I was about eight years old, growing up in the Toronto suburb of Don Mills, when I first met Father Briant Cullinane.
He was a newly arrived young priest c. 1963, in the Franciscan Parish of St. Bonaventure. My elder sister and I attended St. Bonaventure School, and our family, (seven of us), belonged to the Church community. Father Briant was quite a change for St. Bonaventure - young, smiling, funny - certainly not the sort of priest we were used to. He clearly loved kids, and was a frequent attendee at outdoor recess, his black hooded robes, (the Conventual Franciscan habit), billowing as he walked through the playground, a flock of small children gathered around him. He showed us tricks, (how to catch a dollar bill), told corny jokes, and poked gentle fun. He also taught us to tie the three knots of the rope cincture worn on his robes, (symbolizing a Franciscan's commitment to a life of simplicity and devotion), the knots representing his vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.
For us children, he was a light - a mentor, advisor and friend - our own Father O'Malley, (Bing Crosby) in 'Going My Way'. It was soon after his arrival that St. Bonaventure Church organized a girls' softball league, (four teams - Franciscans, Carmelites, Benedictines and Dominicans) and a few years later a girls' basketball team, both of which I participated in. I was too young in the mid-60's for the vibrant St. Bonaventure's CYO, but my older siblings were involved in the organization of dances and the production of a number of plays.
A few years after his arrival, I was hospitalized in Toronto's 'Sick Kids' with an infection in my knee, the only visitors allowed being my parents. I was feeling pretty low the first day or two post-surgery, when I thought I spotted Father Briant in the hallway outside my hospital room. Not decked out in his usual robes, but black-suited, he came in a few moments later. In my shock and surprise, my first words to him were, "How did you get in here?" Unabashed, he pointed to his dog collar and said, "You've got to be wearing one of these!"
It was the first of many visits, each ending with a blessing, his hand placed on the top of my head, something which I thought of as his superpower. Perhaps he sent a lightning bolt of well-being with that blessing, but the love, care and kindness was palpable.
Fr. B was at St. Bonaventure for thirteen years, before leaving us to serve in New Jersey (his home - he never lost his New Jersey accent), then the Archdiocese of Toronto, and North Carolina.
He lived to the age of 94, and while I hadn't seen him in many years, I thought of him often. He was the first person to call me 'Annie', a name which stuck through high school and university. I thought of this the other day, and googling his name, found his obituary.
He was someone who personified kindness and love, and I will miss him.
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Father Briant, in my recollection, demonstrated what it was to be a true Franciscan - a commitment to simplicity and humility, service to the poor and marginalized, affirmation of the unique worth of each individual, reverence of all creation, living in imitation of Christ, finding joy - in other words, faithful to the original thirteenth century vision of St. Francis and St. Clare. Franciscan beliefs centre on the integration of action and contemplation, through prayer and commitment to social justice. The interconnectedness of all things offers a perspective that inherently transcends denominational boundaries. For me, I suppose, this last point is key - that of Franciscan recognition of the validity of multiple spiritual traditions, as I see myself as an ecumenical believer.
For nearly thirty years, I have belonged to a small rural church community within the United Church of Canada. We have a wonderful woman minister, are an 'Affirming' church community, (welcoming and fully inclusive of people of all sexual orientations and gender identities), and are active in the greater community. You can read about that church community HERE.
My religious life - that is, my time involved in a church community that has affected my outlook, my actions, my prayer, my beliefs - is fairly evenly split between Franciscan Catholicism and (what I'll call) Progressive Christianity. Both come from the same origins, similar prayers, parallel order of service and music tradition. Both emphasize the need to follow the way of Jesus.
While I do miss much of the tradition and ceremony and ritual of the Catholic Church, there is a great deal about it that I have trouble with, still, and do not miss at all. But I hold on to that which is central in living my faith. I see myself as a follower of 'The Franciscan Way' - a seeker, with a deep respect for our natural surroundings, walking the path of simplicity and compassion, living in joy and peace, and committed to social and environmental justice. This is the cornerstone of my faith, and also defines our way of life here at our home in rural Peterborough County.
And that reminds me that I am forever a Franciscan.
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