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The words of St. Paul (Cf. Col 3:12 –17) typify the life of Urban
Francis Bates, OP. But what can one say in just a few sentences that
captures the whole life of an individual? I want to exemplify just some
of the qualities, passions and eccentricities of Urban Bates.
Urban was a Dominican. In the Order, we speak of bringing the Gospel
to the ends of the earth. Urban did this by serving in the jungles of
Chiapas for three years and by serving in the various parishes of the
Province; however, he spent the last 29 years of his life serving the
people of Alaska.
He began by serving at the North Slope of Alaska on the DEW Line (the
Distant Early Warning Line) as chaplain to the military and civilians
who served there. For many years he served in the farthest reaches of
the Alaskan Bush. Then, for a while he ministered on the "circuit,"
i.e., in various parishes and missions in the Archdiocese of Anchorage
outside the city limits of Anchorage. Finally, he spent his remaining
years at Holy Family Cathedral in Anchorage, ministering at the
Cathedral and in some of the city’s prisons.
As a missionary, he developed an Alaskan spirit with a character that
fit Alaska: he was hearty, tough and rugged. In his various ministries
in Alaska he met up with extreme climate conditions on a regular basis.
He survived months of complete darkness while in the far North, while
also weathering extreme temperatures that sometimes went below –50º. We
often joked that Urban was indestructible. He survived rotten food,
numerous car accidents, plane crashes, falling down on the ice, harsh
winters in a trailer and months of darkness and isolation with a shrug!
He was independent, had faith without fear, and believed that "God will
provide" in all things. He was always on the move. Further, he learned
to be resourceful and self-reliant. He loved to build things—and did it
his way. At the house in Anchorage, we would get nervous when, out of
the blue, we would hear sawing and hammering somewhere in the house. We
weren’t sure where there would be a new hole in the wall or an extra
shelf added. There is an old saying, "You can’t make a silk purse out of
a sow’s ear," but Urban tried!
Urban loved to fly—whether it was from the cockpit of a plane or from
behind the wheel of a car. He was mobile and on the go; he was a "speed
demon." While in Anchorage, he received the generous gift of a little
red sports car from a friend. I remember him joking (with a wicked
smile), "That’s my personality!" I also remember a trip we took to
McCarthy years ago. One of the brethren told me not to get into the car
with Urban. I thought he was joking! As Urban and I flew over the
two-foot deep potholes on the way to McCarthy—at 45 miles per hour—he
stated confidently, "If you go faster you don’t actually hit any of the
potholes." I remember praying three acts of contrition on that
particular trip.
Urban was a survivor of the Great Depression. There is no doubt that
this made a huge impact upon his life. He took his vow of poverty
seriously. There is an old saying, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do,
or do without." That captures the mindset of Urban Bates. Because of the
intensity of his desire to live a life of simplicity and poverty, he
often was a challenge to his Dominican brethren. Frequently, he gave
away the community funds to anyone who came knocking at the door. On a
few occasions, he allowed the homeless into the house to make themselves
a sandwich or to make a phone call. I once found a man rummaging through
the refrigerator. I asked him what he thought he was doing. He responded
by saying matter-of-factly, "The old man said I could." Urban never
wasted anything—especially food. He was always content with what he
found to eat. He would not think twice about eating stale food. He was
also one to turn the lights off—no matter how dark it may be outside. He
spent years living in a small trailer in the Alaska Bush, no doubt,
eating very simple meals and preserving electricity.
Urban was a faithful priest. He was devoted to the celebration of the
divine office, daily Mass, the rosary and his private prayer. I often
found him in the chapel, sometimes kneeling (at the age of 87) before
the Blessed Sacrament. He was a servant: one could see that his energy
was oriented outward, toward others, as he visited the sick and the
homebound. He was generous, kind, patient and could laugh at himself. He
had a heart of bronze for charity. I never heard him say one
uncharitable thing about another person in the four years I knew him!
Furthermore, he was often bewildered by the lack of charity of others.
