Before South Jersey, a priest of New York

This article was written for Catholic New York by Claudia McDonnell when Bishop Dennis Sullivan was named a bishop in 2004. It has been slightly abridged.

Bishop-elect Dennis J. Sullivan defines himself in one word: pastor. His heart is in parish life: in celebrating the sacraments, preaching, getting to know the people he serves and helping them in whatever ways he can. He has spent his entire priesthood serving in parishes, most recently at SS. John and Paul in Larchmont, where he has been pastor for the past five years. For the previous 21 years he was pastor of Saint Teresa’s Parish on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

Perhaps it’s because he thinks of himself first and always as a parish priest that the call to become a bishop took him by surprise. When Cardinal Egan gave him the news, he reacted with “unbelief, disbelief,” he said.

“My heart began to pound,” he added. “It was so out of the blue.” But he says he is ready for the challenge that will begin on Sept. 21, when Cardinal Egan ordains him to the episcopacy together with Bishop-elect Gerald T. Walsh. “Whatever the cardinal presents to me, I’ll give it my best shot,” he said.

If he isn’t sure how he was chosen to become a bishop, he knows exactly how he fell in love with being a parish priest. It goes back to his days as deacon in the early 1970s, when he was studying for the priesthood at Saint Joseph’s Seminary in Dunwoodie. Transitional deacons – seminarians who were preparing for priesthood – spent about four days a week serving in a parish, “preaching, observing, living in the rectory,” the bishop-elect said. Back in the seminary, they would discuss and reflect on their experiences with faculty and other priests.

He was assigned to Saint Pius V parish in the South Bronx, where current development is transforming what was then a scene of urban decay and despair.

‘‘The South Bronx was burning at the time,’’ Bishop-elect Sullivan said. ‘‘It was drug-ridden.’’

But in the parish there was hope and vitality, and he found a mentor who whom he describes as ‘‘an amazing priest’’— Father John C. Downes, pastor of Saint Pius V from 1969 until his death in 1976. The experience of working in the parish among people who were poor, with Father Downes as model and guide, affected him powerfully and helped set the course for his priesthood.

The parish population was largely Puerto Rican, and the bishop-elect said that Father Downes was one of the first priests in the New York Archdiocese to learn Spanish.

‘‘What I saw in him was this friend of the poor, loved by his people and constantly with them,’’ he said. ‘‘I saw in him what I needed to see.’’ One image left an indelible impression. ‘‘After he would say daily Mass, he used to spend a long time in the sanctuary,’’ the bishop-elect said. ‘‘I would observe that. I knew that was what gave him the strength and the power and the energy he needed for the day.’’

His work at Sant Pius V reinforced the commitment to serving the needy that he already had developed at Dunwoodie. He says it grew out of his studies, his reading and the influence of Vatican Council II.

‘‘I felt the church needed to be with the poor,’’ he said, and for most of his priesthood, that is where he has been. ‘‘I never felt I was doing something unique or special,’’ he said. ‘‘I felt this is where God wanted me to be. This is where the church is; that’s why I’m here.’’

Born in the Bronx

He was born on March 17, 1945, in the Bronx, the third of four children of Hanorah Hayes Sullivan, a homemaker, and John Sullivan, a cab driver. The Sullivans belonged to Saint Anthony’s Parish on Commonwealth Avenue, and all four children graduated from the parish school.

The example of the parish priests and “the whole experience of growing up in a tight-knit parish” influenced his vocation, he said. He began to think about priesthood as a student at Mount Saint Michael Academy in the Bronx, but he said that he struggled with the idea. He want on to Iona College, where a “wonderful” chaplain guided him and helped him to make his decision. He left Iona after his sophomore year to enter Dunwoodie.

Shortly after his ordination on May 29, 1971, he was sent with two other priests to the Dominican Republic to learn Spanish, the better to serve the many Spanish-speaking immigrants who were coming to New York City. He spent about three months there, based in a town in the Cibao region where the priest had fallen ill.

“I learned to speak Spanish very fast because nobody spoke English,” he said. “When he returned to New York he was assigned to Saint Elizabeth’s Parish in Washington Heights. He was it was “like a love affair.”

“I had five wonderful years there,” he said. Msgr. James J. Dorney, now regional vicar of Staten Island and pastor of Saint Peter’s Parish, was the senior parochial vicar.

“He taught me how to be a parish priest,” Bishop-elect Sullivan said.

The parish population was largely Cuban, but immigrants were coming in from the Dominican Republic, including some from the village where he had served. His experience with them and with the Puerto Rican community made him aware of the cultural differences between Spanish-speaking people from different nations and regions. He remarked that Americans tend to think of them collectively as Hispanic, but he said, “I wonder if there is such a creature.”

