Editor's note: This story was originally published on June 16, 2004.

By Renee Stewart
Five thousand seven hundred and fifty or so Masses -- five thousand seven hundred and fifty Masses he's said

-- five thousand seven hundred and fifty or so Masses

-- how do you measure the legacy of Fr. Tim Power?

in celebrations,

in dedications,

in blessings,

in weddings,

in late lights,

in midnights,

in phone calls,

in long hauls,

in births,

in deaths,

in the promise of tomorrow,

in times of sorrow,

in holy sacraments,

in hours of commitments,

in treasured homilies,

in time with Pax Christi families,

Five thousand seven hundred and fifty or so Masses

how do you measure the legacy of Fr. Tim Power?

Who is this man with wavy, wild hair?

Who is this man who calls himself an introvert, yet, so many find him to be a compelling speaker and gifted storyteller?

Who is this man who loves to walk the streets of the city, any city, to anchor his understanding of people? They say he's a priest, but, today and many days, he doesn't look like one.

"I'm a priest of the '60s, I suppose," he laughed, when asked why he doesn't wear his clerical collar.

He doesn't have the need, he said, to have his clothes say, "Look, I'm a priest!"

Don't mistake him. He's proud of his calling and wears his vestments for sacramental moments, of which there have been many over his 23 years as pastor of Pax Christi Catholic Community in Eden Prairie. Those moments are coming to end.

Come June 30, the Rev. Tim Power will leave the community in a vastly different place from which it came when it was first established in the early 1980s.

Beginnings

Tim Power was born in 1939 Faribault to the late Tim and Teresa Power. He is the younger brother to two sisters, Fran Rowan and Mary Riker. He spent some of his childhood in New Ulm before returning to Faribault. He attended Nazareth Hall in Arden Hills for high school and two years of college, finishing his collegiate studies at St. Paul Seminary. For four more years, he studied theology at Catholic University in Washington, D.C.

"It was a great eye-opener for me," he recalled.

It was the 1960s, and the times were a "great eye opener" for many.

The rulings of Vatican II were emerging. The Cuban Missile Crisis sent the hearts of the nation racing. Leaders were dying. Anti-war sentiments were burning. Racial tensions were churning.

A young man from small- town Minnesota was watching it all from the front row of our nation's capital. If his time in Washington didn't define him, it must have, at the very least, helped carve his commitment to social justice and his belief in leveling the spiritual playing field for all people, regardless.

After Power was ordained in May of 1966, he was sent to St. Thomas the Apostle, in South Minneapolis, where the pastor was dying and his abilities to lead the parish were limited. The new, young priest was able to begin his career in a rather unrestricted manner, but with strong help from the parish.

"The people shaped me that first year," he said.

He then served as the secretary to the Archbishop in St. Paul, which under mutual agreement, it was decided that the post "wasn't his calling."

From 1969 to 1973, he served as assistant pastor at St. Edward's Parish in Bloomington. Power then moved to St. Timothy's Parish in Blaine until 1981. Archbishop John Roach had new plans for Power and offered him three choices: remain at St. Tim's, go to St. Luke's in St. Paul or go to a new parish in Eden Prairie.

In his heart, Power felt St. Luke's was his best choice. It was located in a changing neighborhood, and he felt his talents would best be suited for that area, rather than the wealthier Eden Prairie. He admitted a touch of reverse discrimination might have seeped into his thinking at the time, leading him to choose St. Luke's.

Before Power makes an important decision, he reads a Gospel from beginning to end. This occasion was no different. He chose the Gospel of St. Mark, where he read, "It's harder for a rich man to get to heaven than a camel to get through the eye of a needle."

"There," he thought, his decision was clear. To St. Paul it was. But he hadn't finished his reading, and in doing so, he came to understand that he should turn his heart and soul westward to the new parish, built through the grassroots efforts of a few of the faithful and determined.

He's never looked back.

"It's been wonderful," he said. Power has come to realize that it's not what a person has in their bank account that matters, "it's how you live your life."

Growth spurt

Maybe there's something in the (holy) water.

When Pax Christi began, it was home to 150 households. Today, more than 4,000 households or 12,000 parishioners come to worship at the church.

In 23 years of service, few people or circumstances remain the same, and Power said the parish's growth has been among the biggest change. Adapting to that change was a challenge. What worked with 300 households didn't work with 1,000. What worked for 1,000 households didn't work for 5,000, and so it went. Every five years, the parish reviews its vision and how it operates within those parameters.

Admittedly, Power didn't always recognize the need for change, but that didn't prevent parishioners from telling him otherwise.

