A Chalice Rooted in Home and Ministry
By Melanie Sisinni
11/20/2025
For Father Phil Oriole, every Mass carries a reminder of home. When he lifts his cherry wood chalice at daily Mass, he holds far more than a sacred vessel. In its stem lies a story of home and family.
The chalice was crafted just before his ordination in 1970, a gift from his parents. Wanting something personal, Father Oriole asked family friends in Russell if he might use wood from Yule Tree Farm, their family farm. The wood was sent to a chalice company in Montreal, Canada, which fashioned it into a simple but striking cup. The design reflects two important parts of his life: the engraved image of Christ the King, a tribute to the seminary in New York where he studied, and the carefully crafted wood that ties him to his roots. Even the communion plate holds a subtle symbol— an etching of Michelangelo’s Pietà on the underside. The original statue and Pope Paul VI both visited the United States in 1970 as part of the World’s Fair in New York.
“It’s a reminder every time I celebrate Mass,” Father Oriole says, “Not only of my parents’ support, but of the people and places that shaped me.”
Father Oriole has spent 55 years serving the Diocese of Erie in parishes and ministries across nearly every corner of the region. Born and raised in Warren, he began his ministry in Bradford as both parish priest and campus minister for the University of Pittsburgh’s local center. In Greenville, he served at St. Michael Parish while also chaplain at Thiel College. His priesthood later took him to Sharon, East Brady and Rimersburg. More assignments followed in Albion, Tidioute, Erie and Tionesta. Each move deepened his ties to a community, and each new call meant leaving behind people he had grown to love.
“That’s the hard part,” he reflects. “You get to know people, then it’s time to move on. But that’s what priesthood is—to go where you’re called.”
Assignments also brought unexpected challenges. While pastor in Albion, he served as chaplain to the nearby state prison. For a priest raised in the small town of Warren, the work was eye-opening.
“So many of those men came from very difficult home lives,” he reflects. “It gave me a new perspective on suffering and brokenness. It wasn’t easy, but it taught me compassion.”
What has carried him through the decades is the heart of priesthood: celebrating Mass and walking with people in faith.
Preaching, he admits, has always been one of his greatest challenges, but also one of the most meaningful.
“I always write my homilies out or at least make a detailed outline. Preaching is hard for me, but it’s also a grace. It keeps me humble,” he says.
Confession, too, has shaped his ministry. He recalls with tenderness the people who returned after decades away.
“When someone says, ‘It’s been 40 years,’ you know you’re standing on holy ground,” he says. “The best part is, it’s not me—it’s Christ who forgives. And if Christ forgets our sins, the priest should, too.”
Father Oriole continues to serve. In retirement, he is part of the St. George Parish community in Erie, where he celebrates daily Mass, helps on weekends and fills in across the diocese when needed.
“It’s a good balance. I can be part of parish life without carrying all the responsibilities. That’s what retirement looks like,” he says.
Through every assignment, challenge and grace, Father Oriole’s cherry wood chalice has been there. Just as the wood was shaped into a vessel, so too has Father Oriole’s life been shaped by family, parishioners and fellow priests into a priesthood of faithful service.
“It’s been an interesting life,” he says with characteristic humility. “Challenging at times, but always blessed.”
And as he lifts his chalice at every Mass, Father Oriole continues to give thanks—for home, for the people who formed him and for the Lord who called him to serve.
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