The Catholic musician talks about his faith, his inspirations and his calling
He smiled.
It was just like him.
You see, if you get to know Connor, you will quickly be greeted by a spreading, winsome grin that can light up a room. Joy emanates from him. But in short order — when you meet his eyes — you encounter a jarring intensity born of hunger, of deep conviction and of abiding faith. Beneath the smiling shallows stir even deeper waters.
This combination of joy and almost pained intensity — this paradox that is Connor Flanagan — found its beginnings on a 7-acre farm in Richfield, Ohio. The second oldest of five children, Connor recalls his childhood on the farm as idyllic. Memories of getting lost in the woods with his siblings, shooting endless baskets through a hoop on the barn wall and skinning countless knees on the makeshift volleyball court conjure up nostalgia in this still young man. “It was the perfect place to raise kids,” Connor remembered.
Connor’s mother, a special education teacher by training, ran the farm as a rescue operation for abused or abandoned farm animals. What began as an effort at recovery for unfortunate farm animals left behind soon became a sought-after sanctuary for beloved pets and livestock (from other struggling farmers) to graciously live out their remaining days. His father was a Navy man turned commercial United Airlines pilot whose infectious enthusiasm for his work found him warmly greeting boarding passengers (before anyone ever even saw pilots), crafting and passing out airline trading cards to adoring children and even buying meals for passengers inconvenienced by unavoidable delays. His keen commitment to personal care landed him national recognition after a reporter from the Wall Street Journal was awestruck by his onboard experience with the affable pilot. In due time, Connor’s father made appearances on The Today Show and Good Morning America and soon became an organizational spokesman on customer service: speaking on vacation, of course, because his passengers needed him. Connor describes his father as “the most honest, hard-working man I know.”
Connor’s household was deeply loving and devout in its Catholicism. And his mother was at the heart of it. Fresh picked flowers graced the kitchen table on feast days. Small written prayer notes would greet bleary-eyed children on bathroom mirrors in the mornings. Baptismal days were celebrated like birthdays. “I was immersed in small joys of faith,” Connor remembers. “I knew no other option because I never needed one.”
Connor attended Catholic schools (Assumption Academy and St. Ignatius High School) for his formative years of education. And though Catholicism was the air he breathed at home and in school, it was a biography of his high school’s namesake, Ignatius of Loyola, that transformed him. Though Connor was comfortably regarded as a successful student and standout basketball player, it was the founder of the Society of Jesus who opened his eyes to the depth of his own Catholic identity. “St. Ignatius gave me anchor. As a high school boy seeking purpose, [Ignatius’ story] really resonated.” Before long, Connor was serving in campus ministry, attending and participating in weekly Mass and taking on leadership roles during retreats. “The Lord guided me through that time. He had a huge hand. There was never a doubt between the things of this world and the things of the spiritual world.”
Franciscan University of Steubenville, a small Catholic school of several thousand two hours south of Cleveland, would next lay claim to Connor Flanagan. Though he briefly considered a call to the priesthood (particularly the Society of Jesus), he ultimately felt drawn to major in business/marketing and play basketball. However, his faith deepened thanks to taking residence in the campus household dubbed Lion of Judah. By immersing himself in weekly Mass and the Rosary, sacramental living and Ignatian spiritual exercises with a group of like-minded men, Connor would develop lifelong friendships with his housemates and a lasting devotion to Christ. “It changed my life. I’ve never experienced such authentic brotherhood,” Connor recalled.
But while Connor excelled at academics and athletics and found himself deepening in his relationship with God, there was a gift, a calling, a means by which he better wanted to provide witness to the glories of the Faith.
That calling was music.
