Archbishop Pantin, known for his simplicity

Q: Archbishop J, why do you believe Archbishop Pantin is a saint? (Part 2)   

Last week, we reflected on some of the qualities of sanctity evident in Archbishop Gordon Anthony Pantin: heroic virtue, commitment to life—both the unborn and those condemned to be hanged—and a sense of God’s timing and providence. These are remarkable; they give a sense of his character and commitment to the Catholic ideal. Yet, there is much more to explore in the Servant of God Anthony Pantin. Let us continue our reflection on this extraordinary man of God.

Suffering

Most people did not know that Archbishop Pantin suffered greatly for most of his time in office.

Trinidad and Tobago became independent in 1962. Just as the new nation was finding its way, Vatican II changed the religious landscape of the Roman Catholic Church. These momentous shifts in Church and State opened an era of great expectation and uncertainty. In this turmoil, Anthony Pantin became the ninth Archbishop of Port of Spain (1968).

This was a tumultuous time when everything was being questioned. English replaced Latin in the Mass, Folk music became popular, the guitar became an instrument of choice, and the steelpan began finding its way into our churches.

The priest no longer had his back to the people during the Eucharistic Prayer and many old traditions were changed in a most dramatic way.

At that time, the Dominicans still had possession of most of the wealthy parishes, and local priests were a minority. In addition, the 1970 Black Power Revolution created great upheaval in the nation and society.

Under the leadership of a saintly superior, the Dominicans left the Cathedral, giving way to local men. There was much anxiety in the Church and society.

Amid this turbulence, the Archbishop, at a clergy meeting in 1972, became a scapegoat for all that was going wrong and all the anxieties priests felt.

In an interview, the Archbishop recounted what he experienced that day. The hurt was extreme and longlasting. He was a young man and a young Archbishop in a tumultuous Church and nation. He was expected to carry the anxiety and emotions of his clergy. It was a heavy burden to bear.

As a result of this high stress of the meeting and its outcome, the Archbishop developed colitis (a chronic digestive disease characterised by inflammation of the inner lining of the colon). This left him with constant bouts of stomach troubles, including, at times, involuntary diarrhoea, which was both challenging and embarrassing. He told me his doctor, Professor Courtney Bartholomew, told him if he continued to worry as he did, he would soon be the late archbishop.

He found a way, consciously, to turn off the worry. But he kept the pain, the discomfort and the embarrassment as part of his ongoing offering.

The weight of office marked him in his body, but he always had a kind word, a compassionate response, a joke to tell and an immense sense of humour. Most people did not know of the inner pain he carried in his body and his heart. They saw a jovial, big-hearted man who was all things to all people.

Sanctity like Pope Francis

One of the most striking features of the Archbishop was his simplicity, availability and his great sense of humour. He drove a Volkswagen Beetle all over Trinidad and Tobago, picking up passengers along the way. He had the common touch and was at home with those living on the street, as he was with those in high office.

Wherever he went, he was very much himself. He wore a much-mended white cassock, which, like his car, he refused to get rid of. He was relentless in his simplicity.

When Our Lady of Fatima parish became vacant, he appointed himself parish priest. He would sleep in the parish, celebrate Mass in the morning, drive to Archbishop’s House during the day and return to the parish in the afternoon. He was loved by all. When one well-to-do woman told him: “You are a prince of the Church; you cannot live like that,” he laughed it off and continued humbly.

Each year, the Archbishop promoted the Archbishop’s Appeal in the newspaper to raise money for the poor. Through this charity, the late Archbishop funded many: families, prisoners, people living on the street, and the poor who needed a helping hand. Streams of people made their way to Archbishop’s House for financial assistance. For everyone, he had a kind word and a joke to share. This, too, was his piety.

Holy Faith Convent Penal Students with Archbishop Pantin 1989-11-04

Once, a street person came early to Archbishop’s Chapel, just when he opened the doors for Mass. The man intended to hold up the Archbishop with a knife. In characteristic style, he called the man by name and told him: “Stop playing the fool with that before someone gets hurt.”

The man put down the knife, and the Archbishop gave him hot tea and a sandwich. As he so often said, “It is all God’s work.”

A sense of humour

Someone who read my column last week wrote in to say: “In my opinion, there was one very important omission in his list of virtues: namely his sense of humour, a talent not practised by many prelates, but one which brought many a Trini close to the Church. His sense of humour was the defining characteristic that allowed him to communicate and teach on controversial issues to the man in the street. I remember once I boasted to him that I prayed for him every day in Latin, and he quickly retorted, ‘English would do.’ I had to laugh at myself.”

That was the measure of the man and his great sense of humour.

Key Message:

Sanctity comes in different flavours and types. Archbishop Pantin’s sanctity reflects that of a New World religious leader who is devoted to his God and loves the poor.     

Action Step:

Ask this Servant of God for favours, miracles and intercessions. If you receive a special favour or miracle, please let us know. You can email beatification@catholictt.org

Scripture Reading:

Mt 25:35-40

RELATED ARTICLE: ARCHBISHOP PANTIN, A SAINT (PART 1)