August 1969, I packed my meager possessions and with a heartfelt
goodbye left the University of Wisconsin--Madison. My years
in graduate school included many rewarding and memorable experiences
at the University Catholic Center, where I was active in the
liturgical reform movement inspired by the Second Vatican
Like most Catholics, I followed the
developments of Vatican II, 1962-1965, from afar reading reports
in newspapers and magazines. The council, a series of sessions
in Rome led first by Pope John XXIII and then, after his death,
by Pope Paul VI, was attended by bishops from all over the
world. Vatican II led to important documents and a spirit
of reform and renewal that swept away much of the religious
culture that I had known all my life. Changes were made in
Catholic theology, philosophy, liturgy, vestments, altars,
and music. Most importantly, the church began to timidly move
away from the hierarchical model of governance in favor of
a Vatican II-inspired concept: the People of God.
Journeying to northern Minnesota,
I began teaching at the University of Minnesota Duluth. Imbued
with the spirit of Vatican II, I was naturally drawn to Duluth's
charismatic bishop, Paul Francis Anderson, who strove to implement
the ideas and spirit of the council. My contacts with the
bishop were limited--sermons, meetings of a diocesan history
committee and a memorable day of bicycling along the famed
North Shore of Lake Superior. My interest in studying Anderson
was later sparked by the contagious enthusiasm of Monsignor
George Schroeder and exposure to some of the bishop's papers
when I was writing an historical piece on his predecessor,
Bishop Francis J. Schenk.
Bishop Anderson and his efforts to
renew the church in Duluth and beyond can best be understood
by using a new approach to the study of the American Catholic
experience. David J. O'Brien, Loyola Professor of Roman Catholic
Studies at the College of the Holy Cross, suggests that the
history of the American church be retold as a story of liberation.
"Families once poor and on the margins, exploited workers
in mines and factories, immigrants in squalid tenements, over
three or four generations moved up and moved in." He
points out that "if liberation has to do with overcoming
economic insecurity and dependence, lack of education, cultural
marginalization, and political powerlessness, then this is
a liberation story." For O'Brien, "the question
now is: 'liberation for what?' Perhaps it always was."
How does one answer O'Brien's telling
question? Perhaps the best way is to study and reflect on
the lives of American Catholics such as Paul Anderson who
have been effective witnesses to Gospel values. Bishop Anderson
offered a strong vision of what can be achieved by taking
seriously the ideas and spirit of Vatican II. He called for
a change of heart and mind leading to renewal based on the
council's vision of the church as the People of God; this
included expanded roles for women, lay ministry, personal
and spiritual growth, and a strong commitment to social justice.
Reading Anderson's papers was indeed
a privilege and I wish to thank Father Patrick J. Moran for
all his help as I examined the rich collection of newspapers,
letters, sermons, talks and personal journals housed in the
Archives of the Diocese of Duluth. Father Moran also shared
his own valuable insights into Anderson's character and contributions.
Chancellor Jerome Klein of the Diocese of Sioux Falls facilitated
my work with Sioux Falls collections.
I am grateful to the following who
formally or informally shared their memories of Bishop Anderson;
Rev. Mr. H.L. (Chico) Anderson, Father James Crossman, Donna
Effinger, Father John Whitney Evans, Sister Helen Giesen,
O.S.B., Jon Helstrom, Professor Delores Leckey, Bishop Raymond
Lucker, Sister Mary Paul Ludwig, O.S.B., Monsignor Patrick
McDowell, Monsignor John McEneaney, P.A., Sister Mary Charles
McGough, O.S.B., Monsignor Bernard Popesh, Father Richard
Rice, S.J., Mrs. Robert J. Rich, Archbishop John R. Roach,
Monsignor Gregory Schaeffer, Father James W. Scheuer, and
Monsignor George Schroeder.
Sisters Giesen and Ludwig also shared
their recordings of Bishop Anderson's talks. In addition to
providing invaluable information, the tapes enabled me to
once again listen to the bishop's ideas and stories in his
own voice. Sister Mary Charles has a rich collection of the
bishop's paintings. Through her efforts, his artistic contributions
have been preserved.
Bishop Anderson believed to the very
core of his being that the church was the People of God. He
strove with all his energy to foster a change of heart and
mind leading to a renewed church, a powerful witness to the
risen Lord. It is my hope that this reflection on his life
and ministry will contribute to keeping alive his message
of love and hope.
MAKING OF A BISHOP
are but the clothes and buttons of the man--the biography
of the man himself cannot be written." Mark Twain's astute
comment is especially applicable to Paul Francis Anderson,
the fifth bishop of Duluth. It is not enough to study the
climatic highlights of his career. To really know the man
and appreciate his impact on people and their lives, one must
see him in the small moments of his life relating to people.
This can not be done. Still, if Anderson's legacy and contributions
are to be preserved, if we are to document the history of
the post-Vatican II era, then it is necessary to study the
man and his career.
To understand Anderson's life and
career, we must journey back to his Massachusetts boyhood
and his early years as an assistant pastor and hospital chaplain.
Paul Francis Anderson was born in West Roxbury, a division
of the City of Boston, on April 20, 1917. He was the second
son of Mary Elizabeth and Philip Anderson both children of
Never prosperous, the family was at
times in dire straits. Paul's father lost his job in the famous
1919 Boston police strike, crushed by Governor Calvin Coolidge
the future President. Showing his faith in God, Philip Anderson
dropped his last dime in the collection plate at mass. Sixty
years later, reflecting on those trying days, Bishop Anderson
remembered that his father literally did not have a dime to
his name, but the family survived thanks to friends and the
grace of God.
The stock market crash in 1929 and
the Great Depression which followed was an especially difficult
time for the Andersons, since Philip, like so many fathers,
was out of work. The family, which at times lacked ample food,
scraped by with everyone doing odd jobs. Finally, Phillip
found steady work as a motorman on the Boston Elevated Railway.
The future bishop never forgot his boyhood experience with
poverty and it left him with a profound sense of compassion
and an abiding concern for the poor and disadvantaged.
Despite hardships, Paul's boyhood
years were happy and he shared precious memories with friends
for the rest of his life. He fondly recalled making toys from
odds and ends found at home or in the city dump--bows, arrows,
slingshots, swords, shields, kites, model boats, planes, and
other things that filled his heart with delight. Sports equipment
included skis made from barrel staves and footballs made from
stocking caps filled with rags.
Memories of his parents filled his
heart and animated his life as he recalled his tall, busy
mother with her smiling face, and his father who taught him
to take advantage of every day urging him to try things: "You
can do it!" From his family he learned two cardinal virtues:
hard work and generosity. For Paul Anderson, family was central.
His life-long effort to form Christian communities wherever
he went stemmed in part from boyhood memories of his family.
Paul cared about people. Working for
a number of grocery stores--pushing a cart and helping customers
in the store--he got to know most of the people in his neighborhood.
This personable young man was offered a managers position
as soon as he finished school, but another calling was beginning
to stir, a vocation that would combine his strong interest
in people with his growing religious faith.
Raised in an old fashion Irish Catholic
family by devout parents, Paul experienced the first stirrings
of a call to the priesthood in the 1930s. Vivid images of
services at St. John's in Winthrop remained all his life:
candles glowing on the altar, Marian hymns and prayers, homilies,
the smell of incense, Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament,
and weekly novenas to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal. Taking
an active part in those services as an altar boy made a lasting
impression. Another precious memory from altar boy days was
of a very special Christmas when a man celebrated his first
Christmas as a priest. Anderson never forgot that Christmas
and the priest became a model that helped lead him to the
After graduating from Winthrop High
School in 1935, Anderson attended Boston College, a Jesuit
institution in Chestnut Hill. Then, despite doubts and fears,
he decided to follow his dream of becoming a priest; he transferred
to the seminary of the Archdiocese of Boston, St. John's in
Brighton. With this important, life-changing decision made,
he planned to catch a streetcar and tell his grandmother the
good news. His mother urged him to refuse the money that his
grandmother was sure to offer. She reminded her son that his
grandmother was poor and took in laundry and scrubbed floors
just to make ends meet. He set out determined to heed his
mother's advice and when he arrived he refused to accept any
money, but his grandmother persisted until he finally took
the envelope assuming that it contained $5 or $10. Imagine
his shock when he opened the envelope and found $1000, a large
sum in those days. Though poor, she long believed that her
grandson would study for the priesthood and was determined
to help. The money, eked out of her meager income, was of
Anderson completed his studies in
an accelerated year-round program, designed to meet the shortage
of priests during the Second World War. He was ordained on
January 6, 1943 by Auxiliary Bishop Richard Cushing , the
future cardinal who continued to play an important role in
the young priest's life.
After celebrating his first mass in
his hometown of Winthrop, Anderson returned to the two-floor
house, his family had long called home. He greeted family
and friends and bestowed his first priestly blessings. A most
touching incident occurred in the middle of the afternoon
when an elderly Jewish neighbor, a friend of the family, hobbled
up the front steps to congratulate the new priest saying "it
is so nice that you are a priest. Someday my son Reeven will
be a rabbi and he can come and preach in your church and you
can come and preach in the temple." Anderson never forgot
her powerful words and the day would come when as Bishop of
Duluth he would have the opportunity to preach in a temple,
condemn anti-Semitism and apologize for any Christian actions
that contributed to the Holocaust, the mass murder of Jews
during World War II.
