BRIDGEPORT — Standing at the lectern on Mother's Day, the Rev. Michael Flynn likes to tell a story.
Neighborhood folks call it the “Christmas Tree Story."
A 28-year-old, recently ordained priest, Flynn was driving home from a wedding, somewhere along Western Avenue, when his mother, Mary-Ellen, piped up.
"Stop the car,” she said.
Flynn kept driving.
“Stop the car," his mother said again.
Like a good son, Flynn stopped the car. His mother pointed to a city truck. In the back, piled high, were Christmas trees. “Go get me a tree,” she said.
“Ma,” Flynn said. “You have seven sons. You have to pick the son who became a priest to steal you a Christmas tree?”
Year after year, that’s the part of the story that makes the church erupt in laughter.
It’s a story the loyal parishioners of Nativity of Our Lord will miss come next year. On Dec. 4, after 45 years of service at Nativity, "Father Mike" will retire to the Carmelite Spiritual Center in suburban Darien.
“I have mixed very mixed feelings about it,” Flynn said. “I’m ready to move on, but all the people I’ve gotten to know and love … I will miss them.”
• • •
Born in Canaryville on Dec. 2, 1935, Michael Flynn was one of 10 kids. His mother had seven boys and three girls.
Flynn attended St. Gabriel. Starting in the fourth grade, he sold newspapers for spending money, and by eighth grade he decided he wanted to become a priest.
At 13, he traveled to the Mount Carmel Spiritual Centre in Niagara Falls, N.Y., a time calls “delightful years.” By 1961, he was ordained a priest.
Over the next decade, after getting his bachelor’s degree in mathematics, Flynn traveled around the country studying and teaching high school math. Flynn spent a year in Louisville, Kentucky, and then seven years closer to home at Carmel High School in suburban Mundelein.
During his five years a director of the Carmelite Institute of Revival’s Mission Band — a group that runs retreats for men and women of all ages — Flynn received his doctorate in psychology. He spent the next 42 years as a counselor and training director at the Jesse Brown VA Medical Center, where he retired in June.
As a psychologist, Flynn learned many skills he would use as a priest. Many neighborhood men and women have sought his advice about day-to-day struggles.
“Problems with kids. Problems with each other,” Flynn said. “We talked about whatever they wanted to talk about.”
Flynn even uses hypnosis techniques to help parishioners with anxiety about things like doctor appointments and long flights.
But if Flynn has a specialty — besides being a good friend and helpful ear to all who need it — it’s storytelling.
“Few of us can resist a story,” Flynn said. “Story is powerful.”
He carries a pen with him wherever he goes. When he has time, he writes letters to friends. He drafts his homilies with care. Flynn is conscious about every word.
“In the seminary, they say, ‘Try to stop talking, before they stop listening,’” Flynn said. “I’m not a long talker.”
Maryann Farnan has been a parishioner at Nativity for 45 years. Flynn is her favorite priest.
“You can count on Father Flynn’s mass,” Farnan said. “They are 40 minutes to the minute.”
She remembers when Flynn first arrived.
“You should have seen him when he was younger,” she said. “All the ladies thought he was so handsome.”
Lillian Buckley got married at Nativity 41 years ago, not long after Flynn arrived at the church. A lifelong Canaryville gal, she served as principal at Bridgeport Catholic Academy from 2002-12. She’ll miss Flynn’s stories.
“Father Flynn is always our celebrant,” Buckley said. “His homily is always relevant. He’s going to be sorely missed. There’s no question about it.”
Flynn has had many conversations with parishioners saddened by news of his retirement.
In his retirement, Flynn plans to write. He plans to work on books about spiritual well-being and his life growing up and his time serving as a priest on the South Side.
The change has had him feeling melancholy.
“They say things like, ‘You’ve been a boon to the parish,’” Flynn said, sitting at a dining table in the church rectory, his voice cracking, his eyes filling with tears. “I tell them, ‘It goes both ways.’”
• • •
Not long after hearing the “Christmas Tree” story, Farnan ran into Flynn at a church gathering.
She had to ask a question that had been bugging her — and many others — since hearing his famous Mother’s Day tale.
"Did you take the tree?" Farnan asked.
But Flynn would never tell.
He only smiled.
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