logo
Northeast Ohio pastor reflects on meeting Pope Francis: ‘A bridge builder'

Northeast Ohio pastor reflects on meeting Pope Francis: ‘A bridge builder'

Yahoo23-04-2025

BAY VILLAGE, Ohio (WJW) – The pastor of Saint Raphael Catholic Church in Bay Village said Pope Francis will be remembered as a bridge builder and a man of the people.
Father Dan Schlegel has a unique perspective after being part of six audiences with the pontiff over the past 12 years.
'What we got in Francis was the heart. To really be a servant leader and it fills my heart with joy that we were able to have him for as long as we did,' Schlegel said.
7-year-old treated at Akron Children's for rare skin condition
A photo in Schlegel's office at St. Raphael shows him sharing a one-on-one moment with Pope Francis at the Vatican in November 2023.
'I was really surprised. It was a room with about 300 people. He took the time to greet every single person in that room,' he said.
Schlegel said from the first day Francis became Pope in 2013, he was impressed with his kindness and humility.
'They wanted him to put on the red slippers that had been pretty much a tradition for the Popes,' Schlegel said. 'He refused to do that and instead he had his shoes from Argentina with holes still in them. That's just the kind of guy that he was.'
The pastor said during one of his visits to Rome, Pope Francis showed compassion for a friend of Schlegel who suffers from Lou Gehrig's disease.
'The Pope reached right out to him and hugged him and his mother and it was beautiful. He was not afraid to go out and that's what the church needed, someone who was willing to go out to the people,' he said.
Former Avon football player dies at college
During another visit to Rome by a delegation from Cleveland, the financial support of museums at the Vatican by the Catholic community of Northeast Ohio was acknowledged by Pope Francis.
'Bishop Malesic said 'Cleveland' and the Pope said 'ah, Cleveland,' which I take as a pretty good sign,' Schlegel said with a smile.
The pastor said one of the most memorable audiences he had with Pope Francis came during the COVID pandemic.
He said the meeting demonstrated how the pontiff was focused on bringing people together, even during the most difficult of circumstances.
'He truly was a bridge builder, which was to love and accept people on one side of the bridge where they were and to help them move across the bridge to where they could be and I love that about him,' Schlegel said.
Schlegel said Pope Francis will also be remembered for lifting up people who were left behind by society.
'He brought hope, he brought joy, he brought peace, he brought possibility and helped people to strive to want to do exactly that. To be better than they were and he knew that was possible,' he said.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

How many US adults have connections to Catholicism? What new survey finds
How many US adults have connections to Catholicism? What new survey finds

Miami Herald

time13 hours ago

  • Miami Herald

How many US adults have connections to Catholicism? What new survey finds

Catholics make up one of the largest religious groups in the United States — more than any Protestant denomination — and many who don't identify with the faith still said they have a personal or family connection to it, according to a new survey. Nearly half of Americans, 47%, said they have a relationship to the Catholic faith, with 20% identifying as Catholic, 9% identifying as a 'cultural Catholic' and 9% saying they are a former Catholic, according to a June 16 Pew Research Center study. Another 9% of respondents said they were connected to Catholicism in different ways — either having a Catholic parent or partner or having attended Mass, the survey found. 'Catholicism's roots in the United States run deep,' researchers said. The survey of 9,544 U.S. adults, including 1,787 Catholics, took place Feb. 3 to 9 — prior to the hospitalization of the late Pope Francis — and has a margin of error of plus or minus 1.3 percentage points. While 50% of Americans who identify as Catholic said they pray daily, 40% said they 'seldom or never attend Mass,' according to the survey. Twenty-eight percent of Catholics said they go to Mass at least weekly, per the poll. A plurality of Catholics, 47%, said they never go to confession, compared with 23% who said they go at least once a year, the survey found. A small number of U.S. adults, 1.5%, are converts to Catholicism, according to the survey, which found this group sometimes observes the faith at higher rates than those born into it. Thirty-eight percent of people who have converted to Catholicism attend Mass weekly, 10 percentage points higher than people who were born into the faith, the survey found. What do Catholics see as essential to their religious identity? Researchers also asked Catholics about the essentials of religious identity. A personal relationship with Jesus Christ ranked first on the list, with 69% of Catholics believing this was an important part of their faith, according to the survey. Fifty percent of Catholics said devotion to the Virgin Mary was important and 47% said helping the poor and needy was essential to their religious identity, the survey found. Opposing abortion, taking care of the environment and caring for immigrants also showed up on the list of essentials, at 32%, 31% and 30%, respectively, according to the survey. Pilgrimages were the least important to Catholic identity, at 9%, according to the survey.

