Thinking his associate pastor, Father Walker, 28, might need help with something, Terra went to the back door and opened it.
The attack was sudden, swift and violent. An intruder wielding a piece of angle iron forced his way in, repeatedly smashing Terra in the head. Authorities told him the attacker struck him at least nine times. The side of his face was caved in and had
to be reconstructed.
Terra, 57, takes off his glasses. With that twinkle in his eye, he turns his face, smiles and says, “They did a pretty good job, don’t you think?”
Indeed they did.
But there are still deep scars on his head. And there is the mangled index finger, which won’t allow him to do calligraphy any more. His left arm was also broken, but has healed for the most part.
“I’m as recovered as I’m ever going to be,” he says. “I don’t have the stamina I once did; I can’t carry the same pace.” Because of the head injury, basic math can sometimes be a challenge, and his eyesight is not the same. [Please continue praying for Fr. Terra’s healing and the repose of the soul of Fr. Walker. I understand there are two potential miracles attributed to the intercession of the latter. What a great grace and tribute to this pious young priest. Deo Gratias!]
“The fact that I’m even alive,” he says. “The injuries should have killed me. I guess I still have some kind of work to do.”
It’s almost a blessing that Terra doesn’t remember much of the attack. He’s heard the tape of the 911 call he made that night.
“It sounds like my voice,” he says, but he doesn’t remember making the call or answering the door for the police and paramedics.
What he does remember are confused snippets, bathed in blood and searing pain. At some point he heard the assailant in Walker’s room saying “money.”
He remembers wrestling with the attacker, but he does not remember hearing the gunshots that killed Walker.
He does know, however, where the gun came from.
“It was mine,” he says, with his eyes welling up as the sadness breaks through his guard.
“I was going for it in a last desperate bid for survival,” he says. “But my finger was broken, I was in pain and shock.”
One of the last things Terra remembers before waking up on a gurney in the emergency room is seeing Walker on the floor in his room and giving him absolution for his sins. He’s been told that he also administered the last rites.
He may have, but he doesn’t remember.
Terra knows the question is coming. But to him, there really should be no question at all about why a priest would have a gun.
“Everyone has a right to defend themselves,” he says. “We’re no different.” [Quite right. This a right every individual soul possesses. As this attack so ably demonstrates, when seconds count, the police are only minutes away, if they respond at all]
“Would people prefer to hear you live in a rough part of town and don’t have something to defend yourself? Then you make yourself a target.”
Still, his friend, a kind, intelligent man who was devoted to God and his church, was killed with Terra’s gun.
It was something Terra found himself struggling with.
But while he was still in the hospital, he had a conversation with his brother.
“It was my gun that did it,” Terra said.
“Did you pull the trigger?” his brother asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s not your fault.” [Dang right. And as Fr. Terra is lucky to be alive after being attacked with something so prosaic as a piece of angle iron, it seems that his gun played only the most incidental of roles in the tragic death of Fr. Walker. I have no problem with priests being armed, and in fact, given where so many serve and the dangers to which they are exposed, think it quite prudent for them to be so]
Terra is a man who believes that everything happens for a reason, and he tends to see things in black and white instead of shades of gray. [Thank God for his moral clarity. No wonder he makes such a fine priest.]
…..Terra says he feels “no inclination toward revenge or anger.”
“Anger,” he says, “can enslave you, especially if it’s over something you can do nothing about. … Is there a greater waste of time than that?”
He points to the story of Father Maximilian Kolbe, a Polish priest who was imprisoned by the Nazis at Auschwitz and offered to take the place of a man with a family who had been sentenced to death.
“What God allows, both good and bad, is experienced to make saints of us,” he says. “Jesus suffered and died on the cross, that’s how God willed it.”
Terra asks what Jesus must think when ordinary people complain about the hand Providence has dealt.
“He said, ‘I carried this cross for you, and you find (your own struggles) objectionable?'”
For Terra, the question of forgiveness was also never even a question. As a priest, he knows he has a duty not only to follow Christ’s example, but also to set an example for his parishioners.
“If I’m going to be talking about forgiveness from the pulpit and not practicing it, well, we used to call that hypocrisy,” he says with a wry smile.
“In the Lord’s Prayer, it says, ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who have trespassed against us,'” Terra says, stressing the words “we forgive.”
“That leaves us no choice but to do battle with our angry passions, but we’re not doing battle ourselves — we have the power of his grace.” [Yes we do. Thank you for the very helpful reminder Fr. Terra]
Terra tells another story from World War II, this one about Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty, who worked in the Vatican and
helped hide 4,000 people, mostly Allied soldiers and Jews, from the notorious Herbert Kappler, the Gestapo officer in charge of Rome.
Kappler knew of O’Flaherty’s exploits and tried many times to capture him venturing outside the neutral zone of the Vatican, but never succeeded.
After the war, Kappler was tried for war crimes and sentenced to life in prison. For many years, his only visitor was O’Flaherty, who eventually converted Kappler and baptized him.
Terra has not felt compelled toward his O’Flaherty moment just yet. But he does not discount the prospect of someday visiting Moran, if asked.
“It’s interesting how Providence worked out,” Terra says. “Father Walker is dead, and the man who did it is alive. He has the opportunity to repent. I hope he takes it.”
Father Terra says a few members of his congregation may have been scared off by the attack. But from the rest of them he will draw strength tonight, as he has for the past year. Shared hardships bring people together.
His time with them is short. Next month, he is being transferred to a parish in Tyler, Texas.