"People have loved me enough to tell me when I was wrong," he said.

Consider the power and humility of those words.

Along the path to change, there have been joys, too.

"There's just so many," he said. "People have allowed me to be family to them."

In grocery stores, children will come up to hug him. When he's out and about, he'll get a little honk from a passing motorist. There are larger moments, though, when families experience intense joy and sorrow when Power has been invited into a family's private circle of emotion.

There's the couple suffering from infertility - one of the first calls announcing a pregnancy with twins is to Power.

"How did I ever get to be in that loop?" he asked in genuine awe and, there it is again, humility.

The Pax Christi community has suffered its share of tragedies - plane crashes, homicides, suicides, automobile crashes, deaths of children, and on the chain continued.

"I've learned a lot through that," Power explained, adding that he no longer attempts to fix the hurts, rather, he tries to provide a safe place for people to grieve and mourn and offers the healing ritual of a funeral Mass and burial.

While it's hard to quantify the degree of any loss, Power is particularly struck by the loss of children - tragic, "yet precious." He is amazed at the tenderness of parents' love as they let go of a child. He recalled parents who allowed him to hold their dying child, even as they themselves were clinging to each living moment with their young one.

"These are good people," he said.

Free 'Tim'e

Freedom. Freedom to minister. Freedom to act as a spiritual advisor.

"That has been one of the greatest gifts," Power said.

From the beginning, one of the Community Council's visions was to free its pastor of the day-to-day operations and financial decisions. In this way, the pastor would be free to truly serve the parishioners' spiritual needs.

To illustrate, during Power's tenure, Pax Christi underwent a $6 million building project, an undertaking fraught with decisions, considerations and obligations. Power understood the wisdom in placing those responsibilities onto those who could best manage them.

"I never went to a Building Committee meeting," he noted.

"It's the people's church," he continued. "The people have much more to say about their church."

Don't misunderstand, Power can handle himself quite well when it comes to standing up for an issue he believes in, and, in the end, the parish is his responsibility. He said in order for this system to work, a pastor needs to be willing to surround himself with capable lay people, who are able to make financial, building, operational and staff decisions.

Power uses his time in service and prayer. He said he needs "time to think and pray before I open my mouth." For every one minute of preaching, he estimated that he spends one hour in research and prayer.

"If you have 5,000 (people) captive, they deserve the best," he said, referring to preparing his homilies for Mass.

He's more than willing to take the time. After all, "we don't have a great reputation for being great speakers," he said of Catholic priests.

While taking a tweak at priests' preaching abilities is rather innocuous, Power doesn't appear to shy away from more controversial church subjects. He's had to discuss varies issues with those who question and wrestle with the Catholic Church. To them, he says, "there's no such thing as a perfect church."

Starting anew

Decisions for change don't always come readily.

It's been 23 years since Power has made a professional jump. He was a different priest then, and a different man.

How has he changed as "Tim?" Personal change may have come through the words he crafts with much prayer and contemplation - his homilies.

"When I preach, I'm usually preaching to myself," he explained. "If I need to hear it, maybe someone else does, too."

Before he leaves Pax Christi, Power plans to purchase a brick that will be placed among others on the parish's Memorial Path. It will read, "Thank you for 23 great years."

That may be how Power remembers his time at Pax Christi, but how will parishioners remember him?

"I hope they remember a sermon or two," he said. "I hope they remember my laugh. I hope they will remember that they were very good for me."

Power wants a new word for it - "retirement" keeps floating around, and it just doesn't fit. He's only leaving Pax Christi, not tearing up his priest card.

He'll celebrate his final Mass for Pax Christi on June 20 at Eden Prairie High School during "Jubilate! Pax Christi," and the Rev. Doug Dandurand will assume the role of pastor. Come September, he'll embark on a 500-mile religious pilgrimage through France and Spain.

His post-trip plans haven't quite yet jelled, but Power has a list of ideas, divided into three categories: "Same Old With a Twist," "Want to Do," and "Serve the Reign of God, but Not as a Priest," - this list includes justice work or duties at a shelter, for example.

The final category is inspired by a French movement that took hold in the 1940s and 1950s called the "Priest-Worker Movement," where priests worked as laborers and lived among the poor. The concept intrigues Power, and it doesn't seem surprising that he'd find it so - this priest without a collar, this man who walks the city streets.

While his future isn't clear to him now, Power must think it's plainly written for him - somewhere in the Gospel.

