What makes a family holy? Progress, not perfection. 

Jack and Helen Conway and family December 1978

Many years ago, I was conducting a workshop for priests, and I asked them the question, “What makes a family holy?” There was stunned silence. I don’t think any of them—good priests all—had ever thought about family life in terms of holiness. 

It’s understandable. For most of us, our image of the family is colored by our personal experience. We say that we come from good families or happy families or broken families or even dysfunctional families, but rarely does someone describe his or her family as “holy.” An individual family member might be considered holy, but ordinarily not the family as a whole. Why?

Well, first of all, most of us are very confused about what it means to be holy. And with good reason. The dictionary defines “holy” as exalted or worthy of complete devotion as one perfect in goodness and righteousness. Really? Perfect in goodness and righteousness? We Catholics believe that only Mary, the mother of Jesus, fits this description and that was by a special dispensation of God’s grace (the Immaculate Conception). 

Saints are holy, but they’re not perfect. They are almost always sinners who overcame great obstacles in their personal lives and in the world they live in. 

Properly understood, holiness means being true to God’s plan for us, growing in goodness and love. In a phrase made popular by Alcoholics Anonymous, it means “progress rather than perfection.” Holy people are sinners who are overcoming past difficulties resulting from selfishness and sin. They haven’t reached perfection, but they’re on their way. 

If we can call individuals holy even if they aren’t perfect, why not families? Every family has its troubles—sometimes serious troubles. But it’s possible for conversion and healing to take place in families as well as individuals. 

My own family (pictured here in December 1978) experienced the amazing grace of God’s healing power after many years of brokenness and hurt. And at that particular moment in our family’s life, we were a family that was on the mend, growing in wisdom, grace and age. 

We were never perfect, but I dare say that, by the grace of God, we were becoming a holy family.

Today we pray for all the children who are not allowed to be born, who cry with hunger, who hold weapons in their hands instead of toys. (Pope Francis)

The miracle of Christmas is that the almighty God comes to us as a child. He tells us that we must become child-like if we want to follow him. What’s more, he curses those who harm little children with their scandalous, abusive behavior and with their hypocrisy.

Do we get the message? God values innocence, honestly and vulnerability. He does not respect  arrogance or worldy wisdom. If we want to be spiritually alive, we must die to self. If we want to receive God’s love and goodness, we must give generously of our time, talent and treasure—especially to those who are most in need of our help.

The world shows itself to be most evil and corrupt when it slaughters the innocent among us. We show ourselves to be sinfully indifferent and uncaring when we tolerate the horrors inflicted on the most vulnerable—adults, youth, children and infants (born and unborn).

“Being close” (accompaniment) is a consistent theme of Pope Francis. God comes close to us at Christmas and stays close no matter how far away we wander. Being and staying close to others is what missionary disciples are called to do.

I think of St. Joseph at this time of year. He is silent (as always) but he is always close by. As the sacred drama unfolds: the trip to Bethlehem with the couple’s unwelcome reception, Jesus’ birth in a stable surrounded by domestic animals and unwashed shepherds, the bizarre visit of the magi, strangers from foreign lands, and the flight from Herod into Egypt, Joseph remains steadfast. He stewards his young wife and her holy child. He guards them, provides for them and calms their fears. 

Joseph is close to us, too, and if we let him he will steady us in moments of doubt and fear. His virtues—patience, courage and fidelity to his promise—can guide us on our journeys and lift us up when we stumble and fall. 

Good St. Joseph, pray for us. Help us to be faithful to our calling as missionary disciples. Help us stay close to Jesus, and all our sisters and brothers, as you were at that first Christmas. 

Today the Church in Louisville will formally say farewell to Bishop-Elect J. Mark Spalding who will be ordained a bishop in the Diocese of Nashville on Friday, February 2. The Archdiocese of Louisville and Holy Trinity and Holy Name parishes, will miss “Father Mark” intensely, and this evening’s Mass and reception at the Cathedral of the Assumption will definitely be a moment of joy mixed with equal parts of gratitude and grief. 

Bishop Mark has truly been a gift to our parishes. His pastoral zeal combined with his humor, his great preaching and his love of God’s holy Word have made him a treasure we parishioners cherish with much gratitude. 

With reluctance, but also with great joy, we now hand-over this great blessing of Bishop Mark’s pastoral care to the Church in Middle Tennessee. May the Christ child, and his Blessed Mother, travel with him to Nashville next month and watch over him as he begins his new ministry. 

That in all things God may be glorified!

Searching for God

Advent ends with Christmas Eve Mass, but the search continues. Christ comes in the morning through miracle of new birth, but our longing is not satisfied completely. He is our hope, our salvation and our joy. But we too often remain apart from him, not fully united with him or anyone else, alone and afraid.

Christmas brings us closer to him—if we open our minds and hearts, if we reach out to him through our care for “the least of these, my brothers and sisters.”

Being close to Christ is what we long for at Christmas whether we know it or not. The sights and smells and sounds of this holy season connect us to him. But only if we let them, if we ignore the distractions of “the commercial Christmas” and embrace a far simpler festival.

Silent night, holy night. All is calm. All is bright. Round yon virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace. 

Let us free Christmas from the worldliness that has taken it hostage! The true spirit of Christmas is the beauty of being loved by God. (Pope Francis)

Nice words, but what does it mean to say that “the true spirit of Christmas is the beauty of being loved by God”?

Being loved by God is a beautiful thing—especially when we think what an incredible thing that is. The God who made the universe (all things visible and invisible) in all its infinite vastness and complexity knows me by name and loves me in spite of all my selfishness and sin. What a Christmas gift! What a wondrous thing to contemplate and accept in all humility!

