Gregory K. Hillis, executive director of Candler’s Aquinas Center for Theology, died on October 8 after being diagnosed with cancer in late 2023. Assistant Dean of Methodist Studies Brett Opalinski shares this remembrance.
In Revelations of Divine Love, the fourteenth century English mystic, Julian of Norwich, while facing grave illness, wrote:
“I understood that we are now, as our Lord intends it, dying with him on his cross in our pain and our passion; and if we willingly remain on the same cross with his help and his grace until the final moment…and we shall be with him in heaven. There will be no time between one moment and the next, and everything will be turned to joy….”
The day Greg learned of his cancer diagnosis he reached out and asked if I could bring his copy of Julian’s writings to the hospital. In the early days of his journey with cancer, Greg read and meditated on Julian’s revelations and through them he experienced the nearness of God. What captured Greg in Julian’s writings even more than the promise that “all would be well,” was the knowledge that in Greg’s own suffering, Christ was suffering along with him.
Greg Hillis moved from Kentucky to become the executive director of the Aquinas Center in the summer of 2023, and so began his time at Candler School of Theology. Greg was originally from Alberta, Canada. He grew up in Rimbey but later moved to the mountains near Banff. He attended Rocky Mountain College, Calgary, and eventually earned a bachelor’s degree from the University of Waterloo, in Ontario. Greg’s doctoral studies were at McMaster University, near Toronto, where he earned a PhD after completing a dissertation on Cyril of Alexandria.
In 2007, Greg was received into the Roman Catholic faith and soon accepted a teaching position in historical theology at Bellarmine University, in Louisville, Kentucky. Greg was a beloved teacher who cared deeply for his students. Greg’s research interests focused on historical theology, particularly the monastic and contemplative traditions of Christianity.
Of particular importance to Greg, though, was the writer and monk, Thomas Merton. As Greg researched Merton, he developed a deep and lasting relationship with the Abbey of Gethsemani, including monks who had known and studied with Thomas Merton. He became widely respected by others studying Merton and quickly established himself as a known and respected scholar in the field.
In 2021, Greg’s book Man of Dialogue: Thomas Merton’s Catholic Vision was published, which situates Merton’s legacy squarely within the Catholic tradition that shaped him. Greg also wrote numerous articles for a non-academic audience grappling with the complexities of life and the intersection of a contemplative faith. His topics include everything from monastic life to baseball. You can find a link to many of his articles here.
In addition to Merton and historical theology, Greg was a fan and student of baseball. He saw it as a contemplative game and appreciated the slow rhythm. He used to talk about going to minor league games in Louisville and grading papers between innings. It was a space that helped him think. Over the last year, he (an avid Blue Jays fan) and I (an avid Red Sox fan) would watch games together on television or in the bleachers at his son’s high school game. Across the slow rhythms of the game were many deep and thoughtful conversations.
Greg was a kind, wise, and deep soul. He could embody both inner solitude and deep engagement with others. Greg developed a friendship with the poet and writer Wendell Berry, who recently said of Greg, “…his generosity was itself a light.”
Greg met his wife Kim while attending Rocky Mount College back in Calgary. They have been together since and have three children together: Isaac, Sam, and Leo. Greg found ways to engage with each of them through their individual interests and passions. Greg loved his family dearly. At the end he was more concerned about what they would experience through his death than his own sense of suffering.
Greg had only been at Candler a few months when he received a diagnosis of cancer. In an instant his world changed. Still, Greg refused to see cancer as a “battle,” rather it was a journey that was his to take. He continued to engage the world, reaching out to other writers like Neil King and Christian Wiman, who were both experiencing difficult health related journeys of their own. They developed a close bond, meeting regularly online or by phone. He also maintained deep friendships with graduate school and childhood friends.
In the final weeks, Greg shared that a great regret was not being able to be more a part of the Candler community. In even those first months before the diagnosis, he had come to value the friendship of many colleagues and wanted to get to know even more. He loved his role with the Aquinas Center and believed deeply in the work they were doing together.
In reflecting on Greg’s short journey in life and at Candler, the quality of his impact is measured more in depth than longevity. Even in a short time Greg built relationships that led people to a deeper way of being, from local priests and lay persons to colleagues at Candler to monks at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit. Greg’s presence was such that he will not be soon forgotten. Greg’s life was both a reminder and fulfillment of Thomas Merton’s well-known words, “We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through it all the time.”
Read Hillis’s obituary, and a tribute from America Magazine, where he was a frequent contributor.