The Splinter, the Missionary, the Martyr

Three priests from around the world died this week, all with a connection to Pittsburgh, all whom I knew.  They witness to both the human and divine dimensions of the Catholic Church.

C. William Hausen died on Sunday, February 17.  He was 77.  Ordained by Bishop Wright for the Catholic Diocese of Pittsburgh in 1965, he served in several parishes.  For 12 years he was the pastor of St. Joseph Parish, Mt. Oliver, in the city of Pittsburgh.  I followed him in that neighborhood, years after he was transferred and years after the parish was merged (with three others) into St. John Vianney Parish.  Even though Bill had been out of the area for a decade, there were many parishioners who spoke about his kindnesses, his visits to the hospital and shut-ins, his homilies.  In the four years I was at St. John Vianney I bumped into him several times at local funeral homes, as he came to pay his respects to parishioners he knew who had died, and their families.

In 2002 Bill gave an inflammatory sermon at St. James Parish, Sewickley, calling for changes in the Catholic Church and threatening to start a new church.  He was removed from the parish, and turned up at Sacred Heart, Shadyside, where he served for the first time (and so well) after being ordained.  Then two years later he left Sacred Heart, and publicly broke from the Catholic Church.  He started "Christ Hope Ecumenical Catholic Church," holding services that looked very much like a Catholic Mass in a Sewickley motel.  

Bill got some press, some positive, some not, after his breakaway.  The diocesan legal eagles issued a "Notification" stating that Father Hausen incurred an automatic excommunication from the Catholic Church "having refused all offers of reconciliation extended by the Diocesan Bishop."  Father Ron Lengwin, diocesan spokesperson, said that reconciliation was always possible.  We never throw anyone out of the church, he said.  Father Hausen has removed himself.

A lengthy article about Bill and the Christ Hope Church in the Pittsburgh City Paper, dated November 6, 2008, caught what had been well-known clerical gossip.   Bill was an alcoholic, and had been in recovery.  The merger of the parish which he loved, he said, turned his moderate drinking into heavy drinking.  On a sabbatical at Notre Dame University in 1993, he came to admit his problem with alcohol, sought treatment, and joined AA.  

But one paragraph is brutally honest:  "Hausen remembers the next years as a difficult time filled with introspective study and questions about his faith.  He became further involved in AA, and attended meetings more frequently.  But he also continued to battle alcohol abuse."

Bill's first Mass at Christ Hope Church drew 300 people.  But I heard after a few months attendance dropped to a few dozen loyal friends, never increasing.

Two summers ago I was participating in a minor protest on the South Side.  I was the only Catholic priest, among several Christian clergypersons--all the usual suspects.  As we were having the pre-meeting to go over the ground rules of the protest, to my surprise into the room walked Bill Hausen.  His hair was disheveled,  he wore a ordinary black shirt with some kind of white paper stuck across his neck, evidently imitating a clerical collar--and he was drunk.  It was 11 am.  I greeted him, introducing myself.  But it was obvious he didn't remember me.  The other clergy avoided him.   The next day I called Ron Lengwin to tell him about my encounter.  Ron said to me, if you only knew how many times and in how many ways Bishops Wuerl and Zubik have tried to reach out to Bill these past years.  

On Monday all the parishes in our diocese got a "blast fax" from our bishop.  It read:  

"My dear brother priests and deacons:  I was notified over the weekend that Bill Hausen had died.  As you know, Bill left the Church nine years ago to establish his own community.  I always held out hope for his reconciliation, but unfortunately that did not happen.  Bill left instructions that there be no viewing and no religious service at his death and that he be cremated.  Please remember Bill Hausen in your Masses and in your prayers."

As I was writing this blog, I checked the website of Christ Hope Church.  There was no mention of Bill's death.  Only an invitation to their Christmas Eve and Christmas Day Masses.

Bill, may you find the peace you so longed for and could not find here on earth. 

Jules Roos died on Saturday, February 16, in Chimbote, Peru.  He was 82.   Ordained in 1956 by Bishop Dearden, his first priestly assignment was here in New Castle, at St. Joseph the Worker Parish. In 1964 he received permission to join the St. James Society, a Boston-based group of diocesan priests who did missionary work in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia.  He was assigned to Chimbote.  It was his last, and best, assignment.

Two years later, upset by the many emergency baptisms he was performing for babies dying after being born in the local hospital in unhealthy conditions, he and another missionary priest from San Diego opened a maternity hospital.  Later he expanded the hospital to include a social works center.  He received the help of several Pittsburgh Sisters of Mercy over the years, and in particular worked closely with two Dominican Sisters from Grand Rapids, Michigan, Sisters Margaret Mary Birchmeier and Lillian Bockheim.  

Jules was indefatigable   He lived a very simple life, moved out of a parish into a tiny apartment adjacent to the maternity hospital, and devoted himself to the poor of Chimbote.

