An Interview with Fr. James Halstead, OSA

At the 10:30 Mass this Sunday, February 9, our parish will celebrate Fr. James "Jim" Halstead, OSA, and his life, love, ministry, and dedication. Cards (no gifts) are welcome; they can be dropped off at the Mass or sent to the parish office (Fr. Jim Halstead c/o St. John XXIII Parish, 806 Ridge Ave, Evanston, IL 60202), where they will be collected and delivered to Fr. Jim. We are also creating a video montage as a tribute to Fr. Jim. If you would like to contribute a short video of no more than two minutes, please click HERE and follow the instructions on the website. The deadline to submit a video is February 15.

(Click HERE to read Fr. Bob Oldershaw's homily from the Mass on February 9 honoring Fr. Jim.)

Recently, Fr. Jim (JH) sat with parishioner Sara Burson (SB), shared memories of his childhood, his life as an Augustinian, and his ministry at St. John XXIII Parish and the legacy St. Nicholas Parish.

SB: Is there anything you would like to share about your childhood?
JH: I spent my early childhood in Flint, Michigan, an industrial town. Later, we moved to Grand Blanc which, at that time, was a small town outside Flint, 90 minutes north of Detroit. I had a lot of fun in a sheltered childhood with my two sisters, protected by my loving parents. We spent summers in the northern part of the lower peninsula of Michigan, where I discovered the majesty, grandeur, and mystery of nature. The sky was pitch black at night, with all the stars visible. Being a bit of a nerd, I wondered, “What is light and what is darkness?” My imagination was sparked by Lake George as well as the sky. I remember watching the fish and wondering, “What is the consciousness of a fish?” Those summers spent out of the city and in nature were magnificent.

SB: What drew you to the priesthood? And why the Augustinians?
Most Catholic boys growing up in the 1950s and 60s considered the priesthood. I lost interest in middle and high school. I struggled to reconcile what I was learning in science and religion classes and what I was questioning privately. But I was always intrigued by ritual. The Tridentine Latin Mass was mystifying—in a good way. During my 1966 high school retreat, I went to Confession. My penance was to consider becoming an Augustinian. And so I did. When the Augustinians invited me to enter their novitiate after high school, I said OK. Why? Not so much because I was drawn to it, but it meant I didn’t have to figure out what other path to take! I didn’t particularly like school, so college held little appeal. Nor did I want to go to Vietnam. A year on the farm in the Augustinian novitiate was a way to “kick the can down the road.” And since the vocation director did the application paperwork, going to the novitiate was the easiest thing to do.

SB. So you could say you sort of backed into the priesthood?
JH: Yes (laughter)

SB: Some of your education was in Belgium. Why? Do all Augustinians study there?
JH: I did undergraduate work and first graduate studies in Chicago at the Catholic Theological Union (CTU). (Strange--decades later I chaired the Board of Trustees of CTU.) Unbeknownst to me, my teachers at CTU told my religious superior to have me pursue a doctorate. They hoped I would return to teach at CTU.

​I was ordained in 1976. I thoroughly enjoyed parish life for the next four years at two St. Clare of Montefalco parishes, one in Chicago, the other in Detroit. In year three I was told to find a doctoral school and apply. I reluctantly obeyed.

From 1980-1986, I studied religion and theology at Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, Belgium. I earned three degrees: an STL (License in Sacred Theology), PhD in Religious Studies, and an STD (Doctor of Sacred Theology). I chose Leuven for three reasons: 1) The theologians I studied and most admired at CTU were all trained in Europe; 2) Wanderlust lingered from my boyhood fascination with Europe and Flemish architecture; and 3) I wanted to experience the world and education outside of the United States. In Leuven, I finally resolved the conflict between science and religion that had bothered me earlier. Critical thought and theology, science and religion, medicine and religion, modern life and traditional religion—they can all work together.

