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19 minute read
AN EDITOR LOOKS BACK
A WORD OF THANKS
BY BRENDAN MCCONVERY CSsR
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My memories of Reality go back to long before I was an editor. It goes back to the 1950s when I was a mere altar boy serving on the altar in Clonard Monastery, Belfast.
First published in November 1936 as The Redemptorist Record, Reality describes its mission as being to “inform, inspire, and challenge today’s Catholic.”
It evolved from a magazine that, in the 1950s, had a reputation for its stringent line on sexual matters to one that by the mid-1960s had become so ‘dangerous’ that Archbishop John Charles McQuaid felt it required three diocesan-appointed censors. We have had a fantastic, if, at times, colourful history.
The magazine was particularly proud of the part it played in trying to bring the vision and promise of Vatican II to the Irish faithful and of being a facility that allowed people to reflect on the myriad issues facing the Church at home and abroad – uncomfortable though some of these issues may sometimes have been.
Let us recall some of the early editors, Fr T A Murphy, who was the first editor; Frs Raphael Gallagher, Liam O Carroll; Brian Boyle; and Fr Gerard Moloney, to name but a few. Many had been on the foreign missions. Others began editing after other academic careers.
This year marks the end of an era for Reality and the Irish Redemptorists. It leaves behind many fine memories of people who have contributed to it over the decades. My thanks to all who played a part in its development and those who supported us over the years.
A native of Belfast, Brendan McConvery was editor of Reality from 2014-2020.
A FOND FAREWELL
BY TRIONA DOHERTY
The first article I ever wrote for Reality was titled ‘Goodbye to all that: Why young Catholics are leaving the church.’ It was May 2007, and I interviewed young people from primary school age up to young adults for the piece. I remember expecting to hear that they were disillusioned or angry with the church, that the abuse scandals of the preceding years had turned them off. Instead, the prevailing attitude was a kind of benign indifference. Many of them spoke of Mass being ‘boring’ and they didn’t appreciate being ‘forced’ to attend. Several predicted that they would reengage with the church at a later stage, perhaps when they got married or started a family. I wonder if this has turned out to be the case.
I wonder, too, what trends a similar article would uncover today; I suspect things would look very different. Fifteen years ago, social media was in its infancy. The climate movement had yet to become widespread. Few people had heard of Argentinian Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, and in Ireland we had not yet voted in the referenda on same-sex marriage and the Eighth Amendment. But the article shed light on the sense of crisis in the Irish church at the time, and on some ways in which parishes were reaching out to young people.
In another piece in the summer 2010 issue, a quote from a parish priest captured something of the mood: “The church exists on a lot of levels. There’s the institutional church that no one is in love with at the moment… But at the parish level the experience of church is a different thing.”
RANGE OF TOPICS
During my years as a Reality contributor, I’ve had the opportunity to speak to clergy and parishioners, theologians and activists across the island of Ireland on a broad range of topics – vocations, human trafficking, Catholic education, weddings, funerals, the environment, the challenges facing priests and parishioners, to name a few. With each interviewee, another rich layer of church life was uncovered. I always hoped that readers found comfort and hope in these discoveries, as I did. Some standout moments for me were interviews with Rev Ken Newell about his peace ministry in Northern Ireland, and more recently with Fr Roman Lahish about the efforts of the Redemptorist community in Novoiavorivsk, Ukraine to support victims of the war. I’m indebted to both Gerard Moloney and Brendan McConvery for kindly inviting me to write.
The example and guidance of both these editors served me well when I was asked to step in temporarily as acting editor in 2017, and then to take up the role again from March 2022. As the first lay editor, I was eager to live up to the legacy encapsulated in Reality’s tagline of ‘Informing, Inspiring, Challenging Today’s Catholic,’ while introducing some fresh voices into the mix (and ensuring a gender balance on the ‘Reflections’ page!).
In recent months, we’ve been following the synodal process currently underway in the global and local church. The Irish Synodal Pathway is posing the question: ‘What does God want from the church in Ireland at this time?’ For many Catholics, this marks the first time their voices have been sought and listened to. It will take time for the ‘journeying together’ model to become ingrained in the life of the church, but there is a sense of opportunity.
Another green shoot that has been explored in the pages of Reality is the mobilisation of Christians worldwide in response to the call of Pope Francis in Laudato Si’ to care for our common home and work for climate justice. It’s also been a pleasure in recent editions to feature the reflections of former editor Raphael Gallagher in collaboration with Aoife McGrath, as they tease out moral questions around issues like political correctness and gender.
