Supplements

CURRENT ISSUE

The ‘Inner Man’
From Suffering to Hope and Joy
The Journey of the Rev. Robert D. Gore
By
Bishop Edward K. Braxton

The day after the celebration of the Liturgy of Christian Burial for the Reverend Robert D. Gore on Monday, January 23, 2011, I departed for a gathering in Israel of more than two hundred bishops from all over the world. Walking in the footsteps of Jesus in Bethlehem, Nazareth, and Jerusalem, I had the opportunity to pray often for the Priests, Deacons, Religious, and Christian Faithful of the Diocese. The assembly took place at the Domus Galilaeae at the summit of the Mount of the Beatitudes. In contrast to the frigid, snow-covered landscape of southern Illinois, the Mount was sunny and bucolic. Walking near the grazing cows and goats on a hillside as unspoiled
as it was two thousand years ago, I meditated on the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of St. Matthew and the Sermon on the Plain in the Gospel of St. Luke. Later praying the Rosary in the radiance of a peach and lavender sunset illuminated by golden rays of sunshine, I prayed in a special way for those dear to me who have died in the hope of sharing in the full joy of the Resurrection. I prayed most intently for Father Gore, whose gentle remains had so recently been taken to their place of rest.

During the past five and one half years, I have had many visits and conversations with dear Father Gore. These have been at my residence, at the rectory at St. Augustine of Canterbury in Hecker, at the Meredith Memorial Home, at Four Fountains Convalescent Center, and, regrettably, most frequently at St. Elizabeth Hospital.
I remember our first visit well. Already retired due to a variety of ailments, Father Gore came to see me shortly after my installation. He shared with me his pastoral experiences in the Diocese as well as his serious health problems. To my surprise, he said he felt strong and well enough to return to ministry in a small parish. He said he wanted to do this because he loved being a priest, because he saw the urgent need for priests, and because he wanted to show his support for me personally and for my ministry. On Nov. 16, 2005, Father Joseph D. Hansmann, Pastor of St. Augustine Parish in Hecker, died and I appointed Father Patrick Okwumuo, one of our first Fidei Donum priests, to serve there temporarily. Later I invited Father Gore to assume the pastorate. He did so with quiet enthusiasm. The People of God eagerly welcomed him. He persevered even when depression and other health concerns emerged anew. As time passed, we spoke often. He wanted to continue to serve, but he knew his
limitations were taking their toll. He wanted what was best for the parishioners. He seemed
relieved when he finally retired. He looked forward to moving into the Hincke-Sense Residence.

Our last visit was Saturday, Jan. 16 at St. Elizabeth Hospital. Because he had been in and
out of the hospital more and more frequently, I was quite concerned. When I arrived, he was sleeping deeply though not peacefully. His expression led me to believe that he was in pain. I asked if he could receive additional pain medication. While he opened his eyes wide twice,
he did not seem to see me. I stayed at his bedside for about two hours. I simply sat there watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing, quiet moments of compassion, “suffering with.”
I prayed the Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary. I anointed him again and gave
him a fragment of the Eucharist. When I departed after whispering the great gratitude of the Diocese for his nearly forty-six years of faithful service to the Body of Christ into his ear and blessing his warm forehead, I thought to myself, “I may never see Bob again.” Later that evening, I called his brother, Donald, and described my visit and told him of my serious concerns. I was amazed when I learned that Fr. Gore had not only returned to Four Fountains but had also had a lively conversation with Bishop Schlarman. However, I was not surprised when Fr. Deeke called the following Thursday during a Priests’ Personnel Board meeting and informed me that this good man, this good priest had left our world.

Anyone who knew Fr. Gore well knew that he was plain-spoken and direct in his conversation. While he was at times quite talkative with a great full-body laugh, he was in recent years a man of few words. He was not afraid to tell you what was on his mind. In expressing his ideas about the challenges priests, bishops and parishioners face in the Church today, he could be quite blunt. He once said, “We might all be a lot better off if everyone just did their work and kept their mouths shut.”

During one of my visits with him at the rectory after he began finding it increasingly difficult to get around, I found him in his favorite very large, very comfortable looking easy-chair in front of a giant television surrounded by paperback books and movies. I asked him what he was reading and what movies he liked to watch and he said, “Well, I used to read more serious books on the faith and watch spiritual tapes, but now I sometimes like to get away from it all in escapist novels and videos.” Then he said, “Bishop, I know you don’t ever feel like doing that.” I told him, “Bob, there are times when everyone feels like doing that.” Looking through his “escapist” paperbacks, I saw a small white notepad with these words written on it: Sickness, Suffering, Depression, Discouragement, Death, Hope, Joy. The words were connected by arrows and circles. I decided not to ask him about it. When I visited him again a week later the note was gone. I do not know whose writing it was. Nor do I know what it signified. But I felt certain that the words were significant for Father Gore, who had spoken to me about the lifelong sickness and suffering of his dear sister, Mary Frances, and his concern that she might die soon. He had also been preoccupied and discouraged by the fact that his doctor was having difficulty determining which medications might relieve his on-again, off-again depression. Clearly, his abiding faith in God and his closeness to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament gave him genuine hope and joy in the face of the impenetrable mystery of death.

Father Gore’s journey from God to God began and ended in a four-day period in the month of January. He was born on January 22. He died on January 20. He was commended to the Father in the Church’s Liturgy on January 23. This brings to mind the mythological character Janus, whose name is the origin of the word January. Janus, it was said, sat atop the gate to the city. From this perch he could look downhill to the past and uphill to the future. This gave him a unique vantage point from which to grasp the meaning of the lives of all who dwelled in the city. From our wintry January vantage point we can look back on Father Gore’s seventy-two years of life and look forward to ongoing impact of his forty-six years in the priesthood of Jesus Christ.

His ministry, which began at Holy Childhood Parish in Mascoutah, also included serving as Pastor of St. Charles Borromeo Parish in DuBois, St. Francis of Assisi in Aviston, and pastoral care for the sick and aged at the Meredith Home. In these and other positions of pastoral ministry, he brought the sacramental presence of Christ into the lives of thousands. His unassuming, matter-of-fact manner made it easy for him to enter the lives of those he served. His ministry endures beyond these days during which we mourn his death. Many years ago he celebrated the Nuptial Mass at which our Chancellor for Administration and Pastoral Services, David Spotanski and his wife, Sharon celebrated the Sacrament of Christian Marriage. The grace of that Sacrament sustains them now as they mourn the recent deaths of David’s grandmother, Frances and Sharon’s father, Paul.

Father Von Deeke, who faithfully cared for Father Gore with a brother’s love, selected the readings for the Funeral Liturgy. He chose these words from St. Paul’s Second Letter to the Christians living in Corinth, Greece: “There is no weakening on our part. Though this outer man of ours may be falling into decay, the inner man is renewed day by day. Yes, the troubles which are soon over, though they are weighty, train us for the carrying of a weight of eternal glory which is out of proportion to the troubles of today. And so we have no eyes for things that are visible, but only for things that are invisible; for the visible things last only for a time, and the invisible things last forever!” (2 Cor. 4, 16-18) Today, Father Gore calls us to our future reminding us that it is inevitable that our “outer man” man will fall into decay. Yet, by God’s grace, our “inner man” is renewed day by day, preparing us for the invisible things that last forever. Sickness, Suffering, Depression, Discouragement, Death, Hope, Joy!