beovich sm.jpg
Date of Birth: 01/04/1896
Date of Death: 24/10/1981
Date of Ordination: 23/12/1922
Date of Installation: 07/04/1940

Archbishop Matthew Beovich

Biography:

Early life and ordination

Matthew Beovich was born on April 1, 1896 at Carlton, Melbourne, the second of four children of Mate Beovic (1861-1933) and his wife Elizabeth, née Kenny (1864-1949).[1]  Mate earned a living as a fruiterer with a stall in the Queen Victoria Market. The family home was on Sydney Road in the working-class suburb of Coburg. In 1909 the Christian Brothers gave Matt, as he was known to family and friends, a scholarship to study at St Joseph’s College, North Melbourne. From 1912 to 1917 he worked as a clerk in the Postmaster-General’s Department, continuing his studies at night until he matriculated in 1913. In 1917 he travelled to Rome to undertake formation for the priesthood at the Urban College of Propaganda Fide. He qualified for the degrees of Doctor of Philosophy (1919) and Doctor of Divinity (1923). On December 23, 1922 he was ordained to the priesthood in the Basilica of St John Lateran.

Melbourne ministry

Returning to Melbourne in 1923, Matthew Beovich served less than six months as assistant-priest in the parish of North Fitzroy before being appointed Diocesan Inspector of Religious Instruction for the Archdiocese of Melbourne. In 1932 he established a central office to coordinate the Catholic education system and to liaise with the state education department. He was initially known as the Deputy Director of Catholic Education, Archbishop Mannix being, in theory, the director. Beovich soon assumed the title of director, as Mannix had little direct involvement in the Catholic Education Office. He oversaw the production of a revised catechism (1938) and also wrote Companion to the Catechism (1939). From 1924 to 1933 he was the secretary/editor of the Australian Catholic Truth Society, and from 1932 to 1939 he was a regular speaker on the radio program “Catholic Hour”.

Appointment to Adelaide

 On December 12, 1939, Matthew Beovich heard that he had been appointed archbishop of Adelaide. His episcopal ordination took place in St Francis Xavier Cathedral on April 7, 1940. The apostolic delegate, John Panico, was the principal celebrant, assisted by Beovich’s former Propaganda classmates, Norman Gilroy, archbishop of Sydney, and James O’Collins, bishop of Geraldton (later Ballarat). Beovich governed the Archdiocese of Adelaide for the following three decades. He retired on May 1, 1971, taking the title Former Archbishop of Adelaide. After a short illness, he died in Calvary Hospital, North Adelaide, on October 24, 1981 and was buried at West Terrace Cemetery.

Matthew Beovich’s appointment to Adelaide was hailed as the beginning of a new era because he was the first Archbishop of Adelaide who had been born in Australia rather than Ireland.[2]  Other Australian dioceses also received their first Australian-born bishops in the 1930s, but they at least bore names which reflected their Irish ancestry. In Beovich’s case, the Croatian surname is somewhat deceptive. While Mate Beovic came from the island of Bra─Ź off the Dalmatian coast, Elizabeth Kenny’s parents emigrated to Australia from County Clare in Ireland. All the remaining evidence points to Elizabeth as the dominant influence on her son’s early life. Responding to a toast in his honour in 1923, when he returned to Melbourne as a newly ordained priest, Beovich declared that “whatever honours he had won, credit was due in the first place to his mother, who, in silence and alone, had tried to mould his character”.[3]

Formative spirituality 

From his deeply pious mother, Beovich learnt how to interpret all that happened in his life, no matter how unpleasant, through the lens of faith in an omnipotent God. Sport-loving and relatively youthful teachers modelled how a “vigorous type of manly man” could participate in the traditional devotional practices which were so prominent in the Irish-Australian church of early 20th Century.[4]  Beovich grew to adulthood immersed in an almost self-enclosed Catholic sub-culture of pious sodalities, clubs and associations. His religion was a religion of the law and of the heart, of weekly confession of sin and attendance at Mass, of praying the Rosary and litanies of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, of cultivating humility, charity and acceptance of God’s will. Very early in life he discovered “the little way” of Thérèse of Lisieux, an approach to God based on the conviction that, like a loving father, God would be pleased with even the smallest of efforts and sacrifices of one of his children, provided they were offered in a spirit of love. The simple piety which the young Matt Beovich absorbed in his childhood remained with him throughout his life. 

