Joe Kennedy

Joe Kennedy is routinely named the region's best writer by readers of The Roanoker magazine.

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Ask Father Rodolph Wakim what it takes to be an effective Catholic priest and he will tell it requires working a mere 25 hours per day.

Ask how he does it and he'll laugh and say, "I don't."

Parishioners at St. Elias Catholic Church in Northwest Roanoke, where he is pastor, say he almost does. Wakim is "always available to everybody," says Terri Ferris, a longtime member. "A total stranger can walk through the door and he stops what he's doing" to talk and, more important, to listen.

In less than two weeks, Wakim will leave St. Elias and become pastor of Our Lady of the Victory in Pittsburgh. Father Claude Franklin, the Pittsburgh church's assistant pastor, will succeed him.

Part of Wakim's legacy is taking place this weekend on the church's wooded grounds: its ninth annual Lebanese festival.

Wakim started it as a fundraiser, yes, but mainly as a bond-builder.

In his 10 years and seven months as pastor, parishioners say, he has strengthened unity, diversity and growth. They estimate he has converted more than 60 individuals and families to Catholicism, and they call him a "holy man" who is down-to-earth and who, by the way, speaks five languages.

Unifying tongue

St. Elias is a Maronite Catholic church, where Aramaic, the language of Christ, is spoken during a portion of the Mass and where things are more traditional than in many Roman Catholic churches.

Historically, St. Elias has been Roanoke's "Lebanese Church." Now, at least half of the congregation of between 175 to 250 families consists of Roman Catholics who prefer the Maronite ritual.

Minorities -- American blacks, Africans, Asians, Hispanics and others -- make the church a melting pot, something not so common in these parts.

"Who cares where you come from?" the pastor asks. "When God is there, different languages all understand each other. We speak the language of God."

He re-directs credit

Wakim is bearded, balding and softly spoken, with a Lebanese accent and a sense of humor. He arrived in New York from Lebanon at age 23 and went into the seminary at 28 after attending college. He had earned money for college by working at jobs such as "assistant busboy" (he says he lasted a week) and operator of his own, one-car private car service.

He had been a priest less than a year when assigned to St. Elias at age 33.

He says the success of St. Elias comes from its people. They have been a gold mine of goodness.

"All I had to do was dig a little bit, and the gold came up," he says. "Hearts of gold."

He believes that humans are born innocent with an innate instinct to do good. The world hardens us, and the church is an oasis of spiritual refreshment.

"Christianity says you need to embrace something good," he says.

Even atheists often are committed to the well-being of others, he says. They try to save the whales. They work to protect the environment.

Our job is to retain our innocence and learn to forgive, to battle to control our anger and hatred, mend our broken homes and contend with our inevitable betrayals.

After living in New York and seeing his friends find big trouble, Wakim says Roanoke seems benign. He counsels people with the usual human failings. He includes one that may seem surprising: Some parents try too hard to control their children and teens; they expect too much. That plants the seeds of rebellion.

Our No. 1 enemy, he says, is pride: "I refuse to admit I'm wrong. I refuse to ask you for help. I refuse to ask you for forgiveness."

Seeing a person give up those defenses and return to God is "the most beautiful thing in the world."

It had a lot to do with his entering the priesthood.

"I can't stand seeing people sad," he says. "I'm on a mission to bring joy to the world."

Thursday morning, four parishioners sat outside and chatted after their morning prayer group meeting.

Wakim "gives himself to everybody," one said.

"He lives his faith," said another.

"He is an outstanding confessor," said a third.

To Wakim, the secret to a worthy life is simple: "Put the Kingdom first and all the rest will be given to you. It's the awesome promise."

Joe Kennedy's column runs Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.