Brother Father Heagle

My brother, Father John, is one of my heroes. He always has been, always will be. He, like his dad, is a man of strong convictions, not afraid to stand for what he knows is right and just and to work towards that goal in his ministry.
On the sandy 120 acres we called home, I recognized him as something very special. I cannot recall his ever getting into disciplinary trouble with our parents, although I am sure that he would beg to differ.

He maintained really good grades all through grade school and when he heard the call, he went to Holy Cross Seminary in LaCrosse, where he continued to be exemplary.

I recall that he organized a group of his fellow seminarians to gather every Sunday morning after Mass and breakfast to give "practice" sermons. He did so because he had heard way too many ill-prepared sermons as an altar boy. If you have ever heard him speak, you will know that it paid off in huge dividends.

I have had the privilege of hearing him speak many times and he always reaches my core, grips my heart, and brings me near tears with his imagery and well thought out premises. Because of his farm upbringing, he draws much from the honest, earthy, hard working days of his youth.

I can remember what a pleasure it was just to be working along side him shocking grain in the sweltering Wisconsin summer or riding our bikes all the way down to the Red Cedar when we had a moment of free time to cool down or go fishing.

I can also remember clearly the day that he came to my rescue as I was taking a pounding in the public park near St. Joe's, doing so without getting angry himself, but letting my antagonist know in no uncertain terms that I was his brother and that he had best leave me alone.

And then when John was a Junior in high school at the seminary, the good Sisters of St. Francis convinced me that I, too, had that special calling from God and I went to join my brother's ranks as a Freshman. I did not fare well with the strong discipline, the home sickness, and the loss of friends.

In truth, not even John could help his squirrely little brother that year. When people ask what the basic difference is between John and me, I tell them that while I was at the seminary that year -- and believe me, one year was enough -- the Junior class drama production was Joan of Arc and John played Joan.

the Freshman class drama production was The Devil and Daniel Webster. I didn't play Daniel Webster.

I have watched John move through the years with a grace and determination that few have. Both John and my mother, Alice, jointly received The Peace and Justice Award from the diocese of LaCrosse.

With the onset of what I call false conservatism over the past few years, both in church and politics, John has been assailed from all sides. Even though he is on "Our Lady's Warriors' " hit list, still he remains strong in his convictions.

Don't think that hate mail and protesters at retreats do not hurt. John is after all, a man, a human being. But he is still out there, preaching the TRUTH eloquently and you need only to talk to one of his former parishoners at St. Patrick's Church in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, to know how many souls he has deeply touched.

He is three years older than I am and maintains a schedule of talks that take him, many by air, to the corners of the earth. I don't know how he does it. I certainly couldn't.

But wait. I do know how he does it. With grace, determination, and with the help of the divine truth.