During
his years of study with the Oblates, his religious superior summed up the young man:
"Excellent Religious, a model student. A man of the future - up and coming. He needs
moderation because he works too hard." When
Father John's ordination picture was published in an OMI bulletin, it caught the attention
of a reader named Catherine who had spent the greater part of her life in suffering. She
felt inspired to write to the young priest: "Father, I saw your picture in the
magazine and read about your ordination. As I looked at it, it seemed Our Lord was asking
me to offer my sufferings for you and your work. I am therefore taking this whole lifetime
of love and suffering and placing it in God's hands for you and your work. It is my prayer
that every soul you meet be blessed by God." Throughout
his ministry Father John remembered this letter from a woman who knew suffering. Whenever
people asked, "Father, how did you get interested in the handicapped?" he would
always respond with another question: "How did the handicapped ever get interested in
me?" Early
in his ministry, Father John experienced a handicapping condition himself; he was
basically losing his voice. His superior knew
that he needed some rest and relaxation, and for some reason thought he would find that
needed rest if he were assigned to teach high school! While teaching history and
literature at an OMI preparatory high school, he met a young student who had developed a
stammer. When informed that his own voice would probably never return to its full
vibrancy, Fr. John continued seeing the speech pathologist - to learn how to help the
student. To Father John it was simple: "Well, I won't be able to preach again, but in
the future, whenever you preach, that will be like me continuing to preach." When
Father John received approval from the OMI leadership to begin some sort of spiritual
support group for persons with handicaps, he began searching for persons who could
benefit. "And we keep searching," he said. "We search the hospitals where
chronically disabled people are hidden in the hurried routine of daily care. We go into
private homes where incapacitated people are all but forgotten. We dig into schools,
orphanages, convents, and nursing homes. We
seek people of all religions and of all races and ages. And we bring them out - the
maimed, the blind, the retarded, the sick of body and mind." "The
message we give them over and over again," he emphasized, "is that they must not
hide in the shadows of moodiness, bitterness and self-hate. They must make their lives
worthwhile, not only for themselves but in relation to their families and friends and to
God who gave them life." When the first weekend retreat for persons with disabilities
was offered at the Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows in Belleville, Illinois, it was no
surprise that the theme was "God's Tremendous Love and Concern for Each One of
Us." Ready to receive and return this love were the twenty or so retreatants,
including four from the New Orleans Chapter who spent twenty hours driving straight
through to join the group. At
the first conference, Fr. John described three qualities of an "Easter People" -
love, joy and peace - which all revolve around love: "Love is the main-spring. Joy is
the spontaneous outburst of a heart full of love. Peace is the inner calm which comes from
the possession of love." About love, he
expanded: "Love knows no end ...total love knows no limits. It consumes itself in
sacrifice and giving. At the same time it constantly re-creates us and renews us and
energizes our whole being." Clearly
visible was Father John's love for all persons, especially those who had disabilities. One
of those persons described him as "the most loving person I have ever known,"
and parents of a child who was disabled said, "We didn't live until we met John
Maronic!" When the Victorious Missionaries celebrated twenty years, the program
carried a full-page photograph of Father John with the description, "20 Years of Love
with the Victorious Missionaries." His
spirit of love was contagious, touching everyone whom he touched. He described the loving
concern at an early gathering: "One sight was especially moving: to have a blind girl
pushing a young man in a wheelchair into the chapel. He did the steering; she supplied the
motor power. Then to watch that same blind girl read one of the lessons during the Liturgy
with the use of a Braille card." One time, Father John commented, "I have seen
more 'love in action' among our lovely handicapped people than I have seen anywhere else
in my many years of priestly work. To watch a mother taking care of a paralyzed daughter
for thirty years, and never hear them complain either to God or others about their lot; to
see the virtuous face of another woman who told me that she had spent fifty years in a
wheelchair, and behold the deep love of God written there.
