The following is a presentation by David Schimmel, retired director of the Dehonian Associates, and a former member of the Priests of the Sacred Heart. It was given at Sacred Heart Seminary and School of Theology on the morning of the Feast of the Sacred Heart, June 27. Many of those in attendance were members of the Esprit de Coeur – alumni of SCJ seminaries as well as former members of the community – who were in Milwaukee for a reunion.

The title of David’s presentation: “The Legacy of Fr. Dehon.”

 

A call to the priesthood

A young Leo Dehon felt a call to priesthood.  His father said, “Nothing doing.”  He wanted his son to have a respectable occupation, like a career in science or engineering.  After all, the Catholic Church didn’t do itself any favors by supporting the monarchy before, during, and after the French Revolution, and insisting that there should be no separation between Church and State.  To please his father, Leo got a degree in civil law and the license to practice.  This is not what he wanted.

Leo finally prevailed over his father’s opposition and studied for the priesthood in Rome and while there, collected doctorates in philosophy, theology, and canon law.  After ordination, he set his sights on a professorship at a Catholic University, but his bishop assigned him as the seventh assistant pastor in a parish of mostly factory workers.  This surprise assignment, Fr. Dehon wrote, “was absolutely contrary to what I had desired for years—a life of recollection and study.”  Making the best of this assignment, he attempted to understand and then address the root causes of so much misery brought about by the Industrial Revolution: child labor, inadequate housing, insufficient wages, lack of safety standards, and no health or retirement benefits.  His initial response was to spread the facts by publishing a Catholic newspaper and supporting youth by opening St. Joseph’s Center.  So appalled by the misery that he witnessed, his first Christmas sermon excoriated the inhumane practices of the factory owners and the violent protests of the workers.  This didn’t go over very well and he quickly learned that public shaming was not the way to effect change.

The start of the congregation

Feeling more and more overwhelmed by work and sensing a personal need for greater spiritual support, he considered joining a religious community.  He did not want, however, to abandon his initiatives in social ministry.  In consultation with his bishop, Fr. Dehon formed his own religious Congregation with the commitment that it would staff a boys’ high school.  The eventual success of St. John’s Institute was so great that other academic institutions in the area did not appreciate the competition and tried to sabotage the school.

For being both a civil and canon lawyer, Leo Dehon, now “John of the Heart of Jesus,” was a little sloppy in articulating the spiritual foundation for the Oblates of the Heart of Jesus.  After only five years of existence, the mix of poor judgment and a naïve reliance on supernatural phenomena was enough for the Vatican to suppress the Oblates.  Dehon’s bishop came to his aid, partly because of Dehon’s sincerity, but also because he did not want to lose the successful school.  Rome reconsidered and allowed the community to reestablish under a new name, the Priests of the Heart of Jesus.

Six years later, this same bishop, relying on misinformation, insisted that the Priests of the Heart of Jesus merge with a more established Congregation.  Although this was not to his liking, Fr. Dehon made several sincere, but unsuccessful attempts to make this happen.  With a new bishop in the diocese, life did not get easier.  Willing to believe unsubstantiated rumors, probably fueled by jealousy, this bishop stripped Fr. Dehon of his authority as rector of St. John’s Institute, and temporarily as Superior General of the Congregation.

In 1902, an anti-Catholic French government took control of the educational system, expelled many religious communities, including the Congregation of the Priests of the Heart of Jesus, and confiscated their properties.  As a civil lawyer, Fr. Dehon put up a good legal fight, but eventually he had to buy back two properties with his own money, making him the personal owner.

 

Catholic social justice

As a champion of workers’ rights, Fr. Leo John Dehon wholeheartedly promoted the Catholic social doctrine articulated by Pope Leo XIII, but resistance was formidable.  Organizing meetings of priests to educate them regarding this social doctrine produced stern protests such as a “synod without a bishop,” and “revolutionary priests anxious to throw off the yoke of discipline.”  A group of French bishops strongly opposed his 14-year involvement in annual meetings for seminarians at a textile factory to study contemporary problems and respond accordingly.  When Fr. Dehon tried several times to prod the Third Order of St. Francis into a renewal that would embrace its original involvement in social activity, he was called a revolutionary because his words had “a democratic twist.”