NOT SHY
Reality has never shied away from meeting the challenges of the age head on. Irish society has a unique and sometimes contradictory relationship with the Catholic Church. There have been huge changes since the turn of the millennium. While the numbers availing of the sacraments remain high, this is no longer reflected in Mass attendance and participation in church life. The Covid-19 pandemic has changed religious habits in ways we might not yet fully appreciate, and the church’s role in our rapidly evolving society is unclear. Reality has been at the forefront of these and countless other discussions over the past 86 years.
As we say a fond farewell in this December edition, it’s a sad and emotional time for all who have been involved in the magazine’s production. Since the decision was made to cease publication, we’ve been hearing from readers and contributors about what it has meant to them over the years and how much it will be missed. While of course some excellent religious publications are still available, the unfortunate reality is that the numbers are dwindling. However, religious publishing is thriving in other forms, with new avenues being explored by Redemptorist Communications as it continues the vital work of spreading the Gospel.
On a personal note, I’d like to warmly thank the editors, designers, contributors, readers and all the extended members of the Redemptorist family with whom I’ve worked over the years. I wish you every blessing and hope our paths will cross again in the future.
VATICAN II, A NEW-LOOK MAG, AND JOHN CHARLES MCQUAID
THE PERIOD DURING AND AFTER VATICAN II WAS AN EXCITING TIME IN THE CHURCH’S LIFE. REALITY’S THEN-EDITOR RECALLS THOSE HEADY DAYS AND THE BATTLES WITH BISHOPS AND CENSORS THAT ULTIMATELY COST HIM HIS JOB
BY FR MICHAEL O’CONNOR, CSsR
From the beginning of John XXIII’s pontificate, significant developments began to happen in my life as a young priest and Redemptorist. I was a member of the Esker, Athenry community at the time Cardinal Giuseppe Roncalli was elected to the chair of Peter. A few months later, in January 1959, John XXIII announced a General Council of the church. In due time he formally closed the first Vatican Council and declared the new Council would be Vatican II. Nothing has been quite the same in the life of the church, or my life, since then.
Soon afterwards, I was transferred to Clonard monastery, Belfast, where I joined the staff of Redemptorist Record, our Redemptorist monthly publication. Father Liam O’Carroll was editor, Fr Tom Ring, was his assistant, and I was the staff! Before long, Fr Tom became editor, and I was his assistant.
After about a year, Redemptorist Publications moved to Rathgar in Dublin. By the time we were settled in our new accommodation, preparations for the Council were nearing completion, and I had been appointed editor of Redemptorist Record and director of publications, with Fr Gerry Reynolds as assistant editor.
The joyous optimism and Pentecostal spirit of Saint John XXIII permeated every corner of the church and indeed the world - the corridors and offices of the curia being the only possible exception. During the Council’s early months, we carried a regular conciliar column by Gary McEoin, a founding member
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Vatican II in session
of the National Catholic Reporter newspaper in the US, and we published regular commentary on the Council’s proceedings written especially for us by Archbishop Angelo Fernandez of Delhi. Columns by Irish journalists in Rome for the Council also appeared regularly in our pages.
TIME OF FERMENT
More and more, Redemptorist Record was taking on the mission of bringing the teaching of the Council to our readers. It was, of course, a time of ferment and controversy not only among scholars and commentators but also among bishops, depending on their comfort zone on the continuum between Tridentine conservatives on the right and the liberal scholarly but sometimes leftleaning progressives on the other side. In his remarks at the opening of the Council, Pope John said: “We feel we must disagree with those prophets of gloom, who are always forecasting disaster, as though the end of the world were at hand.” And he went on: “In the present order of things, Divine Providence is leading us to a new order of human relations which by (human) efforts and even by (our) very expectations, are
directed towards the fulfilment of God’s superior and inscrutable designs. And everything, even human differences, lead to the greater good of the church.”
As the Council progressed, we tried to keep our readers informed by publishing commentaries on its documents as they were published. These were written mainly by Fr Sean Kelleher, C.Ss.R., Professor of Systematic Theology at the Redemptorist seminary in Bangalore. Frs Sean O’Riordan, Gerry Crotty, and Joe Murphy were among other Redemptorists who kept readers informed on the Council.
CHANGE OF PURPOSE
Traditionally, our magazine had been an extension of our Redemptorist missions and articulated our vocation as parish missioners and preachers of the Gospel. It was an effective way of staying in touch with the congregations who attended our parish missions and keeping them informed of our work in Australia, the Philippines, India, and Brazil. It had served its purpose well, but in the fervour of the Conciliar sessions, we felt called to refocus the purpose of Redemptorist Publications into a more direct commitment to renew the life of the church.