'Led through example': Parishioners say Power made them feel welcome

By Renee Stewart

Chris Littmann called it "the coldest day in history." It also happened to be her wedding day.

Chris and Mike Littmann were married in Wisconsin in 1996, and it was the Rev. Tim Power who drove five frozen, wintry hours from Eden Prairie to their wedding.

"I thought it was miraculous that he did that," Littmann recalled.

When the young couple asked Power to preside over its nuptials, "he didn't hesitate," she said, adding that he even refused airfare and hotel accommodations.

"When there's a need for the people, he'll meet it," Littmann said.

The young couple's spiritual life has been spent with Power as their guide. In addition to his presence at their wedding, their children Tyler, 3, and Sean, 1, have been baptized at Pax Christi.

"I'm very sad," she said of Power departure. "I'm going to miss him."

While she'll miss Power, it's clear that his legacy, in her eyes, is well established as a "great facilitator of lay ministry" and a proponent of "people helping people."

Laity or laypersons within the context of a religious faith are members apart from the clergy.

"He's really worked hard to get a good foundation for people to participate in the church," she said.

Dale O'Brien, director of music ministry, echoed her statements, noting that Power has empowered the people of the parish.

"He showed people that they can minister to people no matter what walk of life they're from," he said.

The strength of Power's leadership impressed O'Brien.

"I feel he was a very strong leader," he said. "He led through example."

For O'Brien, Power taught him to be prepared for what you think will happen and what you don't expect will happen. Their relationship seemed to be more than co-workers. O'Brien called Power "a friend, a mentor," who taught him that spirituality is "how you are in relationship with God."

Jim Schuller and his wife, Ellen, have been parishioners since the Pax Christi's infancy. Schuller said Power's legacy is two-fold, his preaching and presiding over the Liturgy.

"Of course his own personality," he said. "He attracts people."

Schuller characterized Power as a strong leader.

"In his shy, bashful way, he reaches out and touches people, and yet, he can be very strong when he wants to be," he said.

"I really wish him the best of everything," Schuller added.

In so many years of a parishioner-pastor relationship, there's bound to be differences of opinion now and again.

"I didn't always agree with him, but that's life," Schuller explained. "I don't always agree with my friends all the time."

Shari Steffen has been a Pax Christi member "since it was begun." She explained that the parish's founding lay members wanted a true spiritual leader in their pastor and worked to free him up from day-to-day tasks.

"Fr. Tim filled that role beautifully," she said, adding that it's unusual for a Catholic pastor to give away that much power.

It will be his legacy, she believes, that the parish community will continue to offer its pastor that freedom to serve the parish's spiritually while pursuing his own spiritual growth.

She also spoke of Power's "legacy of storytelling. That is a legacy that will remain forever."

Many of his homilies have been preserved on tape, and some have been transcribed. Steffen said many people have asked him to publish his homilies. Perhaps the storyteller will add "author" to his repertoire.

Steffen recalled Power's "gorgeous baritone voice," and O'Brien also experienced Power's commitment to music ministry.

"He felt like I do that music is a framework for prayer," he said.

The duo would prepare a "sung homily," where three to five songs (not traditionally thought of as sacred) would be woven into a theme. They were a lot of work, but O'Brien called it "very fulfilling."

"That's always a favorite weekend," Steffen said.

Another special time came during Holy Thursday, the beginning of a very solemn and sacred period in the church as members remember the Last Supper, the Passion of Christ and prepare for the Resurrection. On that day, Steffen said Power would sing the Eucharistic Prayer. The memory brought emotional silence to the conversation. There seemed to be no words to describe how much this meant to her.

Steffen easily moved to another story about Power. When her father, Max, was dying, Power administered Last Rites to him. When he came out of her father's room, he said. "Well, I told your dad that the German half of him was guilty because he never worked hard enough, and the Irish half of him was guilty over everything else."

Humor aside, Steffen has found that Pax Christi, under Power's leadership, has been like a lifeboat in stormy waters. In the face of a church that can be difficult to hang onto, she explained, because of priest scandals, a swing toward conservatism and the relationship between church hierarchy and laity not being all that it can be, "having a place like Pax Christi has been very important."

Power, she said, has emphasized the part of the Catholic Church that brings spiritual health and downplays the part of the church that can be "guilt producing."

While Power obviously touched Steffen's spirituality, how can one man serve so many?

With 12,000 fellow parishioners, it might be easy for one to feel lost in the crowd, but Littmann said Power has made the Masses "inviting, easy to follow, and (filled with) humor."

"You feel really welcome," she added. "As big as (the parish) is, you feel he knows you're there."