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By Gretchen Keiser, Staff Writer

ATLANTA-If there was a mold, his friends say, Father Larry Hein, SJ, would break it. Or maybe dance out of it. At 17, right out of high school, he began studying to be a Jesuit priest and he was ordained after 13 years of preparation in the novitiate and in the study of philosophy and theology. His strict New Orleans mother dedicated him to the Lord at birth and always called him "Father Lawrence," although his full name was John L. Hein, said Betty Smith, a longtime friend and a well-known parishioner at the Cathedral of Christ the King. But the Second Vatican Council convened by Pope John XXIII invoked a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the Catholic Church and Father Hein drew the deepest breath he could of this vitality and then attracted others to live their faith with new freedom and openness. "After Pope John XXIII, Larry was blown over, just like the church," Smith said. "It was such a switch in his personality." Director of the Ignatius House retreat center in Atlanta for 16 years from 1961 to 1977, Father Hein died Dec. 22, 2001 in New Orleans at the age of 80. A Mass in his memory will be celebrated at Ignatius House on Monday, Feb. 4 at 10 a.m. In the mid-60s, Father Hein began holding nightly seminars, teaching lay Catholics about the groundbreaking documents of Vatican II. Later people began gathering on Wednesdays at Ignatius House for Father Hein's presentations on Scripture. "We started with the Acts of the Apostles and then went back to the Old Testament," recalled Van Waddy, a licensed marriage and family therapist, and mother and grandmother, who was part of the group. Starting with Genesis, they went through the entire Bible, a process that took years. "The room was jammed every Wednesday," she said. "We would start with a piece of Scripture. Then it was whatever moved in the room. He learned as we learned. What made it exciting was, even though he was the old prophet in the room, he was one of us. It really changed people's whole perspective on faith." He helped people realize that the Scriptures were not "something that happened to other people . . . What they talked about in Scripture was what we each go through. It was very liberating. We had to find it inside ourselves. It started us on a journey. He planted the seed and awoke a lot in us." He focused deeply on Jesus as the Lord of life "and that led him into a tremendous appreciation of Yahweh as the Father of all of us, as he was of Jesus. It all became very personal." One example, she said, was his perspective on the sabbath. More than a commandment to go to church once a week, it was a commandment to make reflection part of your daily life. "If you don't create a sabbath in your life, your spirit dies because you are into 'doing' and not into 'being,'" she said. "I have taken that as a central focus in life for myself and people I work with." Another example was his belief about living life as a cosmic dance. "Dance is a metaphor," she said. "No matter what you face, if you dance with it rather than resist it or fight with it, it moves you where you're supposed to be. He believed all of life was a dance . . . He always tried to break down barriers and set people free." Father Hein introduced them to Jewish traditions and writers and then to the Buddhist world, Smith said, not to teach the beliefs of a non-Christian religion but to learn about the culture. He also introduced them to the emerging Catholic writers, Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, and Jesuit Father Anthony DeMello. He was a great admirer of the Catholic philosopher and scientist Teilhard de Chardin. "It was absolutely fascinating. He was kind of ahead of his time," Smith said. Even as they ventured into new areas of study and thought, Father Hein had a gift for making the unfamiliar and abstract very connected to everyday life, Smith said. "Larry was an amazing experience. He zeroed in on where you were. He would open up visions of things you never thought of and it all made sense . . . He affected an awful lot of lives at a very deep level and a very challenging level . . . I feel like he was maybe, even, almost a saint, but he didn't act like it. He had a wonderful sense of humor." He brought guided imagery into the Ignatian retreat experience to help retreatants come more in touch with their spirituality. He drew music and art into his homilies, Smith said. He taught how silence was a gift to be treasured. He was gifted making contact with people in all sorts of stations in life, Smith said, citing the connection he made with her mother, a convert to Catholicism late in life, to whom he brought Communion. Her grown son, Clarence, and his bride received a mongrel puppy from Father Hein that became a family member, she said. At times the priest would dress up like a clown, make balloon animals and go visit children in the hospital. On the other hand, in a time of great loss, when one Cathedral family lost their son, he was the one giving the homily. On an ecumenical weekend retreat, at which parishioners from the Cathedral were joined by members of surrounding Protestant churches, he spontaneously broke into tears as he broke the Eucharist for distribution and told the congregation that "one day" the Eucharist could be shared. "He seemed to have the quality, wherever you were, he could be there with you. He could zip into your frequency," Smith said. "He was just a delicious gentleman, really." His 50 years of priesthood were almost exclusively spent giving retreats and as a retreat house director and retreat master. Hamilton Smith, music director at the Cathedral, said he vividly recalls making the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius with Father Hein in a one-on-one setting over 25 years ago. "He was a marvelous teacher." The lifetime Cathedral parishioner said he and his wife, Mason, were very close to Father Hein and profoundly influenced by him. "He had a seamless faithfulness," Mason Smith said. "He was an integrated person." Hamilton Smith recalled one of his observations, which could be misunderstood. "Larry used to say, 'Sometimes we need to free ourselves from creed, code and cult.' He is not saying doctrine is wrong or devotion is wrong. But he said it is very safe to stay within the box, but you're not experiencing the fullness of life in the Lord if you stay in the box. You're fearful." As a classical musician, Smith said, the introduction of guitar music at Mass following the Second Vatican Council was very difficult for him, but the priest helped him be more tolerant of other people's perspectives and, particularly, to always put the Lord at the center of his responses. "To this day, I think about what his perspective might be on a particular situation or issue," Smith said. "He was so honest. There wasn't a political bone in his body. He had such faith that he had no fear. You always knew exactly where he stood." Betty Smith recalled that after he left Atlanta for another assignment, he came back about a dozen times to give mini-retreats to the group and once, saw his first snowfall. "He had never been on a sled. The kids got him on a sled and he went right down the hill. He had more fun." "He was just a spiritual, holy guy who, I think, was not appreciated by some of the more traditional people. They didn't know what to do with him," Smith said. "At first he was just very profound," Waddy said. "He became funny. He laughed a lot and didn't take himself too seriously." After serving as chaplain and retreat director at the Cenacle in Metairie, La., from 1983 until 1998, he moved to Our Lady of Wisdom Health Care Center in New Orleans, where he served as a chaplain as long as he could. In 1996 he self-published "Compassionate Energies: Dancing the Cosmic Dance." He had been hospitalized frequently in late 2001 for blood clots and then asked to remain at Our Lady of Wisdom, where he died of pulmonary and cardiac failure surrounded by his friends. A Mass of Resurrection was celebrated in the chapel there on Jan. 3, 2002. At his request his body was donated to Tulane Medical Center and his cremated remains will later be buried in the Jesuit center at Spring Hill.