We have played one game on the Auld Sod. Now we come home to the Hallowed Ground. Notre Dame Stadium is a sacred place. This is the place where the Irish faithful gather. And so in my priestly capacity, I offer these prayers for those faithful, in the joyful hope that we might begin a season unblemished by defeats, inspired by confidence, exalted by victory.
Besides, lately our Stadium has been as quiet as a church, so we might as well treat it like one.
Thus, we dare to pray…
That having brought into the one mystical body of the Irish, lads from across the country and around the world (Hawaii), Professor Kelly may comingle them into a holy offense, a royal defense, a team set apart, we pray…
That the Irish may be forgiven for their past transgressions, for what they have done and what they have failed to do, in the red zone, in the red zone, always in the red zone, we pray…
That here in this place may be gathered the loudest, most boisterous fans who stand before the field of competition and offer their hearts, hands, and voices, so that the pumpkinshuckers boilermakers are made to tremble and are swept up as in a mighty wind, we pray…
That the devil Osbourne may be cast out, we pray…
That the venerable hands of our quarterback (N.) may be strong and sure, abounding in accuracy and rich in touchdowns, we pray…
That into the gracious arms of our receivers may be guided the unworthy pigskin which, having been touched by the impure boilermakers, needs the cleansing fire that comes only through entry into the Irish end zone; and that this salvific return to the right and just end zone may be repeated as many times as there are stars in the sky and sands on the shore, we pray…
For Pope Benedict (sorry, it’s a requirement), we pray…
That the Sacred Name recorded in Scripture as the tetragrammaton, may never be uttered by the impious, and that the profane name of four letters, which has shown the depth of its infidelity and iniquity, may never be watched at 9:00, 3:00, 6:00, 11:00, and 1:00, we pray…
That our first season ticket holder, the Blessed Mother, clothed with the sun and seated in her usual seats, may not have her glorious voice banished by the agents of silent death, the ushers, we pray…
That before and after the game, many tables of refreshment may be spread where all loyal sons and daughters are welcomed with breads of life, with cups of salvation, and also with your spirits, we pray…
That in the fullness of time – but forsaking all overtime – when the Irish have begun the season with two resounding victories, every tear shall be wiped away and every naysayer shall mourn his perfidy, we pray…
I offer these prayers for you, Fighting Irish, and for the many – but not for all, because that would include the likes of wolverines, spartans, sooners, trojans, eagles, and boilermakers (even though the boilermakers, of all humble sinners in this vale of tears, could use a prayer).
Oh, I forgot to mention…
To each of these, let the people respond, “GO IRISH!”
EFS CSC
Son, in 199 years of religious study, I have only come up with two hard, incontrovertible facts: There is a God, and I'm pretty tight with Him.
Now I’m going to tell you a whole lot of things I’ve kept to myself for years. None of you ever knew me. I was along before your time, but you all know what a tradition I am at Notre Dame. And one of the most important things I ever said was, “Friends, sometime when my University is up against it and the breaks are beating the students, tell them to go out there with all they’ve got and win at everything for Padre. I don’t know exactly where I’ll be then, friends,” I said, “but I’ll be looking right over your shoulder.”
- Good Fridays w/Padre: WORTHY! - November 30, 2018
- Good Fridays w/Padre: The Horror - October 26, 2018
- Good Fridays w/Padre: BALLS! - September 7, 2018
