Thus read an editorial in the Atlanta Constitution under the heading: “Rome Council is Truly “Ecumenical”, or “World-wide” in its significance. It was an excellent tribute to the vision of Pope Paul, an invitation to those of all faiths to watch the “revitalizing of this great force for good in the world.” The editorial was carefully noted here in Rome as an expression of the good will evident in a modern southern city like Atlanta.

It also helped explain to our Catholic people why their archbishop must be absent so much. “Collegiality of the bishops” is a theological term much discussed at the council. It means that a Catholic bishop not only administers his own diocese; he shares in the overall government of the Church. In a council, pope and bishops join in their appointed roles,--to observe, judge and act for the good of all God’s people.

Meanwhile Monsignors Cassidy and Moylan are confirming the children; the pastors are visiting their people; sisters and lay teachers are conducting classes, and the laity is engaged in the countless details that characterize their lives as Catholics. You are all in my daily Mass and I ask your prayers that our decisions will be for the good of the Church.

IF PUSH COMES TO SHOVE

In the crush of bishops leaving St. Peter’s last Sunday night after the beatification of John Neumann, one prelate was so hemmed in that he found himself addressing the body in front of him: “Your Excellency, how about moving along with the crowd?”

Only then did he discover that he was talking to a five-foot stone pillar.

OLD HOME WEEK IN ROME

Monday evening, I enjoyed a pleasant dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Russell Bellman and Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spalding of Atlanta. Tuesday, another enjoyable evening in the dining room of the Hotel Flora with Mrs. Helen Smith and her sister, Miss Riley, from home. Last Saturday, by accident, I met a classmate from Cathedral Latin High School, Ernest Halambeck, and his wife, from Cleveland. Saturday I will be able to spend a few hours with a roommate from Notre Dame, Harry Burger, and his wife, from Chicago.

It was good to hear the Georgia voices again. And I was glad to report to them what two Methodist observers said to me, after I had made a report on the Liturgy to the Council Fathers: “it sounds good to hear that Latin in a Georgia accent!” They were being ecumenical. With my mid-west twang, I was never able to achieve a proper Georgia accent. But it was nice to hear.

WHAT A HEADLINE CAN DO

In an age where the communication of ideas is vital, the communication of wrong ideas can be deadly. Last week, I was asked by a correspondent to explain the place of Our Lord and His Blessed Mother in Catholic life. I wrote out four sentences, and asked that they be used entire.

They were, at the end of the story! But the lead paragraph hit-skipped through my text, and used words like ‘blasphemy’ completely out of context. No true Catholic honors Mary “in a way that Christ is obscured or forgotten;” yet that clause was left our of the lead. The result: a rash of misleading headlines.

Every Catholic knows that a bishop cannot “attack’ true devotion to Our Blessed Lady, From my school days at St. Mary’s, through college days at Notre Dame, right down to my recent visit to the lovely cathedral dedicated to Mary at Chartres, I have cherished the intercession of the Virgin in humble imitation of the honor in which her son held His Mother. Catholic people need not fear that their archbishop is the “ugly dragon named in the Apocalypse,” as one angry correspondent wrote me. But I am concerned that good and honest Christians might be disturbed by the headlines. For their faith (and their love of Mary) I offered Mass on the Feast of her Motherhood.

LETTER TO THE POPE

One of the bishops, the day before he left his diocese, received a letter from a little girl “to give to the pope”. Cardinal Cicogani, apostolic delegate to the United States for twenty-five years, and now secretary of state, conveyed it to him. In her letter, she told her interest in the liturgy, and said she was glad the council was going “to make it easier for us children to understand”. She said she cried when Pope John died, but she was not underestimating his successor. She assured the present Holy Father that she was sure he would make a good pope!

ALL THOSE DIFFERENT CASSOCKS!

Most of the great religious orders that serve the Church in Atlanta are represented here, and there is much talk of Atlanta when we meet. Last Sunday was the beatification of Blessed John Neumann, former bishop of Philadelphia, a Redemporist. Next week, the beatification of Dominic Barberi (who received the other Newman, the cardinal, into the Church) will take place, he was a Passionist. Wednesday we are having dinner at the motherhouse of the Marists. The Trappist presence is felt in some fine translations on the Episcopacy made for me by the monks at Conyers. The Franciscans and the Verona Fathers are nearby, and every time ‘missionary’ comes up in the council, I am reminded of our Glenmary Fathers at Dahlonega. The Jesuits, of course, are represented by some of their giants, Cardinal Bea, Fathers John Courtney Murray, Gustav Weigel, and many others.

There are strong brotherly bonds among the members of these religious communities, and the mention of a Georgia collogue always strikes a spark of recognition.

ROOM WITH A VIEW

Not quite like the top of the Mart or Stone Mountain, but the view from my quarters in superb. The room is small, but there’s a 15 x 15 balcony made to order for these grand fall days in Rome. Before Mass, I looked out today, sunlight pushing aside a persistent mist; a shrine to Mary on the penthouse of the apartment across the street; a tenor singing something from Rigoletto, and a feminine voice telling him in exquisite Italian to shut up; all the early morning sounds of a city waking up. Then, tonight, from the same balcony, the sight of the hills of Rome in the distance, three church towers, the gay air of expectancy as the Romans prepare dinner at home or get ready for an evening out. And that same sun that vanquished the morning mist now conquered by the darkness rolling in from the Mediterranean. It’s a tempestuous city, as old as its own hills, and as new as the jets that swoop into the airport. A city without traffic lights, without any semblance of order or plan, and without an equal.

But Via Conciliazione will never be Peachtree.

Paul J. Hallinan

Archbishop Of Atlanta