November 17, 2006 - Issue #23
Local News | Opinion/Editorials | Letters to the Editor
Local News
Military wives find solace in church
Jaylyn Reaume Smith can’t say her future husband didn’t warn her.
"The first night I met him, he said, ‘I’m going to Iraq so you can back out now if you want,’ " the petite blonde said. But love conquers all, and in June of this year, Smith married her young Army infantryman, who was deployed four months later.
Now, she, like thousands of American women and a good number of men, spends the days and long nights thinking of a spouse away at war.
In a nation where most people see the war as a news event, what’s it like to be so intimately involved? And how much support does the church provide?
The Anchor spoke to three Catholic women whose husbands are or have been in Iraq. Each shared her thoughts on stress and faith in wartime.
"Father Gary was amazing," said Smith, who attended marriage preparation with her fiancé at Holy Family Cathedral.
Dominican Father Gary Cappleman told them to be sure and come back when deployment drew near. Three or four days before Smith’s husband left, Father Cappleman offered a special blessing and presented the young soldier with a cloth copy of Psalm 91 ("You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord…") to carry in his pocket, a gesture which deeply touched the young couple.
Smith, 20, said she is fortunate to live near her parents, both of whom work at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Church. The close connection brings extra prayer support. The church foyer exhibits a red, white and blue display of parishioners serving in the armed forces, and prayers are frequently offered at Mass for the troops and Iraqi civilians, as well as for an end to war.
Yet Smith sometimes feels a lack of sensitivity in the city, like the day she opened the morning paper just one week after her husband and hundreds of other area residents were deployed. There, on the front page, was a story about what the army does with the material remains of soldiers, and on the back page, a pair of empty boots.
Can’t the newspaper understand how incredibly painful this was to those left behind? she asked.
Ashlee Bliss Hyde is another young military bride. She and her boyfriend Dennis married in July when they found out he would be deployed. Dennis Hyde also left in October, with the 425th Alpha Company.
"It was difficult," Hyde said. "It’s still difficult."
Lack of concrete information adds to the stress.
"I can’t know his exact mission or where he’s sent," added Hyde, who believes her husband is probably somewhere in the vicinity of Baghdad.
Then there’s waiting for phone calls. The families have to pay for their own phone calls, although the troops have access to limited e-mail time.
"At first, I heard from him every other day," Hyde said. "Then, it was each week. It’s been three days now."
One day, Hyde rushed to catch the phone only to discover she’d missed a call from Dennis.
She was devastated.
"Spouses and families are what keep them going," she said.
And what keeps her going?
"When the stress hits I run to my parents’ house."
Hyde also finds support from a group of women at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish, where she was confirmed but not initially very active. Hyde attends the University of Alaska Anchorage, and partially pays her expenses by baby-sitting. She began baby-sitting for Katie Reed, who launched Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration at the parish, and soon began working for several women who became for her a bulwark of spiritual support and encouragement.
Hyde now has her own weekly hour of adoration, which she observes in the wee hours of the morning.
"If I didn’t have that commitment, I probably wouldn’t be spending that time in prayer," she said. "God is talking to me. Without it, I wouldn’t feel so trusting."
Karen Forster has a slightly different experience than the two young brides. When her husband, Kevin, a career Alaska National Guardsman, was called up to go to Iraq in 2005, he was 49 years old and they had been married for 25 years.
Forster belies the idea that to support the troops you must support the war.
"I don’t agree with the war," she said flatly.
She thinks it’s especially hard physically on the men in their late 40s and 50s who have been called up.
"At the predeployment meetings, we knew most of the fellows. But it was interesting to hear someone going off to war get up and introduce themselves and say, ‘This is my wife of 32 years. We have four children and six grandchildren.’ "
Despite her misgivings about the war, she and the Forsters’ two daughters, Katy and Sarah, rallied around Kevin and the other guardsmen. Kevin was a flight engineer on C-23 cargo planes, but had to return to the U.S. after four months due to illness.