To earn money and pay for my education while in Europe, I served as a priest for hire, doing sacramental work at American Air Force and Army bases in southwest Germany. I also served as interim pastor at an international parish in The Hague, The Parish of Our Saviour (British spelling). Combining academia during the week and pastoral life on the weekend led me to a preaching style characterized by respect for Scripture and tradition, careful thought, and a rhetoric that invited Catholics to discuss issues. Reflection on my own maturation and four years in parish work taught me that trying to dictate a specific way of thinking, praying, and acting was hopeless.

An example: while at The Hague, Americans installed nuclear-tipped cruise missiles in Europe. We all assumed targets included population centers as well as military installations. The American bishops had written a pastoral letter on nuclear weapons. The Dutch were in the streets, demonstrating. Parishioners in the international parish were military leaders, diplomats, civilian contractors, jurists of the World Court, spies, some business persons, and international students. I preached about cruise missiles with nuclear warheads, the bishops’ letter, and our various responses. I didn’t argue in favor or against installation or targeting. I wanted conversation. I wanted all of us to acknowledge and address the multiple moral dilemmas the missiles presented in the light of the Gospels. Interestingly, Americans in the parish tended to have their hackles up and shied away from the discussions. Europeans and Asians wanted to talk.

SB: What came next?
JH: I returned to the States in January 1987, and taught part-time at the Institute for Pastoral Studies at Loyola University while looking for a full-time job. In 1988, DePaul University posted a position in Ritual Studies. Although that was not really my area, DePaul hired me. I began in the fall of 1988 and remained on the faculty until my retirement in June 2019. In retirement, I returned to part-time teaching until illness forced my permanent retirement in December 2023.

SB: What brought you to St. Nicholas/St John XXIII?
JH: In 1972, while at CTU, I first met Bob Oldershaw, then associate pastor at St. Thomas the Apostle Parish. I witnessed him leading a parish in singing. I had never seen anything like this before. This was Vatican II! Fr. Bob was putting into action what I was learning at CTU. In 1993, Bob was looking for weekend presiders. The music director Diana Kodner recommended me. (We had worked together at Loyola.) I started at St. Nick’s in August 1993.

SB: When did you move into the rectory at St. Nicholas and how long did you live there?
JH: I finished my term as Prior at the St. John Stone Friary in Hyde Park in the summer of 1995 and needed to move out so the new Prior could take over. Coincidentally, Fr. Jim Kastigar had just left St. Nicholas for another assignment. Fr. Bob was alone in the rectory and invited me to join him. I moved in that fall and stayed until January 1, 2000, when I took the opportunity to have financial responsibility and independence.

Entering religious life at age 18, I missed a few things growing up. In mid-life, I felt a need to be on my own financially--managing a mortgage, paying my own bills, and dealing with taxes. To be honest, the Provincial thought I was a little crazy, but he rolled his eyes and approved my proposal. I bought a two-flat with a fellow Augustinian priest, which we fixed up and where I lived for 12 years. I thrived there and stayed until the priest in the other apartment left the priesthood. I rented out his apartment for a time, but I learned that I did not like being a landlord! So I sold the building and moved to my current hermitage. I love eremitic life--and being a renter.

SB: What involvement did you have in our parish? What are some highlights from your time with us?
JH: I celebrated sacraments. I presided at weddings and funerals, heard confessions, anointed the sick, and regularly celebrated Sunday Mass. Weekday life in the classroom and weekend parish work enriched each other. During the week, I read and taught about religion, religious traditions, and religious communities. On the weekend, I got to experience it.

In my early times at St. Nick's and after the church was renovated, I recall spending time in the choir loft observing Fr. Bob, watching how he did liturgy. Bob can improvise, dance, clap, recite poetry, and walk into a baptismal font. I can’t. I knew I had to find my own way, but I learned by observing him.

I loved working with wonderful, talented, and committed liturgical musicians.

Preaching at Sunday Mass was both terrifying and enriching. I remember thinking, “I have to preach to these people, people who are deeply invested in religious life and Catholic liturgy.”

