Griffin''s reflections trace his deepening awareness of the face of Christ in every human person. They remind readers of the struggles that the American church experienced as it adjusted to the reforms of Vatican II and the upheavals in American life in the late twentieth century. Through them he also tells the story of some of the changes on the Notre Dame campus, such as Gerry Faust''s tenure as head football coach and Father Theodore Hesburgh''s retirement as president. Griffin also ruminates on larger social issues with which he struggled, including sexuality, declining attendance at Mass, poverty, and intolerance. Through all of his writings, his own priesthood is a theme so deeply laid that it informs and animates every aspect of his ministry and his life. The essay "Alter Christus"hints at the archetype that priesthood became for his life. These essays remain luminously alive long after his death, for Griffin''s spirituality remains focused on the ways in which God participates in our humanity and we in his divinity. Griffin consistently touches on the brotherhood of all humanity and resists the squabbling and animus that can divide people as they approach spiritual questions.

It is a spirituality that we still need today. Griffin''s writings were part of his ministry at Notre Dame, a ministry that had deep roots. He converted to Catholicism in 1944, after reading the stories of writer John O''Brien, and arrived as a student at Notre Dame the following year. He graduated from Notre Dame in 1949 with an English degree and went on to seminary; he took his first vows in 1950 and, four years later, was ordained a priest in the Eastern Province of the Holy Cross. He taught at Father Baker High School in Lackawanna, New York, for two years before taking a master''s degree in English from Notre Dame in 1957 and going on to further graduate studies at Boston University. For seven years he taught at Stonehill College, but he was not very successful as a faculty member, according to Father James T.Burtchaell,C.S.

C.,who reckoned that Griffin''s antipathy for academic discipline made those seven years a wilderness for him. A nervous breakdown returned him to Notre Dame and HolyCross House. He taught at the high school seminary on St. Mary''s Lake for a year before taking up residence in Keenan Hall in 1967 as assistant rector, becoming its rector two years later.In moving him out of that position, the university made him its official chaplain. Griffin''s departure from Keenan was bitter for him, but he took his new role of university chaplain seriously. Despite his efforts to work with the office of Campus Ministry, his affinity and true ministry were for the marginal and the defenseless.

After thirty years of service, he went once more to Holy Cross House, this time closer in age to the other priests who were in residence there. He died on October 20, 1999, after a life of struggle and goodness. The obituary for Griffin in the South Bend Tribune described him as "one of Notre Dame''s most affectionate and affectionately regarded characters." Trailing after or leading his dog, Darby O''Gill, Griffin was a campus familiar, one whom everyone knew. In fact, it was hard to miss Darby O''Gill and Griffin. Dogs were a rarity on campus, and Griffin''s weight made him instantly recognizable.(He once remarked that he and Father George Wiskirchen shared the friendship of overweight men living among youthful, thin students.) Darby and Griffin were highly approachable, too.

The few students who were afraid or too bashful to speak directly with Griffin found an approach through Darby, who seemed not to mind the attention and, in fact, generally took it as his natural due. Griffin referred to Darby in such human terms and with such affection that most of us forgot the little beast was not quite a person. By his presence,Darby made Notre Dame more human; hewas a reminder of the homes that students had left and sometimes longed for. It was easy to find the dog endearing. Griffin humanized the place as well; it was easy to find him lovable. One signal of the affectionate response came from the Glee Club, which made Griffin its chaplain and took him on their tours here and abroad. Another was the regularity with which students and alumni asked Griffin to preside at their marriages. Griffin was, however, more than a character whose eccentricities inspired the affection of the campus.

He was a serious minister of the Gospel, who took his priesthood as a vocation so deep and vital that it animated everything he did. He was constantly trying to find ways to minster to those who, like himself,were insignificant in the world''s eyes and,sometimes, in Notre Dame''s eyes. Though he loved both the world and Notre Dame, he knew the worth and dignity of those human persons whom the powerful treated, often unthinkingly, as inconsequential. He sought in every pastoral situation to temper the wind, as he puts it in these essays, to the shorn lamb. (Excerpted from Intrduction).