CNA Staff, Oct 30, 2020 / 04:43 pm (CNA).- The Diocese of Brooklyn announced Friday the retirement of Octavio Cisneros from the office of auxiliary bishop. The Cuban-born bishop will remain in ministry as pastor at a local parish.
Cisneros had turned 75 in July. Diocesan bishops are required by canon law to submit their resignation to the pope upon reaching age 75. Pope Francis accepted Cisneros’ resignation Friday.
Bishop Nicholas DiMarzio of Brooklyn voiced gratitude for Cisneros.
“I am grateful to Bishop Cisneros for his willingness to serve and was honored to ordain him and consecrate him as an auxiliary Bishop on June 6, 2006,” said DiMarzio in a statement.
“He will remain as pastor at the Church of the Holy Child Jesus & St. Benedict Joseph Labre in Richmond Hill, Queens, and will continue to serve as Vicar for Hispanic Concerns. We thank Bishop Cisneros for his years of Diocesan leadership and are grateful he will continue to serve the Diocese in Brooklyn and Queens.”
In an Oct. 30 statement, Cisneros expressed his appreciation for the opportunity to serve as a bishop and for the dedication of Pope Francis to the clergy.
“I am most grateful to Pope Benedict and Bishop DiMarzio for giving me the fullness of the priesthood in 2006 so that I can help minister as auxiliary bishop, which has been rewarding and fulfilling for me,” he said.
“I am thankful to Pope Francis for his continued support of our bishops. He is an inspiration for all of us. I have lived a very happy priesthood in the Diocese of Brooklyn for 49 years and look forward to continuing my priestly ministry.”
Cisneros was born in 1945 in Las Villas, Cuba. During high school in 1961, he moved to the United States as part of Operation Peter Pan, an undercover Catholic program that brought 14,000 unaccompanied minors to the U.S. from Cuba as political refugees during the rise of Fidel Castro.
In 1971, he was ordained a priest in the Diocese of Brooklyn. He served at several local parishes before being appointed as the rector of Cathedral Seminary Residence in Douglaston and the Episcopal Vicar in the Brooklyn East Vicariate. Pope John Paul II named Cisneros a Prelate of Honor in 1988.
Cisneros worked with the Bishop’s Committee on the Liturgy and the Pastors’ Advisory Committee, the Northeast Catholic Center for Hispanics, and the “Instituto Nacional Hispano de Liturgia.” He has served as the president of the Conference of Diocesan Directors for the Spanish Apostolate and on the board of governors for the Immaculate Conception Seminary.
On October 30, Cisneros celebrated a special Mass with the Cuban-American community at Our Lady of Sorrows parish. There, he presented a statue of Our Lady of Charity to Pastor Manuel de Jesús Rodríguez.
If you value the news and views Catholic World Report provides, please consider donating to support our efforts. Your contribution will help us continue to make CWR available to all readers worldwide for free, without a subscription. Thank you for your generosity!
Click here for more information on donating to CWR. Click here to sign up for our newsletter.
Education has long been a core issue in the culture wars, including in Germany and France in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It continues to ignite fierce controversy in the English-speaking world today. British educator André Gushurst-Moore, in Glory in All Things: Saint Benedict & Catholic Education Today, succeeds at tracing the historical and religious roots of Benedictine education. Despite the timeless quality of this education, the author repeatedly explains (perhaps surprisingly) how it can serve today’s technological society. We cannot know the occupational requirements of our technological future, and therefore have only a limited inkling of how to prepare the young educationally and skills-wise—not that such an objective is the chief motivation behind Benedictine education. Nevertheless, a person-centered education that rejects a utilitarian approach, ironically, seems most able to shape a person with the best future for this society.
The religious and monastic roots of Benedictine education prioritize the counter-cultural fostering of virtuous habits. The author unfortunately skips over a detailed analysis of these virtues, which stem from the ancient Greeks and found wide application during the Middle Ages. Gushurst-Moore does observe the real-world impact of the current lack of virtue education in most schools. Business leaders “frequently note that job applicants lack character … and are thus not easily employable.” The strongly non-utilitarian spiritual and ethical features of Benedictine education in fact lead to positive practical outcomes. A well-formed all-around person can face a wider array of professional and social challenges than a more narrowly-formed individual.
