By Father Mark Pasik
Sun contributing writer

Recently, Father Richard J. Stuczko died at his retirement home in Florida. It was a residence in a condominium village of people from around the nation.

His presence was that of a priest, who without duties of pastoral administration, breathed a unique awareness of God and the church in the charisms of a so-called retirement.

Father Stuczko was born in East Utica, in the parish of St. Stanislaus, bishop and martyr, on April 22, 1929.

It was the apex of the “Roaring Twenties.” Yet, the clear lessons of the economic depression that followed, chyrstalized his  generation into recognizing what is, as St. Augustine stated, “Ever ancient, ever new,” i.e., God sustains us and strengthens our faith in every age. With the guidance of his late uncle, Father Charles Stuczko, his youth yielded to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Father Richard entered studies for the priesthood beginning at Niagara University and ending at Ss. Cyril and Methodius Seminary near Detroit.

This prepared him well for the challenges of the “Roaring Fifties.”

On June 5, 1954, Father Stuczko was was ordained “a priest forever” in the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. It was a time of great hope and recovery from a world that had been at war.

Parishes and vocations to the priesthood and religious life were flourishing, yet, the lessons of a simple Catholic catechetical training, the death of his mother in his youth, the economic challenges of a community and indeed of a nation, World War II, the Korean Conflict, together with a sparkling wit, would indicate his preparedness to simply preach, teach, sanctify and heal in the midst of a society at relative peace. Nevertheless, the social turmoils of the 1960s and 1970s, together with the challenges of a technocratic generation and constant change, did not alter the calm and consistent approach of this priest “in season and out of season.”

Father Stuczko’s assignments starting in Rome at St. Mary’s Parish with follow-up communities in Binghamton, Johnson City, Utica, Oxford and finally Oriskany, all provided the unique perspective of a priest who had an appreciation of the greater diocese. Whether it was as chaplain at the New York State Veteran’s Home in Oxford or chaplaincy at the Oneida County Jail in Oriskany, Father Stuczko brought, as everyone experienced, an empathetic  and pastoral presence. His sense of realism, intelligence and humor was a sign of contradiction in environments challenged by despair.

Father Stuczko would travel seasonally back to New York State to a small residence near Lake Pleasant. His friends looked forward to his return and they were loyal. Though his health had been failing, his mind and humor were always nourished by the priesthood and God’s never-failing presence.

Father Stuczko was a friend and mentor. His priesthood and humanity were uniquely placed for all seasons until the Lord came at an unexpected time.

His sparkling and humorous personality will have a rippling effect in the lives of those he served. For his friends, we are graced and rewarded for having known him. Father Richard would frequently say, “Put it all in the hands of our Blessed Mother!”

At this time, we place this time, we place this beloved priest of God in the hands of this same Lady!
(Father Pasik is pastor of St. Mark’s Church in Utica.)

Father Bassano writes from Tanzania

By Father Mike Bassano, MM
Sun contributing writer

God comes to visit us in so many unexpected moments and disguised ways. All we need to do is be aware and open to the divine surprise in the ordinary events of every day.

Samueli came to our home of compassion nine years ago. He was a pushcart worker loading bags of sugar, rice or wood to be carried to local stores or homes in the town of Musoma. At the end of a hard working day Samueli would sit down for a drink with his fellow pushcart friends. He began to drink heavily every day consuming 1.5 litre bottles called “Bombonya” which  was filled with a village distilled homemade liquor called “gongo.” Because he drank that whole bottle of liquor daily his friends gave him the nickname “Bombonya.”

Samueli’s family abandoned him and told him to leave the house because they were ashamed of his alcoholic behavior. As a result, he would sleep in the streets after his nights of heavy drinking. One night his friends found him lying in the street unconscious and brought him to the local hospital. Samueli lay unconscious on the hospital ward floor for three days because of the lack of beds. Afterward our servants of love (watumishi wa upendo in Kiswahili) who care for our poor people at our home, came to visit one of our sick people and happened to notice Samueli lying on the floor completely naked. He must have soiled his clothes and there was nothing to replace them as the hospital does not provide clothing, only families do. They immediately told Father Godfried Biseko, the founder of our home, and he received permission from the hospital for Samueli to come and live with us.

As Samueli felt welcomed in his new home, he was becoming more conscious and aware of where he was. When someone called him by the name of “Bombonya,” he responded, “My name is not Bombonya, my name is Samueli.”

Each day, I have the responsibility of getting Samueli out of bed to give him his daily bath. I then help him to exercise and walk because, at age 69, his legs and body are getting more weak and feeble. Recently, he became too weak to walk and is now confined to a wheelchair. But after his bath he loves to go outside in his wheelchair to greet the sun (or “jua” as he tells me in Kiswahili). I also help in bringing him his food and drink. At the end of the day I get him ready for bed, covering him with a sheet, blanket and mosquito net, telling Samueli that I’ll see him tomorrow.