Father Anderson's first assignment
was at Our Lady, Comforter of the Afflicted in Waltham, Massachusetts,
a parish that ministered to three hospitals as well as serving
a congregation. This assignment, which tested his mettle,
exposed him to the pain and agony of mental illness, old age
and death. The newly ordained priest, who felt inadequate
in the face of his challenging ministry, found the mental
hospital most difficult as he witnessed the horrifying sight
of patients locked in rooms and restrained in straitjackets.
Some patients were old and infirm, not mentally ill, but since
they had no other place to go they were left to languish in
the mental hospital. Anderson developed a lifelong concern
for the mentally ill and elderly and years later as a bishop
made it a point to visit mental institutions and nursing homes.
His ministry brought him face to face
with death. The young priest witnessed the anguish of families
who mourned the death of a loved one or even more heart-rending
the sight of those facing the agony and fear of death alone
without the comfort of family and friends. Experiences with
mentally ill and dying patients left an indelible mark--a
sense of compassion early in his priestly career. Moreover,
his experiences in the hospitals left him with the firm conviction
that Catholics needed to focus on the essence of the Christian
message and cultivate a life of prayer so that they could
deal with the vicissitudes of life. Later, serving as a bishop
in the midst of the rapid changes following the Second Vatican
Council, Anderson insisted that as valuable and healthy as
the ferment was Catholics must not lose sight of the essence
of the Christian faith--the life and message of Jesus. Catholics
needed to pray!
Anderson's life and priestly career
took an unexpected turn when he and some of his seminary classmates
accepted an invitation to serve for eighteen months in the
Diocese of Sioux Falls. How did five Massachusetts priests
end up in South Dakota? With the end of World War II and the
return of military chaplains, Richard Cushing, now Archbishop
of Boston found that he had a surplus of priests. Cushing
informed the nation's bishops at a 1946 meeting that he would
share some of his priests with any diocese that needed them.
Cushing's plan, dubbed "Lend-lease" after the famed
World War II program, allowed priests to serve, in what the
archbishop referred to as the "missionary outpost of
our own country." After eighteen months, the priests
could elect to return to Boston or stay in the new diocese.
Bishop William O. Brady of Sioux Falls,
the future Archbishop of St. Paul, quickly took advantage
of Cushing's offer. When the possibility of serving in South
Dakota was broached, Anderson, conjuring up visions of dust
storms and grasshoppers, was decidedly negative, but his love
of adventure and his desire to see a different part of the
country changed his mind. Anderson and four of his seminary
classmates, John J. McEneaney, John D. Hausman, Leonard Stanton,
and James L. Sullivan, decided to serve in South Dakota. Cushing,
taking an active interest in the five, invited them to his
home for dinner the night before they left and wrote letters
of encouragement as they adjusted to life on the prairie.
Leaving behind the hills and ocean
beaches of his native state, Anderson found it difficult to
adjust to the wide-open spaces and incessant wind of South
Dakota. He also missed his family. When the eighteen-month
assignment was coming to an end, Anderson and his classmates
decided to go home, but Bishop Brady, telling them he would
have to close parishes, pleaded with them to seek an extension.
Ultimately, Anderson remained in South Dakota until he became
a bishop two decades later. Two of his classmates remained
as well. McEneaney became vicar general of the Diocese of
Sioux Falls and was named a protonotary apostolic with the
title monsignor. Stanton served numerous parishes, became
chaplain to the Boy Scouts of the diocese, and in 1966 was
appointed national chairman of the Scout's Altare Dei Award
Anderson, after serving as an assistant
pastor in three parishes, became administrator of St. Catherine's
Church in Oldham in 1947 and worked hard to rejuvenate the
43-year-old frame structure. His efforts went up in smoke.
On May 7, 1954 he was awakened early in the morning by a telephone
call telling him that the church was on fire. "By the
time he ran from the rectory to the burning building, the
heat was so intense that he was unable to enter by either
the front or back doors. In a matter of minutes flames burst
through the roof and the tower collapsed, carrying with it
the 1,200-pound bell which had been installed less than a
year before." The story has a happy ending. Thanks to
the prayers and financial sacrifices of the parishioners,
Father Anderson was able to build a handsome brick church
that was blessed and dedicated by Bishop Brady on June 18,
Reflecting back on his years in Oldham,
where he served from 1947 to 1959, he realized how close he
had become to the people and how much "practical and
psychological support" they gave him. His attachment
to the people of South Dakota increased while he was pastor
of St. Patrick's Church in Montrose from 1959 to 1962. Once
again, the approachable priest shared meals, conversations,
laughter, and precious memories becoming part of many families.
Father Anderson of Sioux Falls just like Father Anderson of
Boston was people-oriented and family-oriented.
In 1962 Anderson was named pastor of St. Mary's Church in
Salem. It was during this memorable assignment that he developed
many of his ideas about the People of God, Christian community
and layministry. Seven couples joined him in dealing with
the problems that plagued the town. Thirteen years later,
Anderson, now a bishop described the situation in Salem: "Catholics
were severely divided from Protestants. Public school and
parochial school had little in common and what they did have
they never discussed. Rural Electrification Association (REA)
and Northern Power (NSP) were fighting in the courts. National
Farmers Organization (NFO) and their opponents clashed in
episodes that left barns painted yellow in the middle of the
night and tires slashed on vehicles carrying cattle to market."
Anderson and the couples "observed,
judged and acted." Divisions were healed! "When
Pope John XXIII died, the Protestant churches in town tolled
their bells of requiem.... I saw the time come when the superintendent
of the public school met with the head of the Catholic school
each week at the rectory.... And who do you think installed
the new fire detection system in St. Mary's school? Employees
of the REA and NSP, working side by side, joking and laughing
far into the night. The struggles of the family farm still
continue, but Sr. Thomas More called together the heads of
farm organizations and got them talking of an American Federation
of Agriculture. And so it went. Conversion, reconciliation,
peace and community were born through the dedicated prayers
and efforts of a handful of people." His experience in
Salem, convinced Anderson that the People of God joined together
in small communities could effectively implement Gospel values.
In Salem Anderson actively participated
in the Christian Family Movement and gained first-hand experience
with lay action. Historian Jay P. Dolan explains that the
Christian Family Movement, born in Chicago, "grew out
of a unique Catholic Action movement that captured the imagination
of many young people in the 1930s and 1940s. Developed by
a Belgian priest, Joseph Cardijn, it...stressed the reform
of society through the formula of 'observe, judge and act.'"
Dolan notes that the CFM movement "was militantly lay-oriented.
Priests had an advisory role, but lay people controlled the
Sally Cunneen, founding co-editor
of CROSS CURRENTS and widely published in the field of women's
religious experience, adds that CFM included women as equals.
It "took steps that would eventually help to shatter
the vague idealization of women which had marked their exclusion
from leadership positions in the Church. Men and women met
together, breaking the earlier custom of most church groups
to assemble separately by gender." She notes that "the
committed priests who became CFM chaplains saw a mission in
the world for Catholic lay people just as the married couples
did. And for women in particular, the CFM provided an education
in critical thinking and action as part of the Church."
Historian Jeffrey M. Burns stresses
that CFM was a harbinger of Vatican II since its stress on
the Mystical Body of Christ and its understanding of the theological
implications of this concept led to the popularization of
a new model of the church. Laymen and women were told that
they were the church! Burns notes that CFM clearly anticipated
Vatican II's concept of the People of God. It is no surprise
that Father Anderson was ready for Vatican II.
CFM's idea that laymen and women were
responsible for one another led naturally to layministry.
Anderson's involvement in the movement helped shape his conviction
that laymen and women were gifted and called to ministry.
Later, as a bishop and member of an important committee on
the laity, his views were decisive in the use of the term
"ministry" to describe certain lay actions.
The popularization of the Mystical
Body concept may also have shaped Anderson's thoughts on individualism,
social justice and community. As Burns explains "the
concept of the Mystical Body undercut the individualism of
modern American society, undercut selfish concerns about one's
own success and one's own family. CFM taught that salvation
was not simply an individual matter between God and the person.
Salvation was communal. The person's purpose in life--to know,
love, and serve God--could be worked out only within the context
of the human community."
Father Anderson became pastor of St.
Martin's Church, Huron in 1965 and in this, his last assignment
before being named to the episcopacy, he instituted programs
that foreshadowed some of his best known ideas as Bishop of
Duluth. To surface the ideas and views of parishioners he
conducted a survey followed by small discussion groups. This
grassroots approach reflected his People of God view of the
church. In Anderson's eyes, the people were the church and
a pastor, valuing their opinions, should lead and not dominate.
This approach stood in sharp contrast to the prevalent model
of the church as a triangle with the pope on top, followed
by cardinals, archbishops, bishops, and priests with the laity
assigned to a lesser, more passive role. Later as Bishop of
Duluth, he instituted a rather elaborate plan to discern the
ideas and goals of all the People of God.
As pastor of St. Martin's, Anderson
eliminated fund-raising gimmicks such as bazaars and raffles
instituting a "Fair Share" plan. The plan encouraged
parishioners to become tithers giving 5 percent of their income
to the parish church and 5 percent to charity. This plan raised
St. Martin's income from $800.00 to $3,000.00 a week in three
years. His skill at fund-raising was perhaps decisive in his
promotion to the office of bishop and his assignment to the
financially troubled Diocese of Duluth. Moreover, his long
tenure as editor of THE BISHOP'S BULLETIN (1950-1963) provided
an opportunity for Bishop Lambert A. Hock and the chancery
staff to know and appreciate his talents.
Not only was Anderson not seeking
the office of bishop, he was shocked--indeed thrown into turmoil--when
the letter offering the promotion arrived. On vacation in
the Boston area, he prayed constantly walking around the city,
sitting on the commons, and in a Paulist chapel, but often
the only prayer he could muster was "God help me."
