Daniel Dempski O.S.B.

The Rev. Daniel Gerald Dempski, O.S.B., 55, died unexpectedly May 19, 2007, hours after participating in the college's 114th annual commencement exercises.

He had been a monk, a priest and an educator at Saint Anselm for the past 30 years. During that time, Father Daniel served as a residence director, a lecturer and a seminar leader in the humanities program, an instructor in computer science and later in English, and director of the Office of Campus Ministry. He was also involved in many student activities.

Father Daniel had also served for several years at Woodside Priory School in Portola Valley, CA, where he taught and served as administrator.

Born Gerald B. Dempski on November 14, 1951, in Haverhill, MA, he was a son of A. Lillian (Horgan) and Andrew H. Dempski. A member of St. James Church, Haverhill, he was educated in parish schools and graduated from the former St. James High School in 1969, then enrolled at Saint Anselm College.

Following undergraduate studies, he entered the monastery at Saint Anselm in 1973. He pronounced his simple vows on June 29, 1974, and made his solemn vows, or lifetime commitment on July 11, 1978. After his seminary studies, he was ordained a deacon on October 2, 1978. He was ordained a Roman Catholic priest on May 26, 1979.

The family included two sisters, Helen Ober of Indiatlantic, FL, and Alice Hawksworth of Amesbury, MA; a brother, Andrew "Bud" Dempski of Fremont; many nephews and nieces.

Father Daniel's body will be received at Saint Anselm Abbey Church at noon Tuesday, after which visitors may pay their respects until 9pm.

The Most Reverend Joseph J. Gerry, O.S.B., celebrated a Liturgy of Christian burial in the Abbey Church on Wednesday, May 23, 2007 while the Right Reverend Matthew K. Leavy, O.S.B., abbot of Saint Anselm, delivered the homily. Burial followed in Saint Leander's Cemetery, adjacent to the monastery on campus.

In lieu of flowers memorial donations may be made to the St. Anselm Scholarship Fund, 100 St. Anselm Drive Manchester NH.

Funeral Homily

Father Daniel Dempski, O.S.B.

23 May 2007

"Outrageous" is the only word that even comes close to describing someone who is bigger than life, boundless in energy, loud as thunder, ever creative, totally uninhibited, not constrained by time, omnipresent, someone who is constantly disguising himself, planning and acting in ways we don't fully comprehend, continually available to us yet mysteriously unpredictable, someone whose power is love and whose hallmark is joy.

"Outrageous" is the word that captures the essence of that someone who is our God. In His outrageous love we, all of us, "live and move and have our being." Acts 17:28 In God's outrageous love alone do we find meaning. In God's outrageous love are we sustained in life, enfolded in death and finally borne above to eternal life.

How can I dare to call God "outrageous"? Think about it. He calls us forth from nothingness, intending us to share in his perfect divine nature. He gives us the outrageous gift of free will which we sometimes misuse and thus find ourselves lost and confused. God pities our plight and gives us a "second chance" by sending His Son to enter our world of imperfection. This Son, God's beloved, by his preaching of the Good News and the example of his life, passion, death, resurrection and ascension fans into flame within our hearts that original spark of divine life now obscured by layers of choices that hide that spark even from ourselves. To restore us to who we were originally created to be, he peels off the layers of misguided choices, our weaknesses and sins, the heavy yoke that weighs us down and cripples us, that hurts us and others - He places it all upon Himself, carrying our burdens and our baggage for the journey home. But this Lord Jesus doesn't just point out the way, He Himself is the Way and thus accompanies us on every step of the journey: in good times and in bad,

in joy and in sorrow,

in sickness and in health,

in abundance and in need,

in life and in death,

in time and in eternity,

all the way home to that holy city, the heavenly Jerusalem where, as we just heard from the book of Revelation: "God will wipe every tear from our eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away. For behold, I make all things new.The victor will inherit these gifts, and I shall be his God and he will be my son." Rev. 21:2-7

This is our outrageous God and his loving plan of salvation, the mystery of which today's Gospel tells us is "hidden from the wise and learned but revealed to the childlike." Mt. 11:25 I have described this mysterious plan of our outrageous God in generic terms. But as we know, it only really exists in an intensely and intimately personal way. It is not a "one-size-fits-all" plan. God tailors it expertly to fit each one of us according to our need and in harmony with the unique constellation of factors which forms what we call personality.

