Anyhow, as I held cradled my son (I pray the rosary as a part of my "putting Vince to bed" routine), I felt ashamed by my sadness upon losing Incarnation School. Our Lady suffered far worse in losing her Son to Calvary, and she bore it with the full faith that God deemed this Sacrifice necessary to reconcile humanity to Heaven.
The sacrifice of Incarnation is a deep wound to those who have given their lives to educating children there. My mother, having taught for 31 years (28, I think, spent at Incarnation) is one of the ones most wounded by this consolidation. It pains me to see her so hurt, but turning against the Church or angrily railing against God isn't going to help anyone.
So many folks are angry with priests, bishops, God... the commentary on the threads surprised me. While the Archdiocese bears an awful lot of responsibility for our school system falling apart, the parishioners do as well. How many alumni funneled money back into their parishes? How many families helped with fundraising or offered to volunteer their services to help cut costs? How many folks donated library books, gym equipment, etc?
Though I do believe much of the responsibility lies with the poor administration and fiscally irresponsible Archdiocesan cogs, we can't shirk responsibility ourselves. We've all had a hand to play in this, for as painful as that is to realize.
Bah. Not that it matters. What's done is done. Our local community is hurting right now. We're going to continue to hurt for many years as a result of this. It is a devestating blow. Satan probably smugly looks on, proud of the job he's done in stifling more of our Catholic heritage. We must not turn on one another right now - making a bad situation worse. We really do need to band together and make the most of this situation.
Pentecost was the birthday of the Church. This triumphant rebirth (a restoration, really) could not have happened without the immense sorrow of the Passion. I was comforted by that - I think God was just trying to tell me "Look, things seem really horrible right now, but have faith. I'm steering this ship, and I'm always headed towards the glorious horizon. I will get you to Heaven's shores safely."
So while I still feel deep sadness for my family and friends at Incarnation, I truly do have a sense of peace about it. My heart will no doubt be broken a million times the day they close for good, but at least I know God has plans for each and every one of the folks displaced and broken by this consolidation. May we see the peace of that glorious horizon soon, Lord.