I came to appreciate deeply the role of the assembly. Theoretically, when the People of God gather for Eucharist, especially at the altar during the Eucharistic prayer, we embody, incarnate, the Risen Christ. The community at St. Nicholas/St. Mary enfleshed that theory and helped me develop my sense of what the priesthood should be and is. I do not do “priest-craft.” I have a role, presbyter/presider, and lead within a Eucharistic Assembly. I/the priest don’t know everything, nor do I/we need to. Nor do I/we need to do everything. I/we need to trust people and believe they will come through.

I have a favorite photo of me at Mass—May 2019, the day after First Communion. A whole group of us are gathered around the Table/Altar for the Eucharistic Prayer. We are all praying the prayer, and a little boy is directly in front of me as I elevate the Elements for the Great Amen. That little boy stands as an initiated member of the community in the folds of the vestment. He is overshadowed by Jesus Christ. The photo is a visual representation of who we, the Church, have been, are, and will be.

Fr. Jim's favorite photo of himself at Mass. "The photo is a visual representation of who we, the Church, have been, are, and will be." (Click to enlarge)

There is also a photo of a baptism at Mass. We had all poured water and said the words of baptism. In the photo, parents, godparents, and family are holding the baby in the foreground. The community is in back of them. I am further back, overseeing the group from behind having poured water, anointed, and blessed. The family and community are in the foreground providing the baby with welcome, love, care, and guidance in Catholic faith. I am in the background providing witness, guidance, and guardrails.

Another of Fr. Jim's favorite photos. "The family and community are in the foreground providing the baby with welcome, love, care, and guidance in the Catholic faith. I am in the background providing witness, guidance, and guardrails." (Click to enlarge)

Another story: by Fall 2018, I had been a member of St. Nicholas Parish for 25 years. A man came to Confession. He was weary. (Years with a wife in dialysis wears a guy out.) He said his wife needed a kidney. No family member could donate. As we sat in the Reconciliation Room, I felt something (immediately? -- like the first disciples?). Kidney donation was a no-brainer. A 25-year involvement in this community moved me to share a kidney. In this crazy, polarized, often selfish, sometimes mean-spirited, sinful world, here was I—an old, white man—donating a kidney to a Filipino woman married to a black man who is Buddhist and a regular at St. Nick's. This is St. Nicholas/St. John XXIII Parish!!! (That was 6 years ago. I am just now beginning to understand that time and enjoy the unique bond I share with that family.)

Last December, Gaudete Sunday, I felt the trust and support of the community when I presided at my last Sunday Mass. That Sunday morning I felt especially weak. I had difficulty moving, shaving, and showering. I was not able to stand at the Table/Altar or hold the Eucharistic Elements. Knowing the St. John XXIII community on St. Nicholas Campus, I trusted they would accept and embrace my presiding while sitting in a chair, and would also accept and trust Chris Murphy holding the bread and wine during the Institution Narrative and the Great Amen. Rubrically, a bit irregular. In the situation and with my limits, proper. This is St. John XXIII Parish.

Fr. Jim's third favorite photo of himself at St. John XXIII Parish, taken in January 2024. It shows the support and tender care of a young man towards and old man, a "pro-reign of God image." (Click to enlarge)

SB: What now?
JH: I have one public responsibility remaining. Until June 2026, I am Treasurer of the Augustinian Province of Our Mother of Good Counsel.

Like Martha in the Gospel, I have been very busy since 1976—teaching, serving the Augustinian Midwest Province, and helping at St. Nicks/St. John XXIII. It has all been very satisfying. The challenge for me right now is to be more like Mary. As I read cards, letters and notes from the past—wrapped in the prayer shawl I was given a couple years ago—I am challenged to embrace the appreciation, affection, and love many people have for me. At this stage in my life, I think the Divine One wants me to learn that I am forgiven and loved. ALS gives me time to reflect. My work/ministry was respected and appreciated, and I am valued and loved.