And within his own foundation, Fr. Dehon was exasperated at the lethargy of some of its members, remarking, “You’d think I founded a Congregation of armchairs!”

Then came the destruction of World War I.  Fr. Dehon worried about his religious community and its members who were forced to serve in the French and German armies.  By the end of the war, 23 members of the Priests of the Heart of Jesus from Germany and 10 from France lost their lives.  The high school and other properties were heavily damaged.  Several months after the war ended, Fr. Dehon returned to St. Quentin, where he had begun his religious Congregation and established the boys’ high school.  He wrote, “The sight devasted me.  I had never seen anything like it in my life.  It was a desolate pile of ruins.”

The ever-changing path of our lives

All of which to say, his life did not always turn out the way he expected or planned.  Much like most of us, who had our sights set on priesthood or brotherhood with the Priests of the Sacred Heart.  For one young man who was scheduled to join my freshman class at Divine Heart Seminary, he arrived and left the same day!  But most took more time to discern that this was not the commitment for them—some deciding before taking vows, some after a few years in vows, and others after ordination.

You wouldn’t be here today if you did not feel some connection with the SCJs and those who moved with you through the seminary system.  It’s flattering for the SCJs to believe that they passed on to us their spirit that has influenced our lives long after we parted ways with them.  I surmise, however, that it is probably more accurate to say that each of us already possessed within ourselves, however vaguely, a spirit of generosity, altruism, initiative, creativity, and love for life.  Likely, individual SCJs recognized in us a kindred spirit which they tended and fanned into flame.  The process may have been unconscious and surely unstated, but they helped us recognize our inner spirit, and helped us know what to do with it.  When we moved beyond the SCJs, we didn’t necessarily take something with us that we didn’t have before we met the SCJs, but we left with what we had brought with us confirmed, strengthened, and celebrated.  This may not have been so evident if our departure was sad, upsetting, confusing, or disappointing, but with some distance and perspective, we sensed this was the case.

So, what is this SCJ spirit, which somehow aligned with our own individual spirits?  I think it can be summarized in the name of the Congregation—and the name is not Dehonians.  However convenient this choice of name may be for marketing purposes, in my not-so-humble opinion, Fr. Dehon would vehemently oppose it.  He would not want people to refer to the religious Congregation he founded by using his name, principally because it obscures the spirituality of the community, namely, Priests of the Heart of Jesus. 

Jesus.  Fr. Dehon was not in love with an idea; he was in love with a person.  Favoring a phrase from St. Paul’s Letter to the Galatians, Dehon tries to articulate his experience saying, “The life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” [Galatians 2:20].  That is to say, he felt loved—personally, intensely, and completely.  He kept before himself this awareness and his desire to respond reciprocally by his choice of a religious name: John of the Heart of Jesus.  Fr. Dehon wanted to become a beloved disciple like the apostle John, who laid his head on Jesus’ chest at the Last Supper and kept vigil beneath the cross during Jesus’ agonizing death.  This relationship with Jesus sustained him through every success and disappointment.

Heart As the Industrial Revolution continued to create wealth for a few and poverty for many, Fr. Dehon looked for solutions that were inspired by God’s love symbolized in the Heart of Jesus.  In one of the many meditation books that Fr. Dehon composed, he imagined what Jesus wanted us to know.  Speaking in Jesus’ name, he writes, “My Heart was filled with love for all, and when this love encountered misfortune, it became compassion: for mercy overflows when a very loving heart confronts overwhelming misery.  This profound and active compassion was one of the underlying motives for my actions.  This is why I came to earth.”  Fr. Dehon felt a calling to become one with the Heart of Jesus—to feel with his Heart and to act according to his Heart—particularly to defend the underprivileged, who long for a dignified life.