Between the Council’s first and second sessions, after discussions with some Irish journalists who had covered the opening session, we decided to publish a new magazine primarily concerned with promoting the renewal of church according to the teaching of the Council. These experienced journalists offered to organise a dedicated lay board of associate editors who would ensure the high standard of publication that we desired. During the years that I continued as editor of what we called Reality, we were privileged to have distinguished journalists of the calibre of John Horgan, Louis McRedmond, Michael Viney, Maeve Binchy, Miriam Hederman, Andy Hamilton, and others as our collaborators.
CENSORED
To the best of my recollection, the announcement of Reality as a project to propagate the renewal that the Council called for was welcomed by many bishops as well as by the vast majority of our readers. Cardinal Conway and Archbishop Walsh of Tuam wrote letters of welcome and encouragement in the first issue of Reality.
The situation in Dublin was different. Archbishop John Charles McQuaid tolerated but did not approve of the project. Since our arrival in the archdiocese, although a Redemptorist’s name appeared in each issue of the magazine as the “censor theol. dep.,” everything had to be approved by the diocesan censor. Msgr Michael O’Connell was our diocesan censor, and he informed me that Archbishop McQuaid was not happy with the project.
The archbishop was not pleased that laypeople were deciding the magazine’s content, he was not pleased that we had invited women on the board of associate editors, and he was not pleased that we had invited as associate editors some who were not Roman Catholics. To show his displeasure, he appointed three censors - two operated in secret - to ensure the orthodoxy of what would be published. Only Msgr. O’Connell was known to me, and I had to give him three copies of all material we intended to publish.
Needless to say, that was not a happy situation. Often when permission to publish was refused, the only reason given was that his Grace would not like to see that material in print. When I objected that that was
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Bronze relief by Carmelo Puzzolo representing the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Gabriel the Archangel
not a canonical reason, I was told merely that I had been refused permission to publish—end of discussion.
IMMACULATE CONCEPTION
One year, in preparation for Christmas, I invited scripture scholar Fr Michael Bailey, C.Ss.R., to write some articles on the new interpretations of the infancy narratives. His first article, which focused mainly on Joseph’s role in Matthew’s infancy narrative, passed the “gimlet eyes” of the three censors and appeared in the November issue. His second article, which dealt mainly with Mary, was refused permission to be published.
In the ensuing controversy, Msgr O’Connell informed me that Fr Bailey’s translation of the archangel’s words to Mary rejected the church’s teaching on the Immaculate Conception. The problem was that Fr Bailey used what was then a new translation, “Hail, thou highly favoured daughter,” and not the traditional, “Hail, full of grace,” which the censors took to prove the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Michael O’Connell wouldn’t listen to any argument and told me simply the article could not be published.
An added irony was that Time magazine that December carried a story on the three wise men which questioned and undermined the entire infancy narratives. Would it not have been a wiser pastoral decision to allow a Catholic scripture scholar to have discussed the new insights and understandings in our commentary on the infancy narratives than to have Irish people be confronted by the dismissive article in Time? But that was how it was back then when some churchmen were doggedly refusing to face reality.
This way of operating frustrated our efforts to produce the kind of magazine we had envisioned. The board of editors met quarterly to plan the three issues for the coming quarter. Then individual associate editors would take responsibility for inviting competent authors to write the lead articles. But we found ourselves in the embarrassing situation where we could not guarantee publication
because of this unreasonable and arrogant form of diocesan censorship.
This was an especially sensitive matter in the area of ecumenism. Looking back, it is amazing that we succeeded as well as we did in the face of such highhanded hierarchical control. Our circulation had topped 50 thousand in those years. Despite the frustrations, our associate editors gave us nothing but loyal support, encouragement, and cooperation, for which I will always be most grateful.
BEGINNING OF THE END
The beginning of the end came for me after some men and women religious and some parents expressed concern about the requirement that children’s Masses in the Dublin archdiocese be celebrated not in English, their actual mother tongue, as was requested by Vatican II, but in Irish, a language in which unfortunately they had little fluency. These were children who, in the mid 60s, were emigrating in great numbers to the English-speaking world. Nevertheless, at the request of those primarily interested in the revival of the Irish language, the Archbishop of Dublin had required that such children’s Masses should be celebrated throughout the diocese in the
Irish language.
