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  Retired Bishop Emeritus John M. Smith Reflects on Life; Wanted to Be a Lawyer

By Erin Duffy
Times of Trenton
May 29, 2011

http://www.nj.com/mercer/index.ssf/2011/05/retired_bishop_emeritus_john_m.html

Called to Serve - Archbishop Thomas A. Boland of the Archdiocese of Newark ordains Father John M. Smith to the priesthood May 27, 1961. Photo courtesy of Bishop Smith

The way he tells it, the former bishop of the Diocese of Trenton never intended to enter the clergy.

Bishop Emeritus John M. Smith's parents were dutiful churchgoers and raised their three sons Catholic. But becoming a priest, devoting one's life to God, never appealed to Smith.

"To me it looked like it'd be boredom-ville," Smith, 75, said.

Like most plans, Smith's changed along the way. Now, decades later, he's celebrating his 50th year as an ordained priest and enjoying his retirement after stepping down in December as the ninth bishop of the Diocese of Trenton. The diocese is now headed by his successor, Bishop David M. O'Connell.

"As I'm talking to more and more lay-people who retire, they say it's an adjustment," he says of retirement. "I don't think I knew it'd be an adjustment. It's an adjustment not being the boss."

During a sit-down interview last week, a talkative Smith discussed retirement, his beginnings as a member of the clergy and his 13-year stewardship of the Diocese of Trenton. Comprising four counties and home to 830,000 Catholics, the diocese is the 19th largest in the United States.

During his tenure, the diocese, like so many across the country, underwent a tumultuous period of change.

As Mass attendance dropped and the church-going population declined or grew older, parishes consolidated, or in some cases, closed altogether, dropping from 127 in 2000 to 111 today. Schools followed suit, and as cases of clergy sex abuse exploded across headlines and in courtrooms, a 2003 study found 43 substantiated allegations of sex abuse in the Trenton diocese over a 52-year period.

Smith's days are now a bit quieter.

He still lives in Trenton, in the West State Street residence where bishops of the diocese have lived since 1924. In July he'll move, relocating to a priests' retirement home in Lawrence.

He still oversees Masses and confirmations across the diocese, and stops into his office in the diocese pastoral center on Route 206 in Lawrence to sift through his correspondence, what he calls his fan mail.

"Many of them said they liked me, so that's the fun part," Smith said. "And it's awfully nice to be able to say, if there's a problem, it's not my problem anymore."

He's come a long way from the boy who never considered entering religious life.

He originally planned to be a lawyer, but while attending college in Ohio, Smith joined a group of students looking to teach religion to convicts at a local prison.

What started as a chance to get a glimpse of life behind bars dawned into a realization for Smith: He was enjoying himself, enjoying the chance to impart his knowledge of Jesus, God, the Scriptures, to others.

"I said this is fun, I really like talking about God to these real people and they really seemed to respond to that," Smith said. "That was kind of the seed of my vocation."

Throughout his 50-year career, he rose through the ranks, bouncing between parishes in North Jersey, undergoing a stint as a visiting professor and spending six years in Rome at the Pontifical North American College, where he spent days steeped in European culture and history.

After serving as the bishop in Pensacola-Tallahassee in Florida, he came to the Diocese of Trenton in 1997 and took the helm as it began a sweeping series of changes.

He worked to make sermons and liturgies more lively, more accessible to younger families or adults who might not be as familiar with the church's teachings. Another initiative was a focus on adult education, filling parishioners in on the nitty-gritty of Catholic history and doctrine.

"But you have to be interesting in order to get people to come," Smith said. "There's a lot of competition. You can be watching 800 channels of TV tonight or you can be listening to Father Smith go over the Eucharist."

Though admittedly computer-illiterate, Smith took the diocese online in 2000 in a bid to move the Catholic Church into the 21st century. He also expanded the diocese's nearly nonexistent fundraising, organizing a Bishop's Annual Appeal in 2000, a yearly giving campaign that's raised $77 million to date.

Smith credits much of the diocese's work during his tenure to the many employees working under him.

"You couldn't run a diocese without employing very competent lay-people who are knowledgeable about finance and public relations and accounting," he said. "I often laugh when people say, 'Bishop Smith, you've done a wonderful job,' because I know it's the lay-people and others."

But Smith wasn't without his critics.

A spat with then-Gov. James McGreevey erupted in 2004 after Smith publicly called the governor "not a devout Catholic" for his support of abortion rights.

And under his watch, more than a dozen schools were closed, including all the Catholic schools operating within Trenton. Forty-four schools remain open today, and the diocese has not closed a school within the last two years.

"It's always difficult to close a school," Smith said. "A lot of people are hurt. ... They don't understand and they have all kinds of suggestions. You have a $450,000 deficit and (people say) we'll have a cake sale. It's good will, but it's not realistic."

The school closings, coupled with O'Connell's recent decision to not live in Trenton, have caused some Catholics and Trenton boosters alike to accuse the diocese of abandoning Trenton, like so many businesses and institutions before it.

Smith calls Trenton his home, but admits the "Diocese of Trenton" moniker is largely symbolic. The diocese spans four counties — Mercer, Burlington, Monmouth and Ocean — and the diocese's population has largely moved away from urban areas to suburban parishes with flourishing congregations.

New infusions of immigrants — mainly Hispanics and Filipinos — have helped graying congregations, especially those in the cities, from dying out entirely.

"Sometimes I used to joke, when I'd go up to the choir loft and look down, it looked like you were opening a box of Q-tips," Smith laughs. "Everyone had white hair."

Smith has also taken heat from clergy abuse organizations, who have pressed the diocese for greater transparency in addressing abuse claims and identifying perpetrators.

At a demonstration outside the diocese in March, members of the groups Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests and Road to Recovery criticized the diocese for failing to fully identify all accused priests or put their names online.

In the interview, Smith hailed the "courage" of the Catholic Church to tackle the issue head-on as the church's sex abuse scandal grew.

"I think the whole issue of child sex abuse by priests has been a very painful experience for any of us who are involved in the church but particularly for the clergy," he said. "We were embarrassed, we were ashamed we were hurt that this was going on in our midst. I'm thankful to God that the church in the United States had the courage to address it very directly."

Still, throughout the course of his 75-year life, Smith admits to few regrets. He claims to still thank God every night for sending him to the Diocese of Trenton.

"I can say this is my home," he said. "The people I love are here and they've been so good to me. They've taken in this barbarian from North Jersey."

 
 

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