Mission Stories
An outrageous love discovered
Brett and Valerie handed me an envelope with an exuberant and sincere “thank you.” It was the end of the Sunday evening concert, and as the packed church started to flow over into the reception, it was clear that this couple had intended to see me that night. I don’t recall having met them during either of my two prior missions in this parish; still, they seemed very familiar.
“Please read this when you have a few moments alone. We are so grateful for all that you do.”
Here’s what their letter said:
“Dear Mr. Ambrosetti,
When you presented your first parish mission here four years ago, we couldn’t attend. We were too angry. Two weeks earlier, we learned that I was pregnant. The pregnancy was both unexpected and unwelcome, and a few days before you arrived, we terminated it. Your mission couldn’t have happened at a worse time for us. Because we hadn’t yet sorted out our thoughts and emotions, your mission was also unexpected and unwelcome.
When you arrived for your second parish mission here two years ago, we simply had to attend. After searching our hearts, we began to understand that our anger was really with ourselves. How could we have been so self-absorbed, so utterly selfish? During the experience of this second mission, we were able to begin to mourn the loss of our child, we were able to turn to God to ask for His mercy and His forgiveness. Throughout the entire mission, we wept. We wept tears of sorrow, tears of remorse and eventually, tears of gratitude for God’s kind and generous mercy.
As we begin this third mission with you, we are filled to overflowing with joy and gratitude for your powerful message: of God’s outrageous love, of His compassion and enduring presence, of His relentless pursuit of our hearts, of His ever faithful and lasting embrace.
Your talks, your songs, your missions have carried us back into His love and goodness. We welcome your return, and we wouldn’t miss this for the world!”
Hope for every age, food for every generation.
Joshua came to me after the final night of the mission. He had been there every night, serving, listening, taking it all in; and, although he was only nine years old, he was clearly well formed in knowledge, grace and wisdom. Each evening, I had thanked him for his faithful service. Still, I was taken aback when this little man in a boy’s disguise said to me: “You’ve touched my life this week, and I don’t think that I’ll ever be the same. Thank you!”
Today, Father Joshua has touched countless lives with the self-emptying love of Christ. Even more, he is responsible for the formation of seminarians as they prepare for a life of service, compassion and prayer.
An unexpected awakening.
At the conclusion of his parish mission, Father Dawson Trenchard, the pastor of Resurrection Parish, wrote this:
“I wasn’t happy about your arrival at our parish. I hadn’t scheduled you; my associate had, and I just didn’t know what to expect.
Now, as we come to the end of our mission days together, I want you and your team to know:
This has been the most powerful, transforming experience of my priesthood. I will never stop thanking God for your presence here, and I will pray always for the reach and endurance of your ministry.”
God is ever with us.
The second war in Iraq had just begun. Without thinking, I contacted Father (General) Bill Charboneau whom I had come to know through a parish mission in South Windsor, CT. Now a two-star general at the Pentagon, he directed me to Monsignor Montecalvo, the chief of chaplains for the United States military. I asked him to help me to provide missions for those who had been deployed to Iraq.
Two days later, he phoned: “I have good news, bad news and good news. Which do you want first?” Through the phone, all I could do was smile; it was as though he could hear me.
“Your security clearance has been approved, but…we can’t let you go. They just tore down Saddam’s statue in the square, and it’s too volatile; it just isn’t safe. However, we’ve had a request for you to give a parish mission on one of our marine bases in the USA.” “Where are you sending me, Monsignor?”
“Kanahoe Bay, Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaii.”
“Let me get this straight: I asked you to send me to Iraq, and you’re sending me to Hawaii?”
“Welcome to the United States military, Mr. Ambrosetti.”
When I landed in Honolulu, Monsignor (Captain) Estabrook and his RP (Religious Personnel) met me at the airport. Monsignor Estabrook, an instant friend, welcomed me with open arms, but because he was responsible for the entire Pacific Theatre, he had to attend to some pressing matters and left me in the care of his RP, Corporal Austin Stukins. When we were alone, Austin explained: “Chaplain Estabrook put me in charge of the mission because I hounded him to bring you here. You see, I had been baptized a Catholic as an infant and my Mom brought me to church each Sunday. One weekend, at 11 years old, I heard you speak and sing during Mass at St. Jerome Catholic Church in Waco, TX.
Even though very young, I just knew that this was life-changing, and I forced my Baptist mother to bring me to your parish mission. We sat in the front pew every night, and I was mesmerized. When it was over, it was really just the beginning for me, and for us. For the first time, my faith was now the defining influence of my life. Seeing the passion of my believing and recognizing this amazing gift through my eyes, my Mom became a Catholic as well.
