My View
By Father Paul Caron
On Monday evening January 10, 2000, I received a call from Fr. John Perry, a friend who was also the head of personnel for the Diocese of Fall River. He asked me if I had ever thought of going to Nantucket as the pastor. I told him that I had never even visited Nantucket, never mind thought about moving there. I didn't even want to go to the Cape. He told me that Fr. Lopes was leaving the island and that he wanted me to come over and "take a look." Now I had only

been pastor in my parish for

three-and-a-half years and was not ready to leave. But, obediently, on January 20, I came and stayed with Fr. Lopes and took a gander at the island.

I was up early the next morning and was walking around a deserted Main Street when gentle flakes of snow began to fall. It was like a scene on a picture post card. I was instantly smitten. I looked up to the heavens and thought: "Okay God, this looks like a sign. I think I'll throw my hat into the ring and write for the parish and see what happens." The next thing I knew, I was called by then Bishop Sean O'Malley and told that I would be the next pastor of St. Mary's parish. The rest, as they say, is history. I washed ashore here on Thursday, June 15, and my first weekend consisted of two weddings on Saturday followed by all four weekend Masses. That was a baptism by fire.

The island was still a mystery to me. I really didn't know how I would get along with everyone. There are so many different groups, from the year-rounders to the six-month people, the two-month people, and the short termers. Besides that, it is not like any assignment on the mainland. Over there you get two days off each week. Here you get away when and if you can get coverage. The result of all of this is that you either love it here or hate it.

But as I said before, I was smitten. The people and the community of Nantucket are special. During my time here we have been able to embrace each other in so many ways and to celebrate all the joys of life as well as to mourn all of the losses that we have all felt. We celebrated the conclusion of the restoration of St. Mary's Church and the installation of the magnificent Bigelow Organ. We have been able, through the generosity of an "angel" in the parish, to completely bring the rectory house up to the dignity the building deserves. Electrical, plumbing, roofing, siding and other major renovations have made the old Charles Robinsondesigned Italianate building (1869) at 6 Orange St. a wonderful place to live.

But accomplishments on buildings are not of true importance, nor are they the reason we exist as community. The most important aspect of parish life is the people. The pastor might be asked by the bishop to lead a parish, but I firmly believe that the pastor is a member of that parish, and not above it. The church is not just an institution, but as Canon Law describes it, it is the "people of God." That makes us who we are and continue to be. And I must say that I have experienced "church" here more than any other place I have been in my 24 years of priesthood.

I am grateful that you have let me into your lives and into your hearts in all those special and vulnerable times. We have celebrated the baptisms of your children, yours or their marriages, the sacraments of the sick and reconciliation. We have gathered around and prayed as our loved ones went home to God. And at our funerals we have bid farewell to so many of our loved ones. And through all of this we have experienced the strength and the presence of God's Spirit alive in us.

I know this weekend there will be folks thanking me for this or that, but I would like to tell you here and now that you have all done more for me than I could possibly have done for you. This is a unique community and parish. You should all be very proud of yourselves.

I have to share with you something that happened last January. The day before I had a scheduled appointment with the Bishop I was answering questions from some of our third grade religious education students. Always blunt, one of them asked: "What is your least favorite thing about being a priest?" My response was: "It is most difficult in having to say goodbye to the people you have shared so much with for so long. I always pray that I can stay just a little longer." Unfortunately, I turned out to be a prophet. The next day I found out I was being moved. It was a difficult thing to accept. But we as diocesan priests promise obedience and respect to the person of the Bishop.

But in spite of it all, as Bob Mooney said to me: "Well, it's been a great run." Indeed it has.

I hate saying "goodbye" to you all, so I will just say "so long." Thank you all, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, from the "Bench Rats" to the daily communicants for making the last seven years the happiest years of my priesthood. It is with God's love and affection that I hold you in my heart in prayer. Please remember me in yours as well. May God love and bless you all.

Father Caron leaves the island next week for St. Rita's Church in Marion, Mass.