Beovich’s clerical studies in Rome did little to expand his theological beliefs, but left him with a firm attachment to the city of Rome as “the centre of Christendom” and an intense loyalty to its bishop, the vicar of Christ. As a priest back in Melbourne, he devoted himself to developing and better coordinating the Catholic education system, and to improving the way traditional religious beliefs were taught in Catholic schools. This involved a moderate amount of bureaucratic centralisation for which Beovich utilised the authority of his archbishop. His own cryptic description of his work was that he “carried Archbishop Mannix’s bag”.[5]  Yet he did not become a Mannix clone. When appointed archbishop of Adelaide, he developed a different episcopal style from that of the redoubtable Archbishop of Melbourne, who tended to act like an Irish tribal leader.   

Model Tridentine bishop

Conscientious, devout and hard-working, in many respects Beovich was a model Tridentine bishop. In his diocesan administration, he faithfully fulfilled the requirements of the 16th Century Council of Trent and the 1917 Code of Canon Law. He took very seriously his obligation to preach the faith and foster prayer, speaking at innumerable liturgies and functions and consciously striving to shape the religious culture of his diocese. In 1981, Philip Kennedy, auxiliary bishop of Adelaide, claimed that Beovich’s “goal was holiness of life; his own holiness and that of every other person. . . it was a goal he pursued with fierce consistency”.[6]  Characteristically, Beovich’s definition of holiness stressed the importance of “faith, hope, charity, humility and submission to the will of God. Nothing less is sufficient in a Christian; nothing more is required in a saint.”[7]   

Beovich’s first decade as Archbishop of Adelaide illustrates the important role a bishop can play in initiating change in his diocese. Three days after his consecration in 1940, he began planning the construction of St Francis Xavier Seminary. By the end of the decade, as priests emerged from the seminary, it was no longer necessary to import men from Ireland. Two-thirds of the Adelaide diocesan clergy in 1940 had been born and ordained in Ireland, only one-third in Australia. By the time Beovich retired, the percentages were reversed. As he had done in Melbourne, Beovich better coordinated Catholic schools and established a Catholic education office. He also reorganised Catholic orphanages and set up a Catholic welfare bureau. He inaugurated Catholic Action movements, encouraging lay people to take more responsibility for the propagation of the faith. He failed in his bid to attain a license to run a radio station, but he was able to arrange for a Catholic radio program to be broadcast on a station owned by the Methodist Church.

When he arrived in Adelaide in 1940, Beovich made it clear that good citizenship was important to him. In a very public way he soon established good relations with civic leaders and the heads of other Christian denominations. An early outcome of this in 1940 was the parliamentary legislation which gave religious leaders the right to send their representatives into State schools to provide religious instruction. It was another Beovich initiative, an unusual one at a time when it was deemed sinful for Catholic parents to send their children to a non-Catholic school. Catholics were relatively few in number in South Australia (12.5% of the population according to the 1933 census), and while they had by no means lived in a ghetto prior to 1940, their minority status in a predominantly Protestant society had encouraged an inward-looking focus. Beovich set the tone for greater Catholic engagement with the wider community.

Second decade: increasing pastoral role

Beovich’s second decade in Adelaide underlines the importance of a bishop’s role as chief pastor and chief executive of his diocese. In 1960 Beovich reported to Rome that the number of Catholics in his diocese had risen from 66,500 in 1950 to 120,000; about 40,000 of this number had arrived from Europe in the previous 12 years. Beovich led the way in welcoming the newcomers, demonstrating sensitive respect for their devotional practices which were sometimes very different from those familiar to the Irish clergy and Australian Catholics of Irish descent. He encouraged migrant communities to establish community centres, recruited chaplains who could speak foreign languages, and participated in special feast days and processions. In speeches he sometimes referred to the fact that his own father had been a migrant. However, he was also keen to ensure that children retained the ability to speak their mother’s native language so that they could say traditional prayers with her. That doubtless reflects the influence of his own mother, and the value which he placed on women acting as custodians of Catholic piety in the home. He had also become familiar with the Eastern rite churches in communion with Rome while he was a student at Propaganda College, and as Archbishop of Adelaide he strongly defended the right of Eastern Catholics to maintain their own liturgical traditions. 

Beovich maintained careful oversight of the expansion of his diocese, monitoring the building of new churches and schools and negotiating with religious orders to provide additional personnel for pastoral and educational work. While continuing to cooperate with other Christian leaders on matters of mutual concern, such as the “Keep Christ in Christmas” campaign, he encouraged distinctively Catholic devotional practices like Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and an annual procession in honour of Mary. A highlight of his episcopate was the National Marian Congress in 1951 when members of the hierarchy from around Australia joined thousands of lay Catholics in Adelaide for a week of special ceremonies in honour of the mother of Jesus. Two years later an estimated 60,000 Catholics gathered in Adelaide for Father Patrick Peyton’s Rosary Crusade Rally.