He was painfully aware that it was a difficult time to be
a bishop and felt unsuited to the office since he did not
want the authority and pomp that usually accompanied the promotion.
He wanted to live simply rather than in a mansion.
A candidate for the episcopacy, while
he is considering whether or not to accept, can only share
the news of the promotion with his confessor. Anderson was
especially blessed since he was on vacation with his seminary
classmate and best friend John J. McEneaney who told him:
"You can do it!" Anderson, who felt that McEneaney
should have been named a bishop instead of him, later realized
that his friend was the vehicle that God used to convince
him to accept the appointment. Finally, he went to a Western
Union office and sent a coded telegram of acceptance to the
pope's official representative in the United States, Archbishop
(later Cardinal) Luigi Raimondi, Apostolic Delegate (1967-1973).
When Anderson met with Raimondi, the
archbishop asked how he felt about the appointment. The bishop
to be, realizing that he held no graduate degrees and had
no chancery experience pointed out that he had only been a
pastor. Raimondi had the perfect answer: "Well what do
you think you're going to be now?"
On July 17, 1968 Paul Francis Anderson
was named a coadjutor bishop with the right of succession
to the ailing Bishop of Duluth, Francis J. Schenk. Paul VI
had assigned Anderson to a far-flung diocese, established
in 1889, which included the following counties in northeastern
Minnesota: Aitkin, Carlton, Cass, Cook, Crow Wing, Itasca,
Lake, Pine, Koochiching, and St. Louis. The Diocese of Duluth
served almost 109,000 Catholics and maintained 90 parishes
and 35 mission churches.
At Anderson's ordination, held on
October 17, 1968 in the Huron Arena, a stirring homily was
delivered by Cardinal Cushing of Boston, the man who had played
such a pivotal role in Anderson's life and career. In "thundering
tones" and in words Anderson would never forget, the
cardinal spoke about the role of a bishop and the needs of
the time. Cushing declared that "a bishop should know
how to listen. One of the most profitable ways of learning
is to listen, and when we cease listening we most often stop
learning. When we stop learning, we really stop living."
He then applied this maxim to Anderson's new office arguing
that a bishop needed to know the thoughts, attitudes and fears
of the people he served. "Sometimes bishops in our country
are described as administrators, and truth to tell, a diocese--especially
a large one--demands a great deal of administration. For all
of that, the wise bishop, in my judgment, is out of his office
more than he is in it. And he should not be out preaching
all the time." A bishop should spend some of his time
listening. "Not everything he hears will be helpful and
not everything will be pleasant to hear. But, in most cases,
he will come home wiser than he went out." With those
words of wisdom in mind, Paul Francis Anderson journeyed to
Duluth to begin his new challenging ministry as a bishop in
the post-Vatican II church.
in Duluth in late October 1968, Anderson was struck by the
oceanlike beauty of Lake Superior and the steep, wooded hills.
The scene, so different from the prairies of South Dakota,
evoked powerful memories of the ocean and hills of his native
New England. "It was almost like being home again."
An avid outdoorsman, he drew strength and inspiration from
nature and he soon came to love the natural beauty of the
area he now called home. As Monsignor McEneaney so eloquently
put it, Anderson "reveled in the beauty of creation.
How he loved the lakes, the woods and hills of Northern Minnesota!
Unique among all episcopal vehicles in the United States was
his automobile, with canoe on top, bicycle on the back, and
camper in tow."
Meeting Paul Anderson was an experience
never to be forgotten. The 51-year-old six footer with black
hair and striking eyes--eyes alive with warmth and compassion--related
to people more as a person than as a bishop. Anderson believed
that an authentic minister of the Gospel did not allow his
office or professional expertise to stand in the way of Christlike
service. Father Stanton, a long-time friend, described the
bishop's great gift: he made every person feel special, he
made every person feel he or she was his "particular,
very special friend."
Interested in people since his youth,
the new bishop loved gatherings. He continued the open house
at Christmas started by Bishop Schenk enlisting all available
help, staff and friends, to decorate the house and prepare
for guests, some of whom had no place to go for the holidays.
Anderson greeted his 30 or 40 guests at the door, personally
cooked dinner and prepared elaborate desserts. Lively conversation
and the singing of carols created the family atmosphere that
Some of Anderson's happiest moments
were spent with families--camping, hiking, biking, swimming,
and visiting. Always sensitive to children, he was a grandfriend
to many. Families treasure warm memories of hours spend with
this remarkable man who, like a ray of sunshine, brightened
their lives and served as a reflection of God's love.
Anderson's love of people and community
also explains his joy at the annual Ojibwa celebration held
over the Memorial Day weekend. Community was fostered with
mass, visiting and feasting. At this all-day event, the bishop,
who had been close to the Sioux when he served in South Dakota,
came decked out in his Sioux headdress and enthusiastically
joined the celebration visiting with Ojibwa friends.
Those lucky enough to spend time with
the charismatic bishop soon discovered that he was bright
and well read keeping abreast of the latest developments in
theology, biblical studies, ministry, and spiritual direction.
Despite his obvious intelligence, Paul Anderson was haunted
by self-doubt about his intellectual ability; he harbored
painful memories of being called stupid and of his struggle
to pass Latin.
Though conversant with the latest
ideas, the bishop never forgot that he lacked advanced degrees.
His expertise was being a parish priest and most of his ideas
were based on lived experience and common sense. Paul Anderson
was an introspective and highly sensitive person, with an
acute awareness of the human dimension--people's needs and
concerns. Inclined to be supportive and nonjudgmental, he
had difficulty with the disciplinary aspects of his office.
On the other hand, his ability to empathize and provide emotional
support was ideal for the pastoral side of his episcopal role.
First and foremost, Anderson was a
pastor and he took to heart Cushing's advice that a bishop
should be out of his office more than he was in it--indeed
it came naturally for him since he never cared for administrative
tasks or paper work. He would gladly stop whatever he was
doing to greet visitors and give them his undivided attention.
Most of his time was devoted to counseling, advising and above
all encouraging. He was so interested in people that it was
difficult for him to focus on essential matters of administration.
Anderson was committed to the ideas
of Vatican II and worked to implement them with every ounce
of his energy and strength. He realized that education was
needed to prepare Catholics for new forms of religious life.
The liturgy had been a central symbol of the unchanging nature
of the church. As reforms were implemented from 1964 to 1970,
the language of the mass was changed from Latin to English,
altars were simplified to look more like tables, and arranged
so that priests faced the people. Laymen and women were more
actively involved in the liturgy as lectors and Eucharistic
ministers. Architecture changed as Catholics built modern
rather than medieval looking churches. Meatless Fridays, an
important symbol of Catholic identity, eventually disappeared.
Confessions became far less frequent. As theologian Patrick
W. Carey explains, "these mutations were not matters
of small consequence, because they touched the lives of many
Catholics who had been accustomed to thinking about their
religious life and their own religious identity in terms of
these...practices and customs."
The reform of church governance, with
a timid move away from monarchical authority, was another
important result of the council. This trend was very near
to Anderson's heart and he enthusiastically supported the
establishment of pastoral councils: parish, regional and diocesan.
Anderson's leadership was rooted in
his deep conviction that Vatican II renewal must not be limited
to external things such as liturgy and governance; it needed
to reach much deeper changing hearts and minds. He stressed
education. The bishop took pains to explain current practices
and the reasons for them. Committed to the Vatican II vision
of the church, Anderson tried to foster a new attitude toward
the diocesan church arguing that it was the entire People
of God and not just the bishop, the chancery and the priests.
Renewal required a new attitude. The people needed to accept
freedom and responsibility if the church was to move away
from decisions made by the bishop alone to decisions made
by the consensus of many.
Anderson took on more responsibilities
as the ordinary of the diocese, Francis J. Schenk, suffering
from an inoperable malignant brain tumor, became less and
less able to administer the diocese. On May 1, 1969 Anderson
became Bishop of Duluth. Believing that ordinaries were not
effective for long periods of time, he decided that his tenure
in Duluth would be limited. After a period of time, Anderson
hoped to turn the position over to a younger man, better suited
to carry the heavy burdens, while he moved to a new ministry.
Among the burdens of his office were
the sharp and bitter disputes over the meaning of Vatican
II. Anderson was nettled by complaints from conservatives
who argued that the church was in danger of losing its way
and that heresy was rampant. Some, influenced by a conservative
organization, Catholics United for the Faith (CUF), accepted
Vatican II's documents, but opposed liberal interpretations.
They were strongly opposed to unauthorized liturgical experiments,
to what they perceived as Modernism (condemned by Pope St.
Pius X in 1907), to the ideas advanced by certain theologians
and biblical scholars, and to the weakened authority of the
magisterium, the teaching authority of the pope and bishops.
At an October 1974 CUF-sponsored talk, Father Daniel Lyons,
S.J. told his Iron Range audience that the church was threatened
by the ideas of Modernist theologians such as Father Hans
Kung, University of Tubingen in Germany and Father Richard
McBrien, University of Notre Dame in the United States. Conservatives
expected Anderson to end what they regarded as unauthorized
In contrast, some liberals argued
that he was too attached to the clerical system. Caught in
the crossfire, Anderson suffered sleepless nights and finally
concluded that the vehement debate was diverting attention
from the real issue: people in need. Who would feed the hungry?
Who would care for the ill?
In the face of pessimism, the bishop
was determined to be a messenger of hope: "My mission
seems to be to supply the encouragement and the hope that
is so lacking in many of God's people. This I try to do despite
the whirlwinds of pessimism that blow all around us."
