Mark My Words

Class, clear your desks and take out a clean piece of paper.

Oh, how I hated to hear those words in school. It meant that a dreaded “pop quiz” was on its way.

OK, readers: Clear off the space around you and take out a clean piece of paper. Ready?

Here’s your quiz: Define “character.” (And no peeking at your neighbor’s paper!)

Among your definitions might be: “moral strength; fortitude” or “an eccentric or noteworthy person.” You get extra credit if you remembered your catechism and defined character as “an indelible mark,” imprinted on the soul, received in the sacraments of baptism, confirmation and holy orders.

You earn an “A+” if your definition of “character” was simply: Bishop Marion F. Forst. He was a character in every sense of the word!

Bishop Forst died on June 2. Though he was nearly 100, still his death came as a shock to me.

I doubt that there’s a priest in the archdiocese around my age or older, who doesn’t have a Bishop Forst story. His confirmation ceremonies were legendary (and a bit scary at times). Here ’s one of my personal favorites:

Early on, Bishop Forst came out to Tonganoxie for confirmation. Because he was known for “grilling” kids (gently but persistently) on the patron saint they’d chosen for confirmation, we drilled our candidates to know their saints inside and out.

During the ceremony, I announced one girl’s confirmation name as “Eliza-beth.” True to form, he asked the girl, “Which one? Which Elizabeth?” Without hesitation, the girl said, “Elizabeth of Hungary. She . . .”

Before she could launch into her exposition, though, Bishop Forst interrupted, “Aw, what do you want her for? Why not pick Elizabeth Ann Seton, a good American saint? ” He went ahead and confirmed her “Elizabeth,” but left out any more identifying information!

He was, indeed, a character. But he was a man of character as well, a faith-filled person. He had fortitude, the “strength to bear misfortune, pain, etc., calmly and patiently.” He was consistently of good cheer and sought to spread joy to others.

One of the ways he did that was through little notes. I went back in the parish files and resurrected some “pink sheets” stored there. This sheet is formally called a “nihil obstat,” or the permission granted by the bishop to a priest so that he can witness a marriage. The form is printed on pink paper.

When Bishop Forst was doing this paperwork, he often scribbled a little note underneath his signature before sending the sheet back to the priest. Going through these made me smile. On May 8, 1992, for instance, was the cryptic: “Did your mother reprimand you again?” On Nov. 9, 1993, he asked: “Did you go to the game last night?” One from July 6 of that year read: “Great front page today!” The last one I came across was from Nov. 21, 1997, where he noted: “I hope the ceremony goes well.” Each was signed with a simple closing, “Best.” I do believe that he genuinely wished the best for us priests.

The notes of Bishop Forst didn’t end when he stopped doing marriage papers. At The Leaven, we regularly heard from him. Usually only a few handwritten sentences long, he never missed an opportunity to complement and encourage the staff here. And he was always a warm, willing interviewee and “poser for photographs” for the various stories that we did over the years.

Perhaps the best image of Bishop Forst is found in a little story told about the Rev. J. Redford Wilson, a Baptist preacher. Once when Rev. Wilson entered the hospital, doctors told him that his chances of survival were slim. They said that surgery might help but, unfortunately, it was so risky, he might die. With steady eye-to-eye contact and a twinkling smile, Rev. Wilson said, “Either way, Doc, I win!” (Adapted from “Nelson’s Complete Book of Stories, Illustrations & Quotes” by Robert J. Morgan.)

I can hear Bishop Forst saying those same words. He loved life and lived it fully right up to the end. Although content to keep on living, he was also ready to die. Either way, like Rev. Wilson, Bishop Forst felt he was a winner.

Like a sacramental character, Bishop Forst left an indelible mark on the church’s soul here in northeastern Kansas. And we’re happier and holier for having known him.