Priest Recall that the original name of the Congregation was “Oblates,” but this was for Fr. Dehon a concession to northern French sensibilities.  He would have preferred a community called “Victims.”  For Fr. Dehon, victim, oblate, and priest are synonyms.  Contrary to popular assumption, the title, Priests of the Heart of Jesus, does not refer to ordained ministers.  Rather, “priest” refers to an individual who makes of himself or herself a complete offering to God.

Jesus—Heart—Priest: all of this is succinctly summed up in the Spiritual Directory, written by Fr. Dehon: “The Priests of the Heart of Jesus should live and die as true victims of the Sacred Heart.  They have a heart to love, a body to suffer, a will to sacrifice.  They should practice absolute indifference and the acceptance with love of all that Providence brings” [Chapter V: 3. The Perfection of the Life of Immolation, p. 109f.]

For most of us, this is a foreign language; so, these terms and expressions definitely need an accurate translation.  Now, my ability in high school to translate classical Latin texts was pathetic, and my linguistic facility in French was not that much better in the torture chamber, euphemistically called a language lab.  But I know this language, and I can provide you with a pretty darn good translation—not a word-for-word translation, rather an action-for-word translation.

Delighting in the sensuous love between them, a married couple nurtures a tender and fierce love that keeps the fire burning with occasional nights out.  Ever on the lookout for each other’s welfare, they accompany each other to their doctor’s appointments and pour on the love with the loss of a breast or with the side effects of prostate surgery.

A proud dad emails a friend bragging about his daughter who has decided to travel to Kenya and work for a year helping farmers learn sustainable agricultural practices.

An SCJ priest brings years of preparation to ministry only to discover that religious life and priesthood is not his calling and picks up the pieces to explore yet another way to serve.

In a world that rewards conformity, a gay man accepts and celebrates his sexual identity as life-giving, and uses his experience to champion minority voices.

A father tenderly explains to his daughter, who is questioning her identity, that she is adopted and cherished.

Braving the silent stares of family and friends, a husband consistently creates a safe place for his wife’s depression.

Feeling conflicted, parents offer tough love to a child that insists on self-destructive behavior.

Even amid bitter and angry denials, the relationship remains steadfast with a friend struggling with alcohol.

Dealing with the heartbreak of divorce, a spouse tries to make the separation as amiable as possible.

Speaking the language of developing needs, a child psychologist fosters healthy growth through hours of attentive listening.

No matter the compensation, a visual artist can’t help but reflect beauty to a utilitarian world and delight our eyes with color and form.

A businessman resists the temptation to tip the scales in his favor and a financial manager commits to fairness in a brutally competitive marketplace.

Gently holding anger, denial, sadness, and exhaustion, but doing his best not to internalize it, a grief counsellor embodies compassionate presence.

Spending quality time getting to know his students both inside and outside the classroom, a professor tactfully affirms and challenges budding scholars.

Committed to his patients’ well-being, a medical doctor finds a little extra time to be with his patients even though the insurance company restricts his reimbursement.

A retiree volunteers at an English as a Second Language program, not primarily because he has the extra time, but because there is a need that he can fill.

With the decline in health and energy that aging brings, a man reassesses his strengths and abilities to release what he can no longer accomplish and focus on offering what he still can.

A heart to love, which expands goodness in our world; a body to suffer, which embraces necessary pain for the benefit of others; a will to sacrifice, which, as the root meaning of the word suggests, makes sacred every intentional act: this describes us.  We probably possessed these qualities before we met the SCJs, but the SCJs set those qualities on fire that is burning to this day.

That’s my translation of the esprit de coeur we all share.  Yet, every translation is an interpretation; other interpretations are possible and welcome.  I’d like to invite you to share your interpretation of the spirit we share.  What’s your experience?  How do you understand it?  What insight can you offer us?  This invitation is also open to spouses and partners.  You can help see ourselves.  We also want to hear your voice.

 

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