Why Pride Month will always matter
Why Pride Month will always matter

Boston Globe

time17 hours ago

  • Boston Globe

Why Pride Month will always matter

Advertisement We loved each other behind closed doors, initially planning our future without ever saying the word 'boyfriend' publicly. That's what you do when growing up gay in a world that teaches you to hide. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up And then one day, I found Scott. Lifeless, at the bottom of a pool. The autopsy called it an accidental drowning. But for me, his death left behind more questions than answers. He was 27. I was 26. I came out in a Facebook post later that day. Not because I was ready, but because I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't grieve for my boyfriend when I couldn't call him that. I couldn't live in a closet that had just turned into a tomb. Even then, some people seemed more focused on my being gay than the fact that the love of my life had died. One of Scott's relatives told me to my face — just days after his death — that 'homosexuality isn't natural.' I was barely functioning and suddenly being forced to defend my existence in the middle of overwhelming grief. Advertisement As Scott's obituary was being written, I was at first listed only as 'his friend' but asked his family to change that to 'partner.' I'm deeply grateful they did. That I had to advocate for myself says everything about the quiet, exhausting grief queer people carry. We're not just mourning the person, we're mourning the silence we were forced to live in. That's the cost of shame. That's the price of hiding. And that's why Pride Month still matters. I n the years that followed, I tried to outrun the pain. I worked obsessively to build a business from scratch, convincing myself that if I achieved enough, performed enough, I'd finally feel worthy. But I was building coping mechanisms, not success. Eventually, I lost it all. I went bankrupt. Underneath the rubble of my business wasn't just financial failure — it was the little boy who never believed he was enough. Who learned early that being himself was something to hide or somehow overcome with professional accomplishments. We don't talk enough about what the closet does to people. I went to an all-boys Catholic high school, where I didn't build any lasting friendships. No one was overtly cruel to me — people were actually pretty kind. Yet I kept a safe distance, afraid that if I let anyone too close, they'd see through the version of myself I had learned to perform. I wasn't bullied but I was invisible. Advertisement In the draft of our senior yearbook, I was voted 'Biggest Non-Conformist.' I was so ashamed I begged the editor to take it out (he did). I thought they were mocking me, calling me the weird gay guy. Now, I see that they weren't insulting me. They were acknowledging that I was different — they were giving me a compliment. I just wasn't ready to accept that being different could be a good thing. I walked the hallways feeling a few layers removed from everyone else — constantly putting on an act, never fully present. That experience rewired how I moved through the world. Later, I became someone who always went the extra mile for bosses, for boyfriends, for friends who didn't always reciprocate. I chased wealth and admiration as if they were the antidote to the thing I was too ashamed to say out loud. The distance between myself and others didn't just cause me to miss out on teenage romance. I missed out on myself. Participants cheer at the start of the Boston Pride Parade in 2019. Craig F. Walker/Globe Staff Today, when I see politicians banning books, erasing history about the gay rights movement, and calling education about LGBTQ+ topics 'grooming,' I don't just see a political strategy. I see the infliction of damage. Let's talk about grooming, then. Because I was groomed, too — to be straight. I was groomed by every TV show that told me boys only marry girls. By every classroom that pretended people like me didn't exist. By every adult who said, 'You'll meet a nice girl someday,' before I had the chance to discover who I was. That's grooming. It's just the kind we've normalized. What grooms kids into shame is erasure. It's growing up not seeing yourself represented in books. It's being told, through silence or scorn, that who you are, and who you love, is inappropriate. That your family is 'too political.' That your hand holding and kisses should be kept private or at least 'not shoved in our faces.' Advertisement When we talk to children about families that have two moms, or two dads, or one parent, or chosen family — it's not about sex. It's about visibility. It's about the kid with two dads seeing themselves in a book and thinking, I belong here. It's about giving every child the gift of empathy, not confusion. I didn't get that growing up. I don't believe Scott did either. And that's why Pride is as important as ever. It is not just a parade or a party. It's a protest. It's a memorial. It's a lifeline. It's for the ones who came out late. For the ones who never got to come out at all. For the queer kids in classrooms across the country who are being told their truth is inappropriate or wrong or bad. And for the adults who still carry the consequences of their silence. Today, I'm proud to say I'm happily married to an incredible man. But it took 10 years of therapy and a lot of trauma to finally get here. I'm 36, and I still feel emotionally underdeveloped in some ways. That's the damage shame can do. My husband didn't come out to his family until he was 29. He was 34 when we started dating; I was his first boyfriend. We're both learning how to love out loud. We're unlearning the kinds of choices you make for survival. Advertisement So when someone rolls their eyes and says, 'Why do we still need Pride?' this is what I want to say: Because silence kills. Because shame ruins lives. Because being gay is a gift but only if the world lets you unwrap it. And because I loved a man who never felt fully safe being himself, in a world still learning how to accept people like us. Rest in peace, Scott. A.J. MacQuarrie is a growth strategist and sales leader who helps others navigate growth with purpose. He lives in the Boston area with his husband and their two dogs. Send comments to magazine@

