Sister Clare Cecilia Rapp, C.S.J., a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph, Brentwood, for 55 years, died Jan. 6 at Calvary Hospital at Lutheran Medical Center, Sunset Park, after a three-year battle with cancer. She was 73.
Born Clara Barbara, she entered the congregation from Our Holy Redeemer parish, Freeport. She received the religious name Clare Cecilia, an indication that she was destined for a ministry in music.
After earning bachelor’s degrees in education from Brentwood College and music education from Nazareth College, she pursued a master’s degree in music education in Potsdam and one in Latin from Mount St. Vincent.
Her ministries were mainly in the Brooklyn Diocese. She served at Mary’s Nativity, Flushing, 1961-69; St. Agnes Seminary H.S., Flatbush, 1969-73; Bishop Kearney H.S., Bensonhurst, 1973-81, and 1990-97; Fontbonne Hall Academy, Bay Ridge, 1981-1985; as assistant principal at Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Sunset Park, 1985-90; and as academic counselor and later assistant principal at St. Joseph H.S., Downtown Brooklyn, 1997-2011.
She was a gifted master of five instruments – piano, organ, violin, drums and recorder; an alto with a rich voice; and a conductor who could lead a chorus of high school students or parish children with great skill and success.
A Mass of Christian burial was held in St. Francis Xavier Church, Park Slope, Jan. 9. Her longtime friend, Sister Dolores F. Crepeau, C.S.J., principal of Fontbonne Hall Academy, delivered a reflection.
Interment followed in Calvary Cemetery, Brentwood.
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Former Archbishop Robert F. Sanchez, a pioneer in Hispanic ministry who later resigned in disgrace when several women accused him of having abused them as adults, died Jan. 20 at age 77.
His death was announced by Archbishop Michael J. Sheehan of Santa Fe, who said he died at noon in Albuquerque “surrounded by his family.”
“Archbishop Sanchez was much loved as a native son by the people of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe,” Archbishop Sheehan said. “He was respected by his brother bishops and looked up to by his priests. We continue to acknowledge the good he did during his episcopacy, are well aware of his human failings and mourn his death today.”
Archbishop Sanchez headed the Santa Fe Archdiocese from July 25, 1974, until Pope John Paul II accepted his resignation on April 6, 1993. He was the first U.S.-born Hispanic archbishop and widely regarded as a leader in the awakening of U.S. Hispanic Catholic cultural consciousness in the late 20th century.
When news began to surface about the scandal that would eventually lead to his resignation, Archbishop Sanchez issued a statement saying he “always tried never to be the cause of harm or disappointment to anyone, and yet today I must say, ‘I’m sorry.’”
The Albuquerque Journal reported that the former archbishop lived for many years at a Franciscan monastery on Albuquerque’s West Side after his resignation. In early 2011, he moved to a facility for the care of patients with Alzheimer’s disease, the newspaper reported.
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Joe Paterno, a native of Brooklyn and graduate of Brooklyn Prep who went on to become a college football coaching legend, died Jan. 22 at Mount Nittany Medical Center in State College, Pa.
Just 10 weeks ago it was announced that he was suffering from lung cancer. That statement came nine days after Paterno’s 61-year career at Penn State University was terminated in the wake of the Jerry Sandusky child sex abuse scandal.
He will be remembered as “a legend throughout our region and throughout our country,” said Altoona-Johnstown Bishop Mark L. Bartchak, who added the iconic football coach will be best remembered in the diocese as “a good Catholic, a family man and a friend to many.”
For all who knew and loved Sister Clare Cecilia, C.S.J., here is the aforementioned reflection on her life, which was written, delivered and printed here with permission by her best friend, Sister Dolores F. Crepeau, C.S.J.:
There are those who have said that when life ends – stories are left unfinished. Threads are left unwoven, and songs unsung … For those of us who have been left to continue our journey without the brilliant presence of Clare in our lives, it certainly feels that way. Who among us has not had that special Clare moment. Who among us would not wish that we had the opportunity to finish that story, to have one more laugh, one more time to just have fun together.
If we really think about the life of Clare, we realize that it is less like a broken thread and more like a golden circle.
From her very birth – Clare was a special gift to her parents and everyone she met. She always responded to the life she was given with joy. It was impossible not to be drawn into her circle. The nature of her character was unmistakable. When the time came to enlist helpers for her chemo and radiation treatment days last summer, some of the first to answer the call were her classmates from Sacred Heart Academy. They remembered the gift Clare was back then and wanted to help her during this part of her final journey.
As a Sister of Saint Joseph, Clara Barbara Rapp became Sister Clare Cecilia, an indication that she was destined for a ministry in music. Music was essential to Clare’s being: she was a gifted master of five instruments, an alto with a rich voice and a conductor who could lead a chorus of talented high school students or parish children with great skill and success.
Everywhere she went, Clare would meet someone with whom she had shared her music. In the recovery room at Sloan Kettering after her last surgery, we found that her nurse had been in Clare’s glee club at Bishop Kearney. Even at such a fearful time, filled with physical suffering and emotional pain, Clare received a sign that lives that she had touched had also been drawn into caring service just like her.
Music was not just something that Clare “did” at rehearsals or on Sundays. It poured out of her very soul. During her last hospitalization, she was visited by the music therapist who introduced her to a wonderful instrument called a Wing. Aptly named, this instrument produced wonderful tones which could create harmony and peace in the hearts of anyone fortunate enough to hear her play. Gifted with her own Wing instrument, she shared that beauty with others during her last days at Calvary and helped many people feel peace in their souls.
Clare’s ability to touch the lives of everyone around her was one of her special gifts. Her students saw in her a model and an example of a life lived in deep Faith and enthusiasm. Her colleagues recognized her remarkable intelligence and wonderful ability to draw order out of any situation. We who lived with Clare knew her as the singular most organized person who has ever walked on Earth.
Clare loved her family deeply. The sudden loss of her dad made close ties even more important. She rejoiced when her family from Germany was able to join her here for her Jubilee, and loved her own trips back to Germany. She was so proud of her family, and loved her heritage. They, in turn, loved her, keeping in touch by telephone, e-mail, and making a final, loving visit to Brooklyn to say goodbye, just a few weeks ago.
Clare was meant to be part of a huge family. What the family tree did not provide here in the U.S., she adopted. When everyone went “home for the holidays,” Clare travelled with me to my home. She became an integral part of my family, beloved by my sister, brother-in-law, and my nieces.
I am certain that Clare has already brought her spirit of adventure and her willingness to face a challenge on any front to heaven. When she first learned of her cancer, she was warned three years ago that her prognosis was guarded. Regardless, she decided that she would fight. From May, 2009, until October, 2011, she endured 73 radiation treatments, 12 rounds of chemotherapy, and three long surgeries – the last of which went on for almost an entire day.
Warned that she might never speak again – Clare spoke. Warned that she might never have the use of her arm again – Clare played her music. Warned that she might survive for only the briefest of time – Clare went back to work at St. Joseph’s, Bridge Street, went on vacation and retreat with (Sister) Helene and me, and went home to visit her family in Germany. How very brave she was.
During the last three years, we prayed together every night for strength, and for a miracle. Clare did not get her miracle, but her life of Faith and goodness, joy in her Sisters and her friends, pride in her students, and love for God’s creation – this was Clare’s miracle. On a day when she was so ill she could barely speak, she looked at a picture of an amaryllis in full bloom, and glancing up to heaven, she whispered, “Thanks for the beauty.”
And on this day, Clara, when we accompany you to your final resting place, free of pain and suffering, and confident in your place with God, we too can look up to heaven and say of your life, “Thanks for the beauty.”