Richard R. Roach S.J. Memorial Photos - Funeral Homily - Funeral Eulogy (2) - Obituary Please scroll down to view and read each section.
Homily given by Fr. Ely,
S.J. at the Funeral Mass for Fr. Richard Roach, S.J.
Ruth Roach Pierson-we express our heartfelt condolences; Archbishop
Brunett, Bishops Elizondo and Tyson, Richard's brother Jesuits and concelebrating priests of the archdiocese, and parishioners
of St. John Vianney.
On September 14,
Fr. Roach gave his weekly homily to the parishioners of St John Vianney on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.
Many of you remember that homily. I am grateful to Constance Walker for making it available for me. Fr Roach began by pointing
out the incorrectness of the New Jerusalem Bible's translation of the key passage from Philippians: "Jesus humbled
himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross" (Phil 2:8). For this bold statement that correctly
translates the Greek text, Fr. Roach noted that the New Jerusalem Bible has a bland paraphrase. For Fr. Roach to depart
from the New Jerusalem Bible was no small thing, but this incorrect translation of a key text was too much.
"Jesus humbled himself and became
obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross." These strong words of Scripture had special meaning for
Fr. Roach because he was doing in his own life just what Jesus had done. Father Roach, accompanied by his rector, Fr. Pat
Howell, had received the news on August 18 that the more benign cancers he had been battling for over a year had now turned
to pancreatic cancer. The hope of recovery that he had cherished through all the many visits to doctors at the Seattle
Cancer Care Alliance, his frequent stays at the hospital, and much pain and discomfort, was now gone. Patti Reed, you went
through all of that with Fr. Roach and stayed with him to the end; he was deeply grateful.
To accept that news-as he did accept it-Fr. Roach had to humble himself and
become obedient unto death as every follower of Christ must do. And his Jesuit vocation with its vow of obedience recognizes
that we undertake our death just as we do any other mission. Under obedience, Jesuit superiors mission their men to various
ministries. Ten years ago, the Oregon provincial missioned Fr. Roach to come to St. John Vianney as pastor. And he obeyed
with all his heart. Probably Fr Roach was best known as a teacher who, through his homilies, restored to the parish its full
Catholic character. But, in a more hidden way, in confession and in other graced encounters, he was also a healer. Fr Roach
knew what it meant to be vulnerable and from that he understood how to reach out to others who were wounded. Many of you have
experienced the healing God worked through him. That was Fr. Roach's first mission to this parish. There was a second.
The new provincial,
Fr. Pat Lee who is with us this evening, when he learned of Fr. Roach's terminal illness, missioned him to die.
And Fr. Roach, obedient Christian and Jesuit that he was, accepted. In the same homily of September 14, Fr. Roach expressed
his commitment to the path in front of him: "In our parish there are many of us who know our mortality will arrive sooner
rather than later. We therefore prepare ourselves. We seek to live fully the time the Good Lord is giving us, and we seek
to prepare ourselves for the final journey. It is in the spirit of St. Paul and unworthily imitating my Savior that I go forward
to this inevitable, yet undetermined end." He remained faithful to that commitment.
Fr. Roach did not want to die. He loved life. He loved
the give and take of politics, he loved music and the theater, and great literature. He loved the Scriptures, liturgy, and
theological exploration. He loved his dog, Malcolm. Especially he loved life here at St. John Vianney with all of you. You
were his world, the context in which all these other interests found their home. But once he knew it was God's will, manifested
in the mysterious workings of his own mortal body, that he die, he chose to die, not happily but fully. In choosing he agreed
to enter into the dark night the journey to death entails. It was dying, undiluted, no sugar added. The only sweetener was
the love and care of so many faithful professionals and parishioners and the prayers we offered by his bedside. He was profoundly
grateful for both. He loved to say with us the Our Father. And he insisted, when he was still able, on beginning the prayers
with the sign of the cross. It wasn't a ritual nicety; he wanted everything to be under the saving mystery of Jesus'
liberating death and resurrection.