The Christmas miracle is that the little child lying in a manger loves me, forgives me and makes me whole by the power of his grace.

No amount of worldliness can nullify this extraordinary gift from God to each of us, his children.

This is Dill Harris, my daughter Suzanne’s 8 year-old pug. Today, Dill had cataracts removed from both of his eyes. Because of the miracle of modern veterinary medicine, Dill will not be completely blind. Instead, he will continue to be a faithful companion for Suzanne and for her family and friends for the rest of his natural life. 

A lot of nonsense is said and done these days regarding pet animals. They are pampered and indulged beyond belief. But we should never underestimate the role animals (both domestic and wild) play in God’s creation. Animals are witnesses to the mystery and beauty of life. They remind us that we humans are not “masters of the universe” but stewards and companions of all God’s creatures. 

When the vet’s office called to tell Suzanne that Dill was out of surgery and doing well, our 5 year-old granddaughter, Jocelyn, lit up like a Christmas tree. She was so pleased to learn that Dill is really OK. Her innocent smile said it all. 

What does a great pastor look like? How can you recognize a good shepherd (pastor bonus) from one who’s only going through the motions? His smile is your first clue. There are plenty of grumpy priests, but the happy ones make the best pastors. Their joy is contagious. A calm demeanor is also a sign. Good pastors have faith in God’s providence.  They’ve seen and heard everything. They know that anxious cares and excessive worry never solved anything. A quiet presence is often the best response to the chaos of daily living. Good pastors come in all shapes and sizes. They’re old and young, active and contemplative, patient and impatient, but they are always prayerful and loving in their “care of souls.” During the past 40 years, I have been privileged to work with, and become close friends with, many outstanding pastors. All deserve enormous gratitude and respect especially during this holy season of the year!

A great pastor and a good friend: Monsignor Salvatore  E. Polizzi, Pastor of St. Roch Catholic Church, St. Louis, Missouri. 

Joy to the World. Jingle Bells. Silent Night. And more. The annual Conway Christmas Party happened yesterday afternoon. Four generations of Conways gathered to reconnect, reminisce and enjoy. Lots of good food. Lots of stories about Conway adventures: past, present and yet to come.

Singing Christmas carols confirmed beyond all doubt that my voice is shot. Fortunately my cousins (and my 93 year-old Uncle Bud) shown here, and off-camera too, carried the tunes. That’s what family does. It fills in our gaps and helps carry our burdens.

We Conways are survivors. We’ve seen it all, lived through it all, suffered it all and, yet, rejoiced. We freely admit we are blessed—even as we confront all the challenges of family life today.

Joy to the world!

It’s good to be back in Cleveland—my birthplace and the home of my youth. Much has changed since I last lived here in the late 1970s. Mostly an improvement. 

I still have family here—a brother and his family and lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. We are gathering today for the Conway Christmas Party, the only time each year that we get together (outside of funerals). I’m looking forward to it, but with some mixed emotions. 

Growing up here wasn’t always easy. There was lots of pressure to conform to an ideal image of what it meant to be a Conway. I didn’t always fit the pattern and, so, often felt that I wasn’t good enough. Many years have passed, and I long ago accepted myself as more than “good enough” (with the help of God’s grace). But emotion is, by definition, irrational, and the feelings return unbidden especially at times like these. There’s no point hiding from them. They need to be faced and accepted for what they are—one day at a time. 

I love my hometown and my family of origin in spite of whatever weaknesses we possess. We native Clevelanders and Conways are survivors. When life knocks us down, we get back up and move on, confident that better days are coming and (as my mother always said) hope springs eternal. 

To live joyfully we must let go of anger, wrath, violence and revenge. Surrender to win. Let go and let God (Pope Francis).

Much easier said than done. In fact, letting go is the hardest thing any of us has to do. It takes courage and humility and trust. Simple but not easy. 

God continues to bless us (even in tough times) with love and mercy beyond our comprehension!

Christmas Memories from 1978, Naples, Florida.  Standing in back from left to right: Patrick, Helen (with Calloway), Jack, Anne and Mary. Front row from left to right: Jay, Dan, Joan and Michael. 

It was the Christmas just before my wedding in Cleveland, December 29, 1978. I remember it as an especially joyful time but, of course, there was a lot of stress too. The holidays are like that for families—joyful, stressful times. 

But I was deeply in love with Sharon, my beautiful bride-to-be, and all was right with the world  that Christmas. 

Many Christmases have passed with much joy and a fair amount of stress passing with them. Gratitude is the best way to look backward. Our family was blessed (even in tough times) by an enduring faith and love. Gratitude is also the best way to look ahead. God continues to bless us  (even in tough times) with love and mercy beyond our comprehension!

What if you could talk to people you love who have died? What would they say about life after death? Would they know you as you are now or be somehow frozen in time?

I asked these questions—and many more—in my book A Communion of Saints: Dreams of Happiness on the Road to Life. Using my imagination, I created a situation in which I encounter in dreams deceased family members, friends and a mystery guest. We talk about life, and death, while remembering both the good times and the hard times of my formative years.

A Communion of Saints is available at danielconwayauthor.com or on amazon.com. Let me know what you think of it.

What we long for during Advent is hope, love, joy and peace, but much more than these, we long for Someone who will come into our lives and fill our emptiness with his abundant life. 

Bishops are good men, not saints; holy men but not perfect. 

St. Juan Diego presents the miraculous image of Our Lady of Guadalupe to his bishop. 

The roses in winter are a sign of new life and hope. December 12, 1531.

