On the death of Father Gerald O'Collins SJ

27 August 2024

I first met Gerald O'Collins in 1971 when I was a seminarian at Corpus Christi College Glen Waverley, then in my first year of theology, and he was a young and rather glamorous theology teacher who seemed to know everything and everyone. At the time he taught half the year in Boston and the other half in Melbourne, which added to the sense of glamour and excitement.

Father O'Collins taught one of the three most influential courses in my seminary education, Fundamental Theology, or as Gerry called it, Theology of Revelation. He opened up to us the great vision of Vatican II's doctrine of revelation. He taught us that Jesus was revelation; and that was to me… well, a revelation. Gerry made theology seem not only relevant but exciting; and he also gave us a sense of the universal Church, which was itself exciting and even liberating.

Gerry was a great encourager. It was he who suggested that I submit a paper I had written for him for publication in Compass. This seemed too much to ask, but I followed his advice. The paper was published, and so began my modest career as a publisher. Over the years, Gerry not only taught his students, he befriended them, and so many of those he taught and mentored became his lifelong friends. Beyond the academic environment, his gift for friendship was one of the reasons he was such a remarkable networker. It was why Rome, still one of the great global hubs, suited him so well.

When I went to Rome to study at the Biblicum in 1980, I met Gerry again. He had already been teaching for several years at the Gregorian University, which was across the piazza from the Biblical Institute. I met him often enough in the piazza or at various celebrations, and he was an inexhaustible source of encouragement in those early years when adjusting to Roman life was not always easy.

At the Gregorian, Gerry was known for several things, apart from his teaching of theology and the flow of his publications. He was known for his famous Australian accent when speaking Italian. He mastered the language as well as anyone; only his tone was pure Chips Rafferty. But more importantly, he was known as a teacher who genuinely cared about his students, something unusual in Roman universities at the time. This was another aspect of Gerry's gift of friendship.

Later in life, when I was asked to work in the Secretariat of State of the Holy See, my paths crossed again with Gerry's. He was still a man of the Church, but his relations with the Holy See had become more complicated, especially after the sanctioning of Father Jacques Dupuis SJ, with whom Gerry was close. It was always a mystery to me why Gerry was never appointed to the International Theological Commission, where he could have made such a great contribution.

In those years I met him mainly at the table of Desmond O'Grady, the Australian writer and journalist who had lived in Rome for a long time. Des was a friend to both of us, very interested in the Church, but also a man of the wider world. The same was true of Gerry, who was always a man of the Church, but never an ecclesiastical apparatchik. He was interested in theology, but not ideology. As the son of Saint Ignatius, he believed in dialogue with culture and felt at home in any society.

Gerry's tireless writing and teaching arose from a lifelong encounter with the crucified and risen Jesus Christ. He seemed haunted not only by the question of Jesus but also by the presence of Jesus. He also seemed to be someone who needed a manuscript to give shape and direction to his life both intellectually and spiritually. He had the training of a systematic theologian but the instincts of a New Testament scholar; and he also had a journalist's ability to write in an accessible and engaging way. It was an unusual and powerful combination that gave Gerry a voice that will be heard beyond his death.

Above all, Gerald O'Collins was a Jesuit priest who understood what it meant to give his life “for the greater glory of God.” Pope Paul VI said that people today “are more willing to listen to witnesses than to teachers, and if they listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses” (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 41). As we bid farewell to Father Gerald O'Collins, SJ, we give thanks for someone to whom people listened because he was both teacher and witness, priest and friend. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.