He warned that it was unrealistic to expect a return to the
"apparent serenity" of the pre-conciliar era since
the world was experiencing broad cultural change that was
impacting the church. Convinced that Catholicism would eventually
emerge renewed and revitalized, Anderson looked forward to
a bright future. In the meantime, he urged Catholics to deal
with the turmoil by remembering the core of the Christian
faith. This would restore hope!
In the March 1972 issue of the diocesan
newspaper, OUTLOOK, the bishop devoted his column to death
and resurrection and the need to focus on the core of the
church's message. Recalling many of his own personal experiences
with death, including his traumatic first assignment when
he served patients in three Massachusetts hospitals, Anderson
reminded his readers that a Catholic should never lose sight
of the root meaning of life, death and resurrection. He warned:
"Of late we have been so preoccupied with problems of
liturgical change, the authority crisis, ecumenism, celibacy,
vocations, community, relevancy, infallibility and sundry
other problems that affect the contemporary Church, that some
of the more fundamental issues seem to be passed over or even
totally neglected.... Certainly the present ferment and seeming
turmoil in the Church is necessary and healthy, for it is
a sign of life. But it is also necessary to put it all in
proper focus and understand that the heart of the Gospel message
centers around the person of Jesus."
His ministry of hope proved to be
most difficult in a cynical era haunted by questions raised
by the Cold War, nuclear weapons, and the war in Vietnam.
His mission was especially difficult since many Catholics,
both conservatives and liberals, thought the church had lost
its way and was not providing the moral leadership they expected--indeed
demanded. The bishop soon discovered how difficult and exhausting
it was to spread hope. Moreover, while supporting others,
he, like every Christian, had to live with his own weaknesses
The bishop also brought hope by ending
the financial problems that "hovered like a dark cloud
over the entire diocese." The financial plight was discussed
at a series of meetings by a small group of priests and laypeople
and a new system was born: United Catholic Appeal (UCA). This
system, based on the plan Anderson had pioneered in South
Dakota, replaced the old method of fund-raising--parish assessments
and special collections. The new approach was centered on
the People of God vision of the church. Anderson opposed bazaars,
bingo, raffles, games, prizes, and other fund-raising gimmicks
that obscured Gospel values. He was in the business of selling
religion not raffle tickets. As a man of faith, the bishop
wanted Catholics to realize that they were the church, the
People of God, and that they had a responsibility to learn
about poverty--local, national and global--and to render Christian
service. If the Gospel was as important as Catholics claimed,
it should stand on its own merit and the people of the diocese
should develop a Christian attitude toward material goods.
UCA worked! In January 1972, the bishop
happily reported that UCA had enabled "the diocese to
turn a financial corner." Most importantly, UCA publicity,
stressing poverty and the need for Christian service, was
an effective educational tool. A questionnaire mailed to all
the parishes showed that Catholics had become more aware of
local, national and global needs and often developed a stronger
sense of belonging to their parishes. In short, UCA had led
to a change of heart and mind.
The bishop thought that Catholics,
as the People of God, had a right to know how their money
was being spent. Financial reports were published in OUTLOOK
and people were invited to examine the books. The clear explanations
of the Christian reasons for sharing coupled with openness
about how diocesan money was being spent led to successful
UCA campaigns and eased the financial burden. Over the course
of time, parish quotas and special collections returned, but
the original idea of using the campaign to educate Catholics
must never be forgotten. The bishop's astute observation that
Catholics needed to develop a Christian attitude toward material
goods stands as a challenge to this day.
UCA did not end all the problems.
Cathedral High School, which experienced one financial crisis
after another, was a serious drain on the resources of the
diocese. Despite the problems, the bishop was determined,
to keep the school open since he believed that an alternative
form of education was needed. To save the school and its religious
values, he enthusiastically endorsed a plan proposed by Robert
J. Rich, a 1936 Cathedral graduate. Cathedral changed from
a Catholic to an ecumenical institution based on the Judeo-Christian
tradition. It began its first full year as an ecumenical school
in the fall of 1972. Once again, acting as a messenger of
hope, Anderson was instrumental in saving an important institution,
now known as the Marshall School, that is still serving the
greater Duluth-Superior area. It was but another example of
his commitment to a change of heart and mind in accordance
with the People of God vision; he listened to laypeople and
was willing to share his power with them.
Bishop Anderson, like many Catholics,
was deeply troubled by a decreasing number of priests and
nuns. The national trend was evident in the Diocese of Duluth
which had "146 priests in 1970, 143 in 1975 and 138 in
1979." The number of religious sisters "dropped
from 397 to 367 in 1975 and 346 in 1979." Anderson was
painfully aware that the average age of priests was rising
and the number of students preparing for ordination was steadily
decreasing. Closing parishes, because of a lack of priests,
took away an important part of peoples' lives--the sacred
places of first communions, marriages and funerals, significant
markers of personal and family history. What consolation could
the bishop offer? The best he could do was to assure people
that their old parish would live on in their memories. The
bishop's effort to console recalls the sentiments expressed
by Rick (Humphrey Bogart) in the movie CASABLANCA. To comfort
Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) and himself as they parted, presumably
forever, Rick pointed out that they would always have their
beautiful memories of their romance in Paris. Though memories
are important, they are not a complete answer and Anderson,
messenger of hope though he was, could not make the pain disappear.
His hope for the future centered on lay ministry.
Despite his profound sorrow at the
loss of so many talented men from the active priesthood, Anderson
remained a true friend to those who left. He responded to
their departure on a deep personal level. When James P. Shannon,
an Auxiliary Bishop of St. Paul, resigned and married, Anderson
expressed what was in his heart: "I suppose I am one
of the countless many that is making a real effort to adjust
my thinking and my feelings to your new life style. Somehow
or other your picture in the NCR [NATIONAL CATHOLIC REPORTER],
attired as you were in jacket and tie and standing beside
your new wife, left me with mixed emotions. I didn't know
whether to laugh or cry. I guess I just felt that things shouldn't
be this way."
Anderson was quick to apologize for
not offering the emotional support that Shannon needed: "At
the moment I feel sad to be numbered among the many around
you who made little effort to offer you the sympathy, understanding
and love that you most sorely needed during these past trying
months. For this I ask your pardon. All that I can offer you
now is my daily prayers that God's grace will guide you in
the fulfillment of His holy will." Anderson and Shannon
continued to correspond. Shannon, in his autobiography, RELUCTANT
DISSENTER (1998), wrote: "Paul Anderson...was the kind
of bishop Jesus Christ had in mind when he put together the
Even closer to home, when Francis
X. Shea, president of a Catholic College in Duluth, St. Scholastica,
left the active priesthood, Anderson visited Shea's parents
to ease their pain and help in the healing process. In January
1975, the bishop scolded TIME magazine for branding Shea,
then chancellor of Antioch College an "apostate."
This "was more than a misuse of language, it was an attack
on one of man's most cherished possessions his reputation."
Shea was still a Catholic and had left the Jesuits in accordance
with canonical procedures. The bishop was quick to add that
Shea had served St. Scholastica and the Duluth community well.
Bishop Anderson also provided hope
for those who believed that laymen and women should be involved
in the decisions that impacted their religious lives. To form
the People of God, the bishop had to nudge many pastors and
parishioners to form parish councils, an action urged by his
predecessor Bishop Schenk. Anderson faced a dilemma: if he
used his authority to force parishes to establish councils
he would be returning to the authoritarian ways of the past,
but if he did nothing, he would not be able to implement his
vision. His answer was education.
In 1976 Father William Rademacher,
a professor at St. John's Seminary in Plymouth, Michigan,
offered workshops in the diocese. Father Rademacher, like
Bishop Anderson, viewed parish councils as communities. Councils,
he argued, should do more than deal with parish finances;
they should foster prayer and play an active role in peace
and justice issues. Education was the only viable approach
for the bishop, but it was a slow way to implement his vision.
In addition to parish councils, five
regional pastoral councils were formed: Brainerd-Case Lake,
Hibbing-Grand Rapids, Virginia-Border Area, Cloquet-Pine City,
and Duluth-North Shore. His next step was to establish a diocesan
pastoral council to coordinate social, economic and educational
The bishop had reason to be pleased
since the diocese was moving in the direction that he advocated,
but as he himself realized there was a problem. In December
1972, writing to Monsignor William Granville, a Massachusetts
friend, Anderson confided, "we are right in the middle
of setting up a Diocesan Pastoral Council and meetings seem
to be proliferating all over the place. Sooner or later, we
will have to get rid of some of our organizations and limit
the number of meetings that we can attend. Whether we do so
or not voluntarily, I think it will happen." Anderson's
concern was telling, especially in light of the large geographic
spread of the diocese, harsh winters and poor driving conditions.
How many meetings could people fit into their busy lives?
There was an even larger question that the bishop never asked.
How long would the rather elaborate structure of councils--parish,
regional and diocesan--last without his charismatic personality
to draw people to meetings?
