A father's message
By JUDY LABENSOHN
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1999
When Father Robert Fortin uses the word resurrection, he's not always
talking about Jesus.
"The plan to incorporate St. Peter in Gallicantu as part of a national
park, together with the Old City and Silwan, first came up in 1969. It was
dormant for many years. Now, all of a sudden they resurrected the idea,"
bemoans the Catholic priest.
Fortin, the Superior of the Religious Community and Rector of the
Gallicantu shrine is not happy about this particular resurrection, because
it means more bureaucratic hassles for the church shrine on Mount Zion in
Jerusalem, which wants to expand its facilities to accommodate the 250,000
ore more pilgrims that are expected for the millennium year.
"Not only do we have to deal with the municipality, but now we have to get
permission from the National Parks Authority as well for any improvements we
make at our site," Fortin says.
When 800 pilgrims - that's how many come on a large cruise ship - visit
Jerusalem for one day, they need a place to take part in the Mass. Fontin
wants to build an open-air chapel on the grounds of the Church.
"It is December 15 and I still have not received permission," he moans. "We
also need office space to coordinate visits. We need an information center.
People need a place to pray," he avers.
This is not Father Fortin's only source of frustration as the new
millennium is here. He was equally disturbed by the Chief Rabbinate's ruling
limiting the display of Christmas trees in hotels and restaurants to
settings behind closed doors.
"What are they so afraid of?" he wonders. "Do they really believe a
Christmas tree can threaten the Jewish character of the state?"
AS a member of the Order of the Assumption, Father Robert is used to
religious constraints. It was the anti-clerical laws in France after the
French Revolution which motivated Imanuel D'Alzon to found the order in 1850
in Nimes. The founders wanted to help the people return to their roots, to
reinforce their faith. One of the ways they did this was by organizing
pilgrimages.
"In 1882, the Assumptionists organized 1,013 lay people for a pilgrimage to
the Holy Land - the first big pilgrimage from France since the Middle Ages,"
he observes.
Fontin speaks of the Middle Ages the way Jews mention 70 CE or 1948.
"Every year after that they brought pilgrims. They bought two steamships to
transport them from Marseilles to Haifa. It was a big feat to bring pilgrims
in those days. They traveled by camel and donkey."
Then, pointing his left hand towards the northwest, he adds, "We built
Notre Dame because there were no hotels around." The land for Notre Dame and
St. Peter's was purchased in 1887 by Amedee de Piellat, a French count.
According to a Franciscan tradition, the area is the site of the grotto
where Peter wept after denying that he knew Jesus just after Jesus was
arrested by the Romans. [Mark 14:66-72].
The Assumptionist priests who did not stay in France to organize
pilgrimages went to Australia and North America. There, they set up
educational institutions. It was in several of these schools in Worcester,
Massachusetts, his home town, that Fortin enjoyed a bilingual Catholic
education.
"I learned Latin and Greek in French," he explains. Indeed, his Boston
accent sounds like it was dipped in a delicate French sauce.
Fortin was ordained in 1958 and later earned an MA in English literature
from Catholic University in Washington.
Today, he oversees a permanent community of five priests and three sisters,
as well as a temporary group of 14 students who came for the year to study
at Ecce Homo in the Old City.
Fortin arrived in Jerusalem in 1990 after a three-year stint in Moscow as a
chaplain at the American Embassy and assignments in Paris and Boston. Though
living in Jerusalem has strengthened his faith - "It is as strong as the
rock of Mount Zion" - it has not been easy.
During his first year here, he had to contend with the Gulf War. The winter
after, torrential rains destroyed the terrace walls around the church,
ripping out 250 Jerusalem pine and cypress trees.
"Everything came tumbling down," he recalls with animated horror, speaking
as much with his soft, delicate hands as with words. "We had no water, no
heat, and no telephone. It was like living in the Middle Ages. We had to
restore the entire place."
Restoration seems to be Fortin's forte. He brings to his position a strong
sense of inclusiveness. He serves as secretary-general for the Bishops'
Conference for the Jubilee Year - an organization which includes 12 branches
of the Catholic Church, including Melkites, Armenian Catholics, Maronites,
Syrian Catholics, and Chaldeans -- hailing from Amman, Nazareth, Acre,
Jerusalem and Bethlehem. In that capacity, Father Fortin succeeded in
negotiating a common calendar for both Eastern and Western branches of the
church for the jubilee year.
He compares it to organizing a pilgrimage in 1882 -- "no mean feat."
In addition, for the first time in history, all the branches of the
Catholic Church in the area participated in an "inter-ritual" mass on
December 24 and 25 in Bethlehem. Within the framework of the Latin Mass,
with each branch conducting part of the Mass in its own, distinct ritual
format. (This would be comparable to Orthodox, Conservative and Reform Jews
praying together at the Wall on Rosh Hashana.)
The penchant for inclusiveness may stem from Fontin's firm identification
with Peter.
"He was a man who was very sure of himself," he says. "He was scared the
Romans would persecute him too, so he denied knowing Jesus. Later, he wept
and there was a reconciliation.
"Peter was made head of the church. He knew his own human frailties and
what it meant to repent and go forward. He was a very human fellow with
qualities and frailties we all have. He went on to great things. The message
is - you don't stay with your shortcomings. You pick yourself up and go
forward."
It is this message of repentance and reconciliation that Father Robert
Fontin would like to preach to the millennium pilgrims, if the local
authorities will only let him move forward.
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