He probably thinks this song is about him.

Some legends have staying power. Are there really alligators lurking in city sewers poised to rear their ugly heads through manhole covers and devour little kids and old ladies crossing streets? Do politicians really take bribes? Are some libraries slowly sinking into the ground under the collective weight of the tomes collected on their shelves? Can you really get a parking ticket fixed? Urban myths, some say; others say reality.

Some church stories also have staying power. Was there really a secret letter of Fatima? Did Pius XII help or hinder Hitler? Was John Paul I killed by some sinister Vatican plotters? Church myths, some say; others say reality.

Here's an ecclesiastical story that may be either myth or reality. One bishop in the United States has programmed his cell phone to ring out the "Ecce Sacerdos," a pre-Vatican II hymn often sung when a bishop entered a church. This song at one time was as synonymous to bishops as "Hail to the Chief" is to presidents of the United States.

Some older Catholics might not recognize this music. It wasn't often that a bishop came to particular parishes, maybe once a year for Confirmation or once in a blue moon for the dedication of a new church or school building, or every 50 or 100 years for a milestone anniversary of a parish. And "younger" Catholics, anyone under the age of 40, in all probability never heard this song. After Vatican II, as bishops began to interpret their charism in more pastoral terms, the words of "Ecce Sacerdos" no longer seemed appropriate or inspiring.

Luckily, the words were belted out in Latin so few people knew what was being sung. The opening lines, "Behold a great priest, who in his days pleased God. There was none found like unto him who kept the law of the Most High" were definitely over the top, egocentric, and presumptuous.

Might this hymn be making an immodest comeback, if not in the naves of churches and cathedrals, at least through the ring of one bishop's cell phone?

The song continues, "Therefore by an oath the Lord made him to increase among his people. He gave him the blessing of all nations, and confirmed his covenant upon his head." These words, and other refrains in this paean, come from selected lines in the Old Testament book of Ecclesiasticus, chapters 44-50.

But is it appropriate today? The church triumphant has been dead and buried for a generation now. Or so we thought. Resurrection anyone?

Listen carefully to the ring of a cell phone next time you are in the presence of a bishop. It might just clarify whether this ecclesiastical cell phone story is myth or reality.

PETER GILMOUR ([e-mail]) teaches at the Institute of Pastoral Studies of Loyola University Chicago.