Reunion Sept 10-12 2010 Houston,Texas

Was the reunion a success?  Stupid question!  Dick and Mary Ann Barry would not let it fail.  Just give them a few dozen Basilians, former Basilians and their spouses, and a very happy result is inevitable.  That the average age of the participants had risen over the past three years is hardly surprising and neither was an increase in the infirmities-per-person index.  Yet neither of these factors dimmed the enthusiasm and the high spirits of all those who came together once again.  This was not a pep rally for the Congregation of St. Basil.  It was a gathering of friends who obviously treasured their shared past.  The roles and histories of each within the Congregation were different, often very different.  But as each reflected on his own story, it became very obvious that the enrichment brought into each life by the Basilian experience was no linear function of the number of years spent under vows, with no bonus given for ordination nor any advantage gained for classroom over parish service.  Nor was there any hint of competition.  No one claimed to have gained more from his Basilian years than had anyone else.  High school and college reunions have always been notorious for their clashes of egos and their epic contests of one-upmanship.  There was not even a trace of that here.

On reflection, it’s rather remarkable that no one said even a word about what he had given to the Community.  For surely, community life could not have been the rich and enriching experience that it was unless most of the members of that group had given generously of themselves to make it that way.  Everyone spoke with sincere and humble gratitude for what the community had done for him.  No one spoke about what he had done for the community.  Perhaps that’s the key to why we keep coming back.  We savor the joy and the satisfaction of belonging to a fellowship that is characterized by a dedication to high ideals and a generosity of spirit in pursuing those ideals.   

The Basilian Fathers of today are such a group, just as they were back in the days when each of us felt drawn to join them.  They are good men, trying their best to lead principled lives and to hand on to others the values and the knowledge that they have come to cherish.  Did we leave all of this behind when we put aside the collar and the cassock?  Did we abandon goodness, discipline and knowledge as things to be treasured?  And the doce me.., the teaching, the ministering to the mind?  Is there any one of us who still today does not see teaching as one of the most noble callings that anyone can pursue?

When I left the Community I wrote myself off as a total failure.  There was very little to live for.  Three years later, marriage and the coming of family responsibilities did much to improve my outlook, but still my Basilian years were a dark burden of guilt, not a source of satisfaction.  When Bud Pare' issued the first call for a reunion of former Basilians my initial reaction was a firm rejection.  Had it not been for the wise advice and gentle persuasions of my wife, I never would have come.  But come I did, and for me it was a healing experience that I never could have anticipated.  To be with others who had weathered comparable traumas of separation and had emerged with healthy attitudes was proof positive that it could be done. To feel again the genuine friendship of the many Basilians who participated in that reunion and to see that I was accepted by them as part of their extended family was a delight still beyond my ability to put into words.  And each and every reunion since has confirmed my conviction that “once I was blind but now I see clearly”. 

So, yes, this reunion was a success.  There was great food, there was camaraderie, there were a many great stories recalled (some of them even based on real happenings) - everything that people hope for in a reunion.  But underlying it all, and lifting to a level far beyond what any gathering of college alumni can hope for, was a deep friendship forged by the unique shared experience of our Basilian years. 

Gratefully,

                    Ken Cashion