Reverend Fr. John Larrea, S.D.B., a Catholic priest and missionary, passed away in Shillong, Meghalaya, India, on April 17, 2013, at the age of 92. He was born into a devout Catholic family in Spain in 1921 and lived there till the age of 18, when he left for India as a Salesianseminarian to become a missionary. In the early 1950s, the young Spanish priest asked his Italian superior in Assam,The Rt. Rev. Bishop O. Marengo, to be a missionary among the Nagas. Fr. Larrea started his work withthe Lothas, and the rest is history – an unusual history. For him (“The Lotha Father” as he was affectionately called), the unusual opportunity for evangelization came tantalizingly wrapped in the political troubles of the 1950s and ‘60s.For the Lothas of the time, Fr. Larrea represented a new kind of man: an energetic whiteman in his thirties, single, altruistic, sociable, funny, holy, great with kids and older people alike, who ended up giving them the firstmost vibrant twenty years of hislong priestly ministry. Andfor the many families and communities throughout the Northeast and beyond whocame under the beneficent influence of his person and books, it was very unusual to have a missionary like him in their midst forso long.
When he passed away last week, he was Chaplain of the Grotto community at the Cathedral Church in Shillong. He had been in that position for thirty yearswhile alsosingle-handedly running the Pastoral Centre’s The Word of Godpublication series and other catechetical guides.These books were primarily intended for lay ministers leading faith communities in the villages of Northeastern India, but they quickly became indispensable companions for catechists in other parts of India and Southeast Asian countries as well. They have been translated into severalAsian languages.
Earlier, in the 1970s, Fr. Larrea started the Catechist Training Centre in Dibrugarh, Assam, where young Catholic men from Nagaland and Manipur studied the Bible, learned language skills, church music, and Christian pedagogical methods, to return to their villages and small towns as catechists.The work he did during the last fifty-or-so years of his life, 1970s to 2013,essentially turned Fr. Larreaintothe missionaries’missionary. But that’s not something that would ever have crossed the mind of the man who consistently omitted his name from the publications he wrote and saw through to their completion, only preferring to credit the “Pastoral Centre,” the “Don Bosco Press,” and the canonical “NihilObstat” and “Imprimatur”;or simply,“The Author,” as in,“This book is dedicated to the Catechist, that so highly spoken of key-person in evangelization, still to come into his own; with a prayer, as a token of admiration. The Author.”
The Pastoral Centre years in Shillong were the logical culmination of Fr. Larrea’smissionary life among the Lothasin the 1950s and 1960swhen he was in his thirties and forties. He could not enter the Naga Hills without a permit from New Delhi in those days, so he set up a primary Don Boscoschool in Golaghat, Assam, for boys from Lotha villages. I was recruited in 1960. I’ve many fond memories from that time. One of the earliest that has stuck with me was the eveningFr. Larreacameinto our study hall. He stood atthe front, looking unusually serious, and said he wanted us to pray extra hard for a miracle. He took out his wallet, held it up for all of us to see, turned it upside down, and shook it. There was nothing in it. “I have no money to buy food,” he said.“I will have to send you all home next week unless a miracle happens before that.” He was silent for a bit, then said:“Boys, God is good. You just pray --pray hard, OK!”
Fr. Larrea and I, and later my family, have stayed regularly in touch since. He quickly sent me away from Golaghatto a minor seminary in Shillong, where I received an excellent high school education, but left it in my late-teens to later fall in love and get married. But before that, during my college years in the 1970s, I was again back with him at his Catechist Training Centre in Dibrugarh, Assam, helping the trainees with their English and music. I went on to pursue further studies and emigrated with my family to the United States, where we are settled and doing well. I know I will not be who I am and where I am today, nor would my family, if it were not for Fr. Larrea. There are many people like me, and families like mine, whose lives have been changed forever – for the better, because of Fr. Larrea. But, fittingly, our individual stories are only part to the bigger, greater story of Fr. Larrea’s life and work, which was Mission. And for that, God made sure to grant him the length of years, good health, and the gifts necessary to accomplish to an astonishing degree, but most of all, God gave him faith and love, and not least, sense of humor. The last time I heard from him was at Easter. He signed off his “Easter Blessings in abundance” on me and my family with: “Fr. J. Larrea, sdb. Ultra EsonEran chi” (Lotha for “The Ultra Old Man.”)
I deeply regretted not being at Fr. Larrea’s funeral; it was scheduled too soon for me to reach Shillong on time. So I had to make do with prayer. Hearing from a good Lotha friend Fr. Abraham and knowing he was going to be at the funeral was reassuring. Had I been at his farewell service, I might have had a brief conversation with Fr. Larrea:
So, Fr. Larrea, here we are, at the end of your long life of labor and the beginning of eternal joy.
No, my man, 92 seconds of labor for Eternal Life!
That may be, but looks like God made you work longer than your friends had to for the same reward?!
What difference is there now, my man? I’m up here with God and angels and my friends. Are you jealous?
Yes and No, Father. I’ll see you when I see you…. Just one more thing, remember back in 1960 in Golaghat? You told us to pray for a miracle because you had nomoney to buy food for us? Who was the benefactor that worked the miracle for us?
Oh, the benefactor was from ….. Sorry, my man, I’ve to go – St. Thomas is putting on a fabulous one-man show on FAITH in a fantastic crystal hall not far from…. See you, my man……
See you, Father, see you later…… Thank you!!!
Paul Pimomo
