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Born: 06 June 1920, Drumcondra, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 21 September 1939, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1953, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1956, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 04 June 2012, Melbourne, New South Wales, Australia

Left Society of Jesus: 01 April 1974

by 1969 at St Agnes San Francisco CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1970 at Hawthorn Melbourne, Australia (ASL)

Interfuse No 149 : Autumn 2012

THE MEMORY OF LESLIE BARBER

Pat Nolan

Earlier this year, when I visited with Leslie in Melbourne, he asked me to speak at his funeral Mass. Alas, I could not be there, so a friend, John Little, who spoke the eulogy, included this personal testimony for me. I loved Leslie. Words defy a description of how much I shall miss him.

Leslie Barber had a long, sustained and positive influence on my life and on the life of my dear wife Carmel. Carmel and I would sometimes say, “Leslie saved our marriage!” To be precise, this is not meant to convey that our marriage was in deep trouble when we first met dear Leslie in 1971. What Leslie did was to show us, and many others, how to be a more mature married couple in the Ireland of the 1970s. I have since described Leslie's intervention as “introducing us to our feelings”.

Suppression of feelings was part and parcel of that Ireland of almost two generations ago. Leslie, as the Jesuit Retreat Director at Milltown Park in Dublin, ran week-end -retreat/seminars for young married couples which he titled "Hope-Ins" (the name influenced, no doubt, by his sojourn in California in the late 1960s). In these sessions he set out to legitimise our feelings for us, to get us in touch with our own stories in an honest, transparent fashion and then, when we felt the time was right and we were comfortable, to share the appropriate parts of our stories with others. He introduced us to the concept of the growth of trust in a group and how that would both facilitate our sharing while at the same time, and through this process, enable us to take ownership of our psychological history, our current state and, subsequently, our futures. For these reasons the primary sentiment I have towards Leslie is one of profound gratitude for such an everlasting gift. Thank you, Leslie!

Leslie Barber was a free spirit, which is why I loved him. He had a reverence for and an appreciation of the word in all of its purity and in the many manifestations of its utterance; poetry, cadence, metaphor and rhythm in relation to words were really important to him. He loved the sounds of words and never tired of repeating that love. He deeply mourned the apparent “passing of the King James Bible”. For Leslie, the word of God was primarily transmitted through sound and then through cadence and metaphor. In that sense, to present Leslie Barber as counter-cultural is an under-statement.

We have a saying in Ireland to describe someone as, “having a way with words”. Leslie Barber personified that saying. Words for him were like precious jewels and he did not wish to waste any of them; he was always careful and most deliberate in his choice of words. To describe Leslie as a free spirit is also to suggest that he was something of a “one-off”; and he was. He certainly did not fit any particular mould or type. Inevitably, this can have painful consequences and Leslie was no stranger to those. The Jesuit Order, as a significantly effective worldwide faith institution operating at a number of levels in promoting the Kingdom of God, may be noted for embracing many diverse opinions within its ranks. It accommodated Leslie Barber, and had the privilege of his presence, for thirty-three years. Some of those years were painful for him, notably those leading up to his departure. Given his 'free character traits and his way of using words; it was only a matter of time before Leslie clashed with authority, which he managed to do on more than one continent!

Leslie left the Jesuits in 1972, a year after we met (there is no known connection between these two events!). In the few years immediately after his exit from the Order I witnessed him at his best.

The manner in which he dealt with such a fundamental change in the Fection of his life was just outstandingly courageous. He performed the most menial and the humblest of tasks in order to make a living. In adversity Leslie showed his true mettle. Of course, dear Patricia became the anchor of his life at this time and they married in 1974. They were an extraordinary couple. I am privileged to have had them as close friends for many years, especially since they went to Australia 2003.

Patricia has been a loving and devoted wife to Leslie over all hose years, meeting his every need with such great tenderness and Commitment. Theirs is a wonderful love story which mirrored all of those excellent qualities of a married relationship which Leslie spoke about to us young married couples at Milltown Park in Dublin all those years ago.

