“He prioritized Christ above all else”: Michael Heinlein on Cardinal George

Michael R. Heinlein, editor of Simply Catholic and the former editor of The Catholic Answer magazine, has released a detailed and inspiring of biography of the late Cardinal Francis E. George, O.M.I. (1937-2015). Titled Glorifying Christ and published by Our Sunday Visitor, the book is the result of years of research by Heinlein, who is also a contributor to Our Sunday Visitor newspaper, The Priest magazine, and Catholic World Report. He has a degree in theology from The Catholic University of America and lives in Indiana with his wife and three children.

Heinlein recently corresponded with CWR about the biography, Cardinal George’s fascinating journey to the priesthood, and George’s years of leadership as a bishop in three very different locations.

CWR: Your path to writing this biography, as you mention at the start, came from growing up in near Chicago while Cardinal George was Archbishop there (1997–2014). What is your first memory of him? What about him caught your attention? And then what led you to pursue writing this biography?

Michael R. Heinlein: I was 11 years old when Cardinal George was named as archbishop of Chicago – but, being a somewhat unusual child, I recall being interested even in who Cardinal Bernardin’s successor might be before then. I still have clippings from the Chicago Tribune with potential candidates that my grandma saved for me. So I remember George’s appointment in the spring of 1997 quite vividly. Being so young, I was not very dialed in to what it meant for the Church, but I remember his charisma, humor and what I came later to know as authenticity.

Growing up in the shadow of Chicago, I would see Cardinal George regularly in the media, and later was more interested in his thought, his clarity in teaching, and his obvious discipleship. As a college student, I was particularly drawn to his biweekly columns in the Chicago archdiocesan newspaper, which always had something original, something to deepen my own faith and give compelling reasons for what I believed. He had vision to see past what divides and guide us toward unity in Christ.

And when he died, like so many others, I really felt the void he left. I wanted to do something to help keep his witness and legacy alive. And through a series of events, it became clear in prayer that the Lord was calling me to help tell the wholeness of his story. I never thought this was something I would do. Who am I to take on such a task about one of the most consequential bishops in American history? But no one else was doing it yet, and so I thought I’d give it a try.

It took a great deal of work and many obstacles had to be overcome. But I hope that, in the end, this book is a gift for the Church, because Cardinal George’s witness and legacy certainly is.

CWR: George grew up in Chicago and at an early age was seriously pondering the priesthood. But then he contracted polio. What did that mean for his aspirations of being a priest in the Archdiocese of Chicago? And how did that shape the rest of his life?

Heinlein: Cardinal George often recalled how he first heard the Lord’s call to priesthood on the day of his First Holy Communion when he was eight years old. He was a regular fixture at his home parish in Chicago, St. Pascal’s, and was one of a group of young men who regularly served Mass and helped the parish pastor in a variety of parochial tasks. In his eighth grade year, George was preparing to matriculate to the Chicago high school seminary.

But those plans were changed when, that year, he contracted polio and was left with a slight paralysis of one hand, his legs, especially his right leg, leaving him with a limp. He was told that although it would be difficult, he could attend the high school seminary as a student in Chicago. But he was also told he would not be a priest there. So, his response was, as he put it: “To heck with you guys!”

And he went off to southern Illinois and the high school seminary operated by the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the congregation he would later join. The polio also shaped his life by the physical and psychological effects of pain and suffering. His sister often commented about how George never had a day without pain. But a valuable lesson from that time, of which he often spoke, came from the father of a neighbor girl who had polio. And that advice was that he shouldn’t feel sorry for himself because others were worse off. This was a major lesson for the 13-year-old George, and it shaped the rest of his life in many ways.

And connected to that, as a man who shared George’s hospital room at the time recounted to George’s mother, while they would often talk, whenever George fell silent, he’d be staring at the cross. That combination of seeing his pain as having more meaning than self-pity, and understanding it through the cross, guided George’s life and enabled him to offer his life in service to others so profoundly.

CWR: How did George eventually become a priest with the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate? And having done so, what did the future apparently hold for him?

Heinlein: At 14, George moved to Belleville, Illinois, to attend St. Henry’s Seminary, operated by the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. In talking to others, it seemed he hadn’t given up on the idea of becoming a priest in Chicago yet, despite the initial rejection on account of his disability. But, over time, he came to see great value in the life of an Oblate, and decided after six years at St. Henry’s to apply for the novitiate. After first vows in 1958, George was sent to the Oblate seminary in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he stayed for two years before assignment to the Oblate theologate in Ottawa, Ontario. There he completed his studies for priesthood and, though a unique set of circumstances, ended up being ordained at his home parish in Chicago.

