9 minute read
The Making of a Bishop
Bishop Dennis Walsh, a native son and priest of the Diocese of Toledo, is the newly installed Bishop of Davenport, Iowa
BY ANNIE LUST
As he prayed the Eucharistic prayer during his Ordination and Installation Mass, Bishop Dennis Walsh’s voice was strong and steady, echoing through Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport, Iowa. The words were familiar, “Together with your servant, Francis our Pope…” Suddenly, he faltered. The next line, of course, names the Bishop of the Diocese. At his elbow, Bishop Daniel E. Thomas whispered, prompting Bishop Walsh with the next words. “And me, your unworthy servant,” he said before continuing without a hitch. “It’s pretty embarrassing to forget the name of the Bishop of the Diocese, and then Bishop Thomas had to remind me that the Bishop is me,” Bishop Walsh later said with a laugh. That moment of wonderment that he was the bishop was characteristic of Bishop Dennis Walsh. He is a humble, gentle introvert with a dry sense of humor. He never imagined himself wearing a mitre. He never imagined shepherding the people of an entire diocese. He never imagined that he would be named Bishop of the Diocese of Davenport.
FAITHFUL FAMILY
Bishop Walsh’s childhood in northwest Ohio was simple. The five member Walsh family lived in a cozy home on the north end of Lima. Brenda Walsh, Bishop Walsh’s older sister, fondly recalls the neighborhood children playing in the woods behind their house. Even then, there were hints of Bishop Walsh’s future. While the children played like it was the “olden days,” young Dennis was always designated to be in charge of their imaginary church. “He has always wanted to be a priest from the time he was little,” Brenda said. Undoubtedly, his parents’ steadfast faith made an impression on Dennis. Daniel and Marilyn chose the middle name Gerard for their son, after the patron of their neighborhood parish, to whom Daniel was greatly devoted. They were dedicated to their parish, as well. “We never missed Mass,” Bishop Walsh explained. Even the infamous blizzard of 1978, when the obligation to attend Mass was dispensed, did not keep the Walsh family from Mass. They pulled into the parking lot at St. Gerard, and their trunk was weighed down with firewood to prevent sliding. “I think we were just about the only ones there,” he recalled with a broad smile.
REDEMPTORIST INFLUENCE
The Walsh’s parish, St. Gerard in Lima, was established in 1916 by the Redemptorists who continue to run the parish even today. As a young teenager, Dennis told his pastor that he was considering the priesthood. “He put me in contact with the Redemptorist Vocations Director, naturally,” Bishop Walsh explained. With a laugh, he admitted, “To be honest, I’m not sure I even knew what a diocesan priest was because every priest I knew was a Redemptorist!” After a visit to the Redemptorist High School Seminary in Pennsylvania, Dennis was convinced he wanted to attend. His parents had other plans. “They said ‘Absolutely not. You’re only in ninth grade. You’re not leaving home,’” he recalled. They fully supported his call to the priesthood but insisted he wait until graduating high school to leave home for seminary. So, in 1983, eighteen year old Dennis moved to Connecticut to attend the Redemptorist College to begin his nine year formation.
NEW WORLDS
By the mid-90s, Dennis’ horizons had broadened exponentially. Throughout seminary, he served in inner-city areas on the East Coast, a Caribbean island and the Dominican Republic. “It was a great experience for me,” he said, noting the diversity in race, culture and socioeconomic background that his Midwest upbringing lacked. After ordination, his first assignments were no less diverse. Father Walsh served on Saint Croix Island, in Puerto Rico, in Baltimore, and finally, in the South Bronx of New York City. While he was grateful for the experiences, they took a toll on him. By 1998, he yearned to return to his roots. “I wrote a letter to Bishop Hoffman expressing my interest in coming to the Diocese of Toledo, so the Redemportists sent me there on loan,” Bishop Walsh explained.