St. Benedict reminds us in his Rule that "each has his gift from God; one this and another that." RB 40:1 We know that even though each of us enjoys a different blend of gifts, each gift, each person, reflects some facet of the God in whose image and likeness we were made. Some people even share in God's outrageousness to one degree or other - some less so, others more so.

This morning we have come together in prayer and gratitude to God for the gift he gave us of Father Daniel, our confrere, brother, uncle, cousin, great uncle, friend, colleague and teacher, who with his combination of gifts, personality and passion participated in the divine outrageousness, qualifying him, I believe, as someone who can rightly be called "outrageous" in any number of ways. Where does one even begin?

It is said that you can tell a lot about a person by the types of books on his shelves or objects on his walls. I'm not so sure this is always true, but there is some truth to it in Daniel's case. Two of the plaques in his room give some clue as to how he perceived reality and perhaps why he was so outrageous. The first is from William Blake:

Imagination is evidence of the divine.

But to understand Daniel, this must be read in tandem with a second quote from an anonymous author, (himself maybe?):

Sanity is the playground of the unimaginative.

For Daniel, an inveterate devotee of cartoons, comic strips, fiction and imaginative fantasy, the dividing line between the worlds of fantasy and fact, between the real and the imaginable was not always a solid line, allowing him to weave in and out of both these worlds perhaps a bit more freely and frequently than others. A highly intelligent and well-read man in several domains, he was equally, if not more so, at home, well-engaged and entertained by reading and rereading several times over the six Harry Potter books - and had already placed his order for the final one. Someone remarked that maybe his stroke had something to do with this. I don't think so. This was a part of who he always was. The only difference being that before his stroke he would have lost weight, bought the proper eyeglass frames and dressed up like Harry Potter in addition to reading him!

Some of Daniel's outrageous antics and antiques find their origin in this gift for the fanciful, the imaginative, the outrageous and the bizarre.

He was unsurpassed in his collections of things: hats, costumes, outfits, gadgets and paraphernalia of every variety. The question was never "Did Daniel have one?" The question was, "How many did he have? - In which colors, and in what sizes?" If a Bishop or Cardinal arrived for a ceremony without his skullcap, pectoral cross or anything else, Daniel could present an assortment of choices to outfit him completely. He even had a white skullcap just in case his friend the Polish Pope were ever to show up. Where he obtained all his stuff is one of the mysteries of faith, known to the outrageous God alone. Somehow I suspect that these two were in cahoots. Bishops - check your closets!

As mentioned in his obituary notice, he delighted in delighting others with his entertainment. When celebrating feastday Masses at convents, whether locally or at the Poor Clares in California, he would arrive in the sacristy dressed either as a Charles Dickens character, Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny and stand before the joyful throng of barefooted nuns giggling behind the grill of their cloister. He would do the same for local children, as St. Nicholas or Santa Claus and also for our students in the dorm as Darth Vader or King Kong. The costumes were, of course, accompanied by outrageous antics, infectious laughter and his uninhibited spirit. Fr. Peter, Daniel's novicemaster can attest that all this was already present when Daniel entered the novitiate back in 1973. Yet clearly there was an unmistakably childlike character to all this, which, as the Gospel tells us, is one of the prerequisites for understanding the nature of God, his plan for us and his kingdom.

Now it must be said that not everybody else had the same combination of gifts as Daniel did - a fact which at times posed some problems for him and for others - especially with those others whose gifts and responsibilities required that they operate in what Daniel believed to be "the playground of the unimaginative." I speak here of people like highway patrol officers, department chairs, priors, headmasters, treasurers, supervisors of any kind, academic deans and, of course, abbots, especially wicked abbots with what he called a "muggle" mind.

Here I must make a disclaimer. It may seem that some of what I am about to say is irreverent. Someone told me at the wake last night that Daniel was the most irreverent reverend she had ever known. What I am suggesting here is that not too far below the surface of his irreverence, there was a profound reverence for God and for others manifested in Daniel's imitation of Christ.