When I meet such people, I shake my head in amazement and ponder within
myself how God can bring such total love out of the human heart." "Another
thing which is a constant wonder to me," he continued," is how the handicapped
reach out to the poor in their neighborhoods, take time out for the sick, and even contact
those in jails and prisons. We have many stories in our files of this kind of 'love in
action.' And you know, most of the time they don't even have to say, 'I love you'. . . it
is proven in the very act of giving and caring. "Father
John could not pass up the comparison: Doesn't this sound so much like the love of
Jesus in action? He was always reaching out for the poor, searching out the blind and
lame, granting pardon to the sinner. Very seldom did Jesus say to a given person, 'I love
you.' He didn't have to say it. They saw it in his divine gaze, in his tender touch, in
his power of healing. His very presence to everyone he met was proof that God had indeed
come into the world, a love was real and human and touchable." When
keynoting a Victorious Missionary Conference, Fr. John began with the story of a young
girl of sixteen who lay dying: "She had been an elder child in a large motherless
family and had spent her childhood bearing the burdens of the home. She was literally tired to death, dying of an
advanced case of TB. When a visitor asked her if she had gone to church regularly, she
answered simply, 'No.' Abruptly the visitor asked, 'What will you do when you die and have
tell that to God?' The young woman pulled from under the covers her thin hands, stained
and twisted with work, and said, 'I will show God my hands.' This girl," he
concluded, "knew the meaning of real love, and that is the only coin that will get us
anywhere with God." According
to Karl (Korky) Buhr, who later served as director of the Victorious Missionaries, Father
John really sought out persons with disabilities. "They used to say that Father John
had a sixth sense and if anybody with a disability drove on the Shrine grounds be it by
car, bus, or whatever - he would sniff them out. He would find them or they would find
him. That is how some of the chapters got started. One group came from Omaha and he met a
lady from there; another group came from New York and he connected with those
people." When
stopping by Ireland during a pilgrimage, Fr. John met a woman with a disability, Ada
Power. She got so enthusiastic that she started a Victorious Missionary Chapter in
Ireland. When
traveling, Father John never phoned before dropping in. On one occasion, he wanted to meet
Anna Marie Sopko (who would later become administrator of CUSA, An Apostolate of the Sick
or Disabled). In her words, "All I remember is that one evening, about 8 p.m., I was
already in my pajamas, the door bell rang, and my dad let in this 'strange' priest."
That evening's conversation began the networking of CUSA and the Victorious Missionaries. Fr.
John often called the people with whom he worked "the Lord's specials," and he
would do anything to share opportunities with them. This story offers a graphic example of
"anything": Shirley Kopecky, confined to a hospital-style gurney, was one of the
early leaders of the Victorious Missionary movement. Father John wanted to take Shirley
and her mother out for supper, but he couldnt find a station wagon or van that was
long enough to hold her gurney. So he borrowed a hearse from a funeral home, picked up his
guests, drove to a suburban restaurant, parked in front, pulled the gurney with Shirley
out of the back of the hearse, and rolled it into the restaurant! He
regularly borrowed a vehicle from the same funeral home so that he or a volunteer could
transport his "horizontal members" (Shirley Kopecky and Connie Watson) from
their homes to the Shrine for Victorious Missionary gatherings. He went to great lengths
as he practiced one of his favorite sayings, "Only by loving and helping others do we
complete ourselves." For
years Father John had quietly shared suffering with the persons whom he served. Eventually
he admitted that he had "been bothered with migraines for about 20 years," but
he immediately downplayed the difficulty, "They come only once a year and last only a
couple of weeks." Later
he learned that he was living with Myelo Fibrosis. "A couple of years ago, the
doctors diagnosed me as having a rare blood disease. I had suspected something was wrong
for some months. It seems I was always fighting to regain my strength in line with the
many things I wanted to do." Despite
the disease, he determined, "I will continue to work here at the Shrine, with the
Victorious Missionaries and other projects as long as I am able. I will remain on the
Board, hope to attend some staff meetings here at the Center, will keep informed about
various things going on and attend the Days of Renewal whenever I can; finally, I want to
continue to write Crossroads, at least for the time being. Perhaps the greatest
contribution I can make is to help with the spiritual growth of the movement, which I
consider extremely vital." Ultimately,
Fr. John became a foremost witness to what he preached as his illnesses intensified and
became disabling. The affliction with his voice led often to personal frustration. The
blood disease brought pain; it forced him to continually let go of what he wanted to do
and severely restricted what he could do. For
years Fr. John had valued suffering because it developed the capacity to love. "We
also have a deeper awareness of love. Trials have a way of stripping us of phoniness.
Reaching out for others who need us can help to expand our own capacity for love. The
mercy and compassion coming from those who love us humbles us into loving even more. An
occasional glance at the Christ of the Cross gives us the picture of a man who loved unto
folly." He
could now use his own disabilities to learn more about love. "I read a story some
years ago about a woman who was struck blind in her mid-years. She had a long adjustment
to make. When she finally made it, she said: 'I try now to think of all people as handsome
or beautiful. This is a pretty good way to look at the world, isn't it?' Without her
handicap, that woman would never have gotten this profound insight into real love." S.
Myron Corder, who worked daily with him, described him with great appreciation:
"Father John's ardent concern for those in need, his compassion for the poor and
handicapped, his concern for justice for the oppressed, his reaching out to give hope to
the troubled and courage to those in doubt, his spirit of prayer, his true friendship,
especially with those with whom he worked - when things went well and when they didn't go
well - all these are a litany of praise and thanks." When
writing a Christmas column, Father John had commented that "God's love is outpouring
and overwhelming, ours is so self seeing an stingy.
He added, "It is a good thing that God does not think and act as we
do!" Many persons, particularly "the Lord's specials," would disagree. To
them, the love of Father John reflects well the love of God.
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