of Deceased Salesians
Feb. 1, 2020
Heb 11: 1-3, 8-10, 13-16Provincial House, New Rochelle, N.Y.
In the proper calendar of the Salesians,
Feb. 1 is the Commemoration of the Deceased Members of the Salesian Society—an
SDB all souls day.
The
reading from the Letter to the Hebrews testifies to the faith of “the
ancients,” of “the men of old,” as the RSV phrases it, and “our ancestors” as
other translations render hoi presbuteroi, literally “the elders”
(11:2). The selection we read cites only
Abraham, mentioning Isaac and Jacob in passing.
Verses passed over pay tribute to Abel, Enoch, and Noah (11:4-7) before
Abraham, and later in the chapter to Jacob, Moses at length (11:21-29), and
quick mention of Rahab (the only woman in the bunch), the Judges, Samuel,
David, and the prophets (11:31-38). “All
these died in faith,” the writer states (11:13), after living as aliens of one
kind or another in the land to which the Lord pointed them, yet looking toward
something better, looking in faith. The
sacred author posits—without historical accuracy but with Christian faith—that
those heroes of the Old Law desired a heavenly homeland (11:16). Today’s passage concludes with God’s
“preparing a city for them” (11:16), which would be the new Jerusalem.
In
her Jan. 23 WSJ column,[1] Peggy
Noonan writes of our Founding Fathers, “It’s good to be reminded that for all
our flaws as a nation and a people, we came from something magnificent and are
the heirs of that magnificence.” That’s
true for us as Salesians, too.
On
this day after the feast of our founder, we also remember the men of old, our
Salesian forefathers, the presbuteroi, men of heroic faith, men who developed
and left to us something magnificent.
How many of them, like Abraham, set off for an unseen land of which
they’d only heard—Patagonia, New York, India, China—in many cases without any
expectation of ever returning to their families or earthly homeland. They did so as men of vision, carrying
forward Don Bosco’s vision of evangelization, bringing God’s saving love to the
young, to immigrants, to native peoples, to ancient civilizations older than
the West’s but as yet ignorant of our Lord Jesus.
 |
| Bp. Ernest Coppo in 1922 |
We
remember today our ancestors, the men who made our province, renowned men (among
us, anyway): men like Bp. Coppo, Abp.
Pittini, Ambrose Rossi, Ernest Giovannini, Frank Klauder, Ed Cappelletti;
saintly men like Bro. Nassetta,
Bro. Gambaro, Bro. Oscar, Bro. Traina; men we were privileged to live with in
this house like Bill Kelley, Diego Borgatello, Mark Ferrito, Andy LaCombe, and
Bruno Busatto; and men all of us lived with in other houses—some of them
saints, some men of awe-inspiring zeal and perspicacity, some of them difficult
to live with and so helping us grow in patience and wisdom.
The
ghosts of our provincial residence ancestors may still be with us. If Richard ever feels a strange presence in
his office (besides his own, I mean), it could be because Diego and his boys
dwelt there for 25 years. Dave works
with the shadow of Bill Kelley over his shoulder, while Dennis has Jim Naughton
and Gerald keeping tabs on him. Bill
Ferruzzi may hear an occasional liturgical cough or a whispered, “Good Father,
let me explain something to you.” I hope
Phil and Bob are inspiring me in the archives.
We hope Tim is inspired by the giants whose images abide on the wall
outside his office; they weren’t all giants, of course—but I named earlier 4
who were.
How
many of our province ancestry we barely remember at all because they were here
so very long ago, and at most we pass by their gravestones once a year; or not
at all if they’re not in Goshen; or we don’t remember because they ministered
so quietly, so humbly, maybe in a community we had no occasion to visit, or we
saw them only when they came to Newton for the provincial’s feastday. Who shall say how effective all these were,
bringing God’s love to parishioners, students, parents, FMAs, Cooperators,
DBVs, SLMs, and the peoples of mission lands?
 |
| Salesian Cemetery, Goshen, N.Y. |
Heroic,
faith-filled, visionary, unforgettable, humble—those qualities don’t mean these
our confreres, American, Canadian, or of any other nation, don’t need our
prayers. We recognize that most of them
were men very much like us in their strengths and weaknesses, their virtues and
vices, and all of us would say that we need prayers. That’s why we remember our brothers every day
through the necrology; that’s why we have this special annual day of prayer for
them, as well as one at every retreat.
Even
as we pray for them, and undoubtedly later we’ll recall in conversation the
wacky ways of some of them, or their faults (in spite of one point in our
community plan of life about that), we can also discern what was admirable
about so many of them—not only those we call saints but so many others—and
discern them as models for our own behavior, speech, apostolic boldness, and
far-sightedness: hoping for what we
haven’t seen (cf. 11:1), looking toward the heavenly Jerusalem and the Salesian
garden within it, and asking their help that we, too, will be faithful to our
calling and our mission.
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