What does it mean to live as a follower of Jesus in the struggle for justice in today’s world? “No Guilty Bystander” tells the inspirational story of one bishop who has lived such a life in a world deeply in need of healing.
Authors Frank Fromherz and Sr. Suzanne Sattler have done a deep dive into the rich and often stormy career of a bishop who took on many issues, including racism, poverty, war, clerical sex abuse, gender issues, and nuclear weapons. Through his story we see it is possible for a clergyperson to be a follower of the Gospel teachings within a church structure that is itself flawed and in need of healing.
In my own time leading a social justice ministry in the United Methodist Church years ago, I regularly read “The Peace Pulpit,” Bishop Gumbleton’s weekly homily in the National Catholic Reporter. His homilies were unlike any I had heard from other priests. A bold example was his Christmas 2004 reflection on horrific violence in Iraq. Gumbleton said, “War will not ever bring peace. That’s clearly part of the message communicated to us through Jesus, who is the full revelation of God. The only way you can bring peace is by transforming the world through love and goodness, spreading the message of Jesus, spreading the love of Jesus. That’s the only way.”
Bishop Gumbleton initially found himself immersed in the issue of the Vietnam war. For him this was a time of great inner transformation. Many factors came together, including the writings of Thomas Merton, the pacifism of Dorothy Day, and the statements of young draftees “who faced their own personal and existential questions of conscience.” The sacrifice offered by Franz Jägerstätter, the Austrian conscientious objector who was executed by the Nazis in World War II and later beatified by the Catholic Church, also had a major impact on his objection to the war and his support of COs. Gumbleton admitted that it was no easy journey: “I was struggling to determine what my response to the war should be. ”
Gumbleton’s trip to Vietnam in 1973, in which he witnessed atrocities committed on behalf of his own government, was one of many trips he would make to witness and “provide effective solidarity” to endangered people in other countries, including Colombia, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Haiti, Iraq, and Afghanistan. As Gumbleton once said, “You can’t know the situation of the poor and their suffering from the violence… unless you see some of it firsthand, experience it, and come to understand their life from their perspective.”
It is no small irony that this humble follower of the nonviolent ways of Jesus was once “characterized as ‘the most radical member of the U.S. Catholic Bishops Conference… who is into very questionable stuff.’” This was in the context of El Salvador, where Gumbleton was considered a subversive by both the U.S. and Salvadoran governments.
We also learn of Gumbleton’s ministry to, and advocacy on behalf of, victims of clerical sex abuse in the Catholic Church. As with every other issue, it began with him compassionately listening to what victims had endured. In this case he provided testimony to the Ohio state legislature, leading to a political firestorm. Bishop Gumbleton was removed in 2007 from both his roles as bishop and as pastor of St. Leo’s in Detroit.
The authors adapted the title from Thomas Merton’s 1966 Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, in which Merton wrestled with his contemplative life in contrast to the immense suffering in the world outside of his retreat. Yet his writings reached far and wide and informed so many people, including Gumbleton.
After reading “No Guilty Bystander” I realized that there was much about this servant of God that I had not known. To quote Gumbleton, he has inspired my commitment that it is “not enough… to be privately, individually moral, in the face of evil embedded in the very structure of the social system… The believing person says, I will try to speak God’s name into this madness and stop it.” Thanks to Frank Fromherz and Sr. Suzanne Sattler for this rich and comprehensive telling of the life’s work of a humble and, if I may be so bold, radical priest.