When Fr. Roach received the news on August 18 that he had a terminal form of cancer, he went home and opened the New
Testament, not looking for any particular passage, but just randomly as St Augustine had done at the moment of his conversion.
And he came upon the passage contained in our second reading for today, Romans 11:30-36. "For God has imprisoned all
in disobedience that he might have mercy on all" (Rom 11:32). God does not imprison us, of course, we imprison ourselves
and let ourselves be imprisoned by the seductions of the world we live in. The point is that our disobedience-even our disobedience-makes
way for God's mercy. O happy fault! Paul ends the passage in a cry of praise to the grandeur of God: "O the depth
of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways....For from
him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen" (Rom 11:33-34, 36). These words brought
great consolation to Richard and became food for his journey.
This passage from Romans, so full of mysterious confidence and confident
mystery, expresses in its own way the exaltation of the Cross,
about which Fr. Roach preached on September 14. And our Gospel reading from John's bread of life discourse repeats this
hope that so deeply consoled Fr. Roach in his illness: "For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the
Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him up on the last day" (Jn 6:40).
"Chastised a little," says
the first reading from the Book of Wisdom, which Richard chose, "they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them
and found them worthy of himself. As gold in a furnace he proved them and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
May Fr. Richard Roach now rest in peace with the Lord whom he served so faithfully and who has called him home.
Eulogy given by Fr. Topel, S.J. at the Funeral Mass for Fr. Richard Roach,
S.J. Richard
Roach, S. J.
Intro: I have here a very long text, but not as long as the homily Fr. Roach emailed me each
week. It is long because I knew that Fr. Ely would say most of the things I want to say, so I still have something to
say without repeating his message. But, like Fr. Roach, I've stapled the whole thing to the parish bulletin.
Richard Russell Roach was an outsider. As a boy, he was short, and he didn't like sports. His dedication
to the arts, especially theater, and voracious reading, set him apart from the other boys, and he always felt like an outsider.
Like many such outsiders in our culture, he endeavored to catch up, indeed, to surpass the others.
You want macho? He became an Air Force jet pilot. You want smarts? He became an intellectual. You
want argument? He became an impassioned debater of cultural, economic, historical, and theological issues.
But all along the line, God was with him. First of all his God-guided intellect led him to Roman Catholicism,
and so to surpass the religious practice of his parents. In many ways this was the frist turning point of his life.
Instead of finding his own way in the midst of so many opinions, he joined a tradition where many lines of thought and debate
were already settled. Instead of creating his truth, he found it, settled into it, and became its servant.
He entered the Society of Jesus, largely because of its intellectual tradition and its motto of the magis, everything for
the greater glory of God. As a Jesuit seminarian, he was an enfant terrible, soaking up what his professors taught,
and then going on to surpass them, too. He was thought a flaming liberal. He had found great intellectual mentors,
Bernard Lonergan in the Society of Jesus, and James Gustafson at Yale. But in the end, he felt that he must surpass
them, too.
In the turbulent post Vatican II era, where his brother Jesuits were "liberal", he saw the
clay feet of his heroes and his colleagues, and he retreated to a profound religious conservatism. This was a second
turning point of his life. For 20 years he lived an embattled existence as a professor of moral theology at Marquette
University in Milwaukee, and, indeed, wherever he was. Once again, he was an outsider, not only in the Catholic intellectual
community, but even in his religious family. He was a brilliant lecturer, and legion were the students whose lives he
transformed by one thought (so well expressed) or one class, or one course. But his great intellectual gifts bore no
scholarly fruits. He named his manuscript on moral theology "Woe, Ariel," after Isaiah's famous prophecy of
doom for the decay of Jerusalem. But the book was stillborn, and eventually his academic services were no longer required.
But there was one group in which he was not an outsider---his students whom he had brought to life. He was an
insider in the community of those who had been captivated by his message and had experienced his love for them. He was
an insider there because he was inside their minds and inside their hearts.
One of his closest friends summarized
his impact this way: Father had the terrible gift for making people have to decide whether or not to be honest with
themselves and with God. This seems partly why people are either fond of him or else want to avoid him, but even the
latter give him their grudging respect.