I discovered this painting several years ago at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico. I have always been fascinated by the figure of the bishop who initially dismissed the peasant Juan Diego and was understandably skeptical of his story about the beautiful lady who appeared to him at Tepayac on the outskirts of Mexico City. The lady asked that a shrine be built on that site so that she could comfort her suffering children. The bishop doubted the peasant’s story and he quickly rejected the idea of building a shrine!

But the beautiful lady wouldn’t take no for answer. After first curing Juan Diego’s sick uncle, the lady gave the peasant her tilma (cloak) and asked him to go back to the bishop and give it to him. When Juan Diego opened the tilma in the presence of the bishop, fresh roses fell out. What’s more, the astonished bishop saw the image we now know as Our Lady of Guadalupe miraculously embedded in the cloth.

I have worked with and for dozens of bishops during the past 38 years. They each had/have different personalities and pastoral styles, but all were/are men of the Church with a strong desire to be faithful disciples of Jesus and devoted sons of his mother. I can say of all these bishops that they were/are good men, not saints; holy men but not perfect.

I ask myself: What would Archbishop Tom Kelly do if confronted by someone like Juan Diego? How about Cardinal Francis George? Or any of the other bishops I know?

More than likely, each would have treated the poor, uneducated man with respect. But they would have required more evidence before accepting his story as true and, certainly, before building a shrine. In fact, the Church now has processes that must be followed, and requirements that must be met, before a Marian apparition can be authenticated.

But what if these good bishops had been presented with the awe-inspiring tilma and the roses in winter? Would they have immediately embraced the miracle and praised God for Mary’s presence and her care for the “suffering children” of the local community?

I think the answer is yes. In their hearts of hearts, they would have believed gratefully that the mother of our Lord has come once again as at Tepeyac nearly 500 years ago (and as at Fatima in Portugal 100 years ago). They would still have initiated the proper investigative processes and sought authentication by the Holy See, but they would have done so with confidence and hope—not with skepticism or scorn.

The image I discovered at a gift shop at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe now hangs proudly in my office above my desk. It reminds me daily, but especially on December 12, that I work for this lady (and her divine son) in collaboration with bishops (and priests) who are good men, not saints, and holy men but not perfect.

Political activity must truly be conducted at the service of the human person, with respect for creation and for the common good. (Pope Francis)

This is the authentically Catholic view of politics/public service. It is not about power or prestige. Never self-serving or grandiose, but humble & dedicated to the good of others.

Notice that Pope Francis identifies three critical aspects of public service: 1) the individual human person, 2) God’s creation—all things visible and invisible, and 3) the common good. All three must be safeguarded, nurtured and developed by those who hold positions of responsibility whether in government, business, education, healthcare or the Church. We are called to be responsible stewards of all God’s gifts, and nothing is more worthy of good stewardship than these three precious gifts: the individual person, creation and the common good.

I call this “the authentically Catholic view of politics/public service” because Catholic social teaching is grounded in the the conviction that every man, woman and child is made in the image and likeness of God and, therefore, possesses equal rights and dignity regardless of race, creed, nationality, ethnicity, social background or economic status.

Here is what the Catechism of the Catholic Church (#1929-1930) says:

Social justice can be obtained only in respecting the transcendent dignity of man. the person represents the ultimate end of society, which is ordered to him:

What is at stake is the dignity of the human person, whose defense and promotion have been entrusted to us by the Creator, and to whom the men and women at every moment of history are strictly and responsibly in debt (John Paul II, SRS 47).

Respect for the human person entails respect for the rights that flow from his dignity as a creature. These rights are prior to society and must be recognized by it. They are the basis of the moral legitimacy of every authority: by flouting them, or refusing to recognize them in its positive legislation, a society undermines its own moral legitimacy (Cf. John XXIII, PT 65). If it does not respect them, authority can rely only on force or violence to obtain obedience from its subjects. It is the Church's role to remind men of good will of these rights and to distinguish them from unwarranted or false claims.

Ninety-Six years ago today, December 9, 1921, my father, Jack Conway, was born to Margaret Nelson and Timothy Joseph Conway. He was a man of few words who loved his wife, Helen, his family, his Church and his country.

In my book, A Man of Few Words: Remembering Jack Conway, I offer the following reflections:

At my sister Anne’s wedding reception in 1979, my father was asked to propose a toast. He began by saying, “I am a man of few words and seven children.” I was struck by the simple power of his words. It was the first, and only, time I heard him speak in public, and it meant a lot to me to hear him sum up who he was in this simple phrase—“a man of few words and seven children.”

There were many other things he might have said. He was an attorney, an ardent Republican and a veteran of World War II. He was also a member of a large, prominent family in Cleveland, Ohio, whose father had been a charismatic, highly successful supermarket executive and civic leader. He was Irish-American and a devout Catholic. He played sports (football, hockey and baseball) in high school and during his early college years before he enlisted in the Army. He was even offered a football scholarship to Harvard University, but his father told him to decline it. “We can afford it,” my grandfather said. “There are many other deserving students who can’t.” He remained a passionate sports enthusiast until the day he died at age 93.

But John L. (Jack) Conway described himself as a man of few words and seven children. I don’t know whether he gave much thought to it. He probably didn’t even know he would be asked to stand up and say something that night. My guess is that when he opened his mouth to begin the toast, “I am a man of few words and seven children” is what came out—spontaneously and from the heart.

For Jack Conway, “a man of few words” meant a doer not a talker. It meant someone who was simple, straightforward and a man of his word. And that’s what he was—a man of integrity who said what he meant and who stood up for what he believed. Jack Conway saw himself as a man who didn’t talk much, but who quietly and consistently did what he knew was right.