HOMECOMING
Being back in the Midwest was a balm for Father Walsh’s soul. After two years, Bishop Hoffman and Father Walsh agreed to make the change permanent. Father Dennis Walsh was incardinated into the Diocese of Toledo as a Diocesan priest in 2000. Over the next two decades, Father Walsh served across Northwest Ohio, first at St. Mary in Sandusky, followed by St. John the Evangelist in Defiance and St. Patrick of Heatherdowns in Toledo before his most recent assignment brought him closer to home than he had been in more than 30 years. Being sent to St. John the Evangelist in Delphos, St. John the Baptist in Landeck, and, one year later, also to St. Patrick in Spencerville was as close to home as Bishop Walsh could have dreamed. “I [was] 20 minutes from home,” Bishop Walsh said. “I have family in Delphos, family in Landeck.” He even had family in the parish office when his sister, Brenda, joined the staff. When his father died in 2019, Father Walsh was nearby. In the years since, the short distance allowed Father Walsh to spend precious time with his mother: “On my day off, I would shoot home to see mom or pick her up for a nearby parish festival,” Bishop Walsh said.” Overall, his time at these parishes was a dream come true.
SURPRISE OF A LIFETIME
On the second Sunday of June, Father Walsh was waiting for a long-distance phone call. He’d had a busy morning — First Communion, celebrating a Mass in Spanish — and was perhaps distracted when his phone finally rang. Hearing an accent, Bishop Walsh mistook this unexpected call for the one he was anticipating. “I said, ‘Oh yes, I’ve been waiting for your call!’ and [the caller] responded, ‘No, no. This is the Nuncio,’ Bishop Walsh recounted. Those words were enough. “There’s only one reason the Nuncio would be calling me,” he said. Of course, the Nuncio — the Holy Father’s representative to the United States — shares life-changing information, such as being appointed the Bishop of Davenport. “It was the shock of a lifetime,” Bishop Walsh explained. Despite his surprise, he did not hesitate. “I made the decision early in my priesthood that I would do whatever the Church asked me to do.” Bishop Walsh solemnly promised to keep the news secret until the official announcement weeks later with one exception: “I asked if I could tell my mom,” he said.
GOOD SHEPHERD
Before the sun rose in Davenport on June 25, 2024, reporters and cameras were poised and ready for the press conference to announce to the 10th Bishop of Davenport. Bishop Dennis Walsh was also there, having surreptitiously arrived the night prior.Four minutes into the press conference, Bishop Walsh took his place before the microphones: “I promise to be a shepherd who listens and leads with humility. I consider myself fortunate tohave been entrusted with the pastoral care of the people of this diocese. I’m deeply humbled by the confidence and the great responsibility that the Holy Father has placed upon me.” Four hundred miles away, Bishop Walsh’s family, friends and parishioners were waking to the news. Many took to social media to praise Bishop Walsh’s kindness, gentleness, wisdom and humility. Many others congratulated Bishop Walsh directly. For Bishop Walsh’s sister, Brenda, it was a momentary surprise that quickly made sense. “He is a very obedient priest and also the smartest man I know,” she said simply. On September 27, 2024, Brenda was in the first row beside her mother to watch as the newly ordained Bishop Dennis Walsh adjusted his mitre, gripped his crozier and smiled at them. “Being a priest has been the greatest joy of my life. I have cherished every moment. I thank God for the gift and the privilege of this vocation. As I embrace this new ministry to which I have been called, I anticipate experiencing that same profound joy [as a bishop],” he said.
COAT OF ARMS DESCRIPTION:
The Bishop’s personal coat of arms (right side) employs the colors of the arms of his home Diocese of Toledo: blue (azure), silver (argent) and red (gules). On the center silver stripe (called a pale) appears a slightly narrower red stripe drawn with points at the bottom (indented). This stripe represents the Oriflamme, the battle standard borne by the King of France from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries. In peacetime, the Oriflamme was kept in the Abbey of Saint Denis in Paris, and according to legend its red color came from its being soaked in the blood of the bishop Saint Denis –Bishop Walsh’s baptismal patron saint – when the saint was martyred in Paris around the year 250.
