Hank Rosso was a Master Teacher and a gentle soul except when the people and things he loved were threatened. 

The first time I met him I thought he was an unlikely messenger for the cause of professional fundraising. He had a slight, but noticeable, speech impediment and he was hard of hearing due to a war injury. He was advanced in age (describing himself as “an old walrus”) and The Fund Raising School that he founded and operated with his feisty wife, Dottie, was a low budget, low overhead “mom and pop” enterprise.

Boy was I wrong! The moment Hank opened his mouth to teach, out came wisdom, humor, practical insights and genuine humanity flowing like milk and honey. On closer inspection, The Fund Raising School showed itself to be a first-rate, deeply professional organization that was dedicated to teaching  the art (and a little science) of fundraising in a systematic and impactful way that was totally new to the world of philanthropic fundraising

I was a young development officer then (the 1980s) and I had been taught to be skeptical of people who saw themselves as “merely” fundraisers. Boy was I wrong! As taught by Hank Rosso, “fundraising is the gentle art of teaching the joy of giving.” It is nothing like twisting people’s arms or selling them something they don’t want to buy. And fundraisers are people who are privileged to present people with opportunities to make a difference in the world through their giving and, as a result, to experience profound joy.

Hank was a simple man. I got to know him personally through workshops we conducted in three neighboring Catholic dioceses. I would speak about the spirituality of stewardship and Hank would explain how stewardship principles can be put into practice through the art of professional, systematic fundraising.

“You can raise more money with an organized approach to fundraising than with a disorganized approach,” he said frequently. How simple. How often misunderstood.

As with all entrepreneurs, Hank had to face the questions of succession and sustainability. His dream was to ground The Fund Raising School in the academy so that it’s teaching would be enriched by research and reflection and, in turn, it could provide students with practical wisdom based on experience “in the field.” But Hank was fiercely protective of The Fund Raising School and it’s people. He refused to settle for anything less than excellence in his school and its teaching, and he refused to turn it over to anyone (or any institution) that did not share his vision.

Hank’s dream came true in 1987 when The Fund Raising School became an integral part of Indiana University’s Center On Philanthropy (now The Lilly Family School of Philanthropy). The genius of Henry A. Rosso, his charisma and insights, were institutionalized with this move. That’s not an easy thing to pull off, but it worked thanks to the leadership of IU’s Dr. Gene Tempel and many others who truly believed that the Rosso approach to teaching fundraising could be successfully transplanted to a great university and, in the process, be nurtured, cultivated and grown.

I am deeply grateful to Hank Rosso for all that he taught me about the gentle art of fundraising. May his name always be associated with teaching the joy of giving!

What if you could talk to people you love who have died?

This is the question I posed several years ago in my book, A Communion of Saints: Dreams of Happiness on the Road to Life. 

Admittedly, it’s a hard book to classify. It’s not autobiography although it contains many autobiographical elements. It’s not fiction in the ordinary sense of the term, but it’s not exactly factual. I call it a work of imagination that I hope is true to the Catholic vision of life after death.

In the book, I set up an imaginary situation in which I have been in a car accident and am lying in a hospital bed in a coma. I can see and hear the people around me (my wife, Sharon, our children, doctors and nurses) but I can’t communicate with them in any way.

As I lie there, I drift in and out of sleep. While sleeping, I dream and in my dreams I encounter people I love who have died. We engage in conversations about life, death and what happens afterward. Some of the talk is very serious (as you might expect from conversations with dead people). Some is humorous (intended to be comic relief to keep the narrative from becoming too grim). But mostly, it’s simply an encounter between two people who haven’t seen each other for a long time.

Why write about death, about people who are long gone?

The older I get (and the closer I am to my own death), the more I wonder what it’s like to surrender to this unwanted but inevitable fact of human existence. Like it or not, each one of us will die. It doesn’t matter who we are, what we have done or failed to do, what we own or the circumstances of our life and death. Every one of us must die. Alone. Once and for all.

And yet, we have hope. Something deep inside tells us we are not alone in death. There is, we believe, a communion of saints. “Life is changed, not ended,” we pray at funerals for those we love. But what is this change like?

We can only imagine it. We have no empirical evidence, no scientific proofs. We are free to imagine that when our life on earth ends, nothing happens and we return to dust and ashes. Or we can imagine  becoming part of a cosmic life force, or a cycle of birth and rebirth, or a heavenly home with angels and pearly gates. The truth is we don’t know.

But the people I write about in A Communion of Saints all believed that there is life—a better life—after death. They were convinced that love is stronger than death and that God cares for each of us and wants us to live with him in love. Now and forever.

I enjoyed writing this little book. It gave me a chance to remember how much I miss the family members, friends, mentors and extraordinary teachers I was privileged to know and love during my formative years. I can’t say that this experience helped me fully understand the mystery that death is. But it helped me to face it more honestly, and it allowed me to share more fully in the belief that “hope springs eternal in the human breast”!



A Communion of Saints: Dreams of Happiness on the Road to Life is available at danielconwayauthor.com.

Papal Surprises Continue Five Years Later

A little more than five years ago, Pope Benedict XVI surprised the entire world with his announcement that he was stepping down from the throne of St. Peter, the first pope to resign in more than 400 years. 

Weeks later, the world was surprised again when Jorge Maria Bergoglio, the cardinal archbishop of Buenos Aires, was elected as the first non-European since the 8th century, the first from the Americas, and the first Jesuit pope. Surprising again was his choice of a name that no pope before him had chosen, and his decision to live in the Vatican guest house, rather than the papal residence.