Although it’s hard no matter what the age, Forster thinks 25 years of a strong marriage provided extra support.
"You know you can get through it together," she said.
The Forsters are active members of Holy Cross Parish, and in their time of need the faith community was there to offer support.
Members of Holy Cross sent numerous gifts, cards and letters to Kevin, Forster said. The parish newsletter, which goes out periodically in the bulletin, listed the names and addresses of parishioners serving overseas.
Someone in the parish started a collection of essentials to be sent to the troops.
And Forster said she received at least a couple of phone calls a week from parishioners offering support.
"A couple of men in the parish gave me their phone numbers to call if I needed help, and we received more invitations than usual for Sunday morning brunch."
Forster is especially close to Precious Blood Sisters Loretta Luecke and Joan Oberle, who live in the parish "and were constantly praying for me and checking on me." Sister Luecke is the parish administrator.
"So many of my personal friends are at Holy Cross, I’m not sure where the lines are drawn between friends and parish," Forster said.
Perhaps what the three women’s experiences suggest is that, in a true faith community, there aren’t any lines between friends and parish.
Archdiocese celebrates All Souls’ Day
A statue of Jesus stands above a miniature artificial skeleton at Holy Family Education Center in downtown Anchorage. Apples, flowers and candles crowd around the little skeleton, along with pictures, candies and memorials to the dead.
The scene is part of an ancient Latin American tradition that has become an annual celebration in the Archdiocese of Anchorage.
In many Latin American countries, the Catholic feast of All Souls’ Day, Nov. 2, is celebrated in connection with an age-old cultural observance called the Day of the Dead.
The convergence of culture and Catholic faith is marked by religious prayers for those who have died and might still be in purgatory. It also includes a celebration of the lives that have passed out of their mortal bodies.
"In Mexico, most of the people celebrate in the church and then they go to the cemetery — sometimes they spend all night there, like a picnic," said Ishmael Aviles, the archdiocese’s Hispanic ministry coordinator.
Aviles, who grew up in Puerto Rico, said the importance of the Day of the Dead permeates much of Latin America’s cultural and religious life.
"I remember my dad used to light candles for every single dead in the neighborhood," he said. "We used to go to the cemetery and play guitar and spend hours and hours there."
Last year, the archdiocese held its first Hispanic All Souls’ Day Mass in an effort to reach out to the Hispanic community by honoring an expression of authentic religious culture, Aviles said.
"We are celebrating with joy our departed loved ones," he said.
The Day of the Dead can be traced back at least 3,000 years to ancient Aztec and Mayan civilizations, in which the celebrations marked the belief that death is not the end of human existence.
Dominican Father Paul Scanlon, who serves at Holy Family Cathedral, spent 10 years ministering in Mexico, where the Day of the Dead enjoys some of its largest observances.
"Everybody goes to the cemetery and has a picnic on the gravesite," he said. "They put a blanket down and eat there. It is a giant market day at the cemetery — people selling flowers, food, and mariachi bands singing."
An estimated 250 Anchorage Catholics attended the second annual Hispanic All Souls’ Day Mass this year, Father Scanlon said. Rather than braving the cold to visit the dead at Anchorage Memorial Park afterward, though, they celebrated with a fiesta at the Holy Family Education Center.
While All Souls’ Day is still a holy day celebrated at many parishes, Father Scanlon said it was once a much larger celebration for U.S. Catholics.
"It used to be a big day in America," he said. "Priests used to celebrate three Masses, and it was a time to focus and pray for those in purgatory."
Father Dibb, longtime rural teacher and pastor, dies at 81
Jesuit Father Bill Dibb passed away Nov. 2 at Jesuit Infirmary in Spokane, Wash. He was 81 years old. Father Dibb spent 38 of his 46 years as a priest in Alaska, serving in all three dioceses.
