Analysis Portland's George goes back to Chicago
By TIM UNSWORTH
Chicago
Archbishop Francis Eugene George, who soon is likely to be a
prince of the church, a cardinal, is a small, wiry, bald man with lively eyes
and a quick smile. He could be your neighborhood pharmacist. But he had just
been named the leader of the one of the most influential dioceses in the
American church.
The appointment of the Portland, Ore., prelate as the eighth
archbishop of Chicago was announced April 8 by Bishop Raymond Goedert,
administrator of the Chicago archdiocese since the death of Cardinal Joseph
Bernardin on Nov. 14.
"The Holy Father has chosen an outstanding bishop as our new
shepherd," Goedert said. "I am confident our new archbishop will guide this
local church with great skill and dedication as we face the challenges and
opportunities of a new millennium of Christianity."
Goedert's introduction was classic ecclesiastical prose, drawing
only polite silence. Then, referring to the weeks during which he dodged
literally hundreds of inquiries, he added, "Now, I can get back to telling the
truth again." There was much laughter as the press applauded the man they had
come to like and respect during the nearly five-month interregnum.
George, an Oblate of Mary Immaculate, opened with a paraphrasing
of a T.S. Eliot poem about returning to a place from whence one came and seeing
it again for the first time. "Now," he said, "I give the rest of my life to
Chicago." At age 60, that could work out to 15 years, until the year 2012.
Although rumors of a dark horse candidate began to emerge early
Monday afternoon, few took them seriously until church watchers learned that
the archbishop was en route to Chicago, following his attendance at the
installation of Denver's new archbishop, Charles E. Chaput.
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George arrived about 10 p.m. in Chicago, where he was born on Jan.
16, 1937, and where he spent his early years. His arrival at the archbishop's
mansion was delayed several hours in the hope of dodging the city's aggressive
media. It was a fruitless effort to keep the appointment secret. In fact, the
Chicago Tribune had its edition on the streets before the news conference ended
at 11 a.m.
After more than four months of speculation, Chicagoans were
stunned by the appointment of this relatively unknown man who had been raised
in St. Pascal's parish on Chicago's northwest side. Young Francis George, the
son of German-American parents ("with a touch of Irish in there somewhere,"
according to retired Auxiliary Bishop Timothy Lyne), had considered entering
the archdiocese's high school seminary to study for the diocesan priesthood.
However, a bout of polio, which left him with a leg brace he still wears,
caused him to change his mind because the daily commute to the high school
seminary would be too difficult.
Instead, he entered St. Henry's Preparatory Seminary in
Belleville, Ill., conducted by the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate, still
with the intention of preparing for the diocesan priesthood. At age 20,
however, he entered the Oblate novitiate.
George studied at the University of Ottawa, The Catholic
University of America, Tulane University and the Urban College in Rome. He
holds two master's degrees (theology and philosophy) and two doctorates (an STD
in Ecclesiology from the Pontifical University Urbaniana in Rome and a PhD in
American Philosophy from Tulane University in New Orleans). He taught briefly
at Tulane and Gonzaga University in Spokane and spent four years as an
assistant professor of philosophy at Creighton University in Omaha.
The academic background shows. His responses are carefully phrased
-- some sound like well-dressed syllogisms. The new archbishop is glib,
articulate and fast. His predecessor, Bernardin, was not nearly as quick on the
draw. Bernardin chose his words carefully, as if searching the tree for the
best specimen. Further, he always left a little wiggle room. George appears to
prefer the declarative to the subjunctive.
Both The New York Times and the Chicago Tribune described George
as a "conservative intellectual." Several academic observers such as Jesuit Fr.
Thomas J. Reese, a senior fellow at the Woodstock Theological Center at
Georgetown University, and R. Scott Appleby, director of the Cushwa Center for
the Study of American Catholicism at the University of Notre Dame, seemed to
agree.
George's personal history links him to one of his likely mentors,
Cardinal Bernard Law of Boston, who allegedly boosted his candidacy for the
seraphim level of the American episcopacy. He told reporters here that he has
known Law since the mid-1960s when both were priests in Mississippi. He said at
the time he admired Law's application of church teaching in fighting
institutional racism and he later spent three years, beginning in 1986, at a
Massachusetts think tank founded by Law.
On his resume, one of the most controversial posts he holds is as
a member of the six-bishop ad hoc committee to oversee the use of the Catechism
(see NCR March 21). One publisher, speaking off the record, described George as
"brilliant, philosophically and theologically," but also one of the most rigid
on the committee.
George paid tribute to Bernardin with a touching phrase that also
revealed his own philosophy. "When Cardinal Bernardin sat down [after answering
a question]," he said, "he always left more space than when he got up, even if
he couldn't solve the problem in question. I don't know whether or not I can do
that." Later in the day, he visited Bernardin's tomb at Mount Carmel
Cemetery.
After nearly a full day of scrutiny by dozens of reporters, it
became clear that George's church will be the church as John Paul II sees it.
George clearly recognizes that his responses will likely be more tightly
wrapped than his predecessor's. He maintains that, on substantive issues, he
stands with Bernardin and that his only real differences will be those of
style. But he continued to use the word "truth" as if both he and the church
had all marketing rights.
During one philosophical foray, he tried to make a distinction
between relationship and symbol, holding that the church was more symbol than
function. Thus, women could function as well as men as priests but the
symbolism would be lost. Instead, he lost his media sound bite audience who
were only asking his position on the ordination of women.
Clearly, he is utterly opposed to the ordination of women. He sees
his obligation as one of trying to persuade those who may be hurt by such
teachings of the unwavering truth of the official church teaching.
In 1973, just 10 years after his ordination, George was named
provincial of the Central Region of the Oblates. A year later, he was elected
vicar general of the 5,100-member congregation, a post he held for 12 years,
working out of Rome.
In 1990, he was appointed the fifth bishop of Yakima, Wash., a
small diocese of some 70,000 Catholics. Yakima is over 50 percent Latino, and
George developed a reputation of being an advocate on Hispanic issues. He
served there until April 30, 1996, when he was named archbishop of Portland,
Ore.
Officially installed on May 27, 1996, George had been an
archbishop of the 278,000 Catholic archdiocese less than 10 months when the
appointment to Chicago was announced.
Few people were willing to go on record about the new Chicago
bishop. Most simply wished to withhold judgment. "Let's give him a chance,"
most said, pleading that they barely knew the man who had slipped, almost
unnoticed, up the ecclesiastical ladder.
Reports of his appointment were applauded by conservative elements
within the Chicago church. One paper suggested that he was a member of Opus
Dei. It's not likely, but Opus Dei praised the appointment. If Bernardin was
identified with the liberal left, George has already been tethered to the
conservative right.
Fr. Michael Place, theologian to the late Cardinal Bernardin, said
that George "will be clear but inviting.
"He brings new life to the church," Place added. "And he has laid
out the foundation of a positive relationship with his priests."
Fr. David Jones, pastor of St. Ambrose Parish, viewed the new
prelate as "very honest, very open."
"He has a clear sense of himself," Jones added. "But he's here to
listen."
The new archbishop will be formally installed on May 7. His
Chicago-born parents died in the 1980s. His only sibling, a sister, Margaret
Cain, lives in Grand Rapids, Mich.
Tim Unsworth, author and lecturer, writes from Chicago.
National Catholic Reporter, April 18,
1997
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