Fr. Anthony Saldanha SJ
1925 - 2006

My dearest Tony,

In his Providence God brought us closely together through the years. We were born in the same year, embraced the Jesuit way of life the same year and were appointed to St. Stanislaus' for regency the same year. Entrusted with the care of 120 boisterous boarders, I came to admire you as a loving person, a faithful friend, a truly unforgettable character. Our similarities didn't cease with regency. We were ordained the same year and took our final vows together. Then we parted company briefly. While you continued your stay at St. Peter's, I was sent elsewhere, till again 27 years later, when we came to work together as Parish Assistants at St. Peter's, a short stint for me, but a permanent commitment of 47 years for you!

I can say in all honesty that right from the time I met you in 1951, I felt a secret admiration for you. I saw in you the faithful servant whom the Lord Jesus in his parable of the three servants, praised for his faithfulness and dedication. No matter what you were assigned to, you always delivered 100% returns to the Lord from the talents he blessed you with. The amount mattered little because the returns were always 100%, all through the 63 years of your Jesuit life!

I know that what I say is going to embarrass you. I see you, Tony, as a living Gospel Paradox.

You were weak but strong!
Your bodily frame was so frail that it seemed you would fall apart any day. Yet you worked hard for nearly 50 years with dedication and zest. You seemed to draw strength from your own weakness, recalling the Apostle Paul's boast: "When I am weak, then I am strong!"

You were sick but healthy!
All through your life you suffered from many ailments, health problems, worries and anxieties. Yet your ear-to-ear smile spoke to one and all of the spiritual health and vitality that motivated you. With your calm presence and soft-spokenness you imparted comfort and strength to more people in distress than you can ever imagine.

You performed the ordinary duties of your priestly ministry, in an extraordinary manner.
Your simple life was not known for any heroic acts or outstanding achievements. You did not build or run schools or churches, did not write any books or make a name as a famous preacher, but you were always there, when people needed a comforter and friend. Your "extraordinariness" lay not in what you did, but how you did it. There was a thoroughness, a meticulous attention to detail in the way you kept accounts, followed liturgical practices, preserved the parish files and burial records and spent endless hours in the confessional.

You thought little of yourself but highly of others! Gandhiji once said that a great man was one who didn't think himself great but made others think they were great. Firmly believing in Jesus' promise that "the lowly would be exalted and the exalted brought low", you gave yourself to teaching Catechism, to the care of little children, First Communicants, Altar Servers, Lectors. You cared for those who did not count much in society: the sick, both those at home and in hospitals, the poor and needy, the house-bound and the dying, beggars and outcast. Nobody was turned away as undeserving of your help.

You lacked the gift of eloquence yet were an effective preacher!
Through all your years of priestly ministry, you touched the hearts of many by your living example of Jesus' commandment of love. Even before your simple words struck their ears, people already knew you to be a good shepherd reaching out at all times to listen, advise, heal, comfort, assist and shoulder the sorrows of all who came to you labored and overburdened.

If you could have seen the many concelebrants and parishioners that crowded St. Peter's Church for your Funeral Mass, you might have asked in your usual simplicity: "Why have they gathered here?" The answer was obvious enough to one and all. If the love of God and neighbor, so clearly visible in your life, did not draw them, then what did?

- Fr. Peter Ribes SJ