To be the father of seven children was a source of genuine pride for him. As my sister Anne said in her eulogy, “he loved each of his children deeply and unconditionally.” And, “he was madly in love with our mother for close to 70 years.”

Jack Conway was a family man first and foremost. His parents, Margaret and Tim Conway, instilled that in him from his earliest days. He loved and respected his parents—and his two sisters and ten brothers—deeply and unconditionally, so it was natural for him to offer that same love and devotion to Helen, his wife of 50 years, and to each of us, his seven children. 

Happy Birthday, Dad. We love you and we miss you!

Slightly more than 50 years ago, in August of 1967, I saw this view of Saint Meinrad Archabbey in southern Indiana for the first time. My experiences on this “holy hill” changed my life forever. The people I met there—monks, lay faculty, fellow students and co-workers in the development office—became mentors and lifelong friends. 

My newest book, The Benedictine Way, describes simply (but I hope substantially) what I have learned from men and women who have dedicated their whole lives to seeking God in a monastic community. Their way of life is not glamorous. It is rarely attention-getting. It strives for patience, humility and wisdom—not immediately, but over the course of an entire lifetime. 

If you have visited Saint Meinrad in the past, I urge to to return. If you’ve never been there, by all means go. You’ll be pleased you did. 

Waiting in joyful hope, Advent brings out the best in us. 

Advent is a time for endurance, waiting, quietness and joyful hope. Scripture says “It is good that one wait quietly for the Lord’s salvation” (Lamentations 3:26).

How unlike the commercial pre-Christmas season with all it’s noise and impatience! How different from the preoccupation with material things, and with the buying and selling of trinkets and gadgets and the latest fashions!

Advent calls us to a renewed sense of wonder and beauty and peace. This is what we long for—the truth of our existence revealed in the most unremarkable way, the birth of a little child, the most vulnerable and innocent of all God’s creatures. 

Can it really be true that what we seek most desperately in our heart of hearts, our deepest and most ardent longing, will come to us in this way? No artifice. No pomp or circumstance. No bravado. Will he really come like a thief in the night, noticed only by outcasts and foreigners, and laid in a manger with an ox and an ass?

During Advent, we renew this joyful hope. Life is not as complicated as it seems. The hopes and fears of all the years are addressed with radical simplicity: Love comes to us in the form of a child, calling us to throw off all our anxious burdens and cast aside the baggage of our impatient adulthood. 

It is good that one wait quietly for the Lord’s salvation. 

Something is seriously wrong here. Our culture is deeply confused about the meaning of human sexuality—telling us, on the one hand, that between consenting adults “ anything goes,” and, on the other hand, fulminating with outrage whenever there is an allegation of abusive sexual behavior by someone who happens to be on the other side of our preferred place in the cultural divide. 

Of course we should be outraged when someone (anyone) forces himself on someone else, especially a child, youth or subordinate. But current expressions of indignation are laced with political overtones on both the left and the right. How is it that we are suddenly aware that behavior that was tolerated 20 years ago has become intolerable? What has changed? 

To make matters worse, reporting of allegations against powerful men in politics, business, the arts, religion and the entertainment industry has become more and more graphic. Why do we think it’s OK to report (and discuss) in detail allegations which have not yet been proven? What about the possibility of false allegations—as was the case in the 1990s when Cardinal Joseph Bernadin was accused of abusing a young man who later confessed that it never happened? I don’t recall the specifics, but I’m quite sure that—thanks be to God—the media in those days did not report the graphic details of what the young man accused the Cardinal of doing to him when he was a seminarian in the 1970s. 

Not so today. Now we are given the vivid details of what the latest public figure is accused of doing, and our understandable outrage is so great that we forget two things: 1) For very important reasons related to our freedom and basic human rights, under the law this alleged abuser is innocent until proven guilty, and 2) there really are some things that are not “fit to print” even if they turn out to be true. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am for zero tolerance of abusive sexual behavior whenever and wherever it occurs. No one has the right to impose himself or herself on an unwilling person, especially children and those who are most vulnerable. I accept (and approve of) policies that remove alleged abusers from situations where they could harm others whenever there is reason to believe that the accusations against them are credible. 

But some measure of humanity must be maintained if the accused are to be given an opportunity to disprove the charges against them. How is this possible if newspapers and other media spread salacious x-rated stories about them—especially if they do not possess the resources required to set the record straight in the court of public opinion?

If the allegations are true, the victims of these sad, sick men should not have to relive their humiliation. If the allegations are false, no one should be exposed to the scandalous, pornographic lies told against them. 

Something is seriously wrong here. As a society we need to do much better. 

“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality,” Dr. King said. “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”  Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 1967

The bold vision articulated passionately by Martin Luther King, Jr. more than 50 years ago remains even more inspiring and powerful today. While most reasonable people now share Dr. King’s beliefs (as was not the case five decades ago), far too many people—including young people—still espouse points of view that are diametrically opposed to his conviction that only love can drive out hate. 

As individuals and as a society, we have a sacred obligation to witness to the truth that “there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; we are all one in Jesus Christ” (Galatians 3:28). What’s more, we are all equal in human dignity and civil rights. Anyone who disputes this truth, or acts contrary to its fundamental principles, is a racist and a fool. 

I’m not very good at saying ”no” to myself. If I want something badly enough, chances are I’ll find a way to do it, get it or buy it. 

According to Father Michael Casey, O.C.S, in his powerful book, Living in the Truth: Saint Benedict’s Teaching on Humility, “Our saying ‘yes’ to Christ is conditional upon our saying ‘no’ to ourselves. If self-will is our first priority, we can never be followers of Christ.”

