Holy Name Church, Bloomfield
We had just crossed the meandering White River looking for Crossroads Café. According to the friendly parishioner sitting near us, it was the only place open on a Sunday morning near Bloomfield. Yet, just as soon as we started looking for the inconspicuous little diner, we realized that we had gone too far and had to double back on Highway 54. Just a minor detour in what was a tour winding down to its final stops.
For the last time, our destination demanded an early wakeup call and journey from Evansville. Just a few hours before we woke for a 6:15 departure, the time had officially sprung forward an hour with spring coming in a couple of weeks. As we got onto I-69, the bright, almost-full moon hung low in the west as the morning twilight slowly surged from the east. We were headed northward to Bloomfield. It would just be Mom joining our family that day, and our collective thoughts and conversations came back to my brother, Mike, whose first journalism job was at the Bloomfield Press. The paper had long since gone defunct, but Mike had made his way to the national scene with U.S. News and World Report. During his tenure at the Bloomfield Press, he and a friend of his working in Bloomington lived next to the naval base at Crane in a small rental house. Word was that the stray cats that visited his backdoor everyday almost outnumbered the citizens in this tiny, Midwestern town.
That morning, our mind was also on our previous pastor, Father Paul Ferguson, who had grown up in Holy Name Parish before he was ordained to the priesthood. In the past couple of years, he had relocated to Our Lady of Hope in Washington, Indiana; but his time at Holy Redeemer in Evansville was not soon forgotten. Much was on our mind when we arrived at the parish of His holy name.
As Mass prepared to start, I quickly recognized Father Joseph Erbacher from our previous visit at St. Peter in Linton, where he also presided as the Pastor. He was again wearing what appeared to be a black, Russian fur cap; and upon seeing us during his walk up the aisle, he greeted and briefly interacted with us for the first of multiple times that day. As the Liturgy of the Eucharist began, he invited all the children in the church to stand with him around the altar. Sheepishly, our oldest kids joined their enthusiastic younger siblings and a few other children from the church. Far away from their home parish, our children were once-again given an opportunity to witness the celebration of the timeless Mass in an intimate, unique way.
Sitting in the Crossroad’s Café afterwards, watching my kids attempt to gulp down as much syrup as possible from the oversized plastic containers, it was clear that our family was again at a growing point. A few weeks earlier, we had purchased a certified bus—according to the vin number—because our seventh child would be arriving before the next historical stop took place. It would be the first time we owned two vehicles for 10 years. I could never have imagined that almost 17 years ago, when Amy and I were married, we would be the parents of seven children. It wasn’t the only major surprise that had come along the way. But as everyone loaded back into the 12- passenger Nissan NV—the bus—for the ride back home, it was safe to say that having a child for every day of the week was the most visible – and most audible – sign of our Catholic journey.
“Bless the Lord, O My Soul
“O My Soul, Worship His Holy Name
“Sing Like Never Before
“O My Soul, Worship His Holy Name”
– Lyrics from “10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord),” by Matt Redmond and Jonas Myrin
This reflection is from Jim Schroeder’s book “The Evansville Diocese Historical Tour: Footprints of Our Catholic Brethren.” Jim, his wife, Amy, and their kids live in Evansville. They are parishioners at Holy Redeemer Parish. Jim is a pediatric psychologist and Vice President of the psychology department at Easterseals Rehabilitation Center. “The full story, including illustrations, is available on Amazon or with his other books and articles at www.james-schroeder.com.”