So, I knew that you had to come here to K Bay. Most of us, if not all of us, here will be deployed to Iraq. None of us knows what the future holds – for us, for our loved ones, or even if we will ever return. Before we leave this place, I want my fellow marines to be assured of the love, the mercy and the goodness of the God Who made us. Then, no matter what happens, we’ll rest in the confidence of our Maker’s care. I am eternally grateful that you have come.”
Countless hearts were transformed, and many, many lives were commended to the protection of our God.
Corporal Stukins was deployed, and subsequently returned to continue to share his faith without compromise.
Monsignor Estabrook became Bishop Joseph Walter Estabrook, auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of US Military services, my brilliant advisor, confidant and amazing friend. After a journey through pancreatic cancer, he is now with God. For me and for many, he was the most powerful and most faithful model of the self-emptying love of Christ. In the years before his passing, I was privileged to present many parish missions with Bishop Estabrook, and for always, he continues to live at the heart of Faith on Fire Missions.
Nothing is impossible with God.
As we approached the end of a very full Saturday, Father Terry advised us that we would be having dinner at the home of parishioners two blocks from the church. They had insisted on preparing a meal for us. Mass had just ended, and we decided to walk the short distance.
Father Terry blessed our meal, and as the food made its way around the table into our plates, this young couple couldn’t wait to share their story.
Jen said: “Steven and I were in the middle of a divorce. His drinking, his temper and his never-ending abuse had destroyed our relationship. Then, you came for the last mission.”
“I never went to church,” added Steven, “but, for some reason, I sat in the back pew at the Saturday Mass. Maybe, it was because it seemed that I had run out of options, and my life, my marriage, my family were spiraling out of control. When I heard you that day invite me to come, I knew that I had to say ‘yes.’ The next four days changed my heart and changed my life.”
“He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since that day. When the mission ended, he was a new person: No more drinking, no more anger, no more abuse.”
“We wanted you to join us for dinner because we want you to know that your work, your music, your message has made a huge difference for us. You saved our marriage, our family, maybe even our lives. Please, don’t ever stop.”
God never gives up on us.
I had led this musical exercise before, but I had never witnessed the scene before me now. At a Couples for Christ conference in Seattle, WA, I instructed each couple to face one another and repeat the short refrain of my song: “I will love you with an everlasting love.” (Jeremiah 31). As they sang this chorus with me over and over again, I asked them to look deeply into one another’s eyes, into one another’s hearts, and through this musical promise, to commit their love and to commend their lives anew.
As I looked into the crowd, I witnessed one couple who inexplicably sobbed as they sang. Although mystified by the intensity of their response, I continued with this powerful exercise, this intense profession.
When the event had ended, I was directed to a room where the leaders of the conference were waiting to meet socially with me. It had been a beautiful night; still, I was left wondering about the couple that had wept.
The next morning, as I walked through the lobby toward breakfast, they nearly tackled me. It was the crying couple! But now, they were uncontainably joyous, and they said that they had to speak with me. They explained: “We were getting a divorce. This conference was our last-ditch effort. We were convinced that our marriage had ended, and although we had promised our priest that we would come, neither of us really knew why we were here…until last night.
When you invited us to sing the words of the prophet with you, all of the pain, the disappointment, the disillusionment, the anger, the upset, it all went away. And without a word, we knew, we could see in each other’s eyes that we were one again, that we just couldn’t give up on our marriage. We now know that with God, nothing is impossible. It’s as though we’re in love for the very first time, but now with a commitment that will never end. If God loves us with an everlasting love, then with His help, we will love one another as well.”
Comfort in the darkest night.
It was the night of reconciliation, and we had just celebrated the forgiveness and mercy of God. She waited until the very end and approached me in the narthex of the church. “Could I please speak with you for a moment?” “Of course,” I said, as I directed her through the double doors into the last pew in the nave of the church.
She handed me an envelope and made an odd request: “Would you mind reading it while we’re here together?”
I opened the letter and began to read. It was both heart-wrenching and consoling, and when I finished, it had brought me to tears.
Jennifer had been to our parish mission nine years earlier. This beautiful twelve-year old struggled throughout the mission to rest in the loving embrace of God, because each night at the end of each experience, she returned to a violently abusive home. Yet, she went on to explain that the music and the message of the mission spoke to her soul; and when the screaming and brutality began, she discovered that the headphones on her CD player giving her God’s Word of comfort and assurance became the only solace that she knew.
There in the back pew of the church, she looked at me through my tears and said: “This mission, your message, your music…they saved my life. Thank you.”
Today, Jennifer is a professional counselor at a county center for high-risk tweens and teenagers, giving them encouragement and sanctuary in the face of difficult circumstances. Her love of God is so evident that she is simply unable to contain it. And the youth of her parish cannot help but know our loving God through her uncontainable enthusiasm and presence as a volunteer leader in the parish youth ministry. On occasion, she shows up at a Faith on Fire Mission just to help in any manner that we need, and she is always a welcome, smiling, enthusiastic addition to our team.