Born Aug. 18, 1925, in Salem, Ore., he fought in the South Pacific with the First Marine Division during World War II. After the war ended he enrolled at Seattle University, and in 1949 he entered the Jesuit Novitiate in Sheridan, Ore.
Having discerned a missionary vocation, Dibb requested and received an appointment to teach in Alaska at Holy Cross Mission (during the 1955-1956 school year) and Copper Valley School (1956 to 1957). After his ordination in 1960, Father Dibb was assigned to Holy Rosary Parish in Dillingham, where he spent two years as pastor. He took his final vows at Copper Valley School in February 1964 and left his Dillingham parish a few months later, going on to serve in communities including Mountain Village, Russian Mission, Nenana, Pilot Station, Anchorage, Fairbanks, Juneau, Yakutat and Seward.
His years of service in rural Alaska were not without their challenges, but Father Dibb faced them with resolve and, frequently, a sense of humor. On New Year’s Eve 1964, Father Dibb accidentally drove into a Yukon River overflow while traveling by snowmachine between Marshall and Pilot Station, freezing his feet and suffering third-degree frostbite. He was evacuated to Anchorage and spent most of 1965 recuperating and planning to set up an "urban apostolate for Alaska Natives," according to Jesuit Father Louis L. Renner’s "Alaskana Catholica: A History of the Catholic Church in Alaska." That fall, Father Dibb returned to Copper Valley School, where he hoped to find warmer weather.
"No such luck," he said at a 2004 gathering of former Copper Valley School staff. "We couldn’t get the temperature in the men’s dorm over 45 degrees."
In the early 1970s, Father Dibb participated in his first Marriage Encounter weekend and began his ministry to married couples. Throughout the remainder his years in Alaska, Father Dibb advocated for the program, introducing it in the Diocese of Fairbanks in 1975 and the Diocese of Juneau in 1976. In the 1990s, he added Retrouvaille to his list of interests, engaging in Retrouvaille ministry in Fairbanks, McGrath and Anchorage’s Holy Spirit Center.
Father Dibb’s legacy is felt particularly in the Fairbanks diocese, which grew significantly at his urging in the mid-1970s. When Father Dibb was assigned to be rector of the Sacred Heart Cathedral parish in 1974, Sacred Heart was "technically, the one and only parish for the whole of Fairbanks and the North Star Borough," according to "Alaskana Catholica." In the course of his five years at Sacred Heart, the Diocese of Fairbanks established two new parishes — St. Nicholas Parish in North Pole and St. Mark’s University Parish — and separated Immaculate Conception Parish from Sacred Heart, to which it had been joined years before. Then, in the late 1970s, Father Dibb began celebrating Mass in schools in the Two Rivers and Fox areas north of Fairbanks. This faith community became another new parish, St. Raphael, in the mid-1980s.
Eventually, poor health and failing eyesight curtailed Father Dibb’s missionary work. In 2000, more than four decades after his first assignment in Alaska, Father Dibb left the state, entering the Jesuit Regis Community in Spokane, where he remained until his death.
Father Dibb is survived by his sisters, Catherine Moloney of Walnut Creek, Calif., and Mary Jo Downey of Henderson, Nev.
Visitation, a Rosary and Mass of Burial were held for Father Dibb at the Jesuit House Chapel in Spokane on Nov. 10. His cremated remains were committed to the Oregon Province Cemetery the next morning. A memorial service will be held Nov. 17 at the Chapel of St. Ignatius at Seattle University.
Donations in memory of Father Dibb may be sent to the Jesuit Senior Fund, Society of Jesus, Oregon Province, P.O. Box 86010, Portland, OR 97286.
Sister Collins says farewell to Alaska
One of the maxims about living in Alaska is that life is transient and friendships often yield painful goodbyes.
With the departure of Mercy Sister Patricia Collins, who is leaving the state to be closer to the Mercy motherhouse in New York, that adage once again proves true.