This insight is fundamental to Christian discipleship. Jesus’ obedience to his Father’s will is what we are called to imitate—not in a slavish or perfunctory way but because our hearts are full of love.  “Not my will but thine be done” is the prayer of Jesus during his agony in the garden. It is a decisive moment in the passion narrative because in this act of saying “no” to himself and “yes” to the Father’s will, Jesus sets in motion all of the events that surround his death and lead to his resurrection. 

In my new book, The Benedictine Way, I address this aspect of Christian discipleship from my own experience:

It’s clear to me that my formation as a man and as a Christian began in earnest when I stopped trying to do things my way. My will was not a reliable guide in any aspect of my life. Only when I opened my mind and heart to God’s will as it was revealed to me through the teaching and example of faculty, spiritual directors and administrators at Saint Meinrad did I find my way.

Over the years, this truth has been reaffirmed many times. My way is a dead end.  The Benedictine Way, which includes the full teaching and practice of the Catholic Church, is the way to life. But I must listen attentively to others—especially “veteran members” of the Church community or I too easily slip back into my former ways of doing things.

 I need to keep at it—saying “no” to myself in big things and little things.  One day at a time. 

Is this just the tip of the iceberg? More allegations of sexual misconduct against powerful men emerge every day. 

Ten days ago, on November 19, I posted the comments below. 

Aren’t you tired of reading about the outrageous sexual behavior of powerful men?  

I am. As a man, a husband, father and grandfather, I am deeply disturbed by the seemingly endless revelations of totally unacceptable actions (and talk) by men in high places in our society.  

What’s going on here? I’m afraid it’s evidence of serious moral decay. Men who can’t control their impulses are not men. They’re boys whose emotional growth is stunted and whose character is deeply flawed. No mature man forces himself on a woman, another man or a child! No man who has reached physical, emotional or mental maturity allows his aggressive sexual urges to dominate his behavior toward others. 

These are men with serious problems. They need help. They do not belong in positions of authority or power over others.  

In recent years we’ve seen that sexual predators can be found where we least expect them to be—occupying positions of trust and confidence in the Church, in government, in the entertainment industry, in business and in fact anywhere there are opportunities to exercise power and influence over others. 

It’s tempting to blame the so-called sexual revolution of the 1960s for this outbreak of sexual abusiveness, but those of us who grew up in the 1950s experienced its powerful behind-the-scenes effects. Sexual abuse is out in the open now, and that’s a good thing, but it doesn’t make it easier to stomach.  

We need to rethink our understanding of the meaning and purpose of human sexuality. And many of us—especially rich and powerful men—-need to change the way we express ourselves sexually. 

In June 2002, when faced (finally) with the awful truth of clergy sexual abuse and the failure of Church leaders at all levels to deal with it appropriately, the bishops of the United States developed a charter with a zero tolerance policy. No clergyman or church employee who is credibly accused, and subsequently found guilty, of abusive sexual behavior may remain in Church ministry. No exceptions. No excuses. 

I think it’s time for leaders in all other sectors to do the same. It is no longer acceptable—if it ever was—for powerful predators to simply apologize for bad acts and then go about their business as usual in government, business, the news and entertainment industry, social service, education or religion. We must hold our leaders to a higher standard, and they must be held accountable for their actions. 

Once again, we need to rethink our understanding of the meaning and purpose of human sexuality. And many of us—especially rich and powerful men—-either need to change the way we express ourselves sexually or face the serious consequences of an across-the-board “zero tolerance policy.”

Available now at Amazon.com—my new book, The Benedictine Way. 

In this book of reflections about Benedictine spirituality, author I share with readers my reflections on the joy and peace that I have found in and through 50 years of association with women and men who follow the “Benedictine Way.”  

In spite of what some would say, the Benedictine way is not primarily about the fuga mundi (withdrawal or “flight from the world”). It is, instead, a way of “being in the world but not of it,” a manner of engagement that allows Christians to enjoy all the good things God has made without turning them into false idols that distort our values and consume us in the process.

 Archabbot Kurt Stasiak of Saint Meinrad summarizes Benedictine monasticism as “seeking God
in community” which presumes a commitment to being guided by others and helping others find God. Prayer and fidelity to the common life are the principal ways that followers of St. Benedict seek God in community over the course of a whole lifetime. Archabbot Kurt goes on to say that “mutual obedience to the Rule, the abbot and to each other is the way to God” for monks and for all who strive to live according to the teaching of St. Benedict.

Once it is understood and lived authentically, the Benedictine Way is truly a way of peace and joy. That never happens overnight. It takes time to absorb the principles and practices of Benedictine spirituality and to integrate them into our minds and hearts.  This is true for vowed monks whose whole lives are dedicated to living the Rule of Benedict in a particular place and time. It’s also true for ordinary people who are not called to be monks but who are seeking ways to live the Gospel that can help them cope with the madness of everyday living “in the world.”

Pope Francis makes me uncomfortable. With all his talk of God’s love and mercy, with all his emphasis on peace and joy, this pope makes me feel embarrassed and guilty. 

He accuses me (rightly) of the sin of indifference. He chastises me for neglecting the sacrament of penance, and he challenges me to get off my couch and go to the peripheries to become involved with the poor and the sick, the homeless and the imprisoned. 

Why can’t I simply be content living a good life? Why can’t I simply keep the commandments and follow the path of least resistance? The world is a dangerous place. Why not stay in my comfort zone where there is peace and quiet and security?