I pointed out in an editorial that this was neither according to the mind nor the intention of the Second Vatican Council. When Vatican II called for the reform and renewal of the liturgy, it recommended celebrating the Mass in the vernacular, the spoken language of the people. In the restoration and promotion of the sacred liturgy, the Council said that “(the) full, conscious and active participation by all the people is to be considered before all else; for it is a primary and indispensable source from which the faithful are to derive the true Christian spirit, and therefore, pastors of souls must strive to achieve it, by means of the necessary instruction, in all their pastoral work.”
Archbishop McQuaid was not amused at having this pointed out to him. He accused me of usurping his episcopal authority. When I requested an interview to explain my position, he replied that it would serve no purpose. He informed me that my major religious superior was dealing with the matter. The concept of dialogue so characteristic of the church in the immediate postVatican II era did not exist in the Dublin archdiocese of the time.
EXILE
A few months later, I found myself proclaiming the Gospel and the joyous renewal of the Second Vatican Council to the priests and wonderful people of the West Indies. My life as a priest and Redemptorist had taken on a new reality but was still inspired by the optimism of Saint John XXIII, who said: “Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.”
That spirit of Johannine optimism has continued to inspire me during my years as a university teacher and as a psychotherapist in the USA, and as a priest in residence at St Thomas More parish in Kansas City, Missouri.
A Kerry native, Fr Michael O’Connor is a member of the Redemptorist community, Mt St Alphonsus, Limerick.
This article originally appeared in the November 2011 issue of Reality
MY BRUISING ENCOUNTER WITH THE VATICAN
MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE CONGREGATION FOR THE DOCTRINE OF THE FAITH LEFT ME SHOCKED AND SHAKEN
BY GERARD MOLONEY CSsR
My life changed on a sunny afternoon in May 2011. My Redemptorist provincial superior invited me for a quick chat. What he reported left me flabbergasted.
He said a discussion had been ongoing for some time about my position as editor of Reality magazine. People in the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), the chief enforcer of orthodoxy in the Vatican, were unhappy with some of the magazine’s content. The Redemptorist superior general in Rome had been instructed to have me removed as editor.
My superior went on to say that he and the superior general had lobbied hard on my behalf and had been able to hammer out a compromise. I could remain as editor subject to five conditions: I could not publish anything that was 1) supportive of the ordination of women, 2) critical of mandatory celibacy, 3) advocated general absolution, 4) opposed to the church’s stance on homosexuality, and 5) could be seen as disrespectful of the person of the Holy Father. Furthermore, each issue would have to be approved by a censor before publication. (Later, of course, they targeted Fr Tony Flannery whose Reality column caused them much agitation).
I was told this had been negotiated in talks at the highest level over the previous several weeks. I was being informed now because the superior general was coming to Dublin to see me in a couple of days’ time.
I was also instructed to keep this information to myself, that it was highly confidential, and I shouldn’t talk about it even to my family.
And that was it. I left the meeting with my head spinning.
The superior general did visit soon after and told me the story from scratch, how one day a file landed on his desk from the CDF with a list of allegations/findings against me in my capacity as editor of Reality magazine. The superior general could not have been friendlier and expressed amazement at the shoddy case the CDF had put together. He had met several times with Cardinal Levada, head of the CDF, and the best compromise they could reach was to leave me in office but under the restrictions outlined above.
Again the importance of secrecy was emphasised. It was not a matter for public consumption. I was not to talk to anyone about it.
And that was it.
During those first few days, I felt numb. It was almost as if they were talking about someone else, not me. I found it extraordinary that people in the Vatican were getting worked up about an insignificant magazine published on the periphery of Europe. I couldn’t believe people would spend time trawling through back issues looking for evidence to build or substantiate a case against me. I found it hard to credit that the head of the CDF would become personally involved.
It took a while for the enormity of what happened to sink in. I grant that a tiny bit of me was chuffed that the Vatican had noticed our magazine and got themselves in a lather over it. But then I began to feel angry and betrayed. I was angry not so much that self-appointed defenders of the faith had reported me to the Vatican but that they had been given such credence. I was angry that the authorities would begin a process against me without letting me know I was being investigated.
How can you defend yourself if you don’t know you are on trial? How can you defend yourself if you don’t know who your accusers are? How can you defend yourself when your fate has been decided before you discover you have been on trial?
I found it hard to believe I had been walking around for weeks, doing my regular work while my future was being discussed without my knowledge. It demonstrates how unjust the CDF process is.
All communication was through my superiors. The CDF never communicates directly with the person under investigation. They knew my address, they knew my email, they could find my phone number, but they always go through higher channels. They never dignify the culprit with a direct and personal response. It’s not how Jesus would have done it.
It’s been more than eight years since I woke up with chronic lower back pain that has never gone away. I wonder how much of it is due to my bruising encounter with the CDF.