A Bishop for all seasons — Utah's former Catholic leader ready to retire

After returning to Idaho, the pope called him to shepherd the flock in Utah as bishop. "I had no roots there, but it turned out to be 13 of the best years of my life," he said, reflecting on other preparatory experiences, including fundraising and restoration for the Cathedral of the Madeleine.

While in Utah, he worked with top LDS Church leaders, including President Thomas S. Monson, with whom he continues to correspond. He had settled in, but Salt Lake City was just a taste of larger projects to lead.

When he was asked to become bishop of Sacramento, "it happened at the very time I was starting to have some real health problems again, yet I got transferred to a bigger job." Logically, "it made no sense," he said, but God has a way of defying logic. "It turned out to be a great blessing."

He had experience working with Hispanics but no background with Asians — and Filipinos in particular — who have come to be a large demographic within his diocese.

"But I learned, and it just became kind of a team effort. Lots of people helped, but I followed my nose in a sense. Spiritually, we call it discernment, or God leading us."

He felt pushed to restructure and overhaul many of the faith's existing programs and services, which was underscored by Pope John Paul II's call in January 2001 for Catholics to "roll up our sleeves and get back to work," after celebrating the beginning of the third Christian millennium.

"We decided to dust off the gospel and start with a new vitality," drawing on the input and work of 300 lay people and another hundred clergy as they revamped operations throughout the diocese.

"In our pastoral priorities, we stressed the need of being authentic spiritually," he said, noting the sex-abuse scandal that rocked the American church beginning in 2002 "helped us be very serious about that. It was clear evidence that not everything was good in our past, that we had to do better and avoid this type of thing in the future."

His diocese eventually paid out $35 million to settle 33 abuse claims. It was the darkest chapter of his ministry. Some criticized him for not ferreting out offenders, while others lauded his courage in calling for abuse victims to come forward and dealing with the revelations head-on.

With the perspective of time, he said the episode has "had a healthy effect of showing our shadow side and what human weakness, even for Christians, can lead to. It gave some real seriousness to our attempts to be authentic, to have all of our systems as transparent as possible, with all the proper checks and balances at all levels."

"As painful and embarrassing as it was, it has brought some good out. I think we're better for it."