Sister Collins, who came to the archdiocese 28 years ago, has made countless friends, first at St. Anthony Parish, where she served for five and a half years, and then at Our Lady of Compassion, a long-term care facility, later renamed Providence Extended Care.
Sister Collins officially retires as director of mission integration and spiritual care at that facility Dec. 1.
"It’s time to retire," the energetic 83-year-old said, "but it’s very hard to leave here. I’ve had twenty-eight wonderful years."
When Sister Collins moved here in 1978, she joined a lively group of Mercy Sisters originally recruited by Anchorage’s first archbishop, Joseph T. Ryan. For years, she was part of a special triumvirate at the Mercy convent: Sister Arlene Boyd, Sister Kathleen O’Hara and Sister Collins were universally known simply as "the Mercies."
Sister Boyd returned to New York last year; Sister O’Hara remains active in the archdiocese.
When asked what her first job at St. Anthony entailed, Sister Collins responded with a laugh: "Whatever Monsignor Cowgill told me to do." Monsignor Francis Cowgill was the longtime pastor at St. Anthony.
Her duties included being the director of religious education, visiting the sick and providing hospitality for the parish. Although she left St. Anthony in the early ’80s, she retains close friendships there, and the parish is organizing a farewell Mass and reception for her later this month.
Barbara Edwards has known Sister Collins since her days at the parish, and along with Lorrie Horning and a bevy of other St. Anthony parishioners, is planning the Nov. 28 celebration.
"She has touched so many aspects of people’s lives," Edwards said. "She’s so sharp and so witty. She keeps in touch with everything — she follows politics, she follows all of our families as they grow."
After her years at St. Anthony, Sister Collins became the pastoral care director at Our Lady of Compassion, and later moved into her present position at Providence Extended Care. During her 23 years at the facility, Sister Collins oversaw spiritual care, ethics and the Providence mission, and was known for her ability to remember the names of an ever-changing list of 200 residents.
A New York native and one of seven children, Sister Collins joined the Sisters of Mercy in Albany, N.Y., as a 17-year-old public high school graduate.
Like many sisters of her day, the young Sister Collins devoted years to education, teaching kindergarten, adult education and college before heading for Alaska.
In the past year, medical problems have dogged the hardworking chaplain. A broken hip suffered last year only kept her away from work for a time. But a subsequent fall resulted in back surgery and persuaded Sister Collins that it’s time to slow down.
That’s slow down — not quit. If her doctor permits, she hopes to return to the convent at Rensselaer, N.Y., across the river from the motherhouse in Albany, before Christmas. And she’s already planning to keep busy visiting the sick.
In addition to Sister O’Hara, three other Mercy Sisters serve the archdiocese: Sister Jean Pyper works at Catholic Social Services, Sister Joyce Ross is parish director at Our Lady of the Angels in Kenai, and Sister Carol Ann Aldrich is parish director at St. John the Baptist Parish in Homer.
Edwards hopes that Sister Collins’ many friends will bring pictures, written anecdotes or other memorabilia to the reception to include in a memory book.
Items may also be sent to St. Anthony Parish.
Mass will begin at 7 p.m. Nov. 28, with a dessert reception afterward. The public is welcome.
Silver spirituality
How can the church best address the needs of Alaska’s surging senior population?
Imagine the day when more than 120,000 Alaskans are age 65 or older.
That moment is less than 20 years away, according to predictions by the Alaska Commission on Aging, the state group that advocates for older Alaskans.
Alaska mirrors a national trend; the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that by 2030 one in five U.S. residents will be older than 65.
The impact on churches, medical facilities and social institutions has political and religious leaders scrambling to meet the growing needs.
Last month, the Alaska Physician Supply Task Force said the state will need nearly twice as many physicians to service an elderly population that is expected to triple in the next two decades.
Those studying the national phenomenon say the so-called "graying population" has been triggered by a combination of longer life expectancies, low birth rates in recent years and the post-World War II baby boom.
The spiritual and social responsibilities to an aging nation have grabbed the attention of the Catholic church from the Vatican down.
