One Reason I Stay A Catholic
The Catholic Church is an easy target. Lord knows there’s enough to criticize: a patriarchy often out of touch with the people in the pews, the periodic financial scandals and the despicable cover-up of sexual abuse of minors. Still, there are experiences that remind me of why I stay a Catholic and why I continue to love the church despite its flaws.
That was the case recently when I guided a weeklong retreat for Marianist priests and brothers at their retirement community in Centerville, OH outside of Dayton. These are men whose physical limitations curtail their daily activities. Some are experiencing forgetfulness and other by-products of aging. Still, they show up for Mass every morning. They pray out loud for an end to the conflicts plaguing our world. They pray for the homeless, for those who are ill, who are about to die, who are lonely, who have no one to pray for them. They remained engaged in life.
Each of the priests and brothers I met would qualify for one of the “Life Well-Lived” segments on NBC’s “Sunday Morning Today” program. Meet Brother Bill Schlosser, who served in Malawi, Kenya, Nigeria and Zambia. Or Brother Don Neff, who helped open multiple schools in 17 years of serving in Australia, often having to raise the funds himself to get those schools going.
Meet Brother Bob Resing, a beloved art teacher who now has an art building named for him outside of Melbourne, Australia. Or Brother Jim Contadino, who served as principal of St. Laurence College in Dublin for 20 years. Or Brother Joe Barrish, whose artwork adorns the walls of the brothers’ retirement home and who at age 95, still draws an ink sketch each day based on the daily gospel.
The Marianists, known also as The Society of Mary, take their inspiration from the mother of Jesus, who responded to each call in her life with a “Yes.” The Marianist philosophy is summed up in a passage from their “Rule of Life.” It says community members “strive for the fullness of charity … Our goal is to be transformed into the likeness of Christ … to show that still today the gospel can be lived in all the force of its letter and spirit.”
The word “yes” defines the life of the Marianist brothers I met. They told of being challenged repeatedly to take assignments they weren’t sure they could handle, but somehow did. That “yes” is reflected in a story Brother Don Neff likes to tell. As a teen, he says, he attended every dance and dated every girl his age in his hometown. One day after one of his Marianist teachers passed away, another of the brothers asked his students: “Who will replace him?” Brother Don says the answer “Me” burst into his head.
“Where did that come from?” he recalls asking himself. Nearly 70 years later, he says he doesn’t doubt that God was the source of that message.
It seemed fitting to me that the Marianists call their community’s magazine “Alive.” It’s another word that describes the spirit of these men. Father Tom Schroer, who worked for several years as the staff psychologist at both the Marianist University of Dayton and Miami Valley Hospital, told me there’s another reason these men remain so vibrant, hopeful and engaged despite their sometimes-significant physical limitations.
He says they believe they have given their lives to “something larger than themselves.”
As a nation we have become increasingly self-absorbed, operating from a perspective of scarcity that says we have to protect what is ours, keep others out. We seem to have forgotten the importance of working for the common good. Father Schroer’s assessment of what keeps his Marianist brothers going is a challenge to us all.
Marianists are known primarily as educators, but evangelization is also a large part of their mission. When it came time during the retreat for the sacrament of Reconciliation (formerly known as Confession), Father Jim Russell, who worked for many years in campus ministry, got my vote as a confessor. He declared (paraphrasing Pope Francis) that “the confessional should not be a torture chamber.”
The theme of our retreat was “Stirring the Ashes: Rekindling the Flame of a Well-Lived Life.” I asked the brothers to share one insight that keeps them going, that lends itself to a well-lived life. Here are some of their responses:
“Day after day, be ready to change for the better.”
“Aim for a life of service rather than a life of survival.”
“Hope, relax, take time to enjoy life.”
“We are all beautiful, unfinished persons.”
Father Bert Buby, once the leader of the Cincinnati province of Marianists, offered this reflection for those of us who might feel somewhat stale in our interior lives:
“Beneath the gentle and fragile sleeping of the embers and cinders are stone-like colors of red, yellow, soft blue and green which are waiting to be stoked into a renewed and leaping flame, embracing the wood, tightly creating stronger warmth.”
On the final day of the retreat, each of the priests and brothers renewed their religious vows, sealing their promise by kissing the cover of the Lectionary, the book that contains the prayers and readings for the Catholic Mass. It was a moving and humble gesture to see the dedication of these men after so many decades of living a life of service. It brought tears to my eyes.
What are the “gentle and fragile sleeping” embers, as Father Bert puts it, that we need to stir to reinvigorate our spiritual life? At this pivotal moment in our nation’s history, how can we learn from the example of these Marianist priests and brothers what it means to live a life of service, not just survival?
How can we, like them, nurture “stronger warmth?”
