Mark Anthony, while eulogising the assassinated Julius Caesar, said that “the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones. So let it be with Caesar”. Quite naturally, he wanted exactly the opposite to be the case and so it was. But truth be said, it happens many a time that the good that men do is forgotten.
Some do remember the good deeds and want to celebrate them. This November, for example, the good deeds of two Maltese priests – Bishop Annetto Depasquale and Fr Arthur Vella SJ – are being commemorated by two different books.
I remember driving by the university when I heard of the sudden dead of Bishop Depasquale. Tearful skies saluted his passing away to the house of our Father in heaven.
Dun Annett was my lecturer of canon law. I was studying in the immediate years after Vatican II when the creativity of the Spirit was breathing new life in Church structures. Dun Annett’s take on canon law was a witness of the signs of those times. His lectures were intellectually stimulating and pastorally very valid.
He was a good teacher of theology because he was a good priest and he was a good priest because he was a good man. Whoever needed his services found in him a welcome giver. He had time for all those who wished to speak to him. He welcomed all, helped all. The parishioners of San Ġorġ, Qormi witness his beautifully celebrated Masses and long stretches of time hearing confessions.
He loved the Church and served the Church in many different ministries spanning from children’s homes to his ministry as a vicar general and, later, auxiliary bishop. Although he occupied such positions of authority, he always believed that authority was only an exercise of service. Wherever he was, he served: generously, faithfully and lovingly. I knew him as a perfect gentleman: gentle but firm as much as he was fair. He was both a man of principles as well as a lover of people. Principles were at the service of people. He was a man of conviction not a man of convenience.
It happens many a time that the good that men do is forgotten- Fr Joe Borg
I was much closer to Turu than I was to Dun Annett. I remember meeting him for the very first time at the university library in 1973. The last time I said goodbye to him was Saturday, May 19, 2018, at around 10pm. He was unconscious on his dying bed, suffering from cancer. A few hours later, on Pentecost Sunday, he was in the bosom of the Father.
Writing this piece about him is very difficult. One needs to say things to prove one’s point but one has to keep back as the anecdotes that prove one’s point would be too private and personal. Suffice to say that, after thanking God for my vocation, I gladly thank Turu that I am a priest. Many others would say the same about their priesthood or married life.
For 45 years, my life was indelibly marked with his wise words of advice, spiritual wisdom and deep love. Turu, as we who loved him affectionately called him, was my second father, my friend and my spiritual director. Hundreds, probably thousands, would describe him the way I just did. The same sentiments are shared by the 30 or so contributors to the book. They range from bishops to domestic helpers at Mount St Joseph, to university professors, to housewives and to fellow Jesuits.
Turu was a spiritual giant in the guise of an unassuming and approachable man. Always accessible, particularly for confession. He was totally dependable and wise in more sense than one. He was intellectually profound and extraordinary caring and loving. His strength to love others was anchored in his great love of Jesus Christ, whom he recognised as the One who loves him most. He was at home with the simplest of fellow human as well as with those who have ecclesiastical or political power. He loved all but, most of all, he loved those who needed his love most.
Celebrating Turu means celebrating the model of the Church he believed in, that is a humane and non-judgemental Church, one that gives importance to the heart as much as one that gives importance to the mind. He believed in a Church for whom the human person is much more important than structures.
His was a Church anchored in human history, giving prophetic witness, denouncing the structures of sin and unafraid to tackle the powerful. He was an enthusiastic teacher of the social doctrine of the Church. But, more so, he believed in a Church that practises its social doctrine in its structures.
His Church was one that washes the feet and heals the wounds of those in spiritual or physical pain. A battlefield hospital, says Francis. We learned all this from Turu years before. The same can be said about Mantra of Pope Francis: the name of God is mercy. Nothing new there for us, the disciples of Turu.
He taught us all this not just by words but by being himself, Turu.
Annetto Depasquale, Wirt Għażiż tal-Knisja f’Malta is edited by Fr Anton Gouder and Fr Kevin Schembri. Arthur G Vella SJ: F’kollox inħobb u naqdi, is edited by Anna and Antoine Vella, Carmel Conti, Nardu Callus and myself. Both books are published by Klabb Kotba Maltin and can be ordered from their website.