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Back to Archive 2000
03/05/00
The Cardinal I Never Knew: George Mundelein
Last week saw the second anniversary of my being named a Cardinal
by Pope John Paul II. The day passed quietly, but it was for me
a moment to consider the office itself and to think a bit about
my predecessors, especially one who was styled, the first Cardinal
of the West.
Cardinals trace their office back to the early days of the public
organization of the diocese of Rome, after the era of persecution
came to an end in the fourth century. Special assistants to the
Pope in Rome had been called Cardinals already in the second century
and, with the end of government persecution, the title began to
be used for the pastors of the major Roman parishes. The College
of Cardinals took on its present structure in the early ninth
century and gradually developed into a body that not only advised
the Pope on local matters but also became a kind of senate of
the Church and an electoral college, with the responsibility of
choosing the Bishop of Rome. In the late twelfth century, Popes
began naming cardinals outside Italy. Each was given title to
a church in Rome itself, no matter the diocese he served in some
other part of the world. Every Cardinal is part of the clergy
of Rome, at the service of the Bishop of Rome, the Pope.
Over the centuries, the office took on trappings of honor and
royalty, with the Treaty of Vienna in 1815 and the Treaty of Versailles
in 1918 giving Cardinals the status in international law of princes
of ruling houses. Since there arent too many ruling houses around
these days, much of the more elaborate dress and protocol once
associated with the office have been mercifully simplified. The
task of advising the Pope, usually through serving on committees
in the Roman Curia, continues. And, after a Pope dies, the Cardinals
assemble from around the world as pastors of the Roman Church
in order to elect the Bishop of Rome, successor of St. Peter.
Among the six Archbishops of Chicago who have been named Cardinal
(including myself), I have heard or spoken to or known in some
fashion all but the first, Cardinal Mundelein. He died suddenly
in 1939, when I was two years old and still not adequately aware
of being Catholic. My sister remembers going on the street car
to Holy Name Cathedral with my mother and grandmother to see Cardinal
Mundeleins body lying in state, and my mother kept in her personal
prayer book a holy card with his picture. There was also among
her effects a small lapel pin, like a political campaign badge,
with Mundeleins face and the words: We mourn our loss.
The Catholics of Chicago had reason to mourn the loss of Cardinal
Mundelein. He created the modern Archdiocese of Chicago. Born
in Brooklyn and a priest and then auxiliary bishop of that New
York diocese, he came in 1915, at the beginning of the American
Century, to a city which still remembered its rising from the
ashes of the great fire. Growing like wildfire, Chicago became,
in many ways, the typical American city. At 43 the youngest U.S.
Archbishop, Mundelein quickly created in Chicago a system of administration
and financing which enabled him, even through the years of the
First World War and then the Great Depression, to organize Catholic
Charities, create the Catholic cemetery system, build parishes
and parochial schools, high schools and colleges, and found Quigley
Preparatory Seminary and the Archdiocesan major seminary in a
town that changed its name to Mundelein. He is buried behind the
altar in the seminary chapel. We all live in his shadow; in particular,
I live in a house with his paintings, his rugs, his dishes and
a huge fireplace with his coat of arms.
Cardinal Mundelein was a great initiator and administrator but
also, like any bishop, a teacher of the faith. In 1927, at exactly
the halfway point of his years as Archbishop of Chicago and three
years after he was named the first Cardinal west of the Allegheny
Mountains, he published a book called Letters of a Bishop to
His Flock. He explained in the preface to this collection of
letters and addresses that he had been asked to write an autobiography
but had refused. There were, he explained, really no outstanding
events or features in my life...and there is the ever-present
danger of taking too much to ourselves the credit for what has
been accomplished through us by the Holy Spirit. But he agreed
to publish a collection of his letters to the Catholics of Chicago,
because that would furnish a contribution to the contemporary
history of the Catholic Church in Chicago. The letters did not
belong to him but to those to whom they had been written.
What did Cardinal Mundelein write about? There were six groups
of letters: nine on Peters Pence; nine more on Catholic Charities;
nine on Catechectical instruction for Sunday sermons at Low Mass;
ten letters on the First World War and its aftermath; three letters
and an address on the Eucharistic Congress of 1926; and a last
group of letters on various unrelated topics, from a eulogy of
Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore to a request to help the Sinsinawa
Dominican Sisters raise funds for a college for working class
women, the original Rosary College which is now Dominican University.
Many letters speak of the plight of children, especially orphans
here, in Cook, Will and Grundy counties, and hungry children abroad,
in Ireland, Poland, Germany, Austria and Mexico. He wrote about
refugees, the education of women, the generosity of religious
Sisters, the home and foreign missions, the obligations of family
men. In 1922 he used a word were hearing about today, stewardship,
and he said that the opportunity to relieve others distress is
a mark of divine favor. Many times he described the miseries
of the poor in a great city and of the Churchs great contribution
to the city, especially through Catholic Charities and the Catholic
schools. He supported the Red Cross and the Liberty Bond drives
during the Great War and commanded a Te Deum at its end.
He wrote of the mysteries of the faith, and instructed his priests
to preach on the Creed, the Commandments, the Sacraments and prayer.
The Catechetical sermon cycle covered the whole subject matter
of the essentials of the faith in three years. Revealed religion,
he wrote, both challenges believers, especially in presenting
the danger of eternal damnation, and also comforts them. Gods
truth is a source of consolation.
What did Cardinal Mundelein sound like? The one tape Ive heard,
a recording of remarks at a dedication of a church, gives him
a clear, somewhat high-toned voice. He did not have what we think
of as a Brooklyn accent, but it was New York, something like
the accent of his friend, President Franklin Roosevelt.
What was his personal religious life like, what were his devotions
and practices? He evidently had a deep devotion to the Blessed
Virgin Mary. Many of the paintings he collected in Europe were
of Mary or pictured scenes of Christs nativity, with Jesus mother
and St. Joseph. The porcelain statues he acquired were all of
Mary. The ceiling of the living room in the Cardinals villa at
Mundelein has the initials AM (Ave Maria) in the plaster work.
Cardinal Mundelein knew the people who looked to him as their
bishop and, especially, he knew his priests. He worked to strengthen
the Catholic faith by founding and strengthening the institutions
of the faith at a moment when that was what was most needed for
the mission of the Church. For good or ill, he has been captured
by the Chicago myth of clout, which is a word we hear more often
than grace. Friendly cynics, of which Chicago has no dearth,
translated Mundeleins episcopal motto, Dominus adjutor meus (The
Lord is my help), as The Lord is my assistant. The best biography
we have of him, a fine piece of work, is called Corporation Sole,
almost as if it were unique to Mundelein or Chicago to protect
the assets of the Church by having the diocesan bishop be recognized,
in civil law, as a corporation sole. In fact, over half the Ordinaries
in this country are corporation sole, wherever the laws of the
State admit that form of incorporation.
No matter what he is in civil law, a bishop, even a Cardinal,
has to govern according to the canons of the Church. And no matter
when or where he governs, a bishop, even a Cardinal, does so aware
that Christ will ask him at his death whether or not he loved
the people given him to pastor. I hope and I believe Mundelein
did. I hope and pray I will too; but the people and the times
are different and so are the demands of the mission. God bless
you.
Sincerely yours in Christ,
Francis Cardinal George, OMI
Archbishop of Chicago
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