Archbishop Harry Flynn seized the opportunity and asked the reporters, "How many of you know of Maximillian Kolbe?  He was a Polish Franciscan who was taken prisoner by the Nazis to Auschwitz, where some people were put into a holding pen to starve to death.  Maximillian Kolbe was not chosen for that holding pen so he went to the guard and said, 'I am a Roman Catholic priest, whereas that man is married and has a family.  Take me instead.'  It showed the mutual respect that the celibate has for the married state."
Larry tells of another question he has since received:  "Couldn't you have done all of this as a Lutheran pastor?"  And he tells of his reply:  "For Lutherans, baptism is the defining sacrament.  For Catholics, the Eucharist is the defining sacrament.  Lutherans can imagine a Sunday morning without the Eucharist.  Catholics can't.  As a matter of fact we're horrified it might happen.  I think the Catechism says it best … that the Eucharist is the source and summit of our Christian faith, and all the ministries of the Church flow from it and are directed back to it."

What is it like to be married to a Catholic priest?  Replied Diane, "He's the same wonderful man I married 25 years ago.  I do have to say that I've had previous experience being married to a member of the clergy.  Larry was a Lutheran pastor for 15 years, you know."
Has Diane seen a transformation in her husband since the December ordination?  "He just glows!" she replied.  "I don't think his feet are back down on the ground.  We had sort of buried it and gone on with family life because it was taking so long … I think he felt unsettled, but he would have accepted it if they had said, 'No.' 
"But now he is thoroughly happy, and I am so happy for him.  It's an answer to prayer.  It is truly a gift from God.  He's thrilled every time he gets to say Mass.  I trust God will use him well at St. Hubert's and in the larger archdiocese."
And Diane's role?  "To try to keep our family happy and peaceful for him to come home to."

When Larry was in the ninth grade his mother had gone back to college, taking one class per semester, receiving her undergraduate degree in history in 1972, and her master's degree in 1973 or 1974, with plans to teach.
"And then when I was in the seminary my mom told me about wanting to get a degree in theology at Boston College," said Larry.
"Then she wanted to be part of their doctoral program but it was suggested that she apply at Boston University since Boston College was Catholic.  She was on her way to getting that doctorate from Boston University when she died.  She passed all of her exams for her doctorate degree and had done research for her thesis.  She had taken two trips to Germany, including to East Berlin before the wall came down."
"But on a trip to Belize," continued Larry, "she broke a bone, and tests revealed that she had cancer that had gone from her kidneys to her bones.  She nearly died when we were all home for Thanksgiving in 1988.  She waited until January of 1989.  That's exactly 11 years ago.  I've heard that one of her professors wrote a book using my mother's information.  The question she researched was:  How did the Reformation affect poor people?  Did the Reformation have an effect on poor people?  I haven't read the book to find out."
What would his mother have said about her son's bridge to the new millennium?  "She was a very thoughtful person," replied Larry, "and I've asked myself that question.  Early on, she would have been disappointed.  She would have thought it to be the end of my career.  You know how parents are about their children.  They want them to do well.
"But knowing her as I do, over time she would have wanted to sit down and talk with me.  I feel she was looking down and smiling on the day of my ordination to the priesthood."
And what did his dad say?  "My dad has bad arthritis and couldn't travel to Minnesota," said Larry, "but I got a nice card from him and he signed it, 'I'm very proud of you.'"
Another gentleman of the vintage of Mr. Blake has prayed:  "As the Church turns her gaze to the new millennium, she asks the Spirit for the grace to strengthen her own unity and to make it grow toward full communion with other Christians."  The gentleman's name is Pope John Paul II.
On the day of ordination, Larry's youngest brother Bob said, "If this is what makes him happy, then we are happy."
Traffic on the millennium bridge is one-way, in the forward direction, toward unity, "that they all may be one."  But oneness doesn't mean sameness.  Says Larry, "Unity does not mean that all lines and identities would disappear, but that Christians could come to Jesus in full communion." 
Would we hope or look for anything less as we walk this bridge together into the new millennium?