Until recently, I knew very little about Fr. Edward J. Flanagan (1886–1948). Of course, I had heard of Boys Town, the community outside Omaha, Nebraska, that Flanagan founded for the education of homeless and neglected youth. And I was familiar with the iconic 1938 Boys Town film (starring Spencer Tracy in an Oscar-winning performance as Flanagan). But I had little clear notion of the massive impact of Flanagan’s apostolate until I watched the new documentary, Heart of a Servant: The Father Flanagan Story. This remarkable film is produced by the incredibly talented crew of Spirit Juice Studios in association with the Father Flanagan League. Like all Spirit Juice productions that I’ve seen, Heart of a Servant is visually immersive. Archival footage of Flanagan and photographs from the period give the viewer a window into Edward Flanagan’s life and times. The soundtrack is beautiful, and Jonathan Roumie (star of the hit series The Chosen) brings both gravitas and pathos as the film’s narrator.
Heart of a Servant reminds us that one person really can change the world with the power of faith. The film expertly communicates the radicality and boldness of Flanagan’s vision for Christ-centered education at a time when Catholicism was held in suspicion and contempt by some Americans. Moving personal testimonies from former residents of Boys Town illustrate the priceless legacy that Flanagan’s tireless efforts, animated by an intense love for the Gospel, have left to future generations. Fr. Flanagan’s great-nephew Ed Flanagan choked back tears as he talked about his lifelong love for Boys Town: “This isn’t a normal high school. This is our home.”
Long before the credits rolled, I was convinced that Heart of a Servant was an urgently important film. Though it’s hardly possible to do justice to Flanagan’s dynamic charism in a few brief paragraphs, three aspects of his mission stand out as particularly relevant for our times: his tenacious commitment to holistic education, his unwavering stand against injustice, and his farsighted devotion to the cause of peace.
There are no bad boys. There is only bad environment, bad training, bad example, bad thinking.
Edward J. Flanagan, the son of Irish tenant farmers, immigrated to the United States when he was eighteen years old. After studying abroad for the priesthood and working with the homeless poor in Omaha during the depths of the Great Depression, Flanagan conceived and executed his visionary plan for Boys Town. His guiding philosophy was simple: “There are no bad boys. There is only bad environment, bad training, bad example, bad thinking.” At Boys Town, Fr. Flanagan nourished the bodies, minds, and souls of all his students by providing an environment where they could grow and thrive. He taught the boys to become good American citizens, instilling strength of character and civic virtues. He admonished them by word and example to stand up for justice in all circumstances. He treated every child under his care as a unique, valuable, unrepeatable person. Above all else, he wanted all his boys to become saints. Just imagine if this vision of education—the nurturing of young saints—was adopted today as the guiding star of every Catholic school across America!
Fr. Flanagan also embodied something of the spirit of the Old Testament prophets. He proclaimed the truth, even when it was countercultural, even when it was unwelcome. And he was a courageous fighter against societal injustice. Flanagan resisted Jim Crow laws and racial discrimination long before it was popular to do so. In Heart of a Servant, I was surprised to learn from expert historian Dr. Heather Fryer that Boys Town was the first fully integrated community of its kind in America. Flanagan’s mission was bitterly opposed by the resurgent Ku Klux Klan, who saw Catholic immigrants like Flanagan as a threat to the Klan’s narrow and prejudiced vision of “the American way of life.” But the death threats of racist agitators did not intimidate the indomitable Irish priest.
Flanagan had an unshakable belief in the inherent dignity of every human being. He spoke out against the abhorrent pseudoscience of eugenics, which was a cultural force to be reckoned with in the early decades of the twentieth century. Eugenicists advocated the “improvement of the race” through ghastly methods such as the infanticide of “malformed” babies and the sterilization of criminals and so-called “mental defectives.” A frighteningly similar message is current today, with the murder of the inconvenient and the “unfit” by abortion and assisted suicide becoming enshrined in law in many places and euphemistically touted as “health care.” Like Fr. Flanagan, all Catholics today are called to defend the truth of every person’s inalienable right to life.
In the wake of the Pearl Harbor attack and America’s entry into the Second World War, Flanagan took another unpopular stance. He vigorously opposed the mass internment of Japanese Americans as “dangerous enemy aliens.” I was especially touched by the personal reminiscences of Marilyn Takahashi Fordney, who recounts how Fr. Flanagan rescued her family from the degrading conditions of the internment camps and brought them to live as residents of Boys Town. She recounts, in part: “[At Boys Town] I grew up in a completely free atmosphere. . . . I think that the love showed through. . . . Everyone there worked together as a family.” In all, hundreds of Japanese-Americans were liberated from internment due to Flanagan’s influence. His courage and commitment to Catholic social teaching should serve as a road map to navigate our own hyper-polarized political landscape, where human dignity is under near-constant assault by extreme political ideologies.
In the aftermath of the global war, Fr. Flanagan’s heart was moved by the dire state of Europe and East Asia. With the backing of President Harry S. Truman, he embarked on a new mission—to win the peace by rebuilding infrastructure and social services in Germany and Japan. Entire cities in the former Axis nations had been laid to waste by the Allied campaign of “strategic bombing.” Literally millions of people were made homeless or were forced to flee as refugees. Countless children were orphaned by the urban fighting and by the systematic campaigns of genocide perpetrated by the Nazis and their collaborators. Flanagan sought to bring a ray of hope in the midst of this devastation.
In the twenty-first century, migration and the flow of refugees remain critical global issues. As I write this, children and families are at risk in war zones from Ukraine to Gaza and elsewhere. When the guns finally fall silent, the herculean task of serving the thousands of victims—the maimed, displaced, and psychologically scarred—will have barely begun. Luckily, we have Fr. Flanagan’s example of peace and reconciliation to show us the way.
The life and witness of Fr. Flanagan is a model for how Catholic social teaching can be applied to the complexities of the twenty-first century.
Although the trip abroad left him physically exhausted, Flanagan wouldn’t rest until every child he encountered had been offered a chance at a better life. He was doing God’s work. But the chronic sickness that dogged him throughout his life finally caught up with him. Edward Flanagan died on May 15, 1948, in Berlin. His body was brought back to the States and he was laid to rest at his beloved Boys Town.
The life and witness of Fr. Flanagan is a model for how Catholic social teaching can be applied to the complexities of the twenty-first century. The key to his extraordinary success was that Flanagan spoke and acted as a true disciple of Christ. He saw the face of his Master in every person he helped, regardless of race, nationality, or creed. A genuine, all-consuming love for the poor and the vulnerable propelled him forward in living out the words of the Gospel: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matt. 25:40).
The Apostle Paul wrote: “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). I cannot think of a better epitaph for Fr. Flanagan. The truly great saints are those who allow Christ to so thoroughly transform their lives—indeed their very selves—that they can’t help but present the face of Christ to every single person they encounter. The saint becomes an alter Christus (“another Christ”) in the world. Edward J. Flanagan was such an alter Christus. He was also a man who embodied the best of the American spirit and understood the importance of faith, family, and community for the flourishing of a just and prosperous society. In 2012, the Archdiocese of Omaha opened a cause for the canonization of Fr. Flanagan, who is now recognized by the title “Servant of God.”
Heart of a Servant: The Father Flanagan Story, which will be released nationwide in theaters by Fathom Events on Tuesday, October 8, 2024, is a truly remarkable film about the enduring impact of a remarkable man. I’ll leave the last words to Fidelma Croghan, a resident of Ballymoe, Ireland, who offers a fitting tribute to her hometown’s favorite son: “[Fr. Flanagan is] definitely a saint for our time. We need him. The Church needs him.”