Bishop Greg O’Kelly SJ, 1 June 2023
Picture a uniquely Australian scene. A pub, in a town of no more than 50 residents, in the middle of the desert. Alcohol is forbidden outside this building, so it has become a focal point for the community. People are coming in, more and more of them. There are those with fractured lives and broken relationships, a failed millionaire, the village atheist and a curious dog. Some would call them society’s rejects. It is Mintabie, in the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunyjatjara lands, far northern South Australia. They are here for Mass.
Bishop Greg O’Kelly SJ reflects fondly on his regular visits to Mintabie with Coober Pedy’s parish priest. To him, celebrating Mass at the pub table with the residents “gave them a sense that they were worthwhile.” It was an act of affirmation and touched something deep inside. His preaching aimed to show the strength of Jesus’ everlasting love. “Love one another as I have loved you.” John 15:12. For Bishop Greg, it was about communicating the idea of love that is steadfast, forgiving and costly – it doesn’t go away.
Mintabie as a town, unfortunately, no longer exists, but it is a great example of the value of Bishop Greg’s ministry. That direction began in a school run by Jesuits, where he was impressed by the men’s cheerfulness and “love for what they were doing.” It was only after joining the religious order, and ordination 14 years later, that he began to see the power of the sacraments in people’s lives. Weddings, baptisms and funerals, in particular, were important moments for people to reach out, and to experience “a sense of closeness, reverence and silence.”
Before he became a Bishop, Greg’s main ministry was in schools. Yet as he was finishing his term as headmaster in South Australia, he was shocked by a call from the Nuncio. After a lot of prayer and consultation with the Jesuits, he was ordained in 2006 an auxiliary Bishop for the Archdiocese of Adelaide. Then, in 2009, he was appointed Bishop of the Diocese of Port Pirie, the second diocese of South Australia and part of the Northern Territory. It is almost a million square kilometres in size, and getting around involves a lot of travelling. Bishop Greg considers the whole diocese to be “on the margins”, and it attracts few clergy or religious. However, over his 11 years there, he “really enjoyed it and loved the people.”
Another example of liturgical life was at Beltana, a cattle station half the size of Belgium, near the NT border. It was “so isolated…in the sticks”, yet with the family and a couple of station workers, they became a community. What Bishop Greg hoped to convey was that “no matter how far away you are, or small you are as a group, you are worthwhile in the eyes of God and the Church… Celebrating the sacrament of Jesus can be a precious moment for you.” In such places, there are no opportunities to get away from each other or visit a counsellor, so they had to learn to endure and love each other through it all. Bishop Greg smiles as he remembers Mass at a table on the back verandah of the house, looking out over the vast landscape, with their pet kangaroo who “paid no attention to my homily!”
His third story is of celebrating the Washing of the Feet every Holy Thursday in the Port Augusta Prison. The men in his congregation had so many experiences of hurt, rejection, isolation and loneliness. And at such an important moment, there was never a lack of volunteer ‘disciples’. As Bishop Greg washed and kissed their feet while they sat on a table, there would always be some tears. “It moved them in a way, something erupted within them of whatever indignity, whatever hurt in their lives.” And then they all shared the sign of peace together. It was very powerful for everyone, himself included.
Now, as Bishop Emeritus, Greg considers for us the role of the diaconate as a permanent vocation. He begins with a broad view, “the Catholic Church is a sacramental church that invests heavily in sign and symbol.” Within that structure, the person of the Deacon is very important – he symbolises and represents the wider Church. He only has meaning in connection with the larger community. The spirituality and apostolate of the Deacon is formed by the “three tables”: the ministry of the table, the word and those in poverty.
In his time in the Diocese of Port Pirie, Bishop Greg had two Permanent Deacons. “Their ministry was wonderful,” he enthuses. People very much appreciated their celebration of baptisms, a few weddings, funerals without Eucharist and adoration. Deacons show that the Church cares, and that pastoral care is central. From what he has seen, it is a “rich and rewarding” ministry.
Bishop Greg is conscious of those who are missing out on ministry, in particular the people and families in aged care; Aboriginal communities; and youth. He sees the potential for ministry that represents the wider Church. And he continues, “I would support the diaconate of women. It doesn’t lead automatically to the ministry of consecration and absolution, but there is so much that Deacons can do.”
Thank you, Bishop Greg, for your inspiring ministry, leadership, courage and support.
Liturgy on the Margins 