And so we come to a third turning point of his life, his arrival
at St. John Vianney in the fall of 1998. The parish was broken and fragmented when he arrived. Perfect:
in spite of his brilliant lectures, and his profound influence on students, he was in many respects, a broken man, something
of a failure, when he arrived. This parish gave him the opportunity to embark on a career which had always been his
forte, pastoral concern for others. Throughout his whole career, Fr. Roach had a profound desire, in the words of St.
Ignatius, "to serve souls." Throughout his seminary days, his days as a seminary professor, his days as an
academic professor at Marquette, he was a pastor of souls.
Sometimes this pastoring took long hours. Here
is an edited anecdote from a former student at Marquette that sums up this hidden work of those 25 years.
"Without Fr. Roach I would not be who and where I am today. He took a directionless but cocky junior in 1992,
humbled him, woke him, and showed him the way. ...He told me I had a gift to help people. He without question is the
reason I am a psychologist today.
I was a student in his Theology and Values class. As our friendship grew that semester,
I began to slack off on the class readings. When I took the final exam in his course I was unprepared, but arrogantly
believed our budding friendship would yield the "A" grade despite my lack of performance. Fr. invited me to
lunch that Friday of finals week. At lunch that day, he told me he was in charge of decorating the Jesuit dining room
with Christmas décor, and asked for my help. Of course I agreed. Halfway through lunch, he expressed his
surprise at my lack of performance on his final exam. I, of course, feigned surprise that I didn't perform well.
He told me I was going to get a "B". I was shocked. He then told me he would ask me a few questions
then and there and would give me a 2nd chance at the A. As I forked fish into my mouth he asked me questions about Vatican
II that I should have known for the course. I proceeded to give him the same lame answers I gave in the blue book on
the final. As he casually sipped his red wine, he told me I was still getting a B for the course. And minutes
later he still made me decorate the Jesuit residence in holiday décor. For three hours. As irrationally
angry as I was, I never respected him more than I did at that moment.
...Fr. and I would hang out on the east side of
Milwaukee at the coffee Traitor or the Pizza Man and talk about everything from politics, to church, to "what an amazing
actor Keanu Reeves is." I never learned more in my life...
Fr. Roach presided at my wedding ceremony
with my Methodist wife. I was thinking that not having a Mass would shorten the ceremony to about 25 minutes.
Even without celebrating the Eucharist, Fr. found a way to lengthen the ceremony to 60 minutes."
Imagine
the time spent on this one man multiplied a hundred times over during those 25 years as a professor.
Sometimes
the pastoring was just a word from the pulpit. Tram Nguyen, a corporate lawyer in Washington DC. writes, "Fr.
Roach delivered a homily during Sunday Mass at Columbia University, but included a message for the benefit of the law school
class that was graduating. He explained that the words "juris doctor" meant more than "doctor of laws."
The real meaning he explained, was, "teacher of the right thing to do." He encouraged us in our future work
as lawyers, to assume the role of teacher and to advise clients not only to follow the law, but more importantly to do the
right thing. ...In my work as a lawyer, I continue to look to the example he set and seek each day to earn the title
of "teacher of the right thing to do."
She was among the 12 of Father's best friends from
those 20 years who came from all over the continent last August to thank the father of their spiritual life. Typically,
he seized the opportunity to guide them, each and all, one last time.
Now at St.
John Vianney, this great gift came to fruition. Here pastoring was his whole life. These ten years were certainly
the ten happiest years of his life.
On the one hand, something of his "embattled" character remained
with him.
For some in the parish "Fr. Roach was not a warm and fuzzy guy. He could be impatient with
people and offend them without meaning to." At the beginning, the task of unifying the parish was daunting.
Each meeting with the pastoral assistant uncovered more of the hard work that lay ahead. It got to the point where before
she even began to talk he would say, "I am going to pack my bags now."