The bishop had managed to lead the
diocese in the direction of shared responsibility. He now
came up with a bold plan--so bold that it sparked a steady
stream of criticism. To foster renewal, Anderson planned a
large Easter celebration for all the parishes in the City
of Duluth. His plan flowed from who he was. It reflected his
love of large celebrations, his sense of adventure, but above
all his desire for the physical presence of the People of
On Easter morning 1972, 8,000 men,
women and children packed the Duluth Entertainment Convention
Center. The service, drawing people together from diverse
areas and economic groups, allowed them to see the city's
priests join their bishop in a moving liturgy. The Easter
celebration, one of the highlights of Anderson's years in
Duluth, did not just happen--it was the result of careful
planning, spiritual programs, talks by teams of religious
sisters, and pastoral visits to all the parishes by the bishop
Deeply touched by the enthusiastic
response--people moved to tears during the celebration and
happy faces in the parking lot--Anderson described it as "simply
fantastic." The bishop rejoiced that people were still
filled with enthusiasm weeks later and was pleased with national
coverage in publications such as WORSHIP, LITURGY MAGAZINE,
LIVING WORSHIP, and the NATIONAL CATHOLIC REPORTER. A major
high point in his life, the celebration gave him an experience
of the Risen Lord. The bishop, a messenger of hope to others,
now felt JOY in his own heart. The seeds were planted that
would lead him to the charismatic movement.
Social Justice and Diocesan Governance
Believing that prayer was at the very
heart of renewal, Anderson wrote that an important part of
Catholic reform began with the all-city Easter celebration.
In a January 1975 interview, published in NEW COVENANT, he
stressed that Catholics had become caught up with external
things such as changing the liturgy, with different formats,
altars and language, yet there was "still a depression
in the hearts of people, a sadness that pervades the church."
Spiritual conversion was needed! Amplifying this theme in
a letter, he explained that the reform that the Vatican II
popes, John XXIII and Paul VI, had "prayed and longed
for was a reform and a renewal of man's spirits not really
of external structures." Once again, Anderson was calling
for a change of hearts and minds, through prayer and a new
Knowing that many devotions had disappeared
in the post-Vatican II church, Anderson feared there was a
vacuum in many hearts and was pleased that charismatic prayer
was helping to fill the void. As Patrick Carey explains, the
Catholic charismatic movement, calling attention to gifts
of the Holy Spirit such as speaking in tongues and healing,
was "one of the most dramatic, ecumenical, long-lasting,
and widespread movements of the post-conciliar period."
In an effort to foster spiritual growth,
an essential ingredient of renewal, Anderson actively participated
in charismatic services. Though enthusiastic about the movement,
he was aware of the danger of elitism. "In some few instances
I have meet people who were quite distressed that everyone
did not agree with them and immediately rush out to join a
charismatic prayer group." The bishop was also concerned
about the tendency of some to adopt a fundamentalist view
of scripture. Because of this, Anderson encouraged priests
"to continue their studies in sacred scripture and spirituality
and give sound direction."
Anderson's desire to foster prayer
and community led to an important decision in regard to his
mansion residence. Residing in a splendid house did not fit
his simple lifestyle and weakened his message of social justice.
He seriously considered moving to the rectory on Minnesota
Point, a beautiful strip of land that juts into Lake Superior,
where he could live simply in touch with nature. After more
reflection, he decided that the mansion could serve the diocese
as a house of prayer where support groups could form and flourish.
Deeply concerned about resignations from the active priesthood,
the bishop invited groups of priests to the house for prayer
and discussion, a powerful antidote against the isolation
that was all too common in the far-flung diocese.
St. Francis House, named for Anderson's
patron saint, became a Mecca for priests, sisters and laypersons
looking for a place to pray and think. Many came to the house
to experience the bishop's warm personality and deep spirituality.
It should be noted that Anderson, in his effort to help others,
had created a community that encouraged his own emotional,
spiritual and intellectual growth. Many of the bishop's ideas
developed in the context of this community formed by mass,
prayer and discussion. Father Stanton, a classmate and friend,
observed that St. Francis House was the "dynamic heart
of the Diocese of Duluth."
Anderson believed that if priests
grew spiritually their parishioners would soon follow. He
therefore embarked on a three-year program for priests under
the direction of a Trappist monk, Vincent Dwyer, associated
with St. Mary's College in Winona, Minnesota.
Father Dwyer, like Bishop Anderson,
was concerned that Vatican II renewal was focusing almost
exclusively on structures and other external matters while
ignoring spiritual growth and the message of Jesus. To help
priests develop positive self-images, Dwyer added the methods
of the behavioral sciences to classic forms of spirituality.
He encouraged priests to join support groups. Bishop Anderson,
pleased with the results, thought that Dwyer's program had
sparked a spiritual revolution in the diocese creating a strong
foundation for other initiatives such as the United Catholic
Appeal, the Priests' Senate and the Diocesan Pastoral Council.
Vatican II renewal also required a
change of heart and mind in regard to ecumenism. In describing
Pope John's efforts to improve Catholic-Jewish relations,
historian Egal Feldman starts with John's pre-papal career
as a Vatican diplomat during World War II. As Angelo Cardinal
Roncalli, he had "exerted heroic efforts to prevent Jews
from being transported to death camps. While serving as papal
nuncio in Istanbul, the future pope offered baptismal certificates
to many Jews in order to prevent their deportation."
As pope, John removed offensive phrases
and passages from Catholic prayers such as "unbelieving
Jews." The innovative pope continued his efforts to improve
Catholic-Jewish relations, and at the suggestion of Jules
Isaac, a prominent Jewish historian, the pope put this issue
on the Vatican II agenda. John appointed Augustin Cardinal
Bea, S.J. (1881-1968), the retired rector of the Biblical
Institute in Rome, to head a committee that would prepare
a draft of what became known as NOSTRA AETATE NO. 4. This
important document approved by the council on October 28,
1965, was a blueprint for improving Catholic-Jewish relations.
It rejected the notion that Jews were guilty of deicide and
called for Catholic-Jewish dialogue.
In Duluth, improved relations between
Catholics and Jews were sparked by the friendship of Rabbi
Bernard Gelbart and Bishop Paul Anderson. When Gelbart, a
teacher at Cathedral High School, invited Anderson to speak
at the temple, the bishop seized the opportunity to improve
What should he wear on such an occasion?
The rabbi suggested he dress the way Bishop Fulton Sheen did
on his popular television show, "Life is Worth Living."
Anderson, digging the appropriate apparel out of closets and
draws, appeared all decked out in black cassock, purple feriola,
zuchetto, ring, and pectoral cross. The trappings of his office
proved important since they emphasized his official position
when he departed from his prepared text and movingly spoke
about the Holocaust, the genocide of European Jews by the
Nazis during World War II. Anderson "could not remember
any Catholic Church leader expressing sorrow to the Jewish
people for the death and mutilation of their brothers and
sisters at Dachau, Belsen and the other horror camps of the
Third Reich." In his capacity as Bishop of Duluth, he
"begged forgiveness for any part that the Christian world
played in such a catastrophe."
Many in the temple wept openly. Some
still remember Anderson's 1975 talk as one of the most memorable
events of their lives. For Anderson, the occasion was a touching
reminder of the old Jewish lady who 32 years earlier, had
came for his first priestly blessing and hoped that when her
son was a rabbi they could exchange pulpits. The ecumenical
actions of Bishop Anderson and Rabbi Gelbart were an important
grassroots contribution to the improvement of Catholic-Jewish
Social justice was another area of
great concern to the bishop since he believed that renewal
could only occur when the laity realized that the entire People
of God, not just bishops, priests and nuns, had a responsibility
to become informed about poverty. A change of heart and mind
was needed because there was "a severe dichotomy...between
the way many Americans wish to live and the way outlined by
Christ the Lord." For those who were not happy unless
they lived in an expensive house in a prestigious neighborhood,
he wrote: "I guess it is possible to live in such surroundings
and follow the way pointed out by Jesus in the Gospels, but
at best it appears most difficult." He explained that
riches were not evil in themselves, but a Christian had to
remember that only God was good. The message of Jesus was
to share! Anderson maintained that the real question was "not
how much one has or does not have. It is a question of whom
or what is the central value of one's life. Who or what sits
on the throne of one's heart."
In addition to trying to awaken Catholics
to the problems of world-wide hunger and encouraging them
to share, the bishop took action to deal with poverty in his
own backyard. Devastating conditions in the taconite industry,
backbone of northeastern Minnesota's economy, prompted him
to establish the Damiano Center in 1982; the center housed
agencies that provided badly needed services to the needy.
Bishop Anderson believed that for Vatican II renewal to flourish,
the People of God had to put Gospel values first and realize
that they were their brother's brother and their sister's
The second class status of women in
the Catholic Church was a thorny issue for the reformed -minded
bishop. Despite his strong conviction that women should be
ordained, obedience was important to him, and he adhered to
church law. Anderson could not fulfill women's dreams of equality
at the moment, but he looked to the future with hope. Although
Pope John Paul II was opposed to the ordination of women,
Anderson declared, that "no one has the capacity to see
how the spirit will move in the future."
Bishop Anderson did what he could
to improve the statues of women in the diocese asking the
Diocesan Pastoral Council to establish a task force to examine
the issue of women in the church. This led to a two-day meeting
at St. Francis House in mid-May 1976. The discussions at the
conference were a clear indication that the church needed
to change the second class status of women.
In 1980 the bishop secured permission
from the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura to appoint
Mary J. Donahue a defender of the bond. Donahue was one of
the first laywomen in the country to be appointed to this
position on a diocesan matrimonial court.
Though papal policies on the ordination
of women compromised Anderson's stand on social justice, the
U.S National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB) issued
statements that provided welcomed guidance on moral issues
raised by the war in Vietnam and violations of human rights
in Central America. Breaking with tradition, the bishops opposed
U.S. military efforts in Vietnam. It was a dramatic change
since the bishops had a strong tradition of vigorously supporting
the government in every military conflict from the War for
Independence in the 1770s to World War II in the 1940s. This
patriotic stance, reflecting the minority status of U.S. Catholics,
was part of an effort to prove that Catholics were "true"
Americans and to deflect anti-Catholic bias.
