In less than a month, I have had to bid farewell to another close friend who belonged to the Maltese clergy. I am here referring to Father Mario Agius or Dun Mario, as most of Paola residents knew him. The largest church of Malta was jam-packed with mourners wishing to pay their last respects to such a trustworthy priest. Many workers took leave to be present for the funeral service. Hundreds more, because they could not attend Mass, went to see him for the last time during the day as he lay in state at the Museum chapel.
If there are two things that Father Mario Agius cherished, these are his family and his pastoral duties. His parish became his extended family. As he grew older, he enjoyed discussing family histories with those he loved and trusted. And Dun Mario Agius had a great deal to recount. He knew each and every household in Paola, besides those in other parishes where he had served during his long career. Whenever we met at Id-Dar Tal-Kleru - the home for retired priests - on Saturday mornings, he recounted priceless anecdotes. I began collecting them and transformed them into essays. Some have already been published.
On the paternal side, Dun Mario was the elder son of ĠużeppiAgius, affectionately known as is-Sur Agius, the most famous pharmacist, living in Malta in the twentieth century. In his student days at university, ĠużeppiAgius suffered from Imperial arrogance and despotism because of his political views. Together with WenzinuMifsudBonnici, they were deliberately failed in their medicine course. Instead of dampening his spirit, Sur Agius became bolder in his principles of social justice and sought to instill them in all his children. Those were times when poverty was rife and many had nothing to eat or as we say in Maltese “ma kellhomxgħaxja ta’ lejla”. Who knows how much free advice and free medicine he gave to families in need.
His mother was a Dalli, whose father was an important master mason and a papier-mâché artist from Gudja. AnġluDalli, nicknamed is-Suffari, was responsible amongst others for the construction of the aisles ofŻurrieq parish church, the design and building of the facade of the Gudja church and important structural works inside the Tarxien parish church, which no architect at the time was capable of undertaking. Dun Mario was extremely proud of him. Dun Mario’s mother, Margherita, followed her maternal aunt into the teaching profession, becoming a teacher of geography and eventually headmistress. She was my grandmother’s best friend. My grandmother, Giovanna Mercieca nee Zammit, was teacher of Italian in the late tens and early twenties of the last century. Giovanna and Margherita were both at school together from childhood days and maintained their close friendship till death separated them. I still treasure the memory and respect shown by Dun Mario when my grandmother died. He made it a point to be present at her funeral Mass.
Dun Mario too had to experience the meaning of discrimination when he was still in his mother’s womb. When Margherita married, the ultra-Anglophile Director of Education, Albert Laferla, wanted to terminate her teaching contract. When Margherita defied his orders to resign and, in the meantime, got pregnant with Dun Mario and his twin brother, Laferla cried scandal! Her husband, Ġużeppi, had to go to court to safeguard her rights.
These and other family experiences remained embedded in Dun Mario’s memory. This explains why he always stuck his neck out when parishioners fell victim of discrimination or bigotry. He had two great mentors who taught him how to deal with such situations. These were Dun FranġiskXuereb and Dun Adolf Agius. Like his parents, these two former parish priests of Paola taught him to stand up for principles. And like wine, Dun Mario increased in stature and with age, he became bolder. He developed a personality that was capable of snubbing any adverse incompetence with just a waft.
Defending principles strengthened Dun Mario’s conviction in Eternity and helped him to translate this to an earthly meaning. He believed that his hometown church deserved only articles of good quality and he became seriously concerned when mediocrity slithered into Paola’s artistic modicum. It was his firm opinion that in Christian art, aesthetics and mediums should be instruments to last eternally.
He donated his wealth for the creation of artistic works particularly to Paola and Birgu parish churches. Most of the important silver decorations in possession of the Paola parish church are his brainchild. He paid for them and this prompted envy. And envy is the matrix of inferiority.
Encouraged by the former parish priest, Dun Adolf Agius, Dun Mario accepted new pastoral duties in Birgu, where he became a dedicated canon of the Church’s Collegiate Chapter. When a parishioner from Paola donated him a substantial sum of money, he did not keep it for himself but, with the approval of the benefactor, he used it for a number of silver vessels that are still in use in Birgu.
I am mentioning these details to defuse certain incorrect impressions that have been circulating recently that priests used to pocket the money they received from the faithful for their own personal benefit. True priests, like Dun Mario, re-invested the money they received for the good of their communities. At the same time, these initiatives were never undertaken at the expense of his pastoral duties and the help for others.
I also appreciated his vast knowledge of Latin and history of theological concepts. He would back his discussions with books in his library. Hopefully, thanks to the long and unending discussions that both Fr. Mario and I had together, and with help of the Latinist Joseph Debono, the Paola Parish Church will soon have a deserving inscription on its frontispiece.
If there is a proof how much he was loved and respected in Paola, this is his large collection of Maltese lace. He rarely bought a piece. The entire collection came from donations, mostly from Paola families, who had a priest. They donated these vestments as an expression of love and respect for his kindheartedness. He knew the background of each and every piece in his collection, including the person behind the bobbins or “ċumbini”. It is a great pity that the project to document these pieces, in particular the makers failed to materialize because of his premature death. These pieces were a labour of love; the works of mothers or sisters who were proud that a member of their family had joined the priesthood.
Dun Mario’s mother was a woman of great faith. He told me that his mother and another lady both prayed that one of their sons would dedicate himself to God. Both had their prayers answered. Apparently, Dun Mario got to know of this vow after becoming a priest when his mother was on the brink of death. His family never put pressure on him to become member of the local clergy. He attended the local Christian Doctrine organization or Mużew and went to the Lyceum where he received a sound education. He was one of the top students in class. His rival for the title of first in class was Professor SalvinoBusuttil!
There is a saying in Maltese, “il-qalbteħber” or “the intuition of the heart”. Just after last Easter, he confided to me his premonition that this years’ Paschal Candle would be the one to accompany him in his last voyage on earth. As always, he was right.
Some prefer to call you Dun Mar. I used to call you Dun Marin. Thank you Dun Mario for finding time to share with me your vast historical knowledge about Paola and Malta. As the Latin saying goes – “verbavolant, scriptamanent”. I will do my best to preserve as faithful as humanly possible your words and thoughts. For me, they are not only a source of guidance; they represent the history of a wider community. Behind your accounts rest the explanation why our hometown, RaħalĠdid, became one of Malta’s principal towns. Thanks to your persona and good deeds, your memory will last forever.