THE JESUIT LINK

A friend e-mailed the other day to say that in a recent blog, I had been a bit hard on the Jesuits, something about never trying to one up a Black Robe.

Upon reflection, I realize that the Jesuits have had a tremendous influence on my life. In fact, I owe my teaching career to Father Meagher, Brebeuf College’s first principal, who trusted in me despite once claiming that left handed people don’t make good teachers.

Our family link to the Jesuits appears to go back all the way to 1636 when Jean de Brebeuf and his companions observed the Huron feast of the Dead, a ritual that involved the reburial of dead bodies in a communal location every ten years. While plowing his field in 1946, my uncle Charlie came upon artifacts from the very burial site that Brebeuf had documented in letters to his superiors. Archeologists from the Royal Ontario Museum later uncovered hundreds of beads, six copper rings including one Jesuit ring, two native American pipes and the remains of at least 681 Hurons.

I first became aware of the Jesuits as a wee child. Our family cottage was on Georgian Bay near Midland and we would frequently visit Martyrs’ Shrine for Sunday mass. The Shrine was the biggest church I had ever seen and I was captivated by the wall of discarded crutches at the front of the church, symbols of the miraculous intercession of the martyrs. I was also fascinated by long lines of people waiting in front of small booths with red curtained entrances instead of doors.

At the age of nine, I had a serious bike accident and my mom introduced me to the Martyrs’ novena. It must have worked because the two front teeth that were knocked out in the mishap actually took root again. Too bad the martyrs couldn’t straighten out my nose.

Three years later, I again ran into the Jesuit influence. St. Marie among the Hurons, the principal Jesuit residence for Brebeuf and his brethren back in the 1600’s, was under restoration. My dad, always the opportunist, decided to use his summer holidays to cut cedar posts in his bush and sell them to St. Marie for the palisade around the settlement. My job was to trim the branches off the fallen trees before a work horse dragged them out to a concession road for pick up. Although he was a successful business man, my dad took great delight in working in the bush that July. Maybe it reminded him of his earlier days working in a lumber camp or perhaps he was just pleased to be making a few dollars from the marshy one hundred acres of land his father had left him years before. I’m not really sure but I do know that his tireless example taught me the value of earning money by the sweat of your brow, a message that served me well during in my university days when I worked on the loading docks of a Canadian Tire warehouse.

When I finally did meet my first Jesuit at the age of fourteen, I certainly wasn’t intimidated by the black robe or the perspicacious countenance of Father Meagher. Our meeting took place in the principal’s office of St. Edward’s Elementary School in Willowdale as Brebeuf College was still under construction in May 1963. I don’t know if Father Meagher met with all prospective new students and their families but I do distinctly recall his conversation with my dad about the Leafs winning the Stanley Cup that spring. Father Meagher, a huge Detroit fan and my dad, a militant Habs supporter, couldn’t believe how the Leafs had pulled it off.

Then Father Meagher turned his attention to me and asked if I had any questions about the new school. Naively, I blurted out,

“What does Brebeuf have to offer me?”

Little did I know at the time that Brebeuf College would afford me an excellent education, a rich teaching career and friendships that would last a lifetime.

I have been blessed by my association with so many Jesuits over the years. In particular, Father Meagher and Father Clement Crusoe have had a significant impact on my life and my fruitful connection with Father Beaudois continues to this day.

May this remarkable order of dedicated men continue to prosper and witness to God's word.