When I visited a Catholic church in Israel, the priest was wearing a robe I had seen someplace before — on Cardinal Sean Patrick O’Malley, the recently retired archbishop of Boston. Both wore open sandals and a brown robe tied at the waist with a cincture — a rope tied in three knots representing poverty, chastity, and obedience, the three rules of the Franciscan Order. O’Malley’s robe was the same as any Franciscan in the world would wear.
I met the cardinal while working on a project to help citizens returning from incarceration, which involved discussions with numerous religious leaders in Boston. I had already met with white, mainline Protestant and Evangelical leaders, leaders from Black churches, and approximately 30 Department of Corrections chaplains of different religious faiths.
In preparation for meeting the cardinal, I reviewed the protocols and practiced saying “Your Eminence.” After all that, I don’t think it mattered to him. I could just have easily said, “Nice to meet you, Sean.” Yet he is one of the most influential and powerful people in Boston. There is no religious, business, or political leader who would not take or return a call from the cardinal.
As archbishop, O’Malley oversaw what amounts to a major corporation, with over 3,500 employees in 400 locations, millions of dollars’ worth of properties, and programs such as Catholic Charities. He is well-connected to some of the wealthiest and most powerful Catholics in Massachusetts and can raise millions of dollars with a phone call or an email. The Atlantic magazine described him as Pope Francis’ BFF. O’Malley serves on the pope’s advisory cabinet and speaks to him regularly, giving the cardinal global influence.
Over the years, I’ve been in some impressive offices, including that of philanthropist Jack Connors and a few at the State House. My meeting with the cardinal took place in a small sitting area, not his office or a conference room. It gave the encounter a more personal feeling.
He mentioned some diplomatic work he was doing for the pope, not to name drop, but because it was relevant to the conversation we were having on Cuba. It occurred to me then that the cardinal’s work was international in scope, and his influence was even greater than I had imagined. I told him about my work with Mother Teresa, someone he also knew, and he told this story:
Mother Teresa was flying in a small plane to Cuba, and the pilot called ahead for permission to land, because it was not a preapproved flight. The control tower was shocked that Mother Teresa was about to land and contacted Fidel Castro. Castro dropped what he was doing and went to the airport to meet her. When Castro saw her, he asked, “What brings you to Cuba?” She said, “To help the poor.” Castro responded that he was sorry to inform her that she had come so far for nothing, because there were no poor people in Cuba. She replied, “Well, I’ve come to help the seniors.” Castro responded, “That you can do, as we do have seniors here.”
Given my time with Mother Teresa, the story rang true. She was self-aware enough to know that Cuba was not going to deny her small plane permission to land. She arrived without a large entourage. The similarities to O’Malley struck me. When I worked with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, she was every bit the nun depicted on TV, but she was also running a worldwide organization, with thousands of employees and $150 million (In 1986 dollars) in annual donations. She regularly met with world leaders. Given Mother Teresa’s global renown, you wouldn’t think she would still be ministering daily to the poor in her 80s, but there she was.
How people choose to introduce themselves says a lot about them. The cardinal never mentioned his degrees (he has a Ph.D.), his awards, or his accomplishments. Rather, he talked about ministry. I could tell he loved being a priest and doing ministry as a missionary around the world. He spoke fondly of the work, and every now and then I hear of him ministering to the poor, to prisoners, and to returning citizens. He took the time to learn eight languages, including Haitian Creole, so he could serve people on their own terms.
When I asked O’Malley about selling the beautiful mansion on the Boston College campus where his predecessors had lived and moving to the “hood,” he gave an answer I didn’t expect. He didn’t say selling the property was necessary to bring justice and pay for the archdiocese’s $85 million settlement with sexual abuse victims. Rather, he said that he belonged with his brothers. That spoke to the love and fellowship he experiences with fellow priests at a rectory in the South End. To make sure he didn’t miss the point, I repeated my comment about him moving to the hood, he responded that it wasn’t the hood anymore, due to gentrification.
I discerned a pattern. Pope Francis, despite being one of the most powerful people in the world, had selected rather modest living accommodations at the Vatican. Rather than moving to the papal apartments after his election, the pope opted to live in a two-room residence in the Domus Sanctae Marthae, the Vatican guesthouse that hosts visiting clergy. Similarly, he stayed in an apartment instead of the archbishop’s palace during his tenure as archbishop of Buenos Aires.
I spent several days reflecting on our meeting and how the cardinal, as archbishop, had reached one of the highest positions in the Catholic church and yet seemed quite humble. He was aware of his influence, so he could use it for good. But it didn’t seem to have gone to his head. He was following the example of Jesus, who had miraculous power, was well aware of his role in the Holy Trinity, and yet on Holy Thursday washed the feet of his disciples.
This realization inspired me to be more aware of my own power and agency and to be conscious as to how I use it.
The similarities among Pope Francis, Mother Teresa, and Cardinal O’Malley include the ability to balance power and humility and the appearance of being comfortable in their own skin. Like our Lord, Jesus Christ, they are models for us all.
I look forward to having coffee with the Cardinal as he starts his retirement and listening to more of his stories.
Ed Gaskin is Executive Director of Greater Grove Hall Main Streets and founder of Sunday Celebrations.