There’s no doubting the impact a good pastor can have on one’s life, from theological and spiritual leadership to pastoral care. I’ve been fortunate to know some very good pastors in my lifetime, including one who was never actually my pastor: Monsignor Don Fischer, who passed away this week at age 86.
Msgr. Don, as he was known, was the voice of the Catholic Diocese of Dallas for many years on WRR-FM radio. Before the station ended their decades-long programming of local churches on Sunday mornings, you could hear Msgr. Don’s “Pastoral Reflections” and an hour later Wilshire’s worship service from the previous Sunday with George Mason. It was before live streaming, and if you caught one or both of them preaching, along with the scripture passages and musical selections included in their half hour, you felt like you’d really been to church.
I had never heard of Msgr. Don until my first wife Debra and I moved from near downtown into East Dallas and she started attending St. Bernard of Clairvaux Catholic Church where he was pastor. Debra was a lifelong Catholic with deep family roots in the church, but Msgr. Don had a way of interpreting the scriptures that was very personal and often mystical, and he had a warm, calm voice that made you feel like he was speaking directly to you. I know that was transformative to Debra’s faith.
At the same time Debra was discovering Msgr. Don, I joined Wilshire and was going through a spiritual renewal of my own. George was the church’s new pastor, and the congregation was energized by his words and leadership in ways that set the stage for the next chapters in the ministry and mission of the church.
Up until that time, Debra and I often attended church together – Sunday school with the Baptists and mass with the Catholics – but as we each got more involved in these dynamic congregations, our time in church together diminished. Even so, on any given Sunday over lunch we’d share what we’d heard, studied and felt that morning. We found there was more common ground than not, and the fact Wilshire followed the liturgical calendar put us on the same page quite literally.
When Msgr. Don was moved by the bishop of Dallas to St. Joseph Catholic Church in Richardson, Debra followed him there, but not for the usual reason of just following a favorite pastor. While at St. Bernard, she’d begun transcribing Msgr. Don’s weekly radio homilies into printable handouts, so she moved with him to continue that ministry. What’s more, using her talents in journalism and book publishing, she gently edited his extemporaneous homilies into readable reflections on the liturgy of the day. Eventually, she convinced him the homilies could be collected and published in books – one for each cycle of the liturgical year – and sold to support the radio ministry.
After Msgr. Don retired from full-time pastoring in 2010, he continued the radio program until the station changed formats, and he started a non-profit called Pastoral Reflections Institute. Through that outlet, he led retreats and seminars locally and continued annual pilgrimages to Italy he had begun while pastor at St. Joseph. Debra was able to go on two of those life-changing trips, the last one while being treated for cancer.
That led to perhaps the most significant visit either of us had with Msgr. Don on what turned out to be Debra’s last night. Wanting to do something “Catholic” for her as she slept, I found the little vials of oil and holy water she brought back from Italy and anointed her forehead with a sign of the cross while reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Dissatisfied with my effort, I had a sudden flash of clarity; I went to the St. Joseph web site, found a phone number for pastoral care, and left a message.
“At least I tried,” I thought and let it go, but 30 minutes later the doorbell rang and it was Msgr. Don. It was maybe 3 a.m. and he’d come. With the sound of the oxygen machine whirring in the background, he administered the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, which is part of the Last Rites. And then he and I went into the next room where we sat and talked for a moment. He said others had been asking about Debra because she’d been absent from church for a few weeks. “I told them Debra is very private, and my guess is we’ll hear sometime soon that she’s passed,” he told me. He was right on target about that, knowing Debra as he did.
Debra’s funeral mass and burial were in her hometown of Victoria, but we had a memorial mass for her at St. Joseph and I arranged for George to join Msgr. Don at the altar. George’s participation was limited by the rules of the Catholic church, but his presence was a comfort to me as I’m sure it was to many Wilshire friends who came to an unfamiliar church to support me and Debra’s family. I was motivated to do the same recently for a Wilshire friend whose mother’s memorial service was at White Rock United Methodist Church, right next door to St. Bernard of Clairvaux where my journey with Msgr. Don began.
The last time I saw Msgr. Don was some years later at one of his seminars at the University of Dallas. The world had turned a few times and brought new blessings, and I was pleased to introduce him to LeAnn during a short break. He was friendly and warm but pressed for time, but that was fine. I wasn’t expecting or needing a long conversation. He was busy pastoring those who had come, and that was how I knew him best.