The 1950s was the decade when Beovich came closest to the American stereotype of the “consolidating bishop”.[8]  However, while he did bring greater order and efficiency to his diocese, and presided at triumphal displays of Catholic piety, he never succumbed to the “satisfied self-confidence” which is said to have characterised this period.[9]  What mattered when new churches were constructed was that people had a venue for prayer and the debt was manageable; Beovich was content to leave future generations “to put up the grand buildings”.[10]  He accepted, as the trappings of his office, an imposing house and a large chauffeur-driven car, but he actually lived in what had originally been the servants’ quarters, and he was happy to walk or catch public transport if the car was not available.[11]  An essentially shy man, he did not relish mingling with Adelaide’s political and professional elite. However, he dutifully accepted this as a necessary part of a bishop’s public role, an important reflection of the increasing social status of Catholics in South Australia, and an opportunity to exert a little quiet influence to overcome any remaining discrimination against them.

Influence of Vatican II

During Beovich’s third decade as Archbishop of Adelaide the collegial dimension of episcopal ministry came to the fore when he joined Catholic bishops from around the world in Rome for the Second Vatican Council. He attended all four sessions of the Council between 1962 and 1965. Although he never contributed directly to the debates in the Council hall, he followed them carefully and participated in the Council liturgies and in the meetings of the Australian hierarchy. The renewed understanding of collegiality at Vatican II was not foreign to him. From his earliest days as a bishop, Beovich had appreciated the value of the Australian bishops speaking with a united voice, and he had faithfully attended gatherings of the hierarchy. When a formal structure for the Australian Episcopal Conference was developed in 1966, he was elected vice-president, an indication of the respect in which he was held by his fellow bishops.

Initially Beovich was among the more conservative bishops at Vatican II. When the document on the liturgy was first discussed, he resisted any change in the language of the Mass. He soon became more accepting of reform, and by 1964 was a strong advocate of the vernacular liturgy. The shift can be attributed in part to his innate common-sense and to the momentum for change which developed at the Council. Above all, it was due to Beovich’s discernment of the wishes of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI. As he detected that they were “a little left of centre”, so he had to be too.[12] He was always the pope’s man in Adelaide, the link between his diocese and the bishop of Rome. This was particularly evident after the Council, when he loyally strove to implement its reforms, but it was a characteristic of his whole career. His passionate denunciation of the bombing of Rome during the Second World War indicates the depth of his attachment to the Holy See. 

There were a number of enthusiastic reformers among the lay people and clergy of the archdiocese of Adelaide. Beovich allowed them a considerable degree of latitude to promote Conciliar teaching and further develop the lay apostolate and ecumenism. It is noteworthy that the diocesan paper, The Southern Cross, published remarkably frank articles and letters to the editor on controversial matters. As a result, the Archdiocese of Adelaide acquired a reputation as one of the more progressive dioceses in Australia. Beovich was aware, however, that not all Catholics could easily accept the changes, and he insisted that they had to be introduced with “zeal and prudence”.[13] That meant that he occasionally applied the brakes to the reform process when he feared it was moving too fast. He carefully supervised changes to the liturgy, chaired the new consultative bodies which were mandated by the Council (the liturgical commission, senate of priests, and diocesan pastoral council) and retained final responsibility for making decisions. By curbing the enthusiasts and reassuring the timid, he was able to diminish resistance to the changes and maintain the ancient tradition that a bishop, in his person, is a symbol of the unity of his diocese.

Dealing with challenges

Even after the Second Vatican Council, the institutional church that Beovich loved and served was still essentially hierarchical, paternalistic and authoritarian. Loyalty and obedience to superiors were deeply ingrained in him, and he expected the same from his subordinates: the priests, religious and lay people of his archdiocese. Because of this, he was ill-equipped to deal with the challenges to authority which emerged in the 1960s as Catholics became better educated and more affluent and questioned the values and conventions of older generations. “In simple words, the layman seeks an adult role in the life of the Church”, observed one journalist in 1966.[14]  In a speech on the lay apostolate that year, Beovich reiterated the importance of humility and obedience.[15] 

