subscribesubscriber servicescontact usabout ussite map
Tue, Mar 16 2010 

Resources

print this story   Print this story
  Post to del.icio.us

Published December 29, 2009 08:55 pm - This column is my favorite part of my job. With this, I get to voice my opinion on issues that are making news — I choose the issues that get stuck in my head because the issue usually has irritated me in some way.
This week, though, the issue that’s stuck with me hasn’t irritated me; it’s inspired me — which is a nice surprise. Inspiration comes rarely in my profession.


Sometimes inspiration comes unexpectedly


Carly Farrell
The Americus Times-Recorder

AMERICUS

This column is my favorite part of my job. With this, I get to voice my opinion on issues that are making news — I choose the issues that get stuck in my head because the issue usually has irritated me in some way.

This week, though, the issue that’s stuck with me hasn’t irritated me; it’s inspired me — which is a nice surprise. Inspiration comes rarely in my profession.

I recently interviewed Father Robert Girardeau, a Catholic priest stationed at St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Americus.

Prior to meeting Girardeau, I’ll admit my impression of the leadership of the Catholic church was a bit skewed.

I grew up in Athens, and when I was seven, my great-grandmother Raymond had a stroke. She was treated in St. Mary’s Hospital in Athens. I was too young to go see her in her room, so I, along with an adult relative, had to wait in the lobby for long stretches of time while my other family members visited Grandma. There was a giant, granite statue of Mary holding Jesus in the waiting room where I sat that’s burned into my memory — the lighting in the lobby made it spooky — the way the light hit the crevasses of the stone made it look almost like a ghost on occasion.

There also was a nun who used to come sit with me — she didn’t say much — but what she did say was she’d pray for my family and me in this raspy voice I thought was scary. (I know she was probably a wonderful person; from my perspective, though, she seemed mysteriously spooky.)

Grandma Raymond died in that hospital, and for some reason, for the rest of my life, family members went to Athens Regional, the other hospital in town.

Then, when I was a teenager, I saw the Exorcist, which scared me silly — what the priests did for the girl in the movie was amazing — but my impression of the Catholic church wasn’t changed — what the priests went through was terrifying in the movie! I was scared for them, not of them, that time.

My family attended a Disciples of Christ denomination church, where basically, according to my mom and grandparents, you only have to believe that Jesus is the path to God, and that’s it. Sunday School was always fun at church — we studied each passage and discussed amongst ourselves what each meant — everyone in the room had a slightly different opinion. Gram, my grandmother, had done a great bit of study on the Bible and each denomination and was convinced the Catholic church deleted, before the Catholic church was split by Martin Luther, many books from the Bible and had only published what they wanted their followers to believe.

So, I was a bit apprehensive on my way to meet Girardeau. As a journalist, I’ve never been afraid to ask difficult questions of anyone — that’s my favorite thing — I love making people squirm. But for some reason, interviewing a priest was somehow different. The thought of asking him why he decided to dedicate his entire life to Catholicism made me nauseated — it almost seemed blasphemous.

But, I’d chosen to write the series on how different religions celebrated their different holidays. I’d asked everyone else difficult questions.

I arrived before the office officially opened, and Girardeau, adorned in a priest’s normal garb covered with a soft, maroon jacket, sleepily answered the door. Behind a couple of doors, I heard a dog, I’d later find out was a Dachshund, barking and jingling his collar. OK so Girardeau was human — and for that matter, not so scary.

After typical introductions were made, I started my interview — still a little hesitant with my initial questions. As we got deeper into our conversation, though, I realized that Girardeau was not only human, but his answers — every one — were introspective, full of wisdom and actually quite inspirational. He rattled off answers about the history of the Church like he was born knowing it. He followed up his beliefs with real-life examples of how he’d been tested. And when I asked him the question about why he’d dedicated his entire life to priesthood, he said it was about his calling — his faith — and compared it to the movie “Contact.” Basically, love is something no one can physically prove, but it exists nevertheless.

I left that day laughing at myself for being so worried about the interview. Girardeau was just a guy — with a lot of faith — and that’s why he’s a religious leader.

Interestingly enough, I realized in our discussion, Girardeau and I view so many religious points the same way; he even went above and beyond what I’d thought about to make incredible points about how his faith.



print this story    email this story   






autoconx
Premier Guide
Find a business

Walking Fingers
Maps, Menus, Store hours, Coupons, and more...
Premier Guide
Save over $80 this Sunday's Edition!


 

 

Community Newspaper Holdings, Inc.CNHI Classified Advertising NetworkCNHI News Service
Associated Press content © 2009. All rights reserved. AP content may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Our site is powered by Zope and our Internet Yellow Pages site is powered by PremierGuide.
Some parts of our site may require you to download the Flash Player Plugin.
View our Privacy Policy
Advertiser index