The words and symbolic gestures of Pope Francis are unsettling. They prick my conscience and interfere with my self-satisfied life. I’d rather not go there, thank you. Things are fine just the way they are. 

But, of course, there’s the Gospel for today (Matthew 25:31-46). “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, I’ll and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

When did I do these things? More importantly, when did I fail to do these things?

Pope Francis invites me to surrender and let the words and example of Jesus guide me on the way to joy. The words and actions of Pope Francis, like the words and example of Jesus, make me uncomfortable. 

Help me, Lord. I’m not good at this. 

              D. Gill Ring 5/9/36–2/10/16   Photo by Mike Harp

What makes a great teacher? Witnessing to the truth. 

During my days as a student, I was blessed with many excellent teachers. In elementary school and high school, my favorite teachers taught English, religion and history. In college and graduate school, my best teachers taught English, philosophy and theology. Their influence on my life and work was powerful. Whatever gifts I now possess as a writer and consultant, while certainly God-given, were shaped and formed by the women and men who taught me everything I know and everything I believe. 

The best teacher I ever had was Gill Ring. I only had him in class for two semesters my senior year at Saint Meinrad. (He taught philosophy there for more than 45 years). But he continued to teach me outside the classroom in conversations that covered every subject imaginable, and in the process we became lifelong friends.

Why was Gill a great teacher? He was able to share with his students (with me) his own struggles—to understand, to accept, to believe. He was transparent in his search for truth, and he absolutely refused to accept false or shallow substitutes. 

To some, he appeared arrogant or rigid in his thinking. Others feared his powerful intellect which could easily intimidate the faint of heart. But he was like all truly great thinkers—driven by an insatiable desire to discover the truth of things. 

In fact, he was one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. He would stop whatever he was doing to help someone in need, especially someone (like me) struggling with inner demons, doubts or fears. 

We were friends for 45 years, and during this time he never stopped teaching me—sometimes with his words and stories but always by his example. His love for his wife, Gail, his conversion to the Catholic Church, and his determination to help students become authentic, critical thinkers inspired me and many others to listen carefully and then decide for ourselves. 

His final lesson came at the end of his life when because of a stroke he couldn’t say what was on his mind. It must have been pure hell for a man like Gill (a professional talker) to be tongue-tied, to be prevented from articulating his deepest thoughts and most basic desires. But he continued teaching—in the classroom as long as possible and in his daily life until the day his heart gave out and he died. 

Gill Ring was a great teacher. His entire life was a witness to the search for truth—in his marriage and family life, in his philosophy classes, in his friendships and, ultimately, in the way he let go of his considerable ego and surrendered to the mysterious will of God. 

There came a time in my young life when I said to myself in all seriousness: When I grow up, I want to be a man like Gill Ring. That’s still true today. 

Gratitude is contagious. Spread it freely!

At the very top of my “gratitude list” is my wife of almost 39 years, Sharon Ann (Hudec) Conway.

I could write a book (and maybe I will some day) about my love and appreciation for my beautiful, intelligent, talented and loving wife, Sharon, but for now here’s just one excerpt from this “gratitude story.”

Many years ago, when our children were little, I was given the task of getting the kids ready and the car packed for our annual Christmas trip to Cleveland while Sharon, a nurse, worked a half-day. Once Mom was home, we all jumped in the minivan and headed north. About half way there (definitely past the point of no return), Sharon asked me if I’d remembered to pack the Christmas presents that she and the kids planned to give Grandma and their aunts, uncles and cousins.

“What presents?” I said, knowing instantly that I had screwed-up big time.

Sharon and the kids were devastated. All their carefully wrapped presents were still at home where I left them. And there was no turning back.

After a few minutes of very uncharacteristic silence in the car, Sharon called her mother to say that we were well on our way and would arrive soon. “Unfortunately, we have a problem,” she said. We left all the Christmas presents at home, so we won’t be able to participate in the gift exchange. We’ll have to mail everyone’s presents when we get back.”

I was horrified, embarrassed and feeling more than a little foolish. But Sharon’s words to her mother struck me. She said, “We left the Christmas presents at home.” Not “Dan left the Christmas presents at home.”

It hit me then as never before. She believes that we are “one flesh” for better or worse, in good times and in careless, insensitive times like this.

Thank you, Sharon, for all the love and support you give me—and for putting up with me for nearly four decades. I love you.

Family is what Thanksgiving is all about. 

I’m thankful for my deceased parents and grandparents and all the aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who are no longer with us.

I’m thankful for my wife (Sharon) my children (Suzanne, Catherine, Margaret, Mary and Danny), my granddaughter (Jocelyn), all my in-laws (the Hudec family), my many aunts, uncles and cousins, and all my friends and colleagues. So many people, so many gifts to be thankful for.

Thanks be to God for blessings that far outweigh my troubles.

Archbishop Thomas J. Murphy’s nephew Brian keeps his uncle’s memory—and his stewardship message—alive this Thanksgiving. 

As many of you know, my uncle served the Catholic Church as a priest for just shy of 40 years. He was ordained in Chicago. His vocation brought him to serve as the Bishop of Great Falls-Billings, MT. At the time of his death in 1997, he served as the Archbishop of Seattle. 

He truly loved his vocation. One of his greatest skills was communication. His use of the written word enabled him to make meaningful connections with all the members of his flock - young and old, rich and poor, liberal or conservative. 

Throughout his almost 19 years as a bishop, he wrote a weekly column for the diocesan newspaper. All told he published more than 650 columns. For whatever reason, some of his most meaningful written works were penned during Thanksgiving time. 