Toastmasters reaches out to Sudbury's newcomers
Toastmasters reaches out to Sudbury's newcomers

Hamilton Spectator

timea day ago

  • Hamilton Spectator

Toastmasters reaches out to Sudbury's newcomers

Celebrating more than 100 years, Toastmasters 'has been inspiring people to confidently communicate through regular practice and evaluation in fun and supportive clubs around the globe.' Sudbury has four clubs, including two French-language groups. Dr. Richard Denton insisted I come and talk with the participants at the Parkside Centre, which includes many Sudburians. The city has welcomed thousands of newcomers in recent years and for many, English or French is not their first language. Ignace Louisjean originates from Haiti: 'I want to become more proficient in English,' she said. 'It helps in my work and in my integration into Sudbury. I would encourage anyone to come to Toastmasters. I come every week. It is a commitment to my future.' 'Thanks to Toastmasters,' Navneet Kaur reflected, 'I feel I belong to a supportive community. I have more self-confidence and (have) seen personal growth.' Does it help in her workplace? 'I would say absolutely yes. I will continue next year and even recruit people to join. I've been here in Canada now two years. This would help all immigrants. If this is not your native language, there is so much to learn.' The idioms are particularly interesting to Kaur. 'I had to learn that a raincheck has really nothing to do with a wet day. I have the words, but even the decorations and meanings can be very odd. 'Saying that something doesn't have much meat or potatoes on the plate really has nothing to do with dinner. I learned about raining cats and dogs from my driving instructor.' Suzanne Rondeau, Area N13 director and long-time grade school teacher, has been involved for years. 'Use your voice with confidence and you have credibility,' she said. During her career, she felt leading a Junior Kindergarten class was important since this is where language skills were built, 'including speaking and communicating well. 'Here, the clubs are so welcoming. This would be so helpful for new Canadians to join. Toastmasters helps you find your wings. You might even learn to soar like an eagle. 'English idiomatic expressions are difficult. This is the best place to learn and practise. Today is like an annual wrap-up event. We have not done this for some years. Not just because of COVID. The suggestion was that we needed an in-person, face-to-face celebration. We even have two guests from North Bay.' Sandi Emdin belongs to the lunchtime noon-hour Toastmasters. Well, actually, she founded this chapter. 'Now we have members from a variety of countries from around the world,' Emdin said. 'It used to be very local, but now it is global. This is an excellent platform for people who have just come to Canada. 'We only had Sudbury members until the pandemic. Now that we are online, we have a variety of people and places.' Go to for more details on the organization. Follow the banner links to 'find a club' and type in Sudbury. The Local Journalism Initiative is made possible through funding from the federal government. Bluesky: @ X: @SudburyStar Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store