Since he had never been an academic
administrator, he would approach everything from the analytical view of the college professor, and from his own principles:
right is right and wrong is wrong. It took him time to learn that the best response to some conflicts is to hunker down
and let the storm blow itself out. He was especially prickly just before the celebration of the Sunday liturgy
when he wanted everything to be just right. As always his standards were high, and he was often impatient when ministers
had not met the standards. And of course under all of this was his native assertiveness about the boundaries of the
faith and the practice of the liturgy that some found unpleasant. His way or the highway. Many attacked him; some
left. He was wounded, but he persisted, and his way led eventually, inevitably, to a Catholic parish more unified
by love.
More important than his leadership style was his powerful preaching and teaching. I have
received letters from all over the country attesting to the power of a single homily which turned the writers' lives around.
Almost all of the letters I received from you indicated that Fr. Roach taught you more about what it meant to be a Catholic
than all the rest of your teachers. Like many professors, his basic unit of speech was not the word, or the sentence,
or even the paragraph. It was the 50 minute lecture. His whole wisdom drawn from vast study and his own personal
experience was poured out like a horn of plenty each week. Every element of the readings introduced a new, and sometimes
only vaguely related, topic. As one of you put it, "Father would often speak in paragraphs within paragraphs."
It was good that the printed version could be taken away for homework! But the overall effect was the coming together
of the disparate elements of your faith into a powerful synthesis that you could know and by which you could live. And
for this people came from all over to his Mass, and, ultimately, to the faith.
Beyond his preaching, his
teaching of Catholics seeking depth in their faith was profound and creative. He was a master at answering a question
in such a way that you always had to come up with a part of the answer yourself. In the long run, you became a much
better thinker and could then help others with faith questions.
But he was equally gifted with individual persons
seeking the faith. Here his pastoral sensitivity came to the fore.
A non-Catholic who comes to Mass
with her Catholic family speaks of his awakening in her own spirituality. Especially she remembers narrating to him
a dream in which Jesus' voice assured her that she did not have to struggle for control of her life, that he would look
after her. She came to Father asking what she should do. He answered that she did not have to do anything but
accept the message of peace. That discerning answer has enabled her to seek God in freedom.
An RCIA
candidate spoke of the peace and joy that his blessing at Mass conveyed to her; another spoke of his teachings helping her
realize that she had always been Catholic but didn't know it.
He was especially deft with intellectual types
such as the following:
The last thing in the world I ever expected to become was a Catholic. I was raised
to view all religions as fairytales and Catholicism as the most unbelievable. Father Roach responded to me perfectly.
I expected him to tell me to take it all "on faith," but instead he told me to use my intellect. He said,
"There is only one reason to become Catholic -- If you are seeking the Truth and you find it here." He welcomed
my questions, demanded questions. He always responded with respect and encouragement. When I doubted that I would
ever know for 'sure" what I believed, he said, "You're a lawyer. Treat this like a jury trial -- is
it more probably true than not?" After that conversation I asked to be baptized and received into the Church.
Those who had been away from the Church for years approached him with apprehension, but after some minutes into the
meeting with Fr. Roach they were in tears of joy for the kindness and compassion he communicated.
Finally,
Fr. Roach was a tender, compassionate confessor and spiritual director. He had an ability to cut to the chase, to help
others see their sins clearly and experience the healing power to change their lives.
My view: I suppose
at the end of a eulogy, I should communicate my personal love of my subject. Of his 50 years in the Society of Jesus,
I have known Fr. Roach for 46. I remember taking him to his first viewing of Ingmar Bergman's great film, The Seventh
Seal. As the lights came up at the end of the film I turned to him to see tears coursing down his cheeks. I remember
a fall in 1970, when I came to be with him after his heart attack at Yale and his subsequent years-long anguish that he might
not have time to make his mark on the direction of the Church and the Society of Jesus. I remember an evening in 1974
or 75, when I understood that we were crossing paths: I, from conservative to the progressive trajectory of Vatican
II, and he from liberal to a more conservative stance. I remember gently correcting his arrogant dismissal of other
intellectuals. Mostly I remember the last ten years when I was his confessor and spiritual director. How,
then, would a person who has known Fr. Richard Roach for so many years, formulate a "last word" for a man who was
too rich, too complex, for a single "last word?"