Jules's good friend was Father (now Msgr.) John Kozar.  John was running annual mission trips to Chimbote in the 1970s and 80s, to encourage support for Roos and the maternity hospital.  In 1983, I approached John to go on the next one.  

I still remember our first meeting before our trip, and introduction to the "Wild West" life of missionaries.  Kozar had instructed the two dozen of us pilgrims to bring a bottle of alcohol to the meeting.  He would use it to assist (a.k.a. bribe) customs officers in Peru, as he shipped enormous quantities of medicine and medical equipment to the maternity hospital.  

The maternity hospital in Chimbote itself was merely a Quonset hut, with 32 single iron beds.  No walls or curtains separated the beds.  A bathroom was at one end of the hut.  The compound had various storage rooms and a laboratory which might have been state of the art in the 1930s.    But the hospital itself was sparkling clean,  the aides were very friendly, and the smiles of the moms said they were glad to be there.  

Jules was humility itself, always self-deprecatory, with an ironic and cynical sense of humor.  Jules's humility was legendary.  The story goes that once in the 1970s he flew up to Pittsburgh, to do some fundraising.  Then Bishop Leonard heard he was in town, called him and invited him to the bishop's house at Warwick Terrace for dinner.

Jules arrived in typical black suit and clergy shirt.  The bishop expressed surprise when he saw Jules and exclaimed, "Jules, I didn't know you owned a black suit or clergy shirt!"

In 1991 I went back to Chimbote on another Kozar mission trip.  The compound had grown, but the same spirit remained.  It was the 25th anniversary of the maternity hospital, and in the second week of the trip Bishop Wuerl flew down for a celebratory Mass and banquet in the biggest hotel in Chimbote.  

I treasure those trips, because from those experiences I know that all the kind words said about Jules Roos in his lengthy obituary in the Pittsburgh Catholic are true, true, true.

A few years ago Bishop Wuerl surprised Jules at one of the annual fundraising dinners for the Chimbote Foundation to support the maternity hospital by announcing that the Vatican had honored him with the title of  "Monsignor."  Jules squirmed in the spotlight, but accepted it.  A couple of days later, I bumped into Jules in the diocesan building.  I greeted him warmly, and said, "Monsignor, it's great to see you."  Without missing a beat Jules said, "Frank, let's not let a title come between our friendship."  

Jules, may you enjoy the reward of your missionary labors, with all the saints in heaven.

Evaristus Mushi was murdered on Sunday, February 17, in Zanzibar, East Africa.  He was 56.  His bishop said that two men on motorcycles  followed Father Mushi, blocked his way, shot and killed him near his parish church.  

Zanzibar is a group of Indian Ocean islands which are part of Tanzania.  

A Protestant pastor, Rev. Matthew Kachira, was killed February 10, the Vatican's Fides news agency reported.  Also another diocesan priest, Father Ambrose Mkenda, was shot and seriously wounded on Christmas Day, and is still in the hospital.

A group called "Muslim Renewal" claimed responsibility for the shootings.  

I would not have paid any attention to this killing, I'm sad to say, except when I saw in this morning's Pittsburgh Tribune-Review that Father Evaristus had done studies at Duquesne University.  He earned a master's degree in education in 2001.  He resided at Incarnation of the Lord Parish, Observatory Hill/North Side, and St. Pius X Parish, Brookline, during his stay in Pittsburgh.  Later he served for a time in two parishes in the Diocese of St. Petersburg, Florida.  

Although I can't pinpoint any encounter, after seeing Father Evaristus's photo I have a vague recollection of having met him.  My friend, Father Jim Garvey, used to hold an annual "goat dinner" for all the priests and sisters from Africa who were studying in Pittsburgh.  He would cook the goat himself, and enjoyed seeing the  clergy enjoying food from "back home."  It may have been at one of these gatherings that I met him.  Again, it's only vague, but my recollection is of a gentle and soft-spoken man.

In the Tribune-Review article this morning, Jack Miller, a parishioner at Incarnation, and now a deacon at St. Teresa of Avila Parish, Ross, "said he and Mushi discussed the possibility that being a Catholic priest would make him a target in Zanzibar.  'Here we have our squabbles, but when you think about the possibility of being killed for your faith, it puts things into perspective.  I think, even then, he knew that could happen.'"

In a posting on his blog, Bishop Robert Lynch of St. Petersburg 
wrote, "We remember Father Evaristus as an extremely kind, generous, and genuinely holy priest who helped us out here for three years before returning to his country of Tanzania.  He may well be a martyr for the faith.  But for now his parishioners, family and friends mourn this senseless act of violence and pray for the peaceful repose of his soul."

Evaristus, may the angels lead you into paradise, and may the martyrs welcome you home.