Raymond Arroyo's Tribute to Fr. Neuhaus in the WSJ

Raymond frames Father Neuhaus' mission of truth nicely.

On April 11, 2005, I entered St. Peter's Basilica in Rome with my friend Father Richard John Neuhaus to pay our respects to the recently deceased Pope John Paul II. After kneeling before the pontiff's body, I remarked at how small the pope appeared. "That wasn't him. He isn't there," I said. "No," Father Neuhaus said. "He is there. These are the remains, what is left behind of a life such as we are not likely to see again, waiting with all of us for the Resurrection of the dead, the final vindication of the hope he proclaimed."

As was his wont, Father Neuhaus was capable of delivering impromptu corrections with an eloquence and precision that would elude the best of us. When I learned of his passing yesterday at the age of 72, his words echoed in my memory. He was not only a great intellectual and an exemplary man of letters but, as his remark to me illustrates, he was a man who put his mind and his literary skill at the service of his church and the truths it protected. He was first and last a man animated by his faith.

I can't think of anything I have valued more, learned and benefited from more than the presence of a Church militant who chose truth above all else, in every circumstance...with a great and cutting sense of humor:

For me personally, Father Neuhaus will forever be attached to the election of Pope Benedict XVI and, early last year, his journey to America. Father Neuhaus was my co-host for the Eternal Word Television Network's live coverage of those events, providing commentary that was erudite and occasionally cutting. When I announced to our viewers that the pope would be meeting with the American bishops in the crypt of National Basilica in Washington, Father Neuhaus quipped: "A fitting repository for the American Episcopacy."

Most people in this life compromise truth - in their mission, friendships, companionship, parenting, jobs, etc. I'm not talking about prudence - as in, you're going to hell in a handbasket, it's time to hit the gym, etc. I'm talking about blaring omissions when the Holy Spirit has put you in a situation, gives you the training, wisdom...and you don't. You hop in the river and go with the flow, even when you know yesing people is hurting them, their family, friends, job, hurting you, hurting Christ.

Ugh, how I hate those no win situations...when you know a situation is going south, you've dropped the seeds of truth but the person whom you love and care about is rebuffing you, starts to circle the drain and you've got to let go least you get sucked down with them.

I'm not a good let-it-goer. I have that flaw where you hang on thinking you can fix it another way, other than God's, even when He sets the place on fire and the air is toxic. You know the routine. When you try to straighten crooked lines and everything you say or do is twisted and turned against you...you still don't want to believe the signals from the Holy Spirit.

Tom Hoopes has some good reflections here.

No one likes a “know-it-all” who tries to impress by correcting. But perhaps you’ve met people who aren’t pedantic but are honest, forthright, and feel keenly the importance of the truth. Neuhaus was one of those.

A friend told me the story about a dinner he had with Father Neuhaus, where the priest asked the question: Why do Catholics almost invariably avoid saying “Jesus” and prefer “Christ”? My friend suggested a theory and felt socially covered: He had been able to come up with something interesting to say.

Father Neuhaus answered with, “No. You’re wrong.” And explained how, in fact, he was.

I had the same experience with Neuhaus in my most recent encounter with him. I offered a cool conversational theory. He decimated it.

There’s a sort of unspoken rule that people have in conversation: Unless you’re peddling an argument, you get to be wrong with minimal consequence. I’m not saying it’s a bad rule; I think it is a good one, generally. But it can be bad.

Once you get into the habit of letting people’s feelings trump the truth in small things, you have started down the road to letting feelings trump the truth in large ways.

Arroyo also brings it up:

When one steps back and looks at the turns of Father Neuhaus's life -- at his active engagement with social causes and, when American culture changed, with those "first things" that came to matter more than ever; at his willingness to forsake friendships and old alliances to pursue the truth -- it is ever more clear that he was willing to obey the promptings of his faith, no matter where they took him.

Living on a much higher spiritual plain.