This weekend, on the Solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, (note: not Sr. Joan the Baptist), Joan Sobala, SSJ, will be stepping down as the de facto pastorette of St. Anne and Our Lady of Lourdes churches in Rochester. If anyone is not well-acquainted with Sr. Joan and her policies of schism and dissent, click here.
In commemoration of this day, we have written a tongue-in-cheek adaptation of the timeless poem, “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.” It is decidedly pointed, but considering that the worst thing aimed at Sr. Joan is a humorous poem, I think everyone can agree that this is done only in good fun. If Sr. Sobala would like to pen a similar poem taking aim at Cleansing Fire, we would be more than willing to post this example of genuine dialogue.
‘Twas the day before Vespers, when all through the church
Not a hook was unused; trust me, I searched.
The cassocks were hung in the vestry with care,
In hopes that the acolytes soon would be there.
The clerics were nestled all snug in their beds,
While echoes of antiphons rang in their heads.
The bishop with his miter, and I in my cap,
Had just the worked out the rubrics, in hopes for a nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to sisters below.
When, what to my horrified eyes should present,
But our nuns dressed in albs, spewing forth a lament.
With a little old driver, declaring “dethrone,”
I knew in a moment it was Sr. Joan.
More rapid than eagles her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Matthew! now, Raymond! now, Charlotte and Gary!
On, Nancy! On, Jimmy! on Robert and Mary!
To the steps of the altar! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the steeples the coursers they flew,
With lavalier mics, and Joan Sobala, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little poof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Through the window came Joan, with an ungodly sound!
She was dressed all in white, from her head to her shoes,
And her alb was a sign of heretical views.
A folder of sermons she held in her hand,
Loudly proclaiming, “We had great things planned!”
Her eyes-how they squinted! Her forehead, how creased!
‘Round her neck was a sign, “I’m a wanna-be priest!”
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And hem of her alb was as white as the snow.
A ballpoint pen she held tight in her fingers,
And the rubbish it had written, doubtless still lingers.
She had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when she laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
She was fiery and desperate, a right angry old elf,
And I screamed when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A glare from her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had much still to dread!
She spoke many a word, and went straight to her work,
Denying authority, she then turned with a jerk.
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, up the belfry she rose!
She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, more like a hiss than a buzz,
“I am what I am, and it was what it was.”
Tags: Joan, St. Anne, Thou Shalt Laugh
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Excellent!
Farewell, Sr. Joan!
One down, too many to go.
HAHA!! Loved the Poem! So glad she is gone. Can’t wait for His Holyness Matthew to go next. I am hoping and praying for a good new Bishop who gets rid of everyone and starts fresh in the Diocese.
She has done so much damage to the Catholic community in our diocese….she will have to answer to the one and only Holy One someday and it ain’t gonna be pretty.
LMB :”it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
You indeed must be a very special person and have an incredibly intimate relationship with God to know the depth of the mind and anticipate the judgement of the Creator of the Universe.
Raymond F. Rice: I can only speculate and pray that she and all people of her mindset will be asked by the Creator of Universe what they truly did for the flocks that they were supposed to lead and not what they did for themselves.
I am not special in any sense of the word, just observant. I make no judgment. I leave that up to our Lord.
Luke 12:48
“Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.”
Perhaps she’ll don a habit, now she’s retired.
After reading all these comments, I really expect that the last judgement may have some riots and civil anarchy during the proceedings. I hope Michael and Raphael have on their riot gear and Gabriel can use a bullhorn!!
Speaking of one less lay pastoral administrator, I noticed that St. Mary’s downtown has lost theirs as well.
See page 3 of this week’s bulletin:
http://www.stmarysrochester.org/bulletins/2012/2012_07_15.pdf