Former Express (Your Ex) managing editor Peter Dragicevich reflects on the legacy of Father Michael Bancroft for gay Catholics.
There can’t be too many people who have had their passing acknowledged with such warmth by groups as disparate as the Burnett Foundation, Hato Hone St John and Urge Events, and who then go on to have a funeral concelebrated by three Catholic bishops. Then again, Father Michael Bancroft was anything but ordinary.
I first met Father Mike in the late 1980s while he was still a parish priest. His parishioners adored him, even though they may not have realised at the time that they were sharing their pastor with another flock. During the height of the AIDS epidemic in New Zealand, Father Mike was a familiar face at the bedsides of the dying, providing comfort and consolation at a time of much stigma and fear. He sat with dozens upon dozens of gay men in their last days, irrespective of their faith or lack of it. He then went on to celebrate funerals for many of them, affording each person a dignified farewell. Along with the late Sister Paula Brettkelly in Wellington, he was one of the humble heroes of that era.
Some people may be surprised to learn that a Catholic priest and nun were at the forefront of the AIDS response in this country. But Father Mike and Sister Paula were simply following the example of a long list of saints who have provided similar ministries throughout the centuries to equally marginalised groups.
Life can be complex for gay Catholics and even more so for gay Catholic priests. As the worst years of the pandemic passed and Mike started to explore his own sexuality more openly, he was unable to continue his public ministry within the Church. But he never stopped being a priest, and he never stopped serving people in need. He would go on to become the chaplain to the Order of St. John and to take charge of important grassroots programmes with them, focused on caring for the sick. He was also the final guardian of the New Zealand AIDS Memorial Quilt before it was transferred to Te Papa Tongarewa.
As a gay Catholic, I take heart from the fact that Mike never abandoned the Church and the Church never abandoned him. For the years leading up to his death, he lived in accommodation set aside for retired clergy in Hillsborough. During that time, I’d bump into him at both gay events and at Sunday Masses. Mike showed by example that being gay and being Christian needn’t be an either/or proposition.
While it can be difficult being gay in the Catholic world, the reverse is also true. Yet Mike found a way to walk in both worlds authentically and with considerable mana.
The high regard in which he was held by many within the Church was clearly demonstrated by the three bishops and dozens of priests and Marist brothers who attended his Requiem. They were joined by a large contingent from Hato Hone St John and many familiar faces from Urge parties and gay community groups. During the Mass, prayers explicitly acknowledged Mike’s ministry to the Rainbow community. He was buried with his purple stole on his casket, as a priest.
Things change slowly in the Catholic Church, but change does happen. The difference in tone we’ve noticed under Pope Francis and Pope Leo hasn’t come about in a vacuum. It reflects the witness of Father Mike and thousands of others like him within the Church, holding true to both their faith and their authentic selves.