This paradox of otherworldly-based utilitarianism has characterized the Benedictines throughout their history, as the author observes: “St Benedict did not set out … to save Western civilization; this was a by-product of the Benedictine approach to daily conversion of heart in those committed to living the Christian life.” Traditional virtue-oriented religious education produces far greater results than intended or foreseen, perhaps due to the ensuing spiritual capital. The author scarcely touches on spiritual capital, its nature, or outcomes, which is perhaps another small lack to Glory in All Things.
Gushurst-Moore’s clear and consistent picture of Benedictine education includes distinguishing it from other educational traditions, including the Jesuit ratio studiorum. The former’s alignment with Athens and the Socratic method contrasts with the Jesuit’s Spartan discipline and relative downplaying of free-thinking. Benedictine spirituality lies at the heart of the order’s education ideals. A monastic, contemplative, and intentional life, which the author portrays well, lies behind this: “In a time when the machine-world of industrial production seems ever-expanding, those things which are other to it — nature, beauty, the human heart — need to find a language, a way of life, to survive and grow.” Gushurt-Moore insightfully juxtaposes the Benedictine’s offering with that of our modern post-Christian technology-based culture. This will prompt many education stakeholders to reflect on what their students may be missing by foregoing such an education.
The author includes practical examples of the spiritual dimensions of this education, such as the practice of lectio divina, or “sacred reading.” He reveals the Catholic religious nature of this, as “openness of mind and heart was central to the discipline of lectio.” Sapientia is prioritized over scientia: “In the fourfold process of lectio divina (lectio, meditatio, oratio, and contemplatio) we see a movement upwards from text to divine wisdom.” While the author does not seek to impose any formula or specific curriculum on readers, he does offer enough of the practical to demonstrate the feasibility of this education. Teachers will have a clear idea of lectio divina and other classroom approaches and techniques to make a few practical changes.
Another fascinating and oft-overlooked aspect to the order’s holistic education is the vital role of the co-curriculum, traditionally called “extra-curricular activities.” The author envisions the co-curriculum as more active and productive than the classroom or library, and a space “where leisure can be exercised to bring something good, true, and beautiful into being.” This discussion, reminiscent of Josef Pieper, shows the all-encompassing natures of Catholic and Benedictine spirituality: It permeates all of life. The Benedictine co-curriculum “dissolves the potential duality (and ultimately false dichotomy) of work and play,” which implies creativity.
This chapter more than any other shows how Benedictine education would be revolutionary for today’s materialistic world by developing the sense of a spiritual connotation to every aspect of a student’s life. Gushurst-Moore borrows from Johan Huizinga’s Homo Ludens: A Study of the Play Element in Culture, including the idea that “the element of fantasy (or imagination) present in the act of play is the means by which the player takes himself into another sphere of being.” The author identifies interesting and edifying analogies between play and the liturgy. Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, the liturgy is seldom mentioned in Glory in All Things, which may leave some readers wondering about its role and significance in Benedictine education.
One commonly-recognized strength of modern schooling is the development of creativity. Gushurst-Moore’s intriguing and insightful remarks on creativity in education are worth repeating. The following seems to minimize the role of creativity: “Our engagement as human beings with Creation is to be imitative and co-creative.” Yet the author is at pains throughout the book to place Benedictine education within the wider Benedictine and Catholic traditions. Perhaps more implied than stated is the author’s strong belief that much of modernity is frivolous, and naturally this would include the type of creativity that secular schools develop—a thoughtless, aimless, egotistic, nihilistic creativity for creativity’s sake that cares more about deconstructing or aggressively asserting an ideology than about seeking and expressing truth.
The kind of creativity that Gushurst-Moore implies here is the creativity, often playful and joyful, of service to others, of symbol, allegory, and analogy, of reading the Bible and other books at different levels—something that he spends significant and beneficial space discussing. The creativity of the post-Christian world, totally different from, say, that of the medieval Benedictines, reveals the alienation of the modern and the monastic worldviews. The author does not shy away from underscoring this estrangement, and what it means educationally.
