EXETER — To celebrate someone or something special, we sometimes shout “Hip-hip hooray” three times. At the end of a recent Mass at St. Kateri Tekakwitha Church, Bishop Bruce A. Lewandowski, C.Ss.R., asked for a slight alteration: “Gracias Amor.” Thank you, Love.
As a young missionary in New York City, the bishop explained, a woman working at his favorite bodega always called him “Amor.” Assuming she was flirting, he one day asked if she knew he was a priest. “Of course,” she answered. “I call you ‘Amor’ because, as a priest, you radiate the love of God.”
So, too, the bishop added, does the man that he and everyone else had come to celebrate that day. A man who originally aspired to nothing more than parish priesthood, but who wound up dedicating his life to a more unique cause.
A seminarian in Warwick by age 14, Gerard O. Sabourin studied later in Ottawa, Canada, before finally being ordained a priest of the Diocese of Providence and assigned to his hometown of Woonsocket. By then in his mid-20s and one of three curates serving under the pastor of St. Anne’s, Father Sabourin grew restless, having almost no responsibilities. Until one day in 1962, when an unexpected knock at the church’s door permanently redirected the trajectory of his life.
A woman stood before him. Could Father Sabourin help her sister, born with Down syndrome, make her First Communion? He could and did. Others who heard of this came asking Father Sabourin for similar assistance. He quickly realized the significant, unmet need throughout the Diocese of Providence, that people with various disabilities, both physical and mental, needed to be embraced more fully by the Church.
Father Sabourin approached then-Bishop Russell J. McVinney to insist that more be done for this special community. The bishop agreed, adding, “The job is yours.” Father Sabourin suddenly had a new salary, an office inside the chancery, plus oversight of a budget and several employees. “It was going to be a challenge for me,” he admitted during a recent conversation, “but I was ready for it.”
He began asking special education administrators across Rhode Island for introductions to Catholics in their programs, particularly those with severe disabilities, for whom he and his staff would provide religious education classes, First Communion, Confirmation, and more. Hundreds were housed at the Ladd School, an Exeter institution for people with mental and developmental disabilities, that operated from 1908-93.
“That volume of people,” he continued, “was really a challenge. Also, how do you talk to and teach religion to deaf people? At first, I didn’t know much, but I learned sign language, how to deal with the emotionally disturbed, how to work with the mentally disabled and others.”
Working almost unceasingly, he often sojourned at local parishes if pastors needed his particular expertise. That tireless effort has evolved into what we know today as the Special Religious Education Program (SPRED). His more than six decades of exceptional, selfless service to SPRED has earned Sabourin the honorific of Monsignor, granted as a special honor by popes.
“I did very little with the people one-on-one,” Msgr. Sabourin maintained, deflecting credit to his staff. “The joy I derived was, there was a need, and I met it. Of course, people were pleased to be close to God and talk to me about God, and that pleased me.”
His demure reflection sits in sharp contrast to that of people and their families who’ve benefitted from SPRED’s ongoing decades of influence. North Kingstown resident Lucie Rafferty Ross’ 48-year-old special-needs son, Shamus Rafferty, has known and worked with Monsignor Sabourin since age 7.
“When you lead a group, they follow,” Ross observed, “and Msgr. Sabourin just led with faith. He gave his life to this.”
When Ladd School closed, Msgr. Sabourin helped those displaced find new homes. Eighteen of them lived with him in Providence for a decade before the monsignor moved with four people with disabilities to bucolic Exeter and a diocesan-owned farmhouse with a sprawling property.
Msgr. Sabourin also invited Sister Antoinette Jacques, who had an advanced degree in special education, to join them. Together, the pair lived with and cared for those original four residents, as well as numerous others ever since.
Residents and a growing number of people with disabilities and their families wanted him to celebrate Mass for them at the house, but the only available space early on was in the living room or garage. The congregation needed a proper house of worship. So, they later built one on site, dedicating it to the Native American saint, Kateri Tekakwitha.
“No one feels like they don’t belong here,” remarked Ross. “My son has a very strong faith. He knows God loves him the way he is. The SPRED program works through symbolism, so the instructors are not up there preaching from a book. You’re using symbols and evoking human experiences.
“Shamus lost his father 18 years ago but still talks to him [in prayer]. He just has that firm belief that he’s in Heaven with Jesus … I really credit that with how this program works and how Monsignor makes everyone feel welcome.”
During his homily at the Mass of thanksgiving held Saturday, Sept. 20, Bishop Lewandowski cited words from the day’s Gospel passage, in which God says, “It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you.”
“The words jumped off the page for me,” said the bishop. “Often, we think Msgr. Sabourin chose this ministry of serving our brothers and sisters with special characteristics and unique needs. But God called you to this ministry. Why? Because you’re the loving face of Jesus … for them and for so many. Today, we thank you, Monsignor, for that one yes that you said so many decades ago to that family, and for the many yeses after that.”
Now 90, Msgr. Sabourin will retire to St. Antoine’s, a diocesan senior assisted living facility in North Smithfield. While his SPRED program continues in his absence, a tearful St. Kateri community has heavy hearts. “I don’t know,” added Ross, “if we’ll find something like that again.”
“When you retire,” the monsignor mused, “Where do you go? What do you do? I didn’t want to be alone. At St. Antoine’s, I’ll have my own room, but no responsibilities. Just to be with people. I’ll be available to them for advice or whatever. It’s a wonderful thing for me. I’d like to stay there another 10 years ... Then say goodbye to the world.”
A world, judging by its emotional outpouring, that does not seem ready to say goodbye to him.