In those days, becoming a religious, especially of a missionary congregation, meant that you would not have any kind of “ecclesiastical career,” since in those days religious were rarely named bishops in the United States. He was very happy and content with whatever or wherever the Oblate vocation might lead him to do. Given his innate intellectual gifts, however, it was clear he would be an asset to the Oblates by taking up teaching and formation work in the community. And he did that for only a few years, after obtaining his first doctorate at Tulane University, until he was named provincial of the Oblates’ Midwest province when he was only 35.

CWR: You emphasize the sacrificial nature of the work of the Oblates and the sacrifices George had to make, writing that he “set out on a path that presented continual opportunities for him to empty himself in ways never imagined for the Church, first as a priest and later as a bishop.” What were some of those sacrifices? How did they shape him?

Heinlein: Cardinal George often remarked that his life was not a self-directed project, but was a continual response in obedience to whatever was asked of him. He very much enjoyed the intellectual and academic pursuits that defined the first decade or so of his priesthood, and he certainly would have preferred to stay in that line of ministry. But at 35, he was drafted into administrative work and stayed doing that, for the most part, until he retired in 2014.

Only a year and a half after his appointment as provincial, George ended up elected in 1974 as the vicar general of his global congregation, which necessitated a move to Rome. He served in that capacity for two six-year terms. So for the good of his congregation, for the good of the Church, he took on the administrative work that he never really wanted to do. And he really threw himself into it completely. He ended up traveling the world, visiting dozens of countries where the Oblates served, never staying in a hotel, and sometimes sleeping on the floor.

Once he was kicked out of a country, once he was detained at an international border, once he missed the only flight out of an island, and once he was shot at. And all the while his physical health still bore the effects of the polio that had attacked him as a boy. Travel wasn’t the easiest. His parents both died during that time. Some opposed him in the congregation. But he persevered, and his steady wisdom and careful leadership helped bring renewal to the Oblates in the post-Vatican II years and set them on a firm foundation for the future.

CWR: In the turmoil and confusion that spread following the Council, how did Fr. George grapple with the meaning and nature of the priesthood? What stands out to you about him during those trying years?

Heinlein: Cardinal George was ordained a priest in the midst of the Second Vatican Council, an event that would both come to shape his entire priesthood but also an event that he would become an interpreter of through his administrative and teaching roles in the Church.

When the nature of priesthood came under question by some in the immediate post-conciliar years, George gave his voice to the conversation in the capacity of a seminary professor and formator. “Along with everything else in the Church, the priesthood too is subject to new scrutiny, to new attempts at a redefinition,” he said in 1966, continuing, “if the meaning of the priesthood is no longer evident, if the priest’s image is blurred and confused, it affects all of us.” He concluded, “If you want to be just like any other man, with the same privileges and rights and responsibilities and opportunities, if you don’t want a life lived in anticipation of an event not yet fully realized and a life, therefore, in some ways incomplete and unfulfilled, then, for God’s sake and your own — don’t become a priest.”

Years later, it’s worth noting, George also wrote his Chicago priests privately about another difficulty plaguing the priesthood, this time much more disturbing. It was in 2006 that he wrote these words encouraging conversion and renewal in the priesthood: “I want to say now that if there is any priest who is leading a double life, who is engaged in dishonest or sinful practices that destroy the Church, he should, for the sake of the Church, come forward. If a priest cannot change and convert anew, he should leave his sacred office in the Church. People rightly have high standards for us, the standards the Church herself gives us and which each of us has freely accepted. All of us are sinners, but there are types of perversion that are completely incompatible with the calling of ordained priesthood.”

CWR: What impact did both studying and teaching philosophy have on Fr. George? What was he like as a teacher?

Heinlein: Cardinal George’s roles as a student and teacher of philosophy shaped his thinking, teaching and ministry in such a way that was clearly set apart from so many of his episcopal contemporaries. He was not possessed by any agendas or ideologies, and he was a fresh, nuanced, clear thinker who was able to articulate the Faith convincingly, in a unifying way. I have no doubt it was his philosophical mind that enabled him to be such an effective leader among his brother bishops.

As many bishops remarked to me: even if they disagreed with him, whenever Cardinal Geroge spoke, everyone listened.