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Urban had a cheerful and happy demeanor. When he suffered, he just
shrugged it off as being a part of life. He would not complain of any
suffering unless asked by his superior. Then, he would be honest and
straightforward. Many people didn’t realize that by the end of his life,
only one of his five senses worked fully. Everyone knew he was deaf; but
most didn’t know that his eyesight was very poor and that he had lost
his sense of taste and smell. At home or on the road, he often sang or
whistled and made his characteristic noises. I once joked about his
noisemaking. He merely shrugged it off by exclaiming in a rising voice,
"A man’s got to do something to keep himself entertained!" During the
divine office, he sang with his booming voice—frequently off key—but
with a genuine passion and vigor.
Urban had a passion for Catholic Social Teaching. There are many who
speak of the Church’s teachings—yet who struggle to practice them. He
believed in Catholic Social Teaching and lived it. In this regard, Urban
was always a doer more than a thinker. In the 1950’s, he discovered the
Catholic Worker movement. While involved in the Catholic Worker, he met
Dorothy Day in Milwaukee and worked with her for a few years. He was
overjoyed when, years later, she came to St. Albert’s for a visit. As a
layman, he was a proponent of peace and a union organizer. During World
War II, he was a conscientious objector; yet, this did not stop him from
serving his country as a Navy medic in the South Pacific during the war.
He was one to read the newspaper from cover to cover, and was always
socially conscious of what was going on in society. He always exercised
his right and duty to vote. And if you got him talking about a social
issue in the Church or the world, he would get passionate, with his face
turning scarlet red and his deep voice growing louder and louder.
During his time in Alaska, he served Native Alaskans, the poor, the
homeless, the hopeless, the alcoholic and the underdog. He strived to
help the unemployed by protecting their rights. If he were to have
chosen a feast day, I have no doubt it would have been Labor Day,
because this day symbolized much of what he believed in. He was
completely devoted to those imprisoned. In his last years, he normally
celebrated four Masses a week for the incarcerated. They had a deep
respect and admiration for him and simply referred to him as "the Man."
In short, Fr. Urban served the "common man." As one parishioner of Holy
Family Cathedral noted, "he served the people that no one else would
help."
Recognizing his example of living Catholic Social Teaching, the
Archdiocese of Anchorage awarded him the first St. Francis of Assisi
Award for his imitation of St. Francis in how he served the poor and how
he was the face of Christ to others. When the Archdiocese first began to
solicit nominations for this award, Fr. Urban received more nominations
than the rest of the nominees combined.
He was the glue to whatever community he belonged. Even though he
often lived alone in different parts of Alaska, he was always connected
to the community. Whether it be Catholics, Protestants or non-believers,
he was one to visit people and to inquire about their well-being. He was
a "social animal" in that he was genuinely interested in people’s lives.
He kept neighbors linked together. He was always writing and staying
connected to his own siblings. In regard to his Dominican brothers, when
he vacationed, he often stayed at our houses on the West Coast. He was
prolific in his correspondence. I know there will be many people out
there wondering why he no longer writes.
Urban Francis Bates, OP is beloved by many. He has left a hole in the
lives of many by his death—not only because of the impression he made in
their lives, but because there is no one to replace him. In life, there
are people who take, take and take. Urban Bates gave, gave and gave. In
the end, his spirit continued to soar, but his body gave out. He had
given everything until there was nothing left to give. Then, like Jesus
on the Cross, he poured out his life: he spent himself—and the Lord took
him home.
- Fr. Joseph Sergott, OP
Fr. Bryan Kromholtz, OP
26 October, 2003
Fr. Urban died in the early morning on the memorial of
St. Peter Claver. Rosary and Wake will be Tuesday, September
16th, 7:30 PM. Funeral Mass will be Wednesday, September 17th,
10:00 AM.
Holy
Father Dominic, pray from him, that Urban may be made worthy of the
promises of Christ. May his soul and souls of the faithful
departed rest in peace. Amen.
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