The tradition of supporting U.S. military
efforts continued for much of the Vietnam War, but finally
in 1971 the bishops called for an end to the fighting "with
no further delay." In fact, they called for a Marshall-like
plan for Southeast Asia: "We recognize our nation's moral
obligation, together with other nations, to contribute mightily
to the restoration and the development of Southeast Asia.
After World War II, our country launched an unprecedented
program of economic assistance and social reconstruction of
war-torn countries. Certainly we can do no less now."
Bishop Anderson strongly supported the 1971 statement.
Likewise, Anderson's opposition to
President Ronald Reagan's decision to supply arms to El Salvador
must be seen in the context of the NCCB's 1981 "Statement
on Central America." Some who angrily telephoned the
bishop to denounce his stand may have been surprised by the
views of the U.S. Catholic Conference.
Though strongly opposed to Communism,
the bishops, reminded Catholics that "the Latin American
Church has repeatedly stated in the last decade that external
subversion is not the primary threat or principal cause of
conflict in these countries. The dominant challenge is the
internal conditions of poverty and the denial of basic human
rights." They added "any conception of the problems
in Central America which is cast principally in terms of global
security issues, military responses, arms transfers, and preservation
of a situation which fails to promote meaningful participation
of the majority of the population in their societies is, in
our view, profoundly mistaken." Clearly, the bishops
were appalled by the murder of Archbishop Oscar Romero of
El Salvador and four United States women serving as missionaries
in that country.
Bishop Anderson publicly supported
the statements issued by the NCCB on the Vietnam War and Central
America. Given the strong anti-Communist ideology of many
Catholics, it is not surprising that he faced opposition and
even anger, but he was convinced that the NCCB was right and
that a renewed church actively pursued social justice.
In addition to fostering renewal through
social justice, Bishop Anderson embarked on a bold diocesan
initiative, "Call to Action," designed to implement
the People of God vision. Duluth's "Call to Action"
surfaced grassroots concerns and fostered greater shared responsibility.
Laymen and women participated in setting diocesan goals and
objectives. The rather complicated process involved discussions
in the parishes, a survey, and a 1977 plenary session of over
200 parish representatives and members of the Diocesan Pastoral
Council. The goals were to be announced at an all-diocese
mass to be held on Pentecost Sunday 1978.
Bishop Anderson announced his plan
for a diocesan-wide celebration of Pentecost at a 1975 pilgrimage
in Rome urging those present to spread the word and spark
enthusiasm. He hoped to gather 40,000 or 50,000 or more so
that the congregation could see that the church was people!
Thick fog and cold rain led to a much-smaller-than-expected
gathering at Griggs Field in Duluth. It was heartbreaking
for the bishop, but the Eucharist was celebrated and the "Call
to Action" goals were proclaimed: strengthening families,
renewing spirituality and developing community. It was indeed
a tribute to the bishop that so many braved the weather.
Paul Anderson, deeply committed to
renewal and the People of God vision of the church, was very
encouraged by "the new direction" set by Pope John
Paul I. When John Paul's predecessor, Paul VI, died on August
6, 1978, Bishop Anderson was hiking in the White Mountains
of New Hampshire. The next morning, in a country store in
Lincoln, he learned of the pontiff's death. Having registered
at the North American College in Rome for a month of prayer
and study, the bishop was looking forward to spending time
with 44 U.S. bishops and to being present for the "coronation"
of the new pope.
There was no "coronation."
John Paul I was not crowned with the tiara, the triple crown,
but chose instead to inaugurate his ministry with the pallium--an
inch-wide circular band of white wool with two pendant strips,
one in front and one in back. The circular band, worn around
the shoulders by the pope, archbishops and some bishops, is
marked with six dark purple crosses. A symbol of the plentitude
of the pontifical office, it rests for a night on the tomb
of Saint Peter. The moving ceremony took place on September
Anderson penned a graphic description
of the colorful scene. "Dignitaries came: African diplomats
wearing native dress, Indian women in their saris, queens
from Spain and Belgium wearing their high lace mantillas,
finely tailored diplomats from Latin America, people from
China and Japan and the islands of the South Pacific, not
to mention American and European ambassadors and charges d'affaires.
They spoke powerfully of the universality of the Church and
the world-wide importance of the See of Peter."
The bishop was impressed with the
new pope and filled with hope: "I don't think I shall
ever forget the feeling of peace and joy that overwhelmed
me that night." At an audience, held on Thursday, September
21, 1978, John Paul talked about many things, but what stood
out boldly in Anderson's mind were the pope's words about
bishops as pastors. John Paul urged the bishops to stay close
to the people telling them how he would "visit parishes
and stay sometimes for two or three days at a time."
His "frank and open style" and his relaxed mood
made the audience a "family-like" visit. John Paul,
with his pastoral emphasis, touched Anderson's heart and mind.
The new pope was a kindred spirit. Anderson declared: "Coming
away that day I am sure that we bishops felt the Church was
embarking upon a new era of warmth, trust and collegiality
that was so personified in this personal, humble and loving
man John Paul I."
Before Anderson left Rome, John Paul
was dead. If the pope had lived would he have fulfilled Anderson's
high expectations? We will never know. His thirty-three day
pontificate was far too brief to accurately assess his vision
of the church. The Duluth bishop, grieving at the loss of
the pope, made a final visit to the tombs of the two popes
who led the Second Vatican Council, John XXIII and Paul VI,
and wondered where John Paul I would be placed. After a short
visit to Ireland, he returned to Duluth and continued his
efforts to foster renewal.
Laity: "Called and Gifted"
After his return to Duluth, Bishop
Anderson continued his efforts to implement the People of
God vision of the church stressing pastoral councils, small
neighborhood communities, and social justice. In addition
to his work in the diocese, he played an important role on
a national committee that drafted a document on the role of
the laity. The document, "Called and Gifted: The American
Catholic Laity 1980, Reflections of the U.S. Bishops,"
addressed a wide-range of topics including lay ministry, a
vital aspect of Vatican II renewal.
Anderson's interest in lay ministry
was in the tradition of one of Minnesota's most notable prelates,
Archbishop John Ireland of St. Paul. At the turn of the twentieth
century, the archbishop advocated greater lay initiative.
He declared, "Let there be individual action. Layman
need not wait for priest, nor priest, for bishop, nor bishop
Ireland was deeply interested in the
history of the church in the upper Midwest. He wrote lay persons
"were the vanguard of the priesthood, they prepared the
way and drew after them the priesthood, and before the priesthood
came they did, as far as they could do, the work of the priesthood,
instructing children in the faith and meeting together for
prayers on Sunday. The tradition of early settlements handing
down in their respective districts the names of laymen familiarly
styled priests or bishops, give proof of this lay apostolate."
It is obvious that Ireland both recognized
and appreciated the laity's important role in the history
of the church in the upper Midwest. Without using the words
"lay ministry," Ireland was clearly pleased that
laypersons did the work of the church. Despite his efforts
lay ministry remained a controversial idea in the Catholic
Church. Some priests opposed it fearing that it threatened
their authority and prestige.
Bishop Anderson was fully aware that
lay ministry raised troubling questions about the relationship
between priests and laity. Despite the problems, he thought
that lay ministry was essential in keeping the church truly
alive. With the steady decline in the numbers of priests,
the church, more than ever, needed to awaken the sleeping
giant of lay ministry.
Given his exposure to the lay-oriented
Christian Family Movement, Anderson was ready, indeed eager
for lay ministry. The Mystical Body concept that informed
CFM prepared Anderson for the Vatican II understanding of
the church as the People of God. Historian Jeffrey Burns explains
that "CFM was one of the earliest Catholic groups to
vigorously popularize the concept of the Mystical Body of
Christ and to push it to its logical conclusion. Given authority
by Pius XII's 1943 encyclical on the Mystical Body, the concept
introduced a new model of the Church." In St. Paul's
analogy, the "Church is a living body, of which Christ
is the head and the faithful are the members. This was heady
stuff for the laity, who were now being told that they were
Moreover, the concept of the Mystical
Body "suggested a new approach to relationships within
the Church. Rather than reinforcing the traditional hierarchical
structure of the Church, the Mystical Body instructed that
each person was responsible to and for other members of the
Body." Burns adds, "few groups were better suited
to implement the council's call for renewal." After all
Vatican II's "new definition of Church as the People
of God came as nothing new to CFMers, who had been steeped
in the theology of the Mystical Body and who had been told
for close to two decades that they were the Church."
Bishop Anderson, utilizing the principles
of CFM, argued that lay ministry would be effective only when
Catholics realized that the church was all the People of God,
not just the pope, bishops and priests. He maintained that
laypeople played a vital role in ministry since they lived
in both the church and the world and brought the church and
its Christian message to a waiting world and the issues of
the world to the church. Anderson was given a rare opportunity
to help shape the national discussion on lay ministry when
he was invited to serve on a committee drafting a document
on the laity for the U.S bishops. The bishops planned to issue
this document of pastoral reflections in 1980 to commemorate
the 15th anniversary of the Second Vatican Council's Decree
on the Apostolate of the Laity.
Kathleen Walsh puts the Vatican II
decree into context, explaining that "the idea of organized
lay apostolic action is usually traced back to Pope Pius XI
(1922-1939), under whose inspirations many lay organizations
were started. It was described as 'Catholic Action,' and in
it the laity were intended to operate under strict episcopal
direction. This reflected the belief that the hierarchy's
was the true apostolate and the laity's derived from theirs."
In contrast, the Vatican II Decree on the Apostolate of the
Laity opened with the "emphatic statement that the call
to the apostolate comes to every Christian with baptism."
