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Philip’s Love
Today, we are dedicating this Mass in memory of Philip Berrigan, Fr. Dan’s brother─a brother to all of us who work for peace and justice. I was in the presence of Philip Berrigan only three times. But these encounters, and his life’s work and writings, had a profound effect on me. For some time, I felt compelled to make a pilgrimage to Philip’s place of repose, not unlike the seeker who climbs a mountain to engage the resident guru to find the answer to the proverbial question: “What is the meaning of life?” Thus, on December 9th of last year, four days after the one-year anniversary of his death, I journeyed to a poor section of Northern Baltimore to an old Catholic cemetery where Philip is buried, nestled a few yards from Jonah House, founded by Philip and his beloved wife, Liz McAlister. The day was cold and sunless. The graveyard was blanketed in snow. There, amidst the bleached, eroded grave markers, was Philip’s Celtic gravestone, dark, solid, powerfully contrasting its surroundings, arched by two ten-foot wooden torches. As I approached Philip’s grave, crows suddenly darted from the leafless trees and circled about, cawing in frenzied protest, and just as suddenly, returning to the trees as if sensing that no malice was being visited upon Philip. A large colorful medallion painted by Fr. William Hart McNichols was affixed at the center of Philip’s stone and simply inscribed: “Philip Francis Berrigan/1923-2002.” Roses lay about that had miraculously retained their vibrant color those four days after a gathering of family and friends for the one- year anniversary of his death, presided over by Fr. Dan Berrigan. One just stands there and absorbs the whole gravitas of it all. But the pilgrimage did not end right there. As an afterthought, I walked to the rear of Philip’s grave marker, and there it was, literally carved in stone, the one true thing that Philip knew, these three words: “Love One Another.” Seventy-eight years of a life in full, thousands of hours studying the Bible with the zeal of a fundamentalist, New Testament and Old Testament, where love is not so easy to find, Philip left us with this message: “Love One Another.” So basic is this mantra of hope: breathe in . . . love one another . . . breathe out. Yet, how sad that this love is so terribly absent in our world. Philip knew he stood upon, as Thomas Merton wonderfully put it, “God’s hidden ground of love.” It was not enough for Philip to know that we should love. His was an active love, relentlessly pursued against anything that would negate love─racial discrimination, exploitation of the poor, helpless, selfish consumerism, the rape of our environment, violence in society, wars of aggression, and Philip’s personal passion, the moral evil that are nuclear weapons. This fidelity to active love would result in eleven years of his life spent in jail, which many thought a futile gesture. But once Philip knew this one true thing, that we should love one another, there was no other way. Dorothy Day once said that in the end, active love would be the measure by which we would all be judged. Philip Berrigan would not be found wanting. That day at Philip’s endplace, endtime, his own small piece of God’s hidden ground of love, I left a part of my past, and took away grace, the knowledge that Philip has always loved each and everyone one of us. Fr. John McNamee said of Philip in his Sunday homily a few days after his death, that they don’t make them like him anymore. We hope not. Rest in Peace, Philip. We Love You! Since Philip’s death four years ago this December, I have heard people comment that maybe it was a mercy that he was not around to witness the current sad state of world affairs, as if today’s ills are any worse than when he was alive. Alas, we know this is not so. If Philip were still alive, he would continue the good fight, and say that we must pray for, and resist, those in power who perpetuate today’s violence and injustice─and, also, love them. John Wanenchak |