The youngest of nine, future bishop was surrounded by Catholic influences

DETROIT — It’s not uncommon for a young Catholic boy to play Mass at home with dreams of one day becoming a priest.

But using white bread, an Easy Bake oven and shot glasses to make those perfect, circular substitute communion wafers seem all the more real? That’s taking things to the next level.

For a young Gerard Battersby, that was just another typical day growing up on the east side of Detroit with his siblings; the oldest of nine, Brian, was 13 years older than Gerry, who was the youngest (by five minutes) along with his twin brother, Chris.

The Battersbys always had priests and nuns over for dinner in their two-flat home that also housed Bishop Battersby’s grandparents, who made a habit of praying the Stations of the Cross and sorrowful mysteries of the rosary each afternoon. Chris Battersby Sr., the children’s father, worked as a cigarette salesman when the children were young, and their mother, Helen, worked at Marygrove College and St. Benedict Parish, where the family attended Mass.

Such a dynamic led to parish life and family life being one and the same in many cases. It wasn’t uncommon see a Sister of St. Joseph, for example, move her habit out of the way while calling a corner-pocket shot on the family’s billiards table.

“Growing up, we didn’t realize how Catholic we were,” said Brendan Battersby, sixth in the family lineup. “All our friends and relatives, were Catholic. We would have priests over for dinner all the time. I remember in junior high a girl invited me to her church, and suddenly I realized not everybody was Catholic. With seven of nine of the kids being boys, one was bound to become a priest.”

Living among seven siblings — Bishop Battersby’s older brother Kerry died in 1952, eight years before he was born — there was always action at the Battersby home.

In comparison to his twin, Gerry was described as “the quiet one,” noted instead for his wit and contemplation.

“Gerry is a lot funnier than we all realize,” the younger Chris Battersby said. “When Gerry’s not in the group, he’s the funniest person in the room. It’s just in our family he seemed more reserved, listening to what everyone else had to say.”

As the babies of the family, Gerry and Chris were subjugated to having several “auxiliary” mothers and fathers, their siblings say.

“When Gerry and Chris were born, Patti and I were nine,” said Teresa Racey, the fourth-oldest in the family. “They were like our baby dolls. We were excited to have real-life baby dolls to play with. Growing up, we didn’t really have a need for kindergarten, because the kids were all here. Only Brian (as the oldest) and Chris and Gerry went.”

In a large family, it was difficult to get a word in. Gerry and Chris were the youngest in the group, usually grouped with their brother Edmund, who was two years older. Together, the group was dubbed “The Little Ones,” or sometimes, “The Gladiators.”

“We were pretty much normal brothers,” Chris said. “We fought, then two minutes later, go throw around a ball. Terri and Patti (the two girls in the family) were always there, like part-time moms, helping us even now.”

Being in such a large family, Ed described home life as like “living with your friends,” with someone always in the yard to play basketball.

“You had older kids, kids into their teens before we ever got there,” Ed said. “We did everything together as a family, but then broke off into smaller groups for age-appropriate things. It was like living with your friends, we didn’t need to go to a friend’s house because it was all happening here.”

As the kids grew up, each started making their own path. After graduating from Lamphere High School, Gerry moved on to Marygrove College before studying at the University of Cork in Ireland through a study-abroad program hosted by the University of Detroit. Gerry eventually graduated from Wayne State University in 1982 with a plan to work in pharmaceuticals, but he always had another plan in the back of his mind, even if his siblings didn’t know it.

After a brief stint in pharmaceuticals, Gerry went into appraising, the profession of his father and four of his siblings, before starting to reveal his calling to the seminary.

“I didn’t think he decided to be a priest seriously until he was in the appraising business,” Theresa said. “I remember talking to him about it, having these long, theological discussions with him. They were extremely enjoyable, but I didn’t suspect he was thinking about becoming a priest. But when I found out, it didn’t surprise me.”

The Battersby family said there was no need for a formal announcement of his decision; his older brother Michael studied at the seminary and his uncle Ed, a priest of the archdiocese, also studied there.

“He would discuss with my late wife and I about taking classes at the seminary for his own formation as a Catholic adult,” said Michael Battersby, the fifth-oldest. “At first it was an informal thing, just him taking classes. Then from there it expanded to him wanting to continue to study, to become a priest.”

After Gerry broke the news, the family said they were supportive of his decision, noting how it seemed to “make sense.”

“Being his twin, it was surprising how the priesthood fit him so well,” Chris said. “It was something he was always meant to do.”
Since his ordination as a priest, Bishop Battersby has made it a habit of celebrating Mass with his family in their private homes, and performing sacramental duties for many of his 22 nieces and nephews.

Despite his rise to the episcopal ranks, he’s still called “Uncle Gerry” by his nieces and nephews, and his siblings refer to him as Gerry in private.

“Out of respect for what he does, all the joking we have with him is in private,” Brendan said. “Pride is the biggest thing we feel in the family about him becoming a bishop. I told him, ‘Gerry, I’m proud to be your brother.’ But the jokes will happen in private.”

When not celebrating Mass on the deck of a family member’s house, Bishop Battersby likes to join his family on vacation at Black Lake in northern Michigan or the family cottage in West Bloomfield. The Battersbys are used to hosting priests for long weekends, where formal titles such as “Father” are usually discarded in favor of informal décor.

“On vacation, he likes to mostly read and relax,” Brendan said. “He really likes going out to dinner, sitting by the campfire and enjoying a beer, just looking at the lake. One thing he’ll only do on vacation, he drives up to Gaylord and buys Captain Crunch; it’s his secret ‘guilty pleasure’ that he doesn’t tell many people about.”

Aside from secret bowls of Captain Crunch, Bishop Battersby’s family says he spends most of his time on vacation in prayer.

“The cottage in West Bloomfield and Black Lake are his favorite places to be,” Michael said. “He was always the quiet kid who loves a good time. He just loves being with his nieces and nephews; he’s used to being around large families.”

Being from such a large, and distinctively Catholic, family, the news of Bishop Battersby’s ordination wasn’t too much of a surprise to his siblings, but rather, a confirmation of what they’ve known about him for 57 years.

“We all have the right to be proud of Gerry,” Michael said. “We all had something to do with his formation, as he had something to do with all of our formations. He’ll be a pastor who knows how to minster to families, being used to this big, rowdy, ruckus of a family.”

Part of being a member of the “big ruckus” family means the playful jokes never let up, even after someone announces they’ve been selected by Pope Francis.

“My wife’s cousin is Bishop Bernard Harrington,” Michael said. “When I met Bishop Harrington to confirm my oldest son, he said two things about being a bishop: No. 1, no one tells you the truth again. No. 2, you’re never again going to have a bad meal.”

No matter the titles, or fancy dress, Bishop Battersby’s family still thinks of him as one of the “little ones” in the Battersby house, playing Mass and getting into fights with his twin.

“I remember how I found out the news, it was a text at 12:20 a.m. that night of the announcement,” Chris recalled. “It said, ‘I’m going to be made a bishop this morning.’ I put my phone away after reading the text message, went back to sleep and then thought, what!?”

“When he was ordained a priest, I got choked up. But being named a bishop, this is more about his accomplishments. This is Gerry’s day.”

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For more stories about the ordination and background of the Archdiocese of Detroit's new auxiliary bishops, Bishop Robert Fisher and Bishop Gerard Battersby, check out The Michigan Catholic's special section.