She adds that the Vatican II document was designed "to
acknowledge a demand for and assumption of greater responsibility
and autonomy of organization and action on the part of an
increasingly better-educated laity, and to intensify and broaden
To commemorate this important Vatican
II decree the bishops issued "Called and Gifted,"
written by the Committee on the Laity chaired by Bishop Albert
H. Ottenwaller of Steubenville, Ohio. Ottenwaller, like Anderson,
had extensive experience as a parish priest and he was eager
to have the Duluth bishop on the committee knowing that he
would speak from a pastoral perspective. Anderson more than
met Ottenweller's high expectations thoughtfully articulating
the following positions: the document should be succinct,
in non-technical language, and should speak to the heart as
well as the mind. In the deliberations, Anderson stressed
that the laity was gifted and should play a significant role
in the mission of the church arguing that the term "ministry"
should be applied to certain lay activities.
Though based on his own deep spirituality
and extensive pastoral experience, Anderson discovered that
his use of the term "ministry" to describe lay activities,
was very controversial. Some on the committee argued that
the term should be limited to the clergy and that lay actions
should be considered "service" while some others
were willing to extend the definition of ministry to include
lay church professionals. In contrast, Anderson opposed narrow
definitions stressing that laypeople ministered to each other
and that helping Catholics realize this was an important part
of renewal. To resolve the dilemma, he suggested regional
meetings to learn what laymen and women had to say. This broke
the deadlock! As committee members listened they realized
that laypersons did in fact minister to one another. Thanks
to Paul Anderson, the U.S. bishops did apply the term "ministry"
to lay actions.
As Anderson wished "Called and
Gifted" was succinct, used nontechnical language, spoke
to the heart as well as the mind, and opened with the People
of God vision of the church. The bishops recognized that "one
of the chief characteristics of laymen and women today is
their growing sense of being adult members of the church.
Adulthood implies knowledge, experience and awareness, freedom
and responsibility, and mutuality in relationships. It is
true, however, that the experience of laypersons 'as church
members' has not always reflected this understanding of adulthood.
Now, thanks to the impetus of the Second Vatican Council,
laywomen and men feel themselves called to exercise the same
mature interdependence and practical self-direction which
characterize them in other areas of life."
Moreover, baptism and confirmation
empowered laypeople to perform certain ministries that they
exercised in both the world and the church. Turning first
to the world, the bishops declared that "Christian service
or ministry broadly understood includes civic and public activity,
response to the imperatives of peace and justice, resolution
of social, political and economic conflicts, especially as
they influence the poor, oppressed and minorities." The
laity were in the vanguard. They were engaged "directly
in the task of relating Christian values and practices to
complex questions such as those of business ethics, political
choice, economic security, quality of life, cultural development
and family planning."
"Called and Gifted" also
praised the development of lay ministries in the church such
as service on pastoral councils, school boards and committees
dealing with finances, liturgy and ecumenism. Others exercised
special roles as ministers of the eucharist, teachers and
pastoral assistants. The document provided the bishops with
a welcomed opportunity to acknowledge and thank the laymen
and women who were serving in the missions.
Highlighting the contributions of
women, "Called and Gifted" declared that "special
mention must be made of women, who in the past have not always
been allowed to take their proper role in the church's ministry."
While the document called for "an increased role for
women in the ministries of the church" it did not endorse
Anderson's view that women should be ordained.
In committee deliberations, Anderson
insisted that laymen and women were gifted, and he urged church
leaders to listen to their ideas and concerns. "Called
and Gifted" recognized that the laity was "making
an indispensable contribution to the experience of the people
of God" and that the full impact of their contribution
was only in its "beginning form in the post-Vatican II
church." The bishops made it clear that they had "spoken
only to listen." It was not their intention to rigidly
define or control the discussion. They simply wished to take
their place and exercise their role "among the people
of God." They now waited for
the next word.
The document also dealt with another area close to Anderson's
heart and mind: small Christian communities. He used a Neighborhood
Renewal Ministry to encourage the formation of small Christian
communities. Core team members included: Father James Scheurer,
a diocesan priest, Sister Patricia Schneider, S.S.N.D., Sister
Joan Gerards, O.S.F., and Father Thomas Maney, M.M., and 30
lay volunteers. This successful program, which attracted regional
attention, shaped the bishop's views and convinced him that
Vatican II renewal really took place in small communities.
"Called and Gifted" recognized that since laypeople
experienced "intimacy, support, acceptance and availability
in family life, they seek the same in their Christian communities."
This was "leading to a review of parish size, organization,
priorities and identity."
Anderson's ideas about lay ministry
were in the end decisive. Aware that he had no graduate degrees
and unsure of his intellectual ability, he spoke from his
own deep faith and pastoral experience. He was convinced that
lived experience gave concrete meaning to theological concepts.
Paul Anderson's legacy is not found
in buildings. He was not a brick and mortar bishop. His major
contributions were his profound impact on people and his ideas
that grew out of his interaction with them. Much of his intellectual
legacy is preserved in "Called and Gifted." Many
of the ideas in this document are a challenge to this very
day. The church still needs to awaken the sleeping giant of
lay ministry if it is to bring Christ to a waiting world.
YEARS: "CALLED TO BE AN INTIMATE FRIEND OF THE LORD"
Bishop Anderson had incessantly worked
to renew the church in his diocese and beyond. He finally
realized that he had to take care of himself as well as serve
others. Having long appreciated art, he began to take painting
lessons from an accomplished artist, Sister Mary Charles McGough,
O.S.B. Painting with water colors changed his life! He learned
that painting helped him focus, relax and forget the burdens
of his office. Moreover, art enabled him to be creative, something
the structure of the church often did not.
In fall 1982, a beaming Paul Anderson
posed for a photographer with one of his paintings. The photograph,
which appeared in OUTLOOK, was used in an announcement of
his exhibit, "Simple Gifts" at the College of St.
Scholastica. His art even helped the poor. Writing to Sister
Mary Evelyn Jegen, Anderson mentioned that when the Damiano
Center for the poor opened in Duluth, he had "painted
a picture of San Damiano to be hung in the building. Someone
suggested that we have prints made and perhaps offer them
to people who would donate to the cause of helping the poor....
We have only had them for two days and already 700 dollars
have come in from 7 separate donors. When I started this painting
a few years ago, I never imagined that some day it would be
put at the disposal of the poor."
Though creative in art, Anderson found
that heading a diocese was often not creative. Moreover, it
prevented him from doing the pastoral work that he felt called
to do. Always more of a pastor than an administrator, he was
eager for a new more creative ministry--a ministry that was
closely connected with Vatican II renewal. He wanted to spark
spiritual growth that would lead to a change of heart and
mind. The way to do this, he argued, was to work with priests
who in turn would share spiritual values with parishioners.
Believing that a bishop should not head a diocese for more
than ten or twelve years, he hoped to conclude his service
in Duluth and purse a new ministry in spiritual direction.
In 1978 he discussed his intention
to seek a new ministry with officials of the Sacred Congregation
for Bishops in Rome. He learned that the Holy See expected
bishops to administer their dioceses until age 75, unless
suffering from significant health problems. Despite this negative
response, Anderson, at the end of his tenth years in Duluth,
requested permission to resign from the Duluth post and assume
a new ministry. Permission was denied.
He tried again in 1982, discussing
his ideas for a new ministry with Archbishop John R. Roach,
Metropolitan of the Province of St. Paul. The Duluth bishop
hoped to work with Father Vincent Dwyer in the field of priestly
renewal--leading retreats and serving as a spiritual director.
When he listed possible assignments, he did include returning
to the Diocese of Sioux Falls to assist Bishop Paul V. Dudley
and serve as the diocesan Vicar for Spiritual Renewal. Though
returning to Sioux Falls was not his top choice, it did appeal
to church officials who thought that 65 was too young to retire
from administration and preferred to keep him in the familiar
On August 17, 1982, Anderson held
a press conference to announce his resignation as ordinary
of the Diocese of Duluth. He made it clear that he was not
retiring, but pursuing a new ministry and that he would continue
to head the diocese as apostolic administrator until a new
bishop was named.
Anderson's 14 years of leadership
was celebrated in October with a mass at Holy Rosary Cathedral
and a dinner at the Duluth Arena-Auditorium. Given the bishop's
close ties with the Jewish community, it was most appropriate
that Isadore Crystal, a member of the Temple Israel Synagogue,
gave the innovation. Monsignor Patrick McDowell, speaking
what was in many hearts, addressed the bishop: "You have
grown and you have given us a chance to grow. You have helped
us to understand what it means to be a Catholic Christian
in 1982." McDowell's remarks were indeed appropriate!
Though many of Anderson's programs, especially in diocesan
governance, have not endured, his deep faith, spirituality
and commitment to the People of God vision of the church touched
and changed many lives. His Vatican II renewal program had
achieved its central purpose: it had fostered internal changes
of heart and mind. Because of his efforts many developed a
new sense of prayer and changed their attitudes about themselves
and their role in the church.
Paul Anderson, in his own gentle way,
had sparked a spiritual revolution. As the bishop's brother
Philip so accurately predicted: "Because so much of what
we learn is hindsight, I rather suspect that many people in
Duluth will suddenly realize who their bishop was after he
has left them."
The departing bishop handled public
farewells with grace and charm, but his heart was heavy. Leaving
Duluth proved far more difficult than he had ever imagined.
He fretted about his new assignment: Would he be able to concentrate
on spiritual direction or would he become mired in the duties
of an auxiliary bishop? Moreover, as the time for departure
drew near, he became more and more anxious about the impending
separation from friends--friends he had laughed and cried
with, friends who had provided emotional support, enriched
his life, and sparked spiritual growth.
