By Michael Patrick O’Brien–
One of the advantages of getting old is you get to see how things turn out. So it is with the two Catholic priests I met when they were young (and I was even younger), I knew throughout our adulthoods, and I still know now when all three of us comb gray hair.
In the mid-1970s, I was a preteen/teen parishioner at St. Joseph’s Church in my hometown Ogden, Utah. Unlike today, we were fortunate to have several priests on staff there, including two brand new ones—Father Francis Mannion and Father Joseph Mayo. I was an altar boy for both, and Father Mayo taught us religion at the nearby St. Joseph’s grade school.
These fond memories rushed back to me recently when I stumbled on a November 1973 Salt Lake Tribune newspaper article announcing the arrival of both priests in the diocese. I was only 12, and Fathers Mannion and Mayo were in their mid or late 20s. They look charmingly young in the photo that accompanied the news story (and this blog).
The article reported how Father Mannion, from Galway, Ireland, had just graduated from St. Patrick’s College in Thurles and decided to serve in America. He followed a long and venerable tradition (see The dwindling number of Irish priests…end of an era?). He told the news reporter he looked forward to the great challenge of being a priest in the modern world, especially at a time of great divisions in the Church.
Father Mayo was ordained the day before the news article was published, and celebrated his first Mass the day after. A native of Utah and a graduate of local Judge Memorial Catholic High School, his family has a long history of devotion and service to the Church (see No saints work here). He told The Salt Lake Tribune that he too looked forward to the challenges of the modern priesthood and explained, “People need to realize we are preserving traditions but interpreting them in different ways now.”
As an Irish-American boy in Utah, with little contact to or knowledge of the “auld sod” of Ireland, I was delighted to hear Father Mannion’s Irish brogue when I served Mass for him at St. Joseph’s in Ogden. And Father Mayo was a kind and excellent teacher. He also provided many delightful moments, perhaps unintentionally, when he was assigned to teach sex education to us 8th grade Catholic schoolboys.
Fathers Mayo and Mannion grew to be close friends in Ogden, and their bond has survived over many years and during many different clerical assignments since then.
Father Mannion earned a doctorate in liturgy and sacramental theology, directed a theology institute in Chicago, served as rector of Salt Lake City’s lovely and historic Cathedral of the Madeleine, and spearheaded an extensive renovation and preservation of the lovely landmark site.
He also was a parish pastor and we served on a school board together, where I appreciated his quiet wisdom and his dry wit. He once warned us, in a solemn voice, that he might miss a future meeting if the time conflicted with television broadcasts of either wrestling or Desperate Housewives. And he gave me wide latitude designing and producing innovative school Christmas programs, one time including rap music.
Father Mayo served many local parishes, and performed hundreds of baptisms, weddings and funerals for the Catholic community. He served as rector of the local cathedral too, succeeding Father Mannion, overseeing the historic building’s centennial celebration in 2009, and growing its renowned choir school.
He also was pastor for my family and me for a time at another parish, where my children were altar servers for him. When I saw him there, on the street, or at diocese events, he always greeted me warmly, and we reminisced about our common days in Ogden. Endearingly, he always has called me “Michael,” about the only time I hear that full name of mine and I am not in trouble.
For their many decades of hard work and accomplishments, the Vatican honored Father Mannion and Father Mayo with the title of monsignor, a recognition of long and outstanding priestly service. Both priests, still friends and now in their 70s, retired from active ministry a few years ago. The local newspapers marked those occasions too, just as they noted the beginning of their careers almost fifty years ago.
But priests never really retire, do they? Monsignor Mannion continues to serve at a local parish and writes regular columns for The Intermountain Catholic and Our Sunday Visitor. In the 1973 news article announcing his arrival in Utah, he had worried about the challenges of being a priest in the modern world. He met them in so many ways, including—in his own words—by restoring a “cathedral for all people… not just an historic monument but a living building which ministers in a variety of ways to the needs of the community.”
In retirement, Monsignor Mayo has helped care for his elderly parents, who were married for over seventy years. He advises Utah Bishop Oscar Solis, serves on a number of diocesan commissions, and fills in at Sunday mass for priests all over the Salt Lake Valley. He is so respected within the community that prominent non-Catholics have contributed substantial funds to an endowment for the cathedral set up in his name. When first ordained, Father Mayo also had worried how to interpret a traditional church to a modern world. He did just fine too.
Thankfully, these retired priests I met at the alpha of their vocations five decades ago still have time for me today, as they enter the omega of their lives of service.
Monsignor Mannion was kind enough to read a draft of my soon-to-be released Monastery Mornings book and offer publishing advice. Monsignor Mayo patiently answers my calls and emails when I am writing blog articles and I need to double check my fading memories about the good old days in Ogden. And yes, he still calls me “Michael.”
I do not live with regret, but I may have at least one. For a variety of reasons, perhaps including recent scandals, there is a dire shortage of priests today. I am sad that my children will not enjoy the same pleasure and privilege I had of starting friendships with new young priests, and savoring the fruits of those fine relationships for many decades thereafter.
*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. His book about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah will be published in the Spring of 2021.