Like the most successful pastors, Fr. Roach's adherence
to the truth and his compassion for all who were approaching the truth, or veering away from it, came from his own interior
wrestling with God. This wonderfully holy man could not get past the fact that he was a forgiven sinner. His quest
for integrity held him to the impossibly high standard that Jesus gave us in the gospel and that the Church had communicated
to him. And his failure to reach all his hearers unreasonably haunted him. Perhaps his failure to do everything to which God
had summoned him was the root of his enormous compassion for every other sinner.
But here, at St.
John Vianney, as minister of the compassion of God, he found God's own compassion for him. He came to peace with
his long struggle from outcast to cherished member. Away from his battle with super liberal professors, his own theology
came back to center. Through the separate life you gave him here as pastor, he came to loving membership in his own
religious community at Arrupe Jesuit Residence. In the end he realized that in spite of his failures the God who had
always loved him had finally caught up with him. This was at root the message that he increasingly preached to
you all, in season and out of season. In the words of Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God rest him all road ever he offended."
God bless him for all the ways that he ministered to each and all of you. And God bless you for evoking in him the power
of God's compassionate love for all of us sinners.
Richard has departed for the eternal truth and love he always
sought. We feel deprived, but he left his good friend Peter a way to bear the loss. "Last summer in the rectory
I asked Richard if he was often sad now that some of his closest older friends such as Elizabeth Anscombe were gone.
He said "No, because in a way those people are always with me" even in death. He paused, and, obviously realizing
what I was thinking, he said, "Just as then I will still be with you."
And so he will be, for, at last,
here at Saint John Vianney, Richard became what he had been for so many students over so many years, the ultimate insider.
Perhaps I can conclude with one of your own vignettes. Father celebrated the funeral of a man who had just
come to the parish and died very suddenly of a heart attack. His wife was devastated. The funeral Mass was filled
with people who had flown in to celebrate this man and his wonderful, and now bereft, wife. At the conclusion of the
Mass as the casket left, Father gallantly offered his arm to the widow as they processed out. It was a very touching
and perfect gesture.
It was Richard Russell Roach.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord.
R. And let perpetual light shine upon him.
May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy
of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.
Eulogy given by Darlyn Sullivan at
the Funeral Mass for Fr. Richard Roach, S.J. I am humbled and honored tonight to share a few words
about Father.
When my husband and I moved to Vashon 10 years ago, Father had just been installed as the Pastor,
so I do not know SJV without Father. It was odd to be at mass last Saturday evening and know that he wasn't going
to celebrate another mass with us. That he wasn't down the street at the rectory praying for us. I feel, and
suspect many others here feel as well, that there is a void in my heart without him here.
As I pondered though,
his life of service, it became crystal clear that the only thing missing now is his physical presence. He has left us
a legacy that is our both our responsibility and privilege to carry out. Most importantly, he taught us about Christ
and challenged us to live Christ-centered lives. He had a keen sense of people and their needs in relation to faith
and God, and could find and capitalize on the "teachable" moments. It is, for many, what he said or did at
those pivotal times that people will remember him by. As one close friend recalled, "He revived my faith.
Catholicism became a choice again and not something I had to do." Another said (and some of us may be able to relate)
"he had the terrible gift for making people have to decide whether or not to be honest with themselves, and with God."
He taught us that Catholicism is not passive. You have to want it, you have to search, seek and fight for it, because
it isn't going to come to you on its own.
Secondly, he has instilled us with his passion for the pursuit of
knowledge. He loved nothing more than preparing homilies for us, and engaging in the robust intellectual debates they
sometimes ignited. When preparing for last years "Ash Wednesday homily he was discussing the idea of "ashes
to ashes and dust to dust with a close friend. This friend, with a sharp sense of humor said, "ashes to ashes,
dust to dust and if you don't repent you are all going to hell". Father paused, stared and then stated, "I
wouldn't have been that brief." All joking aside, I was inspired by his respect and support for those in their
journey for the truth, even when that journey hadn't led them yet to the truth he knew, patient in God's plan for
each of his flock.
