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When Fr. Bob Pelton died on October 16, 2020, an era ended in the history of Madonna House. Father Bob was the first priest ever ordained for the community (May 1963).

I’ve never met anyone before or since as intellectually brilliant as he was. He had a scope and a capacity for seeing relationship between utterly disparate realities that was truly astounding, and at times baffling.

I know that I could never do true justice to either his person or his many gifts. I can only give one person’s perspective, as I spent most of my 48+ years with the community near him—either receiving spiritual direction or working along side him.

Perhaps the first point that comes to mind can be reduced to a simple phrase: Think Big! That is one reason I chose for readings for the funeral liturgy excerpts from Colossians (1:22-29) and from the Gospel of John (6:51-58).

Fr. Pelton loved the Eucharist throughout his whole life as a Catholic, from his baptism and first Communion at Madonna House in 1956 till the end of his priestly life. Father Bob lived from and in the mystery of the Holy Eucharist and the aspect of Christ’s indwelling presence.

He thought about, experienced, and drank deeply from that tremendous, unfathomable mystery. And he loved that word—mystery—expressing as it does both the revelation of the coming of the Son of God in the flesh, and our own sharing in that through what is known as divinization.

Given his awareness of these things, combined with a thirst for perfection like no one else, he was always seeking the “perfect” answer, the “ultimate” insight, the most eloquent expression of the truth.

I could never persuade him, since the day I became editor of Restoration, that he could, after all, try again next month to say what was in his heart about this or that. No need for an ultimate insight in a monthly publication!

No, he couldn’t fathom trying for less when it came to matters of the Faith or of the Madonna House community he loved so deeply and gave his life for.

Here’s an example of how Fr. Bob looked at Ordinary Time in the Church’s liturgical cycle:

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“Some people best see God’s face in the immaculate stillness of winter, when a silent, universal white breathes with the hidden fullness of sound and color.

“Many others know him when the earth stirs and sends forth a million green messages in every square yard of grass, or when, with every tree a burning bush, autumn launches their souls across the brown fields of the dying year into the unchanging beauty of his splendor.

“As for me, when the sun stands highest, still, at the very peak of summer to fill the earth, the sky, my heart with an ocean of light so vast that it seems almost endless, it is then that I know even in my body that God made his home here, with us, in this passing world. Summer, I will always think, is truly ordinary time.” (Circling the Sun, p. 175)

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I also think that God challenged Fr. Bob to think ever bigger in his expectation of what the Lord wanted to do in his life. For example, he told me that one busy summer weekend, he begged the Lord to reveal to him six people visiting Madonna House who received that very day a tangible grace.

Sure enough, in the course of the day six different people came up to him and confided that they had received that day a significant grace. Somewhat bashfully, Father went to the chapel late that evening to thank the Lord for so personally answering his prayer. And he heard the Lord say to his heart in reply: “Next time ask for 12!”

A second phrase that must necessarily come to mind about the life of Fr. Pelton is Agony and Suffering. This, too, is part of our Eucharistic inheritance; as we share not only the new life Jesus brings, but in the agony that is part of the giving birth to eternal life in time and space.

That is why the reading from Colossians is also important and fitting, because St. Paul teaches that he must fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church.

Paul says at the end of this passage that “for this I toil and struggle with all the energy that he powerfully inspires within me.” The word translated as “struggle” here reads in the Greek agonizomenos.

Fr. Pelton knew this agony of the ministers of Christ’s gospel to a tremendous depth, and he could also say with the writer of Lamentations from the first reading of the funeral Mass:

My soul is deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say ‘Gone is my glory, and all that I hoped for from the Lord.’…my soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me (3:17-18, 20).

This share in Christ’s suffering focused especially on several points: first, abortion.

Fr. Bob could never accept that this fundamental issue could be compared with other issues of social concern such as housing, or poverty. This direct taking of innocent, defenseless life was for him the most unspeakable of actions, and he agonized over it day and night, night and day, for years and years.

It was as if he felt in his own body the reality of each life lost, and there was no word anyone could say, no deed anyone could do, that could console him about this, even if he rejoiced in any effort being made to save innocent life.

Along with this, Fr. Pelton loved and took on many, many people from all walks of life—men and women, younger and older, brilliant and of average intelligence or less, rich and poor, but mostly poorer.

He had a capacity for identifying deeply with the suffering and trials of others, and at times he would become either overwhelmed or obsessed with all this, and he didn’t always see clearly the relationship between the needs of individuals and the common good of the community in which he resided.

He and I would at times have painful discussions about some situations in the community, but since we each knew he was loved by the other, we managed to weather such trials.

I may not have agreed with or understood some of his points of view, but I also know that no one, particularly myself, handles infinity very well, and what is more infinite than the cry of human beings for love and understanding?

I also often thought of that consoling phrase from 1 Peter 4:8—Love covers a multitude of sins. And the fact is, there are many, many people who to this day are grateful for the tremendous gift of love they received from Father Bob Pelton—myself being one of them.

Father Bob also carried the agonies and sufferings of the Church in his heart’s prayer—particularly revolving around the liturgy and rebellion against the Magisterium. In this area, both Pope John Paul II and Benedict XVI were great consolations to him, even as the Church moved its uneven and painful way towards authentic reform.

Finally, a third point: the mercy of Christ is ever at work. Certainly, the sense of this springs also from the Eucharist, which has the power to bring deep peace and the mercy of God to the very depths of our hearts. And Fr. Pelton always had a very childlike heart, not only when his last illness became more advanced, but long before. He had a great sense of humor and the ability to laugh at himself.

As his life came nearer its end, I mentioned to him one day about some ongoing problem in the greater Church or in Madonna House or in our society today, and he replied something like this: “God is in charge and he will take care of everything.”

I knew then, that whatever his suffering from illness would entail, at some deep place in his being he had come to a profound trust in God’s sure and loving hand guiding all things to good for those who love him.

Or, as the reading from Lamentations continues in chapter 3: 21ff—But this I call to mind and therefore have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore will I hope in him.’

I thank God for Father Bob and for all the love of Christ he allowed to pour through himself in his lifetime. I also pray that the Lord forgive any failings of his, since none of us is perfect, even if we long so much for perfection.

I would like to give him the last word in this article, with a final quote from Circling the Sun:

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“The words of the Eucharist that the Church offers every day from the rising of the sun to its setting say it all: “This is my body…for you.”…

He became flesh for us. If we take and eat this bread of the divine humility, and drink from the cup of the Servant who was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, so that through his poverty we might become rich (2 Cor 8:9), we are plunged into the power that made the first light, and now has made all things subject to him.

By that same power he forever offers himself—for us. Now, if we want, we too can become perfect subjects of Love himself.

“He will teach us. He will show us how to spell love with our lives. He will give us many, a few, at least someone to serve. He will lead us deep within ourselves, to the place of true silence where the Father has already made his home in us, and the communion of saints has already begun. We will be with the Master forever as friends.”  (pp. 160-161)

Adapted from the homily given at the funeral Mass of Fr. Pelton, October 23, 2020, St. Mary’s chapel, Madonna House, Combermere.