The attached column was published on November 20, 1983. With Thanksgiving taking place tomorrow and the craziness of the Christmas season just around the corner, I wanted to share this column with you. 

I wish you and all of your families a happy and healthy Thanksgiving filled with many blessings. 

Brian J. Murphy

Montana Catholic Register November 20, 1983

Reflections

by the

Most Reverend Thomas J. Murphy

Some November Thoughts

November is a unique time for many people. It seems to give out mixed messages of life and death, hope and fear. Maybe the grey skies and the first signs of winter create that environment which make us aware of our human fragility. But that is interrupted by the encroaching announcement of holiday sales and Christmas songs. For those of us who remember well the sudden death of a young president, November is always a reminder of the uncertainty of life itself and the futility of living for the future if we forget the gift of the present moment.

November begins in the aftermath of ghosts and goblins who usher in this month of mixed messages. As Christians, we greet all the saints of heaven, but the Church immediately calls our attention to those who died and who wait for their entrance into heaven. Next week, the secular world asks us to pause and to celebrate Thanksgiving, a reality which is ours as Catholics each day in the Eucharist. November usually ends, as it does this year, with the beginning of Advent and the opportunity to relive the whole mystery of salvation in a new liturgical year.

So much is crammed into such a short period of time. In so many ways, November is a
reflection of life itself. It marks the beginning and the end of time; it celebrates life and death, thanksgiving and hope. A brief glance at the endless miles of land in Eastern Montana could well prompt the initial observer to remark that the land is devoid of life. But we know full well the teeming forces of nature are preparing to burst forth into new life and energy in but a short time.

I come to this month with all the human awareness of the messages which November offers. But hopefully I come as a person of faith who recognizes the need for the Lord, the importance of the Church, the great gift of the Eucharist, and the importance of people. I come with a sense of hope that as individuals and a community of faith that we are open to renewal and reconciliation, that we are able to deepen our relationship to the Lord and grow as disciples of Jesus.

For some, November is a dreary month. For me, it is a graced time as any time is when we open ourselves to the presence of God. Happy Thanksgiving!

Wisdom from Nashville Bishop-Elect J. Mark Spalding. From a homily November 12, 2017 (the day before he learned that Pope Francis had called him to be Bishop of Nashville):

1. Take death seriously.

2. Choose your friends carefully.

3. Know that “no” is often the most loving thing you can say.

Bishop-Elect Spalding (right) with his good friend Archbishop Chuck Thompson of Indianapolis. Both are Kentucky natives formed in the American Holy Land and blessed with pastoral gifts that inspire others to cast off the sin of indifference and be passionate missionary disciples.

“The wonderful parishioners whom I have served know of my constant reminder to them and to myself: ‘To whom much is given, much will be required,’ ” Bishop-elect Spalding said during the press conference. “I pledge to demand much from myself as I work with the priests, deacons, consecrated religious, seminarians, and lay faithful of the Diocese of Nashville to inspire a zeal for the Gospel, serve those in need, promote vocations, provide lifelong formation through strong Catholic schools and parish formation programs, call forth the gifts of our youth and young adults, provide a place of welcome for persons of every race, culture and language, and support families in their vocation as schools of love.”

Bishop-elect Spalding told the crowd at the press conference, “I’m a passionate preacher. I love preaching. You speak the word in a way that is reverent but also in a way that inspires others,” he said.

Bishop-elect Spalding said he will take his episcopal motto from Mary’s hymn of praise, the Magnificat. God has lifted up the lowly.

“With God’s grace and Mary’s yes as my guide, I will seek always to walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd.”

Still amazed by the news that our pastor, Father Mark Spalding, has been appointed Bishop of Nashville by Pope Francis. It’s a great call. Fr. Mark is a superb pastor and an outstanding preacher. He will be sorely missed at our parish, but the Church in Nashville will be greatly blessed by their new bishop’s ministry. 

A child’s smile is one of the most beautiful, hope-filled gifts we can receive. Woe to us if we cause our children to suffer in mind, body or spirit!

The innocence and vulnerability of a child is a precious thing to be cherished and enjoyed. But it is also a grave responsibility. All of us—parents, family, community and society as a whole share responsibility for nurturing, protecting, educating and rearing our children from conception to adulthood. If we neglect this sacred duty, individual children suffer but so does society.

Aren’t you tired of reading about the outrageous sexual behavior of powerful men? 

I am. As a man, a husband, father and grandfather, I am deeply disturbed by the seemingly endless revelations of totally unacceptable actions (and talk) by men in high places in our society. 

What’s going on here? I’m afraid it’s evidence of serious moral decay. Men who can’t control their impulses are not men. They’re boys whose emotional growth is stunted and whose character is deeply flawed. No mature man forces himself on a woman, another man or a child! No man who has reached physical, emotional or mental maturity allows his aggressive sexual urges to dominate his behavior toward others. These are men with serious problems. They need help. They do not belong in positions of authority or power over others. 

In recent years we’ve seen that sexual predators can be found where we least expect them to be—occupying positions of trust and confidence in the Church, in government, in the entertainment industry, in business and in fact anywhere there are opportunities to exercise power and influence over others. 


It’s tempting to blame the so-called sexual revolution of the 1960s for this outbreak of sexual abusiveness, but those of us who grew up in the 1950s experienced its powerful behind-the-scenes effects. Sexual abuse is out in the open now, and that’s a good thing, but it doesn’t make it easier to stomach. 

We need to rethink our understanding of the meaning and purpose of human sexuality. And many of us—especially rich and powerful men—-need to change the way we express ourselves sexually. 