Anticipating the growth of older populations in both Europe and the United States, the late Pope John Paul II wrote a letter in 1999 urging societies to respect and care for the elderly.
He cautioned against what he saw as a growing tendency to give priority to immediate human usefulness and productivity, while marginalizing the elderly.
"Such a mentality frequently leads to contempt for the later years of life, while older people themselves are led to wonder whether their lives are still worthwhile," the pope said.
Later that year, a statement by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops acknowledged that the U.S. faces an "unprecedented situation" in which the needs of a growing elderly population must be attended by the church.
"How the faith community relates to its older members — recognizing their presence, encouraging their contributions, responding to their needs, and providing appropriate opportunities for spiritual growth — is a sign of the community’s spiritual health and maturity," the bishops said.
In the Archdiocese of Anchorage, parishes are increasingly reaching out to the elderly.
"The biggest thing is just for us to not forget about them and to visit them," Anchorage resident Teri Perez said.
Perez is a member of The Legion of Mary, an international lay Catholic apostolate.
In Anchorage, the local group is particularly active in praying with and bringing sacraments to elderly and homebound Catholics.
"They are very prayerful people and they want to receive the sacraments every week," Perez said of older Catholics. "But they are also very lonely."
Perez began visiting and bringing Communion to the homebound 16 years ago. Since then, the need for volunteers has increased significantly, she said.
"We don’t have enough people to go around for them," she said . "Their population has grown so much since I started."
Despite increased parish-based van services, hospital visits, social outings, Bible studies and other ministries, volunteers say the needs are still greater than they can meet.
As people age, their busy families often lack time or resources to address their needs, 70-year-old Mary Jones said.
Jones is a parishioner at St. Patrick Church in Anchorage, where she helps lead a social and recreational group called Saintly Seniors. The goal is to connect older residents to a larger community, both inside and outside the church.
"We see seniors who live alone or in assisted living," she said. "We get put in smaller and smaller boxes until we are an urn on the fireplace that nobody knows what to do with."
Many senior citizens become isolated after a spouse’s death, which is often compounded when their children tend to live far away, Jones said.
"So many of our relatives are somewhere else and we need a little help," she added.
Those who minister to older Catholics say the sacraments are a great source of comfort to the elderly.
Virginia Carter, 89, heartily agrees.
Sitting in a small chapel at the Anchoage Pioneer Home, Carter wrapped her frail fingers around a Communion chalice and lifted the blood of Christ to her lips. Her hands were steady and her eyes fixed on the sacrament.
Carter can no longer drive to Holy Family Cathedral but is grateful for the priests who celebrate Mass each Tuesday at the Pioneer Home.
"This is a godsend," she said.
Fellow 89-year-old Valerie Lowder agreed.
"We are really lucky to have someone come say Mass for us like this," she said.
Dominican Father Paul Scanlon told the gathered faithful at the Pioneer Home to embrace Christ.
"In your old age, in your loneliness, just remember that Jesus is with you," he said. "Today he is here to feed us with his very person — with his body and blood."
The importance of the sacraments for older Catholics is something Chaplain Dona Boschee noticed at Providence Alaska Medical Center in Anchorage. The sacraments bring order and meaning for many of them, she said, including those suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.
"Once they get to chapel, they seem to know where they need to be," Boschee said. "The sacraments, especially the body and blood, are so precious for them."
As with others who minister to older Catholics, Boschee said, she’s always looking for more volunteers.
No retiring from the Gospel
While their physical needs may be great, older Catholics still have a spiritual mission.
A few years before his death at age 85, Pope John Paul II urged his fellow aging Catholics to live the end of their lives with abandonment for God.
"It is a time to be used creatively for deepening our spiritual life through more fervent prayer and commitment to the service of our brothers and sisters in charity," he wrote in 1999.
Older Catholics can offer spiritual advice and pass on family history and wisdom, the pope said. He also encouraged healthy senior citizens to use their energy and retirement years to further the work of the Gospel and care for those who are ill.