Yet after the encyclical Humanae Vitae was issued in 1968, Beovich handled the controversy over birth control better than some of his colleagues interstate. He sensitively acknowledged the suffering the papal teaching could cause devout Catholics, rather than welcoming it with “a lively sense of gratitude”,[16] and he is remembered as having exhorted priests to be as gentle as possible in the confessional. On another contentious issue, the Vietnam War, Beovich’s focus on prayer for peace contrasted with the more belligerent stance of a number of other Australian bishops and was much less divisive. Some of the younger diocesan priests found it difficult to relate to Beovich, but morale amongst the clergy seems to have remained relatively high in the Adelaide archdiocese and departures from the priesthood in Beovich’s time were few. One of his last initiatives as archbishop was the creation of the Catholic Adult Education Centre to provide opportunities for lay people to deepen their understanding of their faith.  

It is a sad indication of the extent of the scandal in the Catholic Church in recent years that a bishop’s biography now seems incomplete if it does not address the issue of how he handled allegations of sexual abuse. The only evidence from Beovich’s time concerns a boys’ orphanage in the 1940s. When he was informed of “allegations of immorality” in 1942 he reacted swiftly and decisively. Displaying none of the laxity and neglect for which bishops have been so strongly criticised since the 1990s, he established an inquiry into the matter and removed the perpetrators. He also improved standards at the institution, replacing the Brothers of St John the Baptist who ran the facility with the Salesians of Don Bosco.

Involvement in Labour politics

Another long-running saga which caused Beovich much anguish was the split in the Australian Labour Party in the 1950s triggered by the controversy over the Catholic Social Studies Movement.  Beovich made a rare error in judgment in the mid-1940s when he supported B.A. Santamaria’s secretive anti-communist organization.  At the time, the threat of communist revolution seemed to justify the emergency measure.  Later Beovich realized what he should have foreseen in 1945: that successful infiltration of trade unions would inevitably lead to involvement in the ALP, and that, as the Movement enjoyed the authorization of the Catholic hierarchy, it would implicate the Church in party politics.  Beovich never supported this strategy, nor the creation of a predominantly Catholic political party, the Democratic Labour Party.   By prohibiting his priests from making political comments from the pulpit, he helped contain (in his diocese) the bitterness which erupted in the eastern states in the wake of the ALP split.  He was less successful in overcoming divisions among the Australian bishops.  The split in the hierarchy illustrates the lack of a national focus of unity in the Catholic Church in Australia. Appreciating what he called “the collective wisdom of the hierarchy”, [17] Beovich supported a collegial process of decision-making, and obeyed without question the directives which came from Rome in 1957.  The same could not be said of all his colleagues, most notably the influential nonagenarian, Daniel Mannix

Mannix remained in control of his diocese until his death in 1963. In 1971 Beovich was one of the first bishops to resign at the age of 75, in accordance with the rules for retirement introduced by Pope Paul VI in 1966. He took on the new role of emeritus archbishop with grace and dignity, supporting his successor, James Gleeson, whenever his help was needed, but not interfering in the government of the diocese.

Implications of being a Tridentine model 

In short, in Matthew Beovich’s career as archbishop of Adelaide, some of the strengths of what could be called the “Tridentine style” of episcopal leadership can be seen: selfless dedication to duty; firm, prudent administration; great concern for the salvation of souls; a strong commitment to preaching and teaching the faith; loyalty to Rome and the magisterium of the Church; and a very high standard of personal morality. Part of the shadow side of the Tridentine ideal is also evident. There was little scope for differences of opinion. When priests, religious and lay Catholics became more questioning and assertive, their allegiance to the Church was sorely tested. The fact that “deep down, beneath the sometimes brusque manner, Beovich was a very compassionate man”,[18] meant that the Catholics of the archdiocese of Adelaide seldom experienced in a negative way the full force of episcopal authority, but those who crossed Beovich did not find the encounter pleasant. 

Another weakness of the Tridentine ideal has not always been appreciated by critics of the Church’s undemocratic structures: the personal cost to those in positions of authority. Beovich admitted in 1941 that “the life of a priest was a lonely life, and that of a bishop even more lonely.”[19]  He would doubtless have agreed with Norman Gilroy’s comment that the office of bishop brought with it “a necessary isolation”.[20]  A certain degree of formality had to be maintained, even priests had to be always addressed by their titles, never their Christian names.  The laity were kept at an even greater distance. The famous speed with which Beovich circulated at functions ensured that while a great many people got to meet him, very few got to know him well.  Bishops with strong, gregarious personalities may have been able to transcend the straitjacket of their office, and some could relax in the company of relatives and maintain a close relationship with a younger generation of nieces and nephews.  Beovich did not enjoy those opportunities. Significantly, his closest friends seem to have been fellow bishops. For over 30 years he spent his annual holiday with Bishop O’Collins and several other bishops at the presbytery at Koroit in the Ballarat diocese.