The surprises have continued throughout the five years that Pope Francis has been Bishop of Rome. In the spirit of his patronal saint, Francis of Assisi, this pope has demonstrated his love for the poor and marginalized. He has sought out people in prisons, refugees, victims of natural disasters and homeless people living in the shadow of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. 

Pope Francis has surprised the world (including the Vatican’s inner circle) by his candid remarks on a wide variety of topics. He has challenged Christians to shake off indifference, move beyond their comfort zones, and go out to the peripheries to proclaim the Gospel and to “be Christ” for those who are most in need.

The 81 year-old pope shows surprising youth and vitality in his outreach to young people. He has traveled to traditional places such as the United States but also to unlikely places such as Bosnia and Herzegovina. He has met with world leaders from all over the globe and has not shied away from sensitive topics such as immigration reform and climate change.

The mainstream media often portray Pope Francis as a progressive papal reformer, but here, too, the pope is full of surprises. Traditional themes such as the importance of the Sacrament of Reconciliation are at the top of Pope Francis’s agenda, especially as he stresses the importance of divine mercy (a theme also stressed by Pope St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI). The main difference is that Pope Francis uses gestures to underscore his teaching. As a result, he frequently goes to Confession in places where he can be seen kneeling in a confessional, giving personal witness to the grace of the sacrament.

Pope Francis is sometimes accused of being too soft on sinners, especially those who are at variance with traditional Church teaching on sexuality. Here again, the pope’s pastoral approach may seem surprising, but in actuality he stands firmly with the Church. As Bishop Robert Barron has written in Vibrant Paradoxes: The Both/And of Catholicism, “I balk at the suggestion that the new pope represents a revolution or that he is dramatically turning away from the example of his immediate predecessors. And I strenuously deny that he is nothing but a soft-hearted powder-puff indifferent to sin.”

As Bishop Barron goes on to say, “To speak of mercy is to be intensely aware of sin and its peculiar form of destructiveness. Or, to shift to one of the pope’s favorite metaphors, it is to be acutely conscious that one is wounded so severely that one requires not minor treatment but the emergency and radical attention provided in a hospital on the edge of a battlefield.” The pope who answered a journalist’s question, “Who is Pope Francis?” with the simple but profound statement: “A sinner,” is not soft on sin, but he strongly insists on God’s mercy!

The words of Pope Francis are the subject of a new book, A Pope Francis Lexicon, which is a collection of more than fifty essays by contributors from around the globe including Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin, C.S.s.R. Each essay focuses on a particular word or phrase such as joy, clericalism, money, family, sourpuss, field hospital and tears. As the essays make clear, this pope’s influence is vast and profound not because of extensive writings (as was the case with his immediate predecessors) but because his words are often surprising and unsettling, cutting through the dense fog of the familiar cultural and ecclesial status quo and hitting very close to home—often too close for comfort!

As we observe the fifth anniversary of Jorge Maria Bergoglio’s election as Bishop of Rome, it’sappropriate to look backward and thank God for a pope who challenges us as often as he comforts us. We don’t have to agree with everything Pope Francis says (only the infallible teaching of the magisterium), but we should pay attention to him. 

Looking ahead, we should let him surprise us with his words and actions. And we should thank God for the gift of his papacy during the past five years. Ad multos annos!

Daniel Conway

A magnificent new cathedral has just been dedicated in eastern Tennessee, Sacred Heart Cathedral in the Diocese of Knoxville.

I haven’t been inside it yet, but I can’t wait for the opportunity. The photographs I’ve seen are stunning. It looks like it belongs among the massive basilicas of Rome, an architectural anomaly in our contemporary culture—both religious and secular.

Why build a cathedral today? There are lots of big churches that are nowhere near full on Sunday mornings. Why spend the time, effort and money building a brand new church?

I guess the answer depends on your understanding of what a cathedral is and why it is important to the life and ministry of a diocese, a local church.

A cathedral is the bishop’s church, the place where his chair (“cathedra”) is located. It is, in a sense, the mother church for all the other churches in a diocese. Many diocesan functions such as ordinations or the annual Chrism Mass, where sacred oils are blessed during Holy Week, take place in the cathedral. Sometimes civic functions such as community gatherings, concerts or plays take place in cathedrals because they are often focal points for the expression of a community’s life and values.

Knoxville is a young diocese established less than 30 years ago in 1988. The faith is very important to the Catholic people in eastern Tennessee, and the new Sacred Heart Cathedral gives a powerful witness to the dramatic growth of of their faith community during the past three decades.

Where I live, in Louisville, Kentucky, we have an old cathedral established in 1852 when the Church in the United States was still in its infancy. It, too, is a magnificent church but in a much simpler style called “new American gothic.” Lovingly renewed and rededicated in 1994, the Archdiocese of Louisville’s Cathedral of the Assumption is truly a sacred space and a gathering point for archdiocesan, ecumenical and inter-religious and civic events.

There are many beautiful cathedrals in North America, including those in New York, Newark, Montreal, St. Louis, Oakland and Los Angeles to name only a few. All represent the faith and generosity of the Catholic people. All stand as signs (sacramentals) of God’s presence among us.

Congratulations to Bishop Richard Sitka and the clergy, religious and faithful people of the Diocese of Knoxville. May your cathedral stand as a bold witness to our Catholic faith and culture for many years to come. That in all things God may be glorified!