While Gushurst-Moore convincingly shows the failings and even pitfalls of modern secular education, which justify a Benedictine education more than ever, he doesn’t dwell on these shortcomings. He provides the antidote to the spiritual and pedagogical ailments that modernity has wrought. The antidote will form an individual who may even be somewhat at home in this topsy-turvy secular world because of the priceless and ageless anchor provided by Benedictine education.
If you value the news and views Catholic World Report provides, please consider donating to support our efforts. Your contribution will help us continue to make CWR available to all readers worldwide for free, without a subscription. Thank you for your generosity!
Click here for more information on donating to CWR. Click here to sign up for our newsletter.
Brian Welter has studied education, history, and theology and writes on these subjects for many publications including Studia gilsoniana. He teaches English in Taiwan.
Fr. Michael McGivney. (Credit: John Tierney/Father McGivney Guild)
New Haven, Conn., Oct 30, 2020 / 09:50 pm (CNA).- A prayer vigil for priests on the eve of the beatification of Ven. Michael McGivney took place Friday, October 30, at St. Mary’s Church in New Haven, the parish where McGivney served as a priest and founded the Knights of Columbus in 1882.
The vigil featured reflections from the father of a boy whose miraculous healing has been attributed to McGivney’s prayers.
The prayer vigil was structured around three lessons: Fr. McGivney as a parish priest of action and courage; Fr. McGivney as a model of co-responsible leadership; and Fr. McGivney’s intercession. Each lesson featured a Bible reading, a story about McGivney’s ministry that related to the theme of the lesson, and a reflection.
The first lesson included a passage of McGivney’s remarks from a Mass he celebrated for a condemned prisoner, Chip Smith. Smith had been sentenced to death for murdering a police police chief while in a drunken state, and McGivney met him while ministering to prisoners at the jail in New Haven. McGivney became Smith’s spiritual director, and was with him on the day of his execution.
McGivney’s prison ministry was just one of the ministries he undertook as a diocesan priest, said Msgr. Joseph Donnelly. Donnelly provided the reflection for the first lesson.
The life of a diocesan priest “is characterized largely by activity for the sake of the Kingdom of God in which God’s presence is undeniably real,” said Donnelly.
“It draws us to prayer. It calls us to conversion of heart. It strengthens us in holiness,” he said. “Moreover, it strengthens our experience of the bond we share with God and with those we are called to serve.”
“We belong to them, they belong to us, and together we belong to God,” he said. He asked the priests present if this sentiment sounded familiar, and asked if “our diocesan brother,” McGivney, would agree.
“As I have read and reflected upon the story of his very active life and pastoral ministry, I recognize in Father Michael McGivney’s experience as a parish priest a familiar kinship in serving this diocesan Church,” said Donnelly. He said in particular, two examples from McGivney’s life stood out as examples of how he lived out his vocation as a diocesan priest: the founding of the Knights of Columbus, and his dedication to Smith’s pastoral needs in prison.
The Knights of Columbus was founded as a fraternal and charitable organization initially to assist widows and orphans, many of whom were in McGivney’s own flock.
“Prayerful compassion was at the root of his pastoral response to organize a means of offering much needed support to such families in his parish and beyond,” said Donnelly. “With his vision, skills, energy, and prayer he led the first Knights to establish this global fraternal service order.”
McGivney visited Smith in prison for over a year, and during that time Smith returned to the practice of the Catholic faith.
“As his trial and various legal procedures continued, his conversations with Father McGivney touched something deep in both of them,” said Donnelly. “They both appear to have been profoundly affected by their time together.”
“Who of us has not had similar pastoral relationships that had similar effect on us while at the same time offering us a deeper and richer insight into the meaning of our vocation as diocesan priests,” asked Donnelly. “It strikes me that Father McGivney poured out his life for those he served.”
Fr. Gabriel O’Donnell, O.P., spoke about McGivney’s charity, noting that the priest cared for others with “unusual intensity and unstinting self-sacrifice.”
