running in Booneville?" He chuckled and said, "Yeah, I would say we now have five members of our radical program - and only three are Catholic - Jerry Haloran, Jack Carroll, and me. Only two heathens, you and Rebecca." Dan winked at me and I smiled back. "Oh, tomorrow, we'll add a sixth, an African-American woman Jerry found. I don't know whether or not she's Catholic. And what difference does this make, Henry?"

We were all quiet as mice, even April stayed quiet as she kept looking at everyone with a puzzled expression on her face. We heard, "Oh, so you want to know how many people the archbishop thinks he's got under his thumb? You can tell him he can be assured that there is no one under his big, ancient thumb."

Dan hung up the phone and announced, "Well, the warden isn't exactly happy, but I still have a job."

April joined us and we all clapped.

I never heard Jan sing before, but in a beautiful soprano voice, she began singing, "Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes, are calling. From glen to glen Jerry and Jack both joined her and at the end, Agnes said, "Now that will be my favorite Christmas song."