Father Robert Bullock was a friend of mine for 61 years. Starting as high school classmates in 1943, we stayed close until his death in 2004. For the gift of such a friendship I continue to feel grateful.
My vantage point gave me abundant chances to appreciate Bob’s fine personal qualities. From early on, I valued the traits of character that made him easy to be with and that produced good work and good works.
But, though I esteemed him from the beginning, I confess having underestimated his potential for both intellectual development and spiritual leadership. With time, I came to see that his talents in both these areas were outstanding.
It delights me to see how many other people recognize those characteristics, and love Bob for who he was and for all that he accomplished in his ministry as a university chaplain and parish priest.
They also continue to hold him in high esteem for his insight into one of the most crucial issues of our time. As Rabbi Irving Greenberg has said of Father Bullock: “He was our mentor and role model because he understood what is demanded of us when you face an event of such evil.”
As a prime mover in the agency Facing History and Ourselves, Bob helped create a vital bond between the Catholic Church and the Jewish community.
Over the last 30 years, the Brookline-based Facing History has become national and international in scope as it works to teach young people and others the awe-full lessons of the Holocaust. Two and a half years after his death, Father Bullock continues to be acclaimed for his part in promoting understanding of what the horror of those event means for everyone.
The occasion for this renewed focus on my friend is a recent commemoration of his life and work held at Boston College, his alma mater. Presented in the Burns Library, this celebration marked the first display of his archive. The collection includes his sermons, letters, photos, and other memorabilia that help document Bob’s career.
I take pleasure in seeing how the university where my friend did his undergraduate studies has recognized the value of his personal stature and his accomplishments. The collection housed in the library, now being prepared for eventual showing to the public, will preserve a record of his legacy for the indefinite future.
In the program prepared for this event, Father Bullock is quoted for the value he set on wisdom. “It (education) talks about trying to acquire wisdom─not just knowledge,” he said, “but the intelligent application of knowledge, to try to see below the surface of things, to try to achieve the moral balance.”
That quest for wisdom, for seeing below the surface and achieving moral balance, expresses one of my friend’s central themes. That is why he read so avidly and explored these themes in conversation with friends and those who specialized in the study of history.
From 1978 to 2004, Father Bullock was pastor of Our Lady of Sorrows parish in Sharon, Massachusetts. There he ministered to the Catholics of the town and reached out to the Jewish residents, becoming personally known and a friend to many of them.
His ties with the Jewish community enabled him to continue the work he had begun during his time as chaplain at Brandeis University. During the turbulent 1970s, he had served the Catholic community of Brandeis while developing a deeper understanding of the Catholic Church’s treatment of Jews and holding his own church to account.
During this same period, Bob was also director of campus ministry for the Archdiocese of Boston. In this capacity he helped many, including me, to carry out their ministry in the midst of continued turmoil in church and academia. He managed to stay cool in the storms that whirled about us in those troubled (but also dynamic) times.
Starting in the middle 1970s, he served Facing History as its prime Catholic figure, working to bring about deeper understanding of the church’s historical role and trying to reverse the lethal prejudices that had brought about such unspeakable harm to the Jewish community in Europe.
Many of us older people think, at least sometimes, about the legacy we will leave behind. My friend Bob’s life serves as a model of one that clearly made a difference and will endure.
Few of us, perhaps, will have made the same impact on our larger society as he did. But inevitably we too will have had our own distinctive impact.
We all have the capacity to make a difference. Figuring out the best ways can prove a fine agenda for one’s later years.
What may count most in the long run is our character. The capacity to be our best selves, being courageous and, most of all, compassionate toward others, makes us important, no matter how the world may ignore us.
My friend Bob was a person of character, and this explains best why so many people continue to honor him after his death.
Richard Griffin