Retirement and legacy

After Beovich retired, he relaxed his guard somewhat and began to call some of the senior priests by their Christian names.[21]  Some children also found him approachable and kind,[22] but overall he was a very private person.  In his homily at the requiem Mass for the deceased archbishop on 29 October 1981, Philip Kennedy told the congregation how much Beovich relished the many hours he spent in prayer “with the one intimate friend of his life, the Risen Christ”. Later Kennedy added, “In this self-effacing and shy man we divined depths of piety which remained in the privacy of his heart and mind . . .”[23]  

Given his personality and his understanding of the role of the bishop, it is not surprising that many people remember Beovich as remote and austere. Yet his legacy to the diocese remains important. In part it is evident in the well-coordinated Catholic school and welfare systems and the importance accorded to multi-culturalism and ecumenism in the diocese. The fact that the political crisis of the 1950s and the profound changes of the 1960s were less divisive in Adelaide than interstate has also been of great long-term significance. Beovich’s beloved seminary has closed, but Catholic adult faith education continues in another form. With fierce modesty and a somewhat cynical view of the transitory nature of human achievements, he did not expect to be long remembered, but even though he has faded from prominence, in subtle and indirect ways his influence will continue to be felt for a long time to come. 

 

[1] Matthew’s elder sister, Mary, died in 1900.  His brother Francis (Frank) was born later that year, and sister Veronica (Vera) in 1902.  Frank became a teacher in the state education system.  Vera joined the Sisters of St Joseph and became known as Sister Matthew.

[2] Advertiser, 13 December 1940.

[3] Tribune, 25 October 1923, p. 4.

[4] Beovich reflected on the challenge of inculcating Catholic faith in way which did not seem unmanly in a sermon during the college’s silver jubilee celebrations.  St Joseph’s College, North Melbourne, Jubilee Review (1928), p. 29.

[5] Thomas Horgan, interview by author, 23 September 1997; Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, p. 9.

[6] Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, p. 2

[7] Homily at Blessing and First Mass of St John Vianney Church, Burnside, 17 June 1962, Adelaide Catholic Archdiocesan Archives.

[8] James O’Toole, “The Role of Bishops in American Catholic History: Myth and Reality in the Case of Cardinal William O’Connell”, Catholic Historical Review, 77 (October 1991): 595-615.  O’Toole contributed the chapter “The Name that Stood for Rome: William O’Connell and the Modern Episcopal Style” to Gerard P. Fogarty, ed., Patterns of Episcopal Leadership, the Bicentennial History of the Catholic Church in America (New York & London: Macmillan, 1989).

[9] Edward Kantowicz, “The Beginning and End of an Era: George William Mundelein and John Patrick Cody in Chicago”, in Gerard Fogarty, ed. Patterns of Episcopal Leadership, p. 204.

[10] Matthew Beovich’s Diary, 27 July 1952.

[11] In 1943 Mary and John Fennescey gave the diocese the money to purchase a two-story house at Robe Terrace, Medindie, as a residence for the archbishop.  Beovich initially objected that it was too elegant, too far from the cathedral, staffing would be a problem, and there were other more worthy projects in the diocese which required funding (Diary, 15 May 1943).  Vincent Tiggeman recalls Beovich telling him that he changed his mind “because he didn’t think his successors would thank him for refusing to accept such a wonderful gift”.  He named the house “Ennis” after his grandparents’ hometown in Ireland. 

[12] Diary, 28 October 1963.

[13] Southern Cross, 4 February 1966, p. 1.

[14] Peter Gough, “A Year After Vatican II: Breathing New Life Into Catholicism”, Bulletin, 12 November 1966. p. 33.

[15] Southern Cross, 22 April 1966. p. 2.

[16] Archbishop Knox of Melbourne, quoted in the Advertiser, 31 July 1968. p. 1.

[17] Notes for meeting of the Australian bishops on 27 January 1956 in ACAA.

[18] Edward Mulvihill, “My Recollections of Archbishop Matthew Beovich”, typescript in possession of the author. 

[19] Southern Cross, 18 July 1941, p. 9.