Serving in Washington Heights, he came to know his fellow bishop-elect, then-Father Gerald T. Walsh, who was a parochial vicar at Holy Trinity on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Both priests were involved in “Fifteen Churches for a Better Manhattan,” an ecumenical advocacy group. One result of the local activism was the founding of the Star Senior Center in the basement of Saint Elizabeth’s Church. It’s still running.

“That was my first taste of the social ministry of the church,” Bishop-elect Sullivan said. He would become more involved later, especially as pastor of Saint Teresa’s.

In 1976 he was assigned to SS Philip and James in the northeast Bronx, where he learned about Caribbean culture among people from Jamaica, Saint Lucia, Saint Kitts and other islands – “wonderful strong families,” he said. He was a parochial vicar for five years there, than at Ascension Parish in Manhattan for about 10 months.

Pastor of Saint Teresa’s

In 1982, just 11 years after his ordination, he was made pastor of Saint Teresa’s. It was “an incredibly enriching, wonderful experience,” he said.

“My principal work there was the work of the parish – the worship of God and the preaching and celebration of the sacraments,” he said. He also was an activist on behalf of the poor, especially on housing issues. The neighborhood was attracting higher-income residents, and “the poor were being driven out of the tenements,” he said.

The Lower East Side Catholic Area Conference (LESAC), an archdiocesan organization composed of area parishes, sponsored action on behalf of those in need and pioneered a sweat equity cooperative for low- and moderate-income residents. Bishop-elect Sullivan was a board member of LESAC and other organizations.

“If I was going to be present in that neighborhood, I had to be present as a Catholic priest who was bringing our message to that neighborhood,” he said. He read the U.S. bishops’ documents on housing and brought those teachings to the meetings he attended. His goal was simply “to get poor people housed, because Christ was poor and without housing.”

But he never considered himself a social activist, and he doesn’t care for the term. He says he was simply being a priest, doing what a priest is called to do. That included meeting and forming coalitions with people of differing backgrounds and beliefs, or no belief.

“I think I’m a very open person, and I learned that openness on the streets of the Lower East Side,” he said.

At Saint Teresa’s he worked with Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary of New Windsor, who served as pastoral associates. Their responsibilities included religious education and sacramental preparation.

“Those women religious were a very important presence in that parish,” he said. “They still are.”

Bishop-elect Sullivan said that he loved every day at Saint Teresa’s, even on “the worst days on Henry Street,” except, perhaps, for one: Sept. 11, 2001. He was offering Mass in the lower church with Father Alfredo Monteiro, parochial vicar, when the first plane struck the World Trade Center. When Mass ended, the parish secretary ran in screaming. The priests came outside in their vestments and saw the second plane hit the tower.

“I knew it wasn’t an accident,” Bishop-elect Sullivan said. Dazed and frightened people began streaming into the church.

“We washed their ears, their eyes; we put out water and chairs,” he said. “They wanted phones; we had phones. We used every phone we had in the convent.”

The other crisis the parish faced was the collapse of the church roof. … Saint Teresa’s was built as a Protestant church in 1842 and was consecrated as a Catholic church in 1863. Then-Msgr. Sullivan was away on the day that 30,000 pounds of plaster crashed through a suspended ceiling and ended up in the lower church.

“I think we had Mass on the street on the first Sunday” after the collapse, he said. He went to a “wonderful Jewish neighbor” at a social service agency, who told him, “Your people are my people,” and offered space to celebrate Mass.

“We were there for six months,” he said. “They kept Saint Teresa’s going.” Reconstruction was financed by the sale of some property, and “the parish survived and became stronger.”

The best part of a busy day

After 21 years at Saint Teresa’s, he decided to “try something new.” Suburban Larchmont brought big changes geographically, but perhaps not so much in other ways.

“I thought, here’s this street priest coming into a whole other economic situation, with a whole other set of circumstances and people,” he said, but “I found out that people are the same.” What parishioners expect in Larchmont is exactly what parishioners expected in his other assignments.

He enjoys talking with people and hearing their comments on his homilies.

“Preaching has been a defining characteristic of my priesthood,” he said. “That reflects the training I received at Dunwoodie.”

One recent day when he had to come to Manhattan for a meeting, he got stuck in an evening traffic jam that made him miss an appointment with a couple arranging to have their new baby baptized. He was able to see them an hour later, and he said it was “the best part” of his day – talking to them and sharing in the joy of their baby’s arrival.

“I got to know Jesus in them, as I hope they got to know Jesus in me,” he said. That is why he chose as his episcopal motto, “In the breaking of the bread.”

“That’s where we come to know Jesus,” he said. The motto also defines his priesthood: Eucharist, sacraments, service. In other words, being a pastor.

“That’s who I am,” he said. “That’s really who I hope to be as a bishop.