Before his stroke, he was always rushing to do a million projects and favors for this or that person, all at the same time. As a teacher, he sometimes had difficulty getting to his classroom on time. The headmaster had been receiving complaints and so decided to visit Daniel's class one morning. As he expected, Daniel hadn't shown up yet and the kids were all over the classroom. He closed the door, settled them down, and began to give the kids a lecture, chiding them for their immature behavior and challenging them to "grow up". When, all of a sudden, a window in the room flew open and in bounded Daniel, dressed in a full gorilla costume. The Headmaster was furious, but later recognized that even Daniel's childish behavior contained within it an element of the childlike, to which the Lord himself calls us. Alumni from the dorms here at the college who were at the wake last night could spend days recounting similar stories.

There were also times when such childlike and/or childish escapades and his ordinarily successful ability to weasel himself in and out of things did not succeed. This was obviously very frustrating to him and painful for others, myself included.

After his stroke, when I received word that he had set up an appointment in another state know for leniency in issuing driver's licenses to people with handicaps, and when I began receiving unsolicited emails from organizations whose work it was to provide cars which were specially equipped for disabled drivers, we had a talk. Nothing I said about his disabilities, his safety or the safety of others got through. Finally, in exasperation, I said: "You know Daniel, you may have the outfit and the hat in your collection, but you're not Peter Pan!" He replied, "See, you're twisting my words, I'm not asking to take flying lessons, I just want my driver's license. Besides, I'm not in good enough shape right now to wear green tights!" "You got that right," I replied, "and neither are you in good enough shape right now to drive a car!" "I hate you."- was his typical comeback. And until the very day of his death, he talked about his frustrated desire to drive and the muggle-minded abbot who did not understand him.

Let's move away now from this "playground of the unimaginative" and move to "Imagination as evidence of the divine." In this sense Daniel's penchant for the imaginative was indeed divine. In the nearly seven years following his paralyzing stroke, his faith in concert with his hopeful imagination fueled an indomitable spirit to keep going, no matter the odds or setbacks. He accepted both physical and mental handicaps without complaint, other than the drivers license issue and the occasional moan: "I just want to be normal," to which we ritually responded "Why now? You were never normal before?" which would again elicit his ritual response. "I hate you." And then he was on to the next of his activities which were legion. Daniel's refusal to indulge in self pity or to be pitied by others and his desire to live the monastic life and serve the community and college however he was able has provided an invaluable witness to us all. His generous spirit was evident whether delivering the mail every day, working in the library, substituting as receptionist in the dean of students office, proctoring final exams or cooking supper for the community, accomplishing it all with one hand, giving a new name to his famous pizza recipe, "Dan's Left-handed Pizza".

Upon hearing of the death of Pope John Paul II, Daniel mused about how inspired he was by this Pope. I followed up with a pious thought about how the Pope had also given a heroic witness in bearing his illness. Daniel replied, "No, stupid. I'm inspired because he was a thick headed Polock like me - and he made it all the way to the top!" Which end of his body was the Polish part and which the Irish part were always topics for speculation and smiles.

But Daniel's acting outrageously was but the surface of who he was most deeply. This church is not filled today because you all thought he was a funny guy. It was his ability to love outrageously that has brought so many of you his family, students, colleagues, and friends here today. He had a unique way, a "sty-ul", as he would say, of affirming, supporting and loving, a style that has been a channel of the divine for so many. Sometimes that channel was specifically spiritual or sacramental- celebrating Mass, preaching, hearing confessions, performing marriages, baptizing babies. Praying for others was also a major activity for Daniel, whether praying for those who have died, for the sick or those otherwise in need, for friends or alums preparing for surgery, or for Zoltan serving in Iraq. When teased about giving "left-handed" blessings, he assured everyone loudly and clearly that the blessings were valid all the same. Other times he used his gifts to counsel and console, bringing his own hopeful, creative and imaginative gifts to bear upon a stressful or sad situation. Sometimes in recent years he would just stop in to a campus office to visit and chat. But whatever the occasion, he always presented himself with characteristic generosity, greatness of spirit and good humor. It is important to remember that Daniel's love was not just a personality trait of an easygoing disposition. It was rooted in his profound love for Christ, who raises our feeble human efforts at loving to the level of the divine so that it is really the love of God operating through us.

Just one more wall plaque:

O Lord of second chances and new beginnings, here I am again.

