For the Windy City, Fresh Air

By Richard N. Ostling

Joseph Bernardin takes over a huge, troubled archdiocese

He arrived at O'Hare Airport last week with a smile, a wave and a corny line: "I feel so welcome, I bought a one-way ticket." Welcome he was. The 2,374,000 member Archdiocese of Chicago celebrated as Joseph Louis Bernardin, 54, proceeded through the weeklong round of rites that marked his installation as archbishop. Already one of U.S. Roman Catholicism's handful of most important leaders, Bernardin (pronounced Burr-nuh-deen) is taking charge of the nation's largest archdiocese. In time he will be named a Cardinal, the first in the U.S. of Italian descent.

Bernardin's new domain is also one of the church's most demoralized. Long before the Second Vatican Council, the archdiocese led the nation in liturgical and pastoral innovations, social action and intellectual debate. But that spirit waned under the conservative leadership of John Cardinal Cody, who was archbishop from 1965 until his death last April. Cody was an old-style autocrat who alienated large groups of Catholics. He spent diocesan money, closed inner-city schools and reassigned priests with little or no consultation. In later years he became increasingly isolated from his clergymen, nuns and laity. His last months were darkened by accusations that he diverted up to $1 million in church moneys to aid his stepcousin, Helen Wilson. Cody denied any wrongdoing but regally refused to offer an explanation of how his funds had been used.

Bernardin displayed an exactly opposite personal style during his decade as Archbishop of Cincinnati. He took daily walks downtown and often chatted with people around Fountain Square. Motorists waiting at red lights were were often often surprised to see the cleric also waiting patiently for the green behind the wheel of his 1981 Oldsmobile. Bernardin not only shunned the services of a chauffeur but also sold off the archbishop's mansion and moved into a three-room rectory apartment. He also wrote a regular column on church and social issues for the diocesan weekly, then published letters disputing his views. A highly skilled administrator, Bernardin established a pastoral council to furnish him with ideas and advice. He set up $1 million in two funds to keep inner-city schools running and this year started a program to aid the unemployed. His annual financial reports included an accounting of his own $100,000 discretionary fund. Says the new archbishop: "The church is not a democracy, but the resources that the church has to carry on its mission are provided by the people, and they have a right to know how their money is being used." He is, in short, a model of the post-Vatican II bishop, open to debate but loyal to Vatican policy.

The archbishop has always sought to be a pastor as well as a bureaucrat. A few years ago, he began awakening at 6 a.m. instead of 7 a.m. in order to get in an extra hour of prayer. On one occasion a friend phoned him in the middle of the night seeking a priest who could hear the confession of an anguished wayward Catholic. Bernardin turned up, but was introduced as "Father" to spare the penitent any embarrassment.

Bernardin's record is that of a highly successful ecclesiastical politician. He be came the country's youngest bishop in 1966 and general secretary of the hierarchy's national staff two years later. By 1974 he had an international reputation as an elected representative to an elite group that supervises bishops' synods in Rome. Serving with him was Karol Cardinal Wojtyla, who later became Pope John Paul II.

Bernardin demonstrated his considerable tactical skills over the controversial Call to Action conference in 1976. He won the admiration of the liberal clergy by helping to organize the event. But when delegates attacked papal teachings regarding birth control, celibacy and women priests, Bernardin managed to preserve good relations with conservatives in the Vatican. He had warned them about the likelihood of dissent by the delegates, and steadfastly maintained his support of church policy.

The archbishop developed his knack for high-level church politics without ever studying in Rome and attended public as well as parochial schools as a boy in Columbia, S.C. His father, a stonecutter from northern Italy, died when Joseph was six, and his mother supported the family as a seamstress. In 1945 Bernardin left the University of South Carolina, then entered a seminary. He returned home in 1952 as a protege of liberal Bishop Paul Hallinan.

An appointment as chancellor of the Charleston diocese began his rapid rise through the ranks.

Asked about his goals in Chicago, Bernardin says simply, "I do not come here with a blueprint. I don't have a bagful of tricks. I've come to proclaim the Lord and his Gospel, to be a good pastor, to do everything I can to create a climate in which people can come together."

For Chicago's Catholics that is plenty. Observes Lay Activist John McDermott, "He's coming into the wake of a disaster, and there is so much good will and hope that he will succeed that he has a lot going for him." Mayor Jane Byrne immediately pronounced, "He is very definitely going to be a people's archbishop."

Says Father Philip Cleary, head of an independent priests' association that often sparred with Cody: "The Holy Father has made the wisest choice for Chicago. We are looking forward to an era of cooperation, collaboration and mutual respect."

The week's emotional high point was a candlelight prayer service in Holy Name Cathedral, where Bernardin told a congregation of priests, "I need your great talent, energy, collaboration, faith, loyalty, challenge and honest counsel." Then he spoke touchingly of his troubled predecessor. "I was four years old when the Cardinal became a priest. We are men of different generations and different experiences. I was saddened by the pain, suffering and conflict that seemed to cloud his final years. By any objective measure, Cardinal Cody did many good things for Chicago that make my work easier. If any hard feeling, bitterness or anger--toward the Cardinal or among yourselves--remain in your hearts, tonight is the night to cast off this burden." The congregation burst into applause and later a standing ovation that heralded a new beginning. --By Richard N. Ostling. Reported by J. Madeleine Nash/Chicago

With reporting by J. MADELEINE NASH

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