Life or death? Life, we answer almost spontaneously. But it is not that simple. How far are we willing to die (or fight) to preserve life? Will we, to save another, give our own life for him -- “no greater love.” It is said that the talented Albert Sweitzer loved life so much that he would not kill an insect. Some of the bomb banners talk that way too.

A fine naturalist, Edwin Way Teale, wrote a book called Journey Into Summer, his account of a 19,000 mile-strip through the American summer by Teale and his wife. As fascinating as his comments on nature’s society -- prairie dogs, mayflies, the miceless house -- are his comments on the relation to man. In one he speculates why he freed one mayfly out of millions from the grass’ entanglement:

“Its progeny may live, may owe their lives to this act of ours. Why did we do it? We could hardly say. Here life was abundant. One more among so many -- what could it matter? Perhaps our reason was that we were on the side of life, and is so small a degree we had altered the balance of the world.”

Once they met a rattlesnake on a Nebraska road. They stared at it from the car window, about three feet from the reptile. “Its head, weaving from side to side...rattles blurred and shrilled...coils in constant motion.”

“I gazed at this fellow creature across an unbridgeable gulf. Nature is not always as we have her on a pleasant day. Good will toward all living creatures is not enough. Understanding that the deadly serpent was born with fangs and venom -- that it did not invent them -- is not enough.” “The mortal threat remains. The man of good will turns away from the venomous reptile with a troubled mind.”

No moral to this; just a few thoughts. Life is good, and we enrich ourselves when we are compassionate enough to free an insect caught in grass. But there is death in living things too, and we must be intelligent enough and quick enough to avoid it. Sin is like that.

A Prayer For Our Cardinals

All six are men of exceptional ability, spiritual guides and responsible leaders. Cardinal Shehan, the newest, and Cardinal Ritter are in good health. But Cardinal Spellman and McIntyre have paid the toll of long and arduous duties at the council, and Cardinal Cushing recently underwent an operation a few weeks ago.

Now Cardinal Meyer is recovering from a serious illness, the full effects of which will not be known immediately. This brilliant scholar and teacher has emerged gradually during the council sessions as an expressive and earnest churchman.

In the ceremony for a cardinal, he is reminded that his defense of the Church may entail martyrdom, sickness and suffering because they spent themselves in their duties. We should think of this when we see Cardinals Spellman taking off for his Christmas visits to troops stationed all over our globe; Cushing working for the funds he uses for a thousand good purposes; Ritter leading the new movements of the Church in the United States today; McIntyre building parishes and schools for a bulging metropolis; Meyer spending himself in Chicago’s pastoral apostolate and St. Peter’s conciliar meetings. And now comes another American pastor, courageous and balanced, quiet and articulate, Cardinal Shehan.

Lord, give them strength. The Church in America would be poor without them.

Breaking Bread In Charleston

On February 22, I had the privilege of installing the new Ordinary of the See I once occupied -- Bishop Ernest Unterkoefler in Charleston. Here is one rite of the Church that is simple and silent. Two of us, the administrator (Msgr. Joseph L. Bernardin) and I led the new bishop to the throne, and I handed him to his crozier. Not a word was spoken.

But this installation had many unusual features. Charleston has one present bishop and four living ex-bishops. (Bishop Russell, my predecessor, was there). The toastmaster welcomed the guests to the installation -- “one of a series,” he pointed out.

A splendid new Mass in English was composed by Robert Blanchard, and sung by a choir of about forty, with four brass instruments accompanying. The people joined in every proper place; the rousing “Holy God, We Praise Thy Name” was sung by both people and choir in an elaborate, contrasting style.

Bu the central fact was the Mass of Concelebration, offered by the new bishop and eight of the diocesan consultors. It took us all back to apostolic times -- all nine celebrants speaking the words of consecration together; each consuming the Host and Precious Blood himself.

Four of our Atlanta priests attended. Charleston is related to us as our mother -- once, North and South Carolina and Georgia constituted one diocese; and as our daughter, one of the five dioceses in the Province of Atlanta formed three years ago.

John England, the first bishop, must have walked the Cathedral aisle in spirit and in joy as this new chapter opened in the life of the sixth and oldest diocese in the United States.

Paul J. Hallinan

Archbishop of Atlanta