St. John Paul II offered us all a profoundly simple, life-affirming way to regard the mystery of human sexuality. Through his theology of the body, he reminded us that holiness and spirituality have a physical dimension. We express who we are as persons through our sexuality, and we show our reverence and concern for others by treating them with genuine care and respect physically as well as emotionally. 

There is no excuse for the abusive behavior of powerful men (or anyone). The sooner we make this clear to all, the healthier we will be as individuals and as a society. 

We should never underestimate the importance (or power) of practicing what we preach.

“When Unbelievers hear the words of God on our lips, they are amazed at their beauty & power, but when they see that those words have no effect in our lives...they dismiss such words as myths.” (From a 2nd century Homily). To what degree does that commentary apply to our lives? (Bishop Paul Bradley)

Bishop Paul Bradley of Kalamazoo, MI, is a friend from our school days at Saint Meinrad. He has always had a keen love for the poor, and he serves his diocese with grace and humility.

The Benedictine Way—my new book. Coming soon. In it, I offer personal reflections on the way of life taught by St. Benedict and lived by Benedictine men and women for 1500+ years.

Here is an excerpt:

My  first encounter with the Benedictine way of life happened nearly 50 years ago in August of 1967. I arrived sight unseen at Saint Meinrad Archabbey in southern Indiana as a college freshman totally unprepared for what I was about to experience. My time at Saint Meinrad as a student (1967-71), a novice and monk in temporary vows (1971-75), and a development staff member (1979-88) changed my life, slowly but surely teaching me how to live a reasonably happy and productive life the Benedictine way.

Now, five decades later, I can see more clearly how I was formed intellectually, emotionally and spiritually by Benedictines.  They helped me deal with, but not totally eliminate, the chaos inside me and all around me.  They  taught me how to live in a loving, unselfish way as a disciple of Jesus Christ. And they helped me accept myself as a sinful man who had been forgiven and redeemed by a merciful, all-loving God.

Like  all my books, The Benedictine Way was a labor of love. It was also a way of expressing my deep gratitude and appreciation for all the gifts I have received from men and women living the  Benedictine way.

Special to The Criterion
November 13, 2017

100th Anniversary of Bishops’ Conference urges “looking forward” as well as “looking back”

Archbishop Charles C. Thompson’s first fall meeting of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) as Archbishop of Indianapolis was an historic occasion, the 100th anniversary of the bishops’ conference. One hundred years ago, in response to the immense human suffering and displacement of people brought about by the First World War, the American bishops came together as never before to bring the Gospel message of hope and joy to immigrants who came to the New World seeking security and a better life.

Much has changed in the past 100 years, but the bishops’ mission is the same: To be the welcoming arms of Jesus Christ for all who come to this country seeking freedom, justice and economic well-being. The bishops’ stance toward immigration was not always understood, or popular, a century ago. But it was grounded in the Church’s absolute conviction that every human person is made in God’s image and is, therefore, worthy of dignity and respect.

As Archbishop Thompson reflected on this anniversary, he noted, “Our celebration of the centenary of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops marks a wonderful milestone in the collegiality and unity of the U.S. Bishops with one another and the Holy Father.  Marking the 100th Anniversary of our Conference, noting that each bishop is a successor to the apostles, impresses upon me the link of my own ministry with all those who have gone before, are currently serving and to come after me.  The Church in the United States has known some incredible shepherds, not the least of which include Bishop Benedict Joseph Flaget of Bardstown and Bishop Simon Brute of Vincennes.”

Pope Francis’s personal representative in the United States, Archbishop Christophe Pierre, Apostolic Nuncio, brought greetings from the Holy Father. But he also brought a challenge. Quoting Pope Francis’s remarks during his recent trip to Colombia, the Nuncio said, “The essential things in life and in the Church are never written in stone, but remain a living legacy.” Archbishop Pierre went on to remind bishops—once again in the Holy Father’s words—that their mission requires passion:

“We need to have the passion of young lovers and wise elders, a passion that turns ideas into viable utopias, a passion for the work of our hands, a passion that makes us constant pilgrims in our churches…I ask you for passion, the passion of evangelization.”

These stirring words, and the experience of this historic meeting, prompted Archbishop Thompson to say: “ I am also reminded of a prayer found in the Church's Liturgy of the Hours, imploring the Lord to not leave the shepherd without a flock nor the flock without a shepherd, which only increases my gratitude for the wonderful clergy, religious and laity that make up the Archdiocese of Indianapolis.  Together, as members of both the local and universal Church, we are the Body of Christ called to give witness as missionary disciples to the joy of the gospel.”

There was plenty of passion on display as the American bishops discussed at length the challenges we face today in the areas of abortion, immigration reform, racism, gun violence, physician assisted suicide, protection for the rights of conscience among healthcare providers and employers and other “headline issues” of our time. Political advocacy is crucial but so is the moral education of our people and, above all, the conversion of hearts.

As the Apostolic Nuncio reminded the bishops, Pope Francis urges all of us to beware of “the gray pragmatism of the daily life of the Church, in which all appears to proceed normally, while in reality faith is wearing down and degenerating into small-mindedness.” Once again, passion, not pragmatism, is what should characterize the ministry of bishops, successors of the apostles called to be in “a permanent state of mission.”

Archbishop Thompson’s reflections on his own call to passionate ministry on behalf of the people of central and southern Indiana says it all: “Perhaps a personal renewal to the universal call to holiness and mission is the best way for me to celebrate this grand centennial moment in  the history of the Catholic Church in the United States.  To that end, I ask all to please pray for me.”

Daniel Conway

Archbishop Paul Etienne, Cardinal Joseph Tobin and Archbishop Charles Thompson