Perez said the work of older Catholics through prayer is perhaps their most important work of all.
"They can offer up their suffering for us all and they can be the best prayer people in the church," she said.
Editorial
Father Bill Dibb may be gone but his good work in Alaska lives on
"On the second day of November 2006, Father William C. (Bill) Dibb quietly passed away at the Jesuit Regis Community Infirmary in Spokane, Wash. Bill left behind a close, loving family, a Jesuit community that honors his memory and a myriad of friends all over Alaska and the Pacific Northwest."
So begins the official obituary issued earlier this month by the Oregon Province of the Society of Jesus for Jesuit Father Bill Dibb. The obituary goes on to relate his military service, educational history and contributions to the church in Alaska and beyond.
What the obituary doesn’t include — what no obituary could possibly effectively convey — is the impact Father Dibb’s lifetime of faith and leadership had on the people of Alaska.
Here was a man, known simply as "Father Bill" to most Alaskans whose lives he touched, who served in nearly every corner of the state, who was a teacher, a minister, an evangelizer to generations of Alaska Catholics, a priest who really and truly lived the call to "go and make disciples."
Those people who had the good fortune to know him well, to have him as a pastor, teacher or spiritual adviser, who welcomed him into their homes and hearts and lives, will remember his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his resilience and sense of humor.
Like his close friend, the late Father Ernest Muellerleile, Father Bill was a missionary who felt called to serve the people of Alaska and help the northern church grow and flourish. From Dillingham to Nenana, Juneau to Glennallen, and all points in between that had the good fortune to experience Father Bill’s pastoral care, one can find people to whom the mention of his name conjures smiles, warm feelings and happy memories. He ministered particularly to married couples and was committed to helping recipients of the sacrament of matrimony grow in Christ through Marriage Encounter and Retrouvaille. His work lives on in the many couples whose marriages he helped ground in faith, love and respect.
Father Bill also nurtured and encouraged the youngest members of his many congregations. There must be many young Alaska Catholics (including the editor of this newspaper) whose earliest Mass-going memories are of being called up with other children to join hands with Father Bill in a circle around the altar as they prayed the Our Father.
Those who knew Father Bill well will tell you he had struggled with heart trouble off and on for years. It was his "bad" heart that took him away from the state where he had spent 38 years loving and nurturing and doing God’s work, and two weeks ago his heart finally stopped.
Father Bill Dibb’s heart may have beat its last here on Earth, but here in Alaska, his work — his heart — lives on, in the parishes he tended, the people he loved, the lives he touched.
Anchor notebook
A publication like the Anchor that plays a vital role in such a vibrant and diverse faith community deserves an editor who can dedicate all of her energies to reaching into that community to draw out those stories waiting to be told and to producing a compelling, accurate and thought-provoking publication. As a full-time graduate student, I am not able to commit to the Anchor the level of love and attention it deserves, and it is with regret that I have decided to step down as editor. I have enjoyed being the editor of your archdiocesan paper and hope to continue to watch it flourish.
— Maia Nolan
Letter to the Editor
Why no female priests?
I enjoyed Joel Davidson’s column ("Superman ‘priest’ wears a blue cowboy hat," Oct. 20) about his son copycatting the gestures of the priest at Mass — until the line: "The priesthood, though, like other professions, should be a natural and viable option for Catholic boys." Joel, how are you going to explain to your daughter that priesthood is neither viable nor natural for her?
Our children are pretty much grown now. To this day I can’t honestly answer why our daughter’s potential calling to serve as a priest is denied. I wish you better luck than I had trying to explain this situation to our little girl.
Father Ron Rolheiser’s column on the facing page might give you pause when trying to formulate your answer. Perhaps an institution that shuns half of its potentially eligible leaders and then puts those that qualify between a celibate rock and a hard place needs to take long look at itself with childlike honesty.
Anchorage