Bishop Murphy, total mensch,
fights cancer
By RETTA BLANEY
Special to the National Catholic Reporter
Baltimore
Two fifth grade boys stood in front
of their grandfathers coffin. A thin, white-haired man approached them,
expressed his sympathy and introduced himself. Hearing the mans name, one
of the boys broke into a big smile and said: How are you feeling, Bishop?
We pray for you every day.
Many people are praying for P. Francis Murphy, auxiliary bishop of
Baltimore. Since his cancer was announced in January, cards and letters have
not stopped arriving, still filling at least a carton a month. And that
doesnt include the daily logs of phone and e-mail messages. These
expressions of concern come from hundreds of bishops around the country, parish
priests and religious communities, as well as children, parents of children
that Murphy confirmed and others whose lives have been touched by his ministry.
Some convey stories more than 35 years old.
The power of so much prayer on his behalf hit Murphy like an
avalanche. For a man who had never been ill or spent a night in the
hospital since having his tonsils removed as a child, the news that he had
cancer and it had most likely spread to his liver was shocking. It
instantaneously alters your understanding of life and its meaning, he
said.
At first because of his sickness and pain, he said, he didnt
do much praying on his own, but felt lifted up by others
prayers. They took fear away from my heart, he said.
Its like people are not going to let anything happen to me. I was
not aware my ministry was so significant.
But it didnt take a cancer diagnosis to prompt others to
express their appreciation of that ministry. Before anyone knew cancer was in
Murphys future, his friends celebrated the 40th ordination anniversary
last December at St. Marys Seminary and University by presenting him with
$120,000 for a fund in his name to continue his work for peace, social justice
and charitable concerns.
Murphy, 66, talks about his life and ministry from the sunny
living room of the waterfront apartment his friends rented for him near the
hospital where he receives weekly chemotherapy treatments. They wanted to spare
him the 35-minute commute to his home in Columbia, Md. They also gave him the
healing view of Baltimores harbor and downtown skyline.
As Murphy, dressed in peach polo shirt, navy suspenders and tan
pants, spoke about his anniversary and all the prayers, tears filled his eyes.
It shows the value of the priesthood for the church when it is faithfully
lived. The acceptance of grace of that office has tremendous meaning for
people, way beyond ones human capacity.
Those touched by Murphys grace see a man who preaches with
his life. Frank Murphy needs no words because he is a living
gospel, said Gerry Cavanaugh, a nursing home chaplain and friend for the
last decade. Some of us never make a journey between Christian belief and
the imitation of Christ, but Frank Murphy has made that journey, and its
very evident in his life, both before his illness and throughout his
illness.
Cavanaugh and others emphasize Murphys gift for listening, a
gift the bishop acknowledged when he chose his motto: To listen to God
speaking in human words. In Murphy, Cavanaugh sees the face of
Christ through the hierarchy of the church, and thats a rarity as far as
Im concerned.
Maybe thats because being part of church hierarchy was never
Murphys goal. Growing up in Cumberland, a small town in the mountains of
western Maryland, he longed to be a parish priest. That dream was fulfilled in
1959 when he was appointed associate pastor at St. Bernadines parish in
Baltimore, but it was short-lived. After only two years he was sent to Rome for
the next four years as a faculty member of the North American College. In 1965
he left Rome for Baltimore to become secretary to Cardinal Lawrence Shehan. He
was ordained bishop in 1976, having never again served as parish priest.
As bishop, Murphy has developed the pastoral side of his calling,
but he also has become a passionate advocate for causes not always in line with
church hierarchy. An event in 1970 spurred support for one of his most
controversial concerns -- womens ordination.
While dining with friends, he found himself explaining the
discipline of celibacy, which called for avoiding friendships with women
since such relationships did not benefit my ministry nor allow me to be
as free as possible for the good of the kingdom of God. He was surprised
when a woman in the group said she was profoundly offended because
his remarks made her feel inferior. She resented being seen as a threat to his
vocation rather than a potential colleague in the fulfillment of it. Her
comments were a turning point in Murphys thinking.
I began to analyze for the first time my attitudes, my
tendency to stereotype women, my sexist language, he said.
Eventually I began to consider more seriously the place of women in the
church.
Murphy remembers well the first time he brought up the
womens ordination issue at a meeting of the National Conference of
Catholic Bishops. It was spring of 1978 in Chicago, and he had just proposed
forming a group to discuss the ordination question, sensing that the Vatican
was not allowing the bishops freedom to address it. He had barely finished
speaking when plaster from the ceiling broke loose and landed on several
bishops. They werent hurt, and Murphy doesnt remember if they were
pro-ordination or anti-ordination bishops, but telling the story now makes him
laugh.
No ceilings have fallen as a result of his words since then,
literally or figuratively, but he has continued to speak out. In a 1980 speech,
he used St. Pauls thoughts on mutual needs within the body, that the eye
cannot say to the hand: I do not need you.
The more universal integration of women into the church is
not an act of tolerance; it is an act of necessity, Murphy said.
There is something missing when the voice or the presence of women is not
impacting on the whole church.
In 1982, along with four other bishops, he challenged the
churchs patriarchal system. This system has deeply and adversely
influenced the church in its attitude toward women as reflected in its laws,
theology and ministries.