CWR: Racial justice and poverty were two significant concerns for Fr. George. What were his theological, pastoral, and practical approaches to them?

Heinlein: Racism and its effects on persons and society was part of Cardinal George’s consciousness from a young age. As a young priest in Mississippi in the 1960s, George was very much moved by segregation and its consequences, even in the Church at times. Later, as archbishop of Chicago, George dedicated his second of only two pastoral letters to the sin of racism. “Dwell in My Love” contains much of George’s theological, pastoral and practical approach to racism, a sin rooted in violation of our being created in the image and likeness of God.

And as the Oblates of Mary Immaculate have the special mission of proclaiming the gospel to the poor, George was always close to the poor as a bishop. In Yakima, he was an advocate for the migrant families who felt taken advantage of. In Chicago, he wanted to sell the historic Archbishop’s Residence, planning himself to live in closer proximity to the poor. He had hoped in retirement to help out in soup kitchens. Also in Chicago he was particularly devoted to the large, sophisticated Catholic Charities of the archdiocese. While his ministry to the poor was certainly a ministry of presence and friendship, George also made caring for the poor’s material needs to be a top priority. during George’s time in Chicago, Catholic Charities built 18 residences for low-income seniors, two assisted living facilities, a nursing home, a priest’s retirement home, and a home for homeless veterans — the first of its kind in the US.

CWR: How did Fr. George first react to being appointed bishop of Yakima, Washington, in 1990? What were those years like for him?

Heinlein: George was not much interested in becoming a bishop. His own vocation as a religious, practically speaking, meant he didn’t consider himself among those who were likely candidates for episcopal office in the United States. His appointment as a bishop in 1990 came as a surprise, and he even made a trip to the apostolic nunciature in Washington, D.C. to ask that the nomination be reconsidered.

But in the end he obediently accepted the call. He fell in love with the Diocese of Yakima, though, and it was mutual. He put an emphasis on the Church’s teaching office during his time there, attentive to his priests, and also build unity within a very diverse population. He is still remembered there as a man of great pastoral availability. By the time George left Yakima for Portland in 1996, the local newspaper’s front page title remembered him as “The Good Bishop.”

CWR: After a brief time in Portland, Oregon, George spent the rest of his life, nearly two decades, in Chicago. What do you think were his most significant challenges and work there?

Heinlein: Returning home to Chicago was an irony of God’s providence. It was certainly a surprise, since he had only been in Portland ten months. Having been gone from Chicago for nearly 50 years, George hit the ground running, intent on getting to know his hometown now as its shepherd. Chicago’s initial rejection of him was reprised when a group of priests protested his assignment to the apostolic nuncio and claimed he was too controlling and conservative.

A unique, often difficult, sometimes independent presbyterate certainly made his life as Chicago’s archbishop, shall we say, complicated. He also very must detested the political life of the city. He put a focus on catechesis, and formation of those who minister to others (priests, deacons and lay ecclesial ministers). He was more often than not the last to leave an event, the first archbishop to visit all of the archdiocese’s parishes. He knew all too well that ecclesial institutions would need reorganized but he was hesitant to close them, especially schools. He was drawn into many national and international initiatives and roles, and was a much sought-after speaker — but always put Chicago first.

His fingerprints are on many of the major ecclesiastical actions that happened at a national level during his years as archbishop of Chicago. He was one of the most vocal proponents of zero tolerance in the wake of 2002. He was instrumental in overseeing the current translation of the Roman Missal. He served as vice president and then president of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, providing much needed clarity to the threats on religious liberty posed by the Obama administration at the time.

And throughout all this he was a man living with disability and battling bladder cancer in three iterations. Being archbishop of Chicago was without question a cross to bear, but he did it without considering the cost and continually gave of himself to the tasks that lay before him.

CWR: Finally, what information or story surprised you the most in the course of researching this biography?

Heinlein: I’m not sure that anything surprised me so much. I guess it was quite enlightening, yet fitting, to see how much he suffered while serving as archbishop of Chicago. But that certainly illustrates and underscores a certain holiness that many have identified. I have to say that it was a gift to see what a man of integrity and authenticity he was, that he always put God and others first, that he prioritized Christ above all else.

We can look at past administrative decisions, for example — as he himself often did — and see how certain situations might have required a different response. Hindsight is 20/20 and we all make mistakes. But, in the end, his life was marked by a consistent, often heroic Christian discipleship that can only inspire and shape those who get to know him.