The last legacy he has left us with is each other. He always spoke of the community and
being together as a parish family. He loved the principal mass. He looked forward to the study group preceding
the principal mass, and the pancake breakfasts that sometimes followed mass. He relished in the music at mass and found
comfort, peace and prayer in music. I suspect he will be looking for a choir of angels he can sing with. Maybe
if the microphone is left on we will be able to hear him.
For me, Father wasn't just my priest, he was my friend.
I don't have a corner on that market and have been so blessed to meet and become friends with people I have met through
him. His legacy also lives on through them.
In closing, when asked what his favorite passage in the Bible
was, he said, "It's all beautiful". When pressed, he stated this passage, "When he saw the crowds,
he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them saying, "Blessed
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for
they will be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the clean of heart,
for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are they
who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when they insult
you and persecute you and utter every king of evil against you (falsely because of me), for theirs is the kingdom of God."
(Matthew 5:1-10).
Blessed are to have had Father in our lives. May we all keep his spirit and legacy alive
in how we live our lives as individuals and as a parish community.
St. John Vianney Bulletin
Fr. Richard Roach, S.J. October 12, 1934 - November 7,
2008 Father Roach died on Friday, November 7,
2008. He was born on October 12, 1934. He entered the Society of Jesus on September 7,
1958 and was ordained on June 14, 1969.
There will be a Vigil on Wednesday, November 12 at 7:30 pm.
There will be time for personal prayer followed by a Rosary in the Sanctuary. There will be a light reception in the Social
Hall.
The Funeral is Thursday, November 13 at 7:00 pm. This will be followed by
a reception in the Social Hall.
Father Roach will be buried on Saturday, November 15 at 11:00 am at St.
Michael's Cemetary, Spokane, WA Seattle Times Fr.
Richard ROACH, S.J.
Pastor of St John Vianney Parish on Vashon Island, died in the parish
rectory on Friday, November 7th, after a long illness.
Richard Roach was born in Seattle
on October 12, 1934, and baptized as an adult at Blessed Sacrament Church on April 18, 1955, toward the end of his undergraduate
years at the University of Washington. Shortly after graduating, he joined the US Air Force as a jet pilot, serving for three
years before he entered the Jesuit novitiate in Sheridan, Oregon, in September of 1958. He pronounced his first vows as a
Jesuit in 1960, studied philosophy at Mount St. Michael's in Spokane, taught for three years at Jesuit High School in
Portland, OR, and began theology studies in Toronto in 1966. Fr. Roach was ordained a priest by Archbishop Thomas Connolly
at Seattle on June 14, 1969. As a newly ordained priest, he began doctoral studies under the noted moral theologian Dr. Jim
Gustafson at Yale University. Fr. Roach returned to the Jesuit theology program in Toronto, this time as professor of moral
theology. He taught at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for almost 20 years, and then spent a year as scholar-in-residence
at Columbia University's Catholic Campus Ministry before returning to Seattle where he has been pastor of St. John Vianney
Parish since 1998.
Fr Roach brought his great learning and intellectual energy to bear in the carefully prepared
homilies he delivered each week at St. John Vianney, always providing longer written versions for those who wanted them. Fr.
Roach deeply loved his parishioners, and they returned his affection, caring for him and supporting him during the long months
of his illness. He loved the Catholic liturgy and looked forward to the opportunities to gather his parishioners at the daily
Eucharist and especially at the weekly Saturday and Sunday Masses. One of his favorite ways of being with parishioners was
a weekly discussion group during the time between Sunday Masses.
Vigil service will be held Wednesday, November
12th, at 7:30 p.m. and the Funeral Mass of the Resurrection will be celebrated Thursday, November 13th at 7:00 p.m., BOTH
at the Parish Church of St John Vianney on Vashon Island.
Gifts in honor of Fr. Roach may be made to the retirement
fund of the Oregon Province of the Jesuits, PO Box 86010, Portland, OR, 97286-0010.
Please
sign the online guestbook at www.legacy.com
Hoffner Fisher & Harvey
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