In light of his anxieties, it was
indeed fortunate that he was able to make a retreat in the
summer of 1983. His retreat at the Avila Centre of Spiritual
Renewal in Thunder Bay, Ontario prepared him to say goodbye
to his life in Duluth. Thanks to the advice of his spiritual
director and his own fervent prayer, the move to South Dakota
became less and less traumatic as he realized that it was
a homecoming--once again he would be serving with his two
seminary classmates and friends, Monsignor John McEneaney
and Father Leonard Stanton.
nbsp; Extended reflection produced an important
insight into his core goal as a bishop. Who were the Apostles,
he asked? His answer was telling: they were the intimate friends
of the Lord! If bishops were to be successors to the Apostles,
they must be intimate friends of the Lord. Deep prayer was
needed. With renewed energy and a sense of purpose he focused
on his core goal: to become an intimate friend of the Lord!
Once in South Dakota, he found that
his duties as an auxiliary bishop--masses, confirmations,
parish visits, ordination of deacons, and talks--occupied
most of his time; the long distances between parishes made
this important ministry especially time consuming. Although
he had the title Vicar for Spiritual Renewal, Anderson was
not able to focus on spiritual direction to the degree he
His hope for a nontraditional ministry
did not fully materialize, but he was blessed with the beginnings
of a Christian community. His warm personality and infectious
spirituality drew people to the new St. Francis House, a cottage
on the shores of Lake Kampeska, where guests could pray and
heal. As always, Paul Anderson was a sympathetic, nonjudgmental
spiritual advisor, but above all a friend.
The South Dakota years also included
one of the highlights of his life. In Advent 1985 he traveled
to Central America to lead a two-and-a-half-week retreat for
priests and sisters who staffed the mission in San Lucas Toliman,
Guatemala. Anderson was blessed with kindred spirits: his
friend and spiritual advisor, Father Richard Rice, S.J., and
a missionary from the Diocese of New Ulm, Minnesota, Monsignor
Gregory T. Schaffer. Anderson's talks, infused with his positive
attitude, stressed heartfelt themes--the People of God, the
need to listen to the people and lay ministry.
A learner as well as a teacher, Anderson
was impressed with the materially poor, but spiritually rich
Guatemalans. He thought that North Americans could learn a
great deal from their culture with its stress on the extended
family, cooperation and community. Lay catechists were vital
to the success of the mission and reinforced Anderson's conviction
that lay ministry was an effective instrument in spreading
Despite his blessings, his final years
were clouded. In October 1986 he wrote to Monsignor John Tracy
Ellis, an eminent church historian, expressing his deep concern
that the church was moving away from the spirit of Vatican
II. In particular, Anderson was distressed by the controversy
surrounding Archbishop Raymond Hunthausen of Seattle.
Conservative Catholics, riled by change
and turmoil, organized to protest what they regarded as destructive
ideas and practices. They wrote letters to Rome denouncing
reform minded bishops and theologians, who in their eyes had
capitulated to modernity or even worse drifted into heresy.
As historian Gerald P. Fogarty, S.J. explains a letter-writing
campaign to church officials had "contributed to an apostolic
visitation" of Hunthausen "and late in 1985, to
the appointment of Donald Wuerl as auxiliary bishop with special
faculties over certain aspects of the administration of the
archdiocese. By the summer of 1986, the situation became so
untenable that Hunthausen announced his inability to administer
his diocese under such restrictions."
Writing to John Tracy Ellis, Anderson
stated that the controversy over Hunthausen must be a heavy
burden for Ellis as he documented "the history of the
Church for this day and age." He declared that it was
"also a burden for someone like myself who became so
caught up in the wonderful reform of Vatican Council II."
Recalling happier days, he remembered when Archbishop Jean
Jadot was named Apostolic Delegate. Jadot, a Belgian, who
served from 1973 to 1980, was noted for his informal style
and his efforts to promote episcopal candidates who were pastoral
and collegial. Anderson noted that the Jadot era was such
a promising time, "but now it seems that history has
taken another turn." Out of favor in Rome, Jadot became
the only delegate to the United States never to be created
a cardinal. Anderson, with faith in the Holy Spirit, believed
that things would change again and that the future held bright
Planning to retire at age 75, Anderson
looked forward to living on Duluth's Park Point, where he
would be close to nature, enjoy the company of friends and
deepen his spiritual life. It was not to be.
On December 31, 1986, suffering from
prostate cancer, he underwent surgery at St. Mary's Hospital
in Rochester, Minnesota. After postoperative care, he was
returned to his own room, where he greeted his sister Dorothy
Antonucci and Bishop Dudley. He mentioned that he was in pain.
To control the pain, a nurse gave him an injection of Demerol
and he went into a deep sleep. Dorothy noticed that her brother
was not breathing and summoned help. Although resuscitation
returned his heartbeat and blood pressure, it was too late.
Arriving in the afternoon, Sister
Mary Charles was shocked to find the bishop on life-support
and could tell that the doctors thought that he was brain
dead. Sister Mary Charles, Bishop Dudley and Dorothy stayed
with him praying, singing and touching. Others came: Monsignor
John McEneaney, Donna Effinger, the bishop's brother Leo,
with his wife Ellen and their sons Phil and Paul, Father Richard
Rice, Father James Scheuer, Margaret Gates, and Pat Leib.
With heartfelt emotion, Sister Mary
Charles details the events of the bishop's last four days.
His vital signs weakened several times and in the early morning
hours of January 4, 1987, the Feast of the Epiphany, the 44th
anniversary of his ordination, friends and relatives gathered
to see him "off on the journey of new life." They
prayed, shared memories and sang hymns. Mary Charles vividly
describes the "gentle beauty" of the verses of "Kumbayah"
which were "sung over and over, like a mantra."
The community sang "'how we love him, Lord, Kumbayah....
Take him home, my Lord, take him home.'" Paul Francis
Anderson died as he had lived, surrounded by a loving Christian
On January 7, 1987, Paul Anderson's
life and ministry were celebrated at a memorial mass in St.
Joseph's Cathedral in Sioux Fall. In his homily, Father Leonard
Stanton, a friend from seminary days, recalled the bishop's
joy in living, story telling and his special gift of encouraging
and healing. Stanton's well-drawn sketch identified an enduring
trait: Paul Anderson was real--he never pretended to be someone
other than who he really was.
In Duluth the mass of Christian burial
was celebrated on January 9 in the Cathedral of Our Lady of
the Rosary. Archbishop John Roach, Bishop Robert Brom and
Bishop Paul Dudley presided. Bishop Anderson was buried in
a simple plywood coffin made by the Benedictine monks of Blue
Cloud Abbey, Marvin, South Dakota. Blue Cloud held a special
place in his heart since he felt the Holy Spirit had touched
him there. He was buried in his plain "beat up"
miter, which was so typical of his simple lifestyle and symbolic
of his commitment to social justice for the poor. His "heavy-soled
walking shoes" were fitting for a man who loved the outdoors
and drew strength from nature.
In his moving homily, Monsignor John
McEneaney captured the essence of his seminary classmate,
confidant and close friend. McEneaney's reflections, published
in Sioux Falls' BISHOP'S BULLETIN, are a remarkable tribute
to Anderson's life and ministry. He pointed out that Anderson
loved life and the beauty of nature. The bishop's appreciation
of beauty could also be seen in his gift for painting. He
"captured some of the beautiful things he saw in God's
McEneaney emphasized one of Anderson's
greatest gifts: the ability to be a true friend. When he was
"a parish priest in South Dakota, his rectory was always
a Mecca for his brother priests. People were welcomed, especially
the lonely, the shy and the troubled." Later as a bishop
his "residence was a marvelous house of hospitality--it
was a place of refuge and renewal--it was a house of prayer--it
was a home filled with love." The bishop "had an
extraordinary gift for reaching out to people, touching them
and making them feel accepted, bringing out the best in them."
McEneaney reminded the congregation of Anderson "rare
gift of making one feel as though he were the only one enjoying
his full attention, and he had all the time in the world for
Clearly, the Vatican II vision of
the church as the People of God was central to Anderson's
ministry and understanding of the church. McEneaney stressed
that Anderson was open to the Holy Spirit and "caught
the true sense of the renewal called for by the Fathers of
the 2nd Vatican Council. He read widely and studied; above
all, he prayed and with contagious enthusiasm and a fine sense
of balance, he led his people to remarkable growth."
McEneaney was right! Anderson had
loved, prayed and led people to the realization of what Vatican
II was all about--a change of heart and mind. His work on
"Called and Gifted," the 1980 document on the laity,
and his leadership in Duluth and Sioux Falls helped engender
a new attitude toward the church and the role of laymen and
women. The bishop, viewing the church as the People of God,
believed that laymen and women ministered to each other and
that lay ministry was central to renewal.
In a powerful conclusion, McEneaney
highlighted, Anderson's warm personality, enthusiasm for life,
love of nature, and contagious faith in God. "If Bishop
Paul could speak to us today in his charmingly relaxed way--after
telling us a story--I suspect he would say something like
"I've had a full and exciting
life. I've loved my family, my friends, all the people whom
I was called to serve, and have been blessed with their love.
I delighted in the seashore and other treasures of my native
New England, the great prairies of South Dakota, the woods
and lakes of Minnesota. I thank God for my Catholic faith,
for his Church, and for the gift of my priesthood and episcopacy.
"My reluctance to leave these,
and all of you in this life is [made] easier by the confidence
that the new life will surpass it!