[20] Norman Gilroy, cited by Edmund Campion, Great Australian Catholics (Melbourne: Viking, 1987), p. 69.

[21] Thomas Horgan, interview by author, 23 September 1997; James Gleeson, interview by author, 8 October 1997.

[22] Bill Byrne recalls being invited by Archbishop Gleeson to a meal at Ennis in the 1970s, along with his wife and four children.  The youngest child wandered out of the dining room, and another was sent to fetch him back.  When, over time, all four children disappeared, the adults went in search and found them clustered around the elderly archbishop. They had innocently strayed into his private domain and been warmly welcomed.  Interview by author, 13 December 2004.

[23] Philip Kennedy, homily at Beovich’s requiem Mass, 29 October 1981.  A copy is in the ACAA.  It was published in the Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, pp. 28-9.

 


[1] Matthew’s elder sister, Mary, died in 1900.  His brother Francis (Frank) was born later that year, and sister Veronica (Vera) in 1902.  Frank became a teacher in the state education system.  Vera joined the Sisters of         St Joseph and became known as Sister Matthew.

[1] Advertiser, 13 December 1940.

[1] Tribune, 25 October 1923, p. 4.

[1] Beovich reflected on the challenge of inculcating Catholic faith in way which did not seem unmanly in a sermon during the college’s silver jubilee celebrations.  St Joseph’s College, North Melbourne, Jubilee Review (1928), p. 29.

[1] Thomas Horgan, interview by author, 23 September 1997; Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, p. 9.

[1] Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, p. 2

[1] Homily at Blessing and First Mass of St John Vianney Church, Burnside, 17 June 1962, Adelaide Catholic Archdiocesan Archives.

[1] James O’Toole, “The Role of Bishops in American Catholic History: Myth and Reality in the Case of Cardinal William O’Connell”, Catholic Historical Review, 77 (October 1991): 595-615.  O’Toole contributed the chapter “The Name that Stood for Rome: William O’Connell and the Modern Episcopal Style” to Gerard P. Fogarty, ed., Patterns of Episcopal Leadership, the Bicentennial History of the Catholic Church in America (New York & London: Macmillan, 1989).

[1] Edward Kantowicz, “The Beginning and End of an Era: George William Mundelein and John Patrick Cody in Chicago”, in Gerard Fogarty, ed. Patterns of Episcopal Leadership, p. 204.

[1] Matthew Beovich’s Diary, 27 July 1952.

[1] In 1943 Mary and John Fennescey gave the diocese the money to purchase a two-story house at Robe Terrace, Medindie, as a residence for the archbishop.  Beovich initially objected that it was too elegant, too far from the cathedral, staffing would be a problem, and there were other more worthy projects in the diocese which required funding (Diary, 15 May 1943).  Vincent Tiggeman recalls Beovich telling him that he changed his mind “because he didn’t think his successors would thank him for refusing to accept such a wonderful gift”.  He named the house “Ennis” after his grandparents’ hometown in Ireland. 

[1] Diary, 28 October 1963.

[1] Southern Cross, 4 February 1966, p. 1.

[1] Peter Gough, “A Year After Vatican II: Breathing New Life Into Catholicism”, Bulletin, 12 November 1966. p. 33.

[1] Southern Cross, 22 April 1966. p. 2.

[1] Archbishop Knox of Melbourne, quoted in the Advertiser, 31 July 1968. p. 1.

[1] Notes for meeting of the Australian bishops on 27 January 1956 in ACAA.

[1] Edward Mulvihill, “My Recollections of Archbishop Matthew Beovich”, typescript in possession of the author. 

[1] Southern Cross, 18 July 1941, p. 9.

[1] Norman Gilroy, cited by Edmund Campion, Great Australian Catholics (Melbourne: Viking, 1987), p. 69.

[1] Thomas Horgan, interview by author, 23 September 1997; James Gleeson, interview by author, 8 October 1997.

[1] Bill Byrne recalls being invited by Archbishop Gleeson to a meal at Ennis in the 1970s, along with his wife and four children.  The youngest child wandered out of the dining room, and another was sent to fetch him back.  When, over time, all four children disappeared, the adults went in search and found them clustered around the elderly archbishop. They had innocently strayed into his private domain and been warmly welcomed.  Interview by author, 13 December 2004.

[1] Philip Kennedy, homily at Beovich’s requiem Mass, 29 October 1981.  A copy is in the ACAA.  It was published in the Southern Cross, 5 November 1981, pp. 28-9.

 

 



< back to Search