Of Father Robert Bullock it is told that many Jewish residents of Sharon, Massachusetts called him Rabbi. This was a sign of deep respect for this Catholic pastor of many years in that town.

It also serves as one indication of the pioneering work that Father Bullock had done to bring Catholic and Jewish communities closer together in mutual understanding and love. His time as Catholic chaplain at Brandeis University, his 26 years of service in Sharon where many residents are Jewish, and his involvement with Facing History, the organization dedicated to educating students and others about the Holocaust, all qualify as features of that work.

Perhaps Father Bullock’s work in this area was ironically prefigured back in 1936 when he was a 7-year-old altar boy at Sacred Heart Church in Newton Center. That is when Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli, the future Pope Pius XII, came to visit that Newton parish and, while there, reached out his hand to Bob and gave him a blessing. Who could have predicted that the young boy and the future pope would have such contrasting histories with regard to the Jewish community?

Another large area in which Father Bullock distinguished himself was leadership in the profoundly troubled Archdiocese of Boston. He was one of the first priests to speak out about the clericalism that infected ecclesiastical life in Boston and elsewhere. When the media looked for analysis of what ailed the Catholic Church, they found in Father Bullock a trustworthy spokesman.

What made him so reliable was the selflessness with which he analyzed issues. Paradoxically, perhaps, this quality freed him to include himself among the blameworthy for not having spoken out earlier about his fellow priests who were guilty of sexual abuse. At the same time, he rejected the way that the official church sometimes acted against priests without due regard for their rights.

Perhaps another secret of Robert Bullock’s inner freedom came from his rejection of ambition. I love the old story, recounted by veteran television news broadcaster David Boeri, of Father Bullock’s meeting the famous community organizer Saul Alinsky on an airplane ride.

Alinsky reportedly asked him which he wanted to be, a priest or a bishop. When the young priest asked Alinsky what he meant, the organizer answered “You need to decide now because it makes all the difference what path you take.”

Still, some of us would have liked to see our friend Bob have a position of greater leadership in the church, even if he had to become a bishop to achieve it. We think that it might have made for a much better church than what we have had.

My friendship with Bob began 61 years ago this September. Schoolboys together, we entered the ninth grade at St. Sebastian’s Country Day School, as it was then called. Located in Newton on Nonantum Hill, this school was weaker than it should have been academically in the first years of its existence, but it forged friendships that have lasted till death.

As a young man, Bob showed many of the qualities that would make him outstanding as a priest and a thoroughly devoted pastor. I remember him as committed to his studies, active in sports (notably on the same baseball team with me) and full of grace and humor in his social relations with friends of both genders. Though he was responsive to religion in high school, his vocation to the priesthood did not take full shape until he completed his education at Boston College.

His education, however, was to continue throughout his lifetime. He remained a learner always, keeping up with the latest biblical and theological scholarship and taking an active interest in the thinking of leading intellectuals in secular fields.

What I especially admired was the way my friend grew all through the years of his ministry. The many trials he faced seemed to make him stronger, someone whom others would wish to consult on personal issues. His courage in speaking out against authority, leading to the resignation of the cardinal archbishop, marked Bob as a leader ready to take criticism for his actions. Bob showed some of the advantages brought by a lengthy life.

When you live long enough, you experience the death of many friends, as I am discovering. Bob’s loss is one that hits me with special force. He was easy to like, admire, love. I thought he would be with us for much longer because of his apparently strong body and vibrant spirit.

But, once again, growing in years has brought me and others personal loss. The mystery of suffering, physical decline, and death surprises us once again. No more than anyone else do I have an answer to this mystery, no answer other than which my faith community has handed down to me.

Bob received much from that faith community and gave much back. I like to think that his life, though now lost to earthly appearance, will continue transformed.

Richard Griffin