Murphy has called sexism a sin and relates it to racism. In
my lifetime, the church has evolved from an acceptance and practice of racism
to a very clear position of condemnation of this evil, he wrote in 1984.
Regarding the evil of sexism, we have not yet so clearly evolved in our
awareness of this issue.
In a 1992 essay, Murphy equated the issue of womens
ordination with the issue Paul raised with Peter, the admission of Gentiles
into Christianity. Womens calls, as well as mens, should be
tested, he said. Justice demands it. The pastoral needs of the
church require it.
Through it all, Murphy has maintained that bishops need to balance
their duty to church authority with their roles as pastors listening to their
flocks. He says the key to this is dialogue.
I look at my ministry through the lens of justice, the right
order of relationships, he said. Its like being a
long-distance runner. As a bishop Ive been speaking honestly, in the
proper form, what the truth was. Ive learned Ive given people hope
and I feel good about that part of my ministry.
Bishop Walter Sullivan of Richmond, Va., credits Murphy with
giving outstanding leadership to the National Conference of
Catholic Bishops. He is always willing to speak up on sensitive issues,
but he does so in a very gentle, loving way, he said.
Sullivan said Murphy may be known nationally as a champion for
womens rights in the church, but he also is respected by fellow bishops
for his pastoral leadership in the Baltimore archdiocese. Hes a
real peoples bishop, he said.
For now, though, much of Murphys active ministry must wait.
While not in serious pain, he occasionally has difficulty breathing and
walking. His weekly chemotherapy treatments, which will continue for several
months, leave him fatigued and unable to engage in much conversation for about
48 hours. His weight has dropped to 140 from 170. Because of his weakened
immune system, planning ahead is pointless. He expected to have a pleasant
visit with his sister at the beach in early July but ended up in bed with
pneumonia.
Its a whole new way of looking at life for a very
active public man to become a reclusive man, Murphy said. My hope
is that I will return to a certain quality of life, but with cancer you never
know when it will come back.
According to Dr. Marvin J. Feldman, chief of the division of
hematology and oncology at Mercy Medical Center in Baltimore, Murphys
most recent CAT scan showed that the tumors in his liver had been reduced and
in some cases eliminated. Feldman cautioned that because a tumor disappears, it
doesnt necessarily mean the cancer is gone -- it may mean cancer cells
just cant be seen by the scan. He said that Murphys cancer, which
originated in the small bowel before moving to the liver, is fairly uncommon.
Because each person responds differently to treatment, Feldman said he is
unable to make any predictions about the bishops life expectancy.
Asked about the relationship between Murphys improved CAT
scan and the outpouring of prayer on his behalf, Feldman said he couldnt
comment scientifically, but added that the influence of prayer is
definitely a possibility.
Personally I believe in the power of prayer, Feldman
said.
Murphy said he is resigned to the fact that his cancer can be
diminished but not eliminated. Others take a different approach. The Baltimore
Regional Community of the Sisters of Mercy has included the healing of Murphy
in their prayer for the beatification of their founder, Catherine McAuley.
The social justice crusader in Murphy looks forward to resuming
work for Interfaith Housing of Western Maryland, a group he founded in 1989 to
build affordable housing, and to chairing a committee for Beyond the
Boundaries, which connects parishes in the suburbs with churches in
Baltimores inner city.
Murphy said he also wants to continue as board member of the
Baltimore-based Institute for Christian/Jewish Studies. Bernard Manekin, one of
that organizations founders, said its hard not to get enthusiastic
about Murphy. He is highly regarded, respected and admired by people in
the Jewish community, he said. Ive learned from him the
unbelievable importance of faith. He is the total embodiment of what an
individual should be. He is really a total mensch (admirable person), which is
why he is so loved by people.
Rabbi Mark Loeb, an institute trustee, said that Murphy has helped
attract others to the organization. He credited Murphy with establishing
seminars to educate priests and Catholic schoolteachers about ways church
teaching contributed to the atmosphere that made the Holocaust possible.
Knowing Murphy, Loeb said, has changed his perception of the Catholic church.
The rabbi said he used to think Catholics accepted everything the pope said
without question, but now he sees the Roman church as a living organism
struggling with different ideas.
Fr. Arthur Valenzano, pastor of St. John Church in Westminster,
Md., is one of 45 priests in Murphys western vicariate. He sees in Murphy
a man of deep devotion to the church who treats everyone -- lay, vowed and
ordained -- as coworkers, all working for the kingdom of God.
Valenzano said Murphy never misses a priests meeting, which are held
about six times a year, and he makes all committee meetings and church
functions when his schedule allows, a practice he has tried to continue despite
his cancer.
Valenzano recalled that after the bishop left a recent meeting
early because of fatigue, the chairman expressed the sentiment of many.
Bishop Murphy is a national treasure, he said. I hope people
realize it. Not just for us, but for the whole church.
If you would like to send a message to Bishop P. Francis Murphy
you may e-mail him at the following address: fmurphy@archbalt.org
We are sorry to inform you that Bishop Murphy passed away
September 2, 1999. If you wish to send a message of condolence please contact
his secretary Sr. Delores Todd at DTodd@archbalt.org
National Catholic Reporter, August 27,
1999
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