On the breastplate prayer of St. Patrick of Ireland it is written: “Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ all around me, Christ within me.” I cannot help but rejoice in the presence of Jesus shining through a man called Samueli.

(Samueli died recently and I had the honor of presiding at his funeral liturgy and burial. I got a bit emotional at the liturgy by this man who touched my life. I know he is at home in the Beloved God and with us in spirit! — Father Mike)

Remembering Father Angelo Libera

By Jennika Baines
Sun Associate Editor

Strong, straight-talking and athletic, Father Angelo Libera was remembered as a priest who was as devoted to his faith and his country as he was to his family and the people of the Syracuse Diocese. He died on Aug. 25 at the age of 81.

His funeral Mass was celebrated by Bishop Thomas Costello at St. Cecilia’s Church in Solvay on Monday, Aug. 30.

Msgr. Ronald Bill, a longtime friend of Father Libera’s, delivered the homily. “Today we say goodbye to a great man, a wonderful priest, a true citizen of Solvay. St. Cecilia’s was always his church. Solvay was always his town,” Msgr. Bill said. “He was the people’s hero, their priest.”

Born March 10, 1929 to Giuseppe and Cattarina Libera, Father Libera grew up in Solvay and attended Solvay High School. It was here that his ability as an athlete became apparent. Msgr. Bill said his friend made all-county and could have gone on to become a professional athlete.

“He was ready to play in the big leagues, but instead he chose to stay in God’s league,” Msgr. Bill said.

After high school Father Libera went on to attend St. Bernard’s Seminary and was ordained in 1957.

His first assignment was as assistant pastor of St. John the Baptist Church in Rome. “He did well as an associate pastor. Everyone loved him and his quiet style of leadership,” Msgr. Bill said.

But Father Libera felt another calling in his priesthood, and in 1963 he entered the U.S. Navy as a military chaplain.

“Ange was a great chaplain,” Msgr. Bill said. “He loved the marine corps and he served them with enthusiasm and honor.”

During his tour, Father Libera was transferred to the first of what would be many Marine commands, including the 3rd Marine Division on Okinawa, Japan; the 1st Battalion, 7th Marines in Vietnam; the 2nd Marine Division with the 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, and later the 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines; the 2nd Field Artillery Group at Camp Lejeune, N.C. and the Marine Corps Air Station in Beaufort, S.C.

Father Libera’s ministry brought him back overseas to Okinawa and to the 2nd Marine Division at Camp Lejeune. After a Naval assignment at the Coast Guard Academy in Conn., Father Libera returned to the Marines one final time in 1987 where he was assigned to his final tour of active service as the Command Chaplain, Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune.

After more than 25 years of service, Father Libera was a captain in the navy and a full colonel in the U.S. Marine Corps when he retired in 1989.

He returned to the Syracuse Diocese after his retirement, and Msgr. Bill said Father Libera gave up the opportunity to be a pastor so that he could serve wherever he was needed. He earned the same respect with the people of this diocese as he earned during his military service.

“Ange was an honest man. He told you the way it was,” Msgr. Bill said. “He was a humble man. A man of few words, some I cannot mention here,” Msgr. Bill said to the laughter of those gathered.

Msgr. Bill also got the congregation chuckling when he recalled how Father Libera would often end a visit after a few minutes with the words, “You can go now.”

Father Libera faced even illness with the characteristic strength which he learned in the military.

Msgr. Bill remembered a time when the two of them were golfing and Father Libera began speaking about athletes and how they can often seem indestructible. But Father Libera said that his time in the military had made him more aware of his own mortality.

“I asked him if he was frightened of death. And he said, ‘No. Death is scary, I admit, but my faith pushes me to view death with promise,’” Msgr. Bill said.

Father Libera then went on to say that he came to realize that the fear of death need not infect the time one is given on earth and should instead inspire everyone to savor their years and keep expressing both the faith and the love that defines a life well-lived.

“A few years ago, Ange’s health began to decline,” Msgr. Bill said. Father Libera was put on dialysis three times a week. “It was a difficult time for a man so athletic, so strong.”

When Msgr. Bill and some friends went to visit Father Libera for the final time, he was so weak he struggled to lift his arm to shake hands. But as Msgr. Bill walked away, Father Libera’s hand stayed up in a farewell salute.

“Today on behalf of all the priests, our bishop, the people of St. Cecilia’s and this diocese,” Msgr. Bill said, “I salute you for all you have done for the church, your country and all of us.”