I learned many jokes from the late Bishop Nikol Cauchi.
This may seem as an inept introductory sentence for a piece commemorating a bishop. However, I think the opposite is true; it is most appropriate. Mgr Cauchi’s joke-cracking ability was a worthy and dignified episcopal activity, as it was a sign of his great humane disposition.
In a world marked by so much suffering and hardship, the ability to bring a smile to people’s faces should be a precondition for anyone appointed to the ministry of a bishop. Mgr Cauchi cracked jokes to break the ice with people he met, to ease tension during controversial meetings, or just for the sake of it.
I remember very tense meetings at the Curia during the troubled years of the early to mid-1980s. The issues discussed tended to get too hot at times – and this is an understatement.
Mgr Cauchi came to everybody’s rescue with his jokes. Everyone laughed, and sanity returned to the discussion towards which he then contributed actively and effectively.
He was an intelligent man who did whatever he did in the best manner possible, but never took himself too seriously. He used to describe himself as “just a backbencher of the Episcopal Conference”.
His communication skills were superb. Mgr Cauchi was both a gifted writer and an effective speaker. His writings prove the former while his homilies and radio programmes prove the latter.
He was part of the furniture of RTK from its very beginning; after all, he had an important part in its setting up. In 1991, the Prime Minister had given a radio broadcasting licence to the Archbishop for the Church’s use.
We wanted a station owned by both the Malta and the Gozo dioceses. The first meeting with the Gozo diocese, held in the absence of Mgr Cauchi, ended in almost complete disagreement. We met him the following day and positively concluded all business to the satisfaction of both sides.
His phone-in programmes on RTK were very popular. Mgr Cauchi had the rare skill of explaining complex concepts in simple words without denuding these concepts of their depth.
He managed to deal quite well with irritant callers as well as the inquisitive, troubled or simple ones. I remember a woman telling him on air that her eight-year-old child had a puppy and wanted to take a photo with Mgr Cauchi. “I do not mind,” he said, “but did you check whether the puppy minds?”
His life was not all smiles. Mgr Cauchi had the onerous task of translating the Vatican II theology and mentality to his diocese. Traditions tend to die hard, and those entrusted with their removal have to pay a dear price.
Mgr Cauchi paid that price, which had the value-added burden of rampant parochialism. He soldiered on, doing little and not-so-little reforms.
His strategy to renovate the clergy was as simple as it was effective. He asked newly ordained priests to spend some time in overseas dioceses. This proved to be a very valid contribution to those dioceses, while it exposed the Gozitan priests to new and different mentalities which helped mature them and broaden their outlook.
However, the image I prefer to treasure is that of his smiling face spreading happiness. I am certain that in the house of our Heavenly Father he has already made his mark as the newcomer who makes people smile. Our loss is heaven’s gain.
joseph.borg@um.edu.mt