“The climactic expression of his priestly charity was the founding of the Knights of Columbus, a fraternal benevolent society entirely based on the virtue of charity,” said O’Donnell. “Charity among the members, brother to brother; charity within the Church in collaboration with the priest; finally, an unbounded charity towards all those in need, regardless of race or creed.”
O’Donnell said McGivney collaborated with lay Catholics in order to tackle the issues facing the Church at that time.
“This spirit of cooperation and a certain sense of equality between priest and layman must be considered a unique aspect of McGivney’s spirituality,” he said. “ He spoke of his fellow Knights as ‘friends’ and had an ability to treat them as such without diminishing the ‘apartness’ of his priestly consecration and identity.”
McGivney’s spirituality, said O’Donnell, was centered on “a reverence for the human person; the dignity of work; and the sacredness of marriage and family.”
Priests today can look to McGivney for an example of how to persevere through difficulty and a culture that is hostile to the Church, said O’Donnell. Now, more than ever, priests “need one another for encouragement and strength to cling to the high ideal of holiness in the midst of real life that so inspired Father McGivney.”
“As inheritors of McGivney’s wisdom we must never forget our need to collaborate with the lay faithful,” said O’Donnell. “They have much to teach us as they look to us for strong spiritual leadership.”
The third lesson of the night was unlike the others, as it featured not an excerpt from McGivney’s life on earth, but a testimony of his intercession from heaven.
Daniel Schachle, the father of Michael McGivney Schacle, discussed the miraculous intervention of McGivney in saving his unborn son in utero from a fatal condition.
When his wife Michelle found out that her 13th child not only had Down syndrome, but fetal hydrops–an uncommon, typically fatal condition where fluid builds up around the vital organs of an unborn child–she and her husband appealed to Fr. Michael McGivney for his prayers.
The unborn Schachle was given “no hope” for survival due to the combination of fetal hydrops and Down syndrome, and the Schachles were told that continuing the pregnancy could harm Michelle. Out of desperation, and what Daniel described as his “agony in the garden” moment, the Schachles decided to ask their friends to pray for the intercession of McGivney.
In the meantime, Daniel explained, the family had won a trip through the Knights of Columbus to go to Fatima. While they did not tell many people on the trip about their need for a miracle, they continued to pray for McGivney’s intercession. Michelle had a sonogram done before leaving for Europe, which showed fetal hydrops.
After returning from Europe, Michelle had another ultrasound–this time, showing no fetal hydrops. The doctor who read the ultrasound, who was not Michelle’s regular doctor, was unaware that Michelle had previously been told her unborn child had “no hope,” and outlined the medical team that would assist with the birth.
“Michelle told her we were changing the name to Michael McGivney and why,” said Daniel. “The doctor was so happy as her dad was a knight.”
After extensive medical examination, the unexplained healing of Michael was decreed a miracle that arose through the intercession of Fr. McGivney. Pope Francis gave final approval to McGivney’s first miracle in May.
Schachle said his family was “humbled by this extra grace from heaven,” and how God is now using his son’s story to bless the Church with the beatification of McGivney.
“Reverend Fathers, Our Founder is proof that one good priest can make a difference for the whole world,” said Schacle. “Thank you for being willing to follow in his footsteps. And like the lay men with whom he founded the Knights, count on my support and that of all the Knights, to continue to bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a much-loved, but broken world.”
Archbishop William Lori of Baltimore, reflecting on Schachle’s testimony, described McGivney as someone whose priestly ministry has a “surprisingly contemporary cast.”
“For that reason, we who are diocesan bishops and priests, as well as those who trying to live the Christian life and the ideals of the Knights of Columbus, can rightly claim Fr. McGivney as the parish priest of our souls,” said Lori.
“We can do so because he lived a life not unlike our own, but he also did so with extraordinary holiness, the kind of heroic virtue and holiness that lies within our reach.”
McGivney is set to be beatified on Saturday, in Hartford, and will be known as “Blessed Michael McGivney.” Beatification is the step before sainthood.
If you value the news and views Catholic World Report provides, please consider donating to support our efforts. Your contribution will help us continue to make CWR available to all readers worldwide for free, without a subscription. Thank you for your generosity!
Click here for more information on donating to CWR. Click here to sign up for our newsletter.