This particular one was extremely helpful to him during his recovery. According to human standards, the time of role reversal, that is, the time when someone's active work as caregiver for others shifts and places them in a position requiring care, came prematurely for Daniel at age 48. We have already spoken about his graceful and faith-filled acceptance of God's will in this regard. I would like to speak now of your response to this unexpected turn of events that occurred on August 18, 2000. First, to my confreres, I can't tell you how proud I am of you and edified by you for the manifold ways in which you provided various modes of care to Daniel, assuring that his quality of life over the past seven years has been exceptionally high. You have fulfilled well St. Benedict's instruction that "Care of the sick must rank above and before all else, so that they may truly be served as Christ." RB 36:1 Thank you. Special thanks to Fr. Patrick, Fr. Mathias and Fr. Jerome who undertook specific responsibilities in service to Daniel.

I thank the various medical personnel who have assisted him all along the way whether at the hospital, rehab or in his ongoing care program, especially to Bishop McCormack, Bishop Christian, Fr. Ed Arsenault, Fr. Roland Cote and the staff at Bishop Peterson Residence who warmly welcomed Daniel for several months during his initial recovery.

I am grateful to his many friends who were sensitive and attentive to his needs along the way. Thank you also to his family: to Helen, to Buddy and Joyce, Alice and Wayne for your concern and your help. He was so proud of his nieces and nephews and their families: Robbie, Danny, and Stevie; Chrissie, Sue, Stephanie and Andrea; Samuel, Elizabeth, Abigail and finally, Gabriel, who died suddenly two years ago on the same day as his uncle, 19 May.

I thank my own family, some of whom are here today from New York, for having treated Daniel as one of their own, welcoming him to their homes every summer and Christmas - so much so that it took me a while to get used to their "preferential option for Daniel." I would call home and say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Easter, it's Kenny", and before even returning my greeting they would ask, "How's Daniel?" But, that's how it should be. That's what real family is all about.

Thank you in a special way to the sisters of St. Joan of Arc and the Benedictine sisters for spoiling Daniel and all the monks in so many ways for so many years. The staff of the monastery kitchen has also been exceptionally attentive to Daniel; thank you to Lori, Jerry, Marty and Moira for all your kindness.

But above all we thank the most outrageous of caregivers, God himself who said in today's Gospel: "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened and I will give you rest." Mt 11:28 "Rest" - not in some frozen lifeless state; that would really be returning to the "playground of the unimaginative," certainly no place for Daniel. The old order has passed away for Daniel. Eternal life is life indeed, completely freed from the bonds of human weakness, freed from the limitations imposed by illness, freed from regret, pain, and tears. Coming home to the holy city is what we were made for from the very beginning. Daniel left this earthly home in a hurry, may he arrive there in a hurry.

Never to be outdone in his flair for the dramatic, he is the only monk of our community ever to die in the Abbey church, sitting in his choir stall, doing his lectio divina, after having performed his assigned task of turning on the lights for Vespers. For me, Daniel's final two activities, turning on the lights and doing his lectio, represent a distillation of what our Benedictine life is all about- service of others in our work and service of God in our prayer.

I'm sure more imaginative minds might take the metaphor a bit further. Perhaps, Daniel turned on the lights for us, other lights, that we might see beyond ordinary human sight, beyond what is seen and transitory, into what is unseen, into the realm of God's outrageous love for us and the possibility of our channeling that love to others through the differing gifts we have received. Let us pray:

"O Lord of second chances and new beginnings, here we are again." Turn on your lights within us, fan once again into flame that divine spark of your presence and love that we might see more clearly the way that leads us home. Remind us at every turn that those whom you place in our path are your gifts to us, always to be reverenced and loved. Accompany us at every step so that one day, together with Daniel and all who have gone on ahead of us, we may enter that holy city, there to praise the glory of your outrageous love for us forever. Amen.

Let us close with a final quote which one of you, one of Daniel's students, sent me yesterday, taken from the writings of the Jesuit Fr. Teilhard de Chardin. I believe it is something worth pondering as we reflect on Daniel's journey and our own, as we reflect upon the mystery of God and his providential plan for each of us whether in earthly life or eternal life.

Joy is the infallible sign of God's presence.

As now for Daniel, so too let it be for us. Amen.

Abbot Matthew