MY FAVORITE PRIEST

The priest of Culpeper

By Rita Ann Pfeiffer

n As one who spent only one hour with Father Maurice du Castillon, I feel the least qualified to tell the story of this missionary priest. This would best be left to others-his life-long friends, confreres and brother priests who have had their lives and vocations touched and enriched by him. But I was no less blessed than they with just sixty minutes of Father Maurice's time.

The circumstances surrounding my meeting of Father Maurice on Father's Day in June of 1989 were providential. I would even call it a divine set-up. The significance of Father's Day will become apparent later.

One Sunday while I was leaving my parish in Arlington, Virginia to make Communion visits at the local hospital, my pastor asked if I would deliver a message to Father Maurice who had been hospitalized. My normal assignment at the hospital was maternity and pediatrics so I decided to deliver my message to "Father" first.

On my way to the hospital I can remember worrying about Eucharistic protocol. I had never visited a priest in the hospital before. What would I say-what would I do?

An answer to a prayer

I knocked on the hospital room door, and my concerns were forgotten as soon as I entered the room. "You're an answer to my prayer," he said. He was seated in the corner of the room, his eyes bright, and he had a smile that never left his face. He told me that he had just informed the dear Lord that he didn't much care to be in the hospital and he was feeling a bit lonely.

The room had the aura of a chapel, and I softly delivered my pastor's message. Well, mission accomplished-I was free to leave. I couldn't. I didn't want to. I was a willing captive in the visitor's chair. The crying babies and their mommies and daddies would have to wait.

We both dispensed with the usual "small talk" that you hear in hospitals, and our conversation immediately turned to spiritual matters and the goodness of the dear Lord. The hour I spent with Father Maurice had a numinous quality about it.

I believe it's true that the most powerful religious experiences come from our contacts with others. The memories of my time with Father Maurice will remain in my mind as vividly as a vision.

Missionary life

He told me the story of his life and priesthood. How he was born in Belgium in 1903 and was ordained to the priesthood in 1927. And completing one year of medical school in Louvain he departed for China in 1929. With a twinkle in his eye, he told me how he used to travel from church to church by horse as he served Chinese Catholics in a parish that encompassed hundreds of square miles.

I thought how good God is. This priest traveled and served in the far corners of the world and God chose to grant me this time with him in the corner of a hospital room.

Because his order was sending more missionaries to China in 1940, Father Maurice was recalled to Belgium to teach Chinese to new confreres, where he remained for six years.

In 1946, Father Maurice was sent to the United States to assist in establishing new mission territory here and was appointed pastor of Precious Blood Catholic Church in Culpeper, Virginia. He is still fondly remembered by the people there as "the priest of Culpeper."

Although in the ensuing years he was recalled to teach at the Order's Belgium headquarters, he always returned to serve the Catholics in Culpeper. He was a missionary to the Blue Ridge here, and he came at a time when to be a Catholic-unless you were Italian or Irish-was considered something strange. Pioneer that he was, he worked hard at it, and the establishment of churches in Madison, Culpeper, and Orange, Virginia are largely the result of his efforts.

Father Maurice recalled his first days in this area, and the reaction he received when people found out he was a Catholic priest. "I used to doff my hat and turn around to prove to them that I didn't have horns and a tail," he remembered with a chuckle. "Many people had never seen a Catholic-much less a priest."

"This is not a priest with an identity crisis," I thought as Father Maurice continued. He loved being a priest and he loved being a missionary. His eyes brightened even more as he gave thanks for the Holy Mass, the Word of God, and the Eucharist. I knew I was in the presence of a very spiritual man. Prayer was his oxygen. His whole face prayed. I wanted to hear more.

"I have a beautiful life. A beautiful missionary life. A beautiful priestly life. I thank the dear Lord. I am so happy. I love it, I love it, I love all of it."

A Father's Day gift

In order to tell the complete story of my special hour with Father Maurice, I need to tell some further personal details.

During our conversation, I told Father that I was abandoned by my father when I was an infant. I was disarmed by his reaction. He did not make any judgment about my father, nor affirm my "victimhood." Father closed his eyes and envisioned what our heavenly Father would say to me at the end of my life when he welcomed me as his daughter. Father Maurice's words were too beautiful to describe, but I can tell you that they changed my life.

Father's Day was always a difficult time for me with all the commercial attention devoted to Father's Day cards, telephone calls, and sentimental remembrances. On Father's Day, 1989, I was given a beautiful spiritual gift by this holy priest.

Each Father's Day I will always remember Father Maurice in a special way and continue to marvel at how God compensates us for what is lacking in our lives in such surprising ways.

At the age of 87, the 69th year of his religious-missionary profession, the 64th year of his priesthood, Father Maurice du Castillon was called to his "dear Lord," when he died in his sleep the morning of November 15, 1990.

In his long missionary experience he served the dear Lord wherever he was sent. I thank God that I was placed in his path this one particular Father's Day. n