There is a sense in which I don't want to, and cannot, say good bye to Leslie. There is something permanent about his influence on me; a depth to it that I struggle to identify with words. It is as if when I strip away all the foibles, the mannerisms, the human failings and the unusual characteristics, with Leslie I am left with this beautiful shining gem of integrity, of honesty, a transparent naivety, an attractive vulnerability, a certain stillness and silence at his core that was - maybe – the image, the likeness of God?
Requiescat in Pace

Interfuse No 149 : Autumn 2012

AN APPRECIATION OF LESLIE BARBER

Colm Brophy

In 1966, as juniors, Leslie gave us a triduum. He began one talk on a drowsy afternoon - when we were more interested in eating food and playing football than what he might say – with an explosive quote from T.S. Eliot. He chopped it out with his inimitable diction: “After cake and tea and ices, let us force the moment to its crisis”. He followed this with a riveting story of lust, sensuality and frustrated feelings which made us sit up and take note like no one else had ever done.

Later, in 1972, Leslie led weekend retreats for teenagers in Tabor House with help from us theologians. He was ahead of his time. Before the term “emotional intelligence” was invented, before “mindfulness” was in vogue, before the senses' in Ignatian spirituality had blossomed, before the twentieth century had melted the heart into the head, he challenged “reason' as the only god of theology and the secular world. He threw the cultural revolution of the sixties onto our religious doorstep. His Tabor encounter groups were not in fact called retreats. He sharpened our spirits by not allowing us to fall into dead religious language. In preparing us (theologians) to facilitate our small encounter groups of five or six teenagers, he insisted again and again that the only question we were to ask in the group was, “what are you feeling RIGHT NOW?” Untrained and uncertain, we were quickly out of our depth with the powerful dynamic of such a question.

Leslie had the wonderful gift of awakening people from the dead. May he rest in peace and may he awake.

Edward John Boyd-Barrett

Born: 29 October 1883, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1904, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1917, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1923, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 14 August 1966, Santa Clara Jesuit Informary, Santa Clara CA, USA

Left Society of Jesus: 16 June 1925

Edward John Boyd-Barrett

Educated at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1908 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1921 at St Ignatius College Tottenham London (ANG) studying
by 1925 at Georgetown University, Washington DC, USA (MARNEB)

◆ The Clongownian, 1967

Obituary

Father Edward Boyd-Barrett (former SJ)

Even if we discount the nostalgia that remembered youth so often arouses, it is difficult for an old Clongownian of the last years before the First World War to look back on them and not find himself murmuring: “Ichabod, for the glory is departed”. And it is not really the last sunlit days of the centenary, the leaders of Church and State, the flags and speeches and feasting which remains primarily in the memory of a great time. It is the people, the masters and boys of that generation : “troops of grey ghosts in the corridors calling”, that make it a time to remember with pride and gratitude.

Even in such company Fr Edward Boyd Barrett was an outstanding personality. He had been a boy at Clongowes for five years, but he was to be a master there for only the comparatively short period of three years, 1911-14. They were indeed full years in his life. In the first place he was an outstanding teacher of boys : colourful, dramatic, methodical, straightforward, never subtle, never dull. He taught English and History to all the honours classes, and the least part of his achievement was the success of his pupils in the examination results. In fact he never referred to exams, nor slanted his treatment of a subject to ensure good answering. That in his last year his pupils, in each grade that he taught, got first place in both subjects, and on one occasion nine out of ten of the top places, is a remarkable and verifiable fact. And if the good teacher's work is not just to impart knowledge, but to rouse and foster talent, he did that in such a way as to win lifelong gratitude from scores of men, widely differing in character and ability.

But he was not just a teacher. His good looks, his skill at games, his eloquence, his gift for friendship made him a natural leader. The long walks of by-gone play-days were to places of interest : Connolly's Folly, the Hill of Lyons, the Taghadoe Round Tower. And as they walked, he kept a whole class spellbound with imaginary adventures of the European “underground”. Social reform was in the air, but the wind of change blew lightly and fitfully in Clongowes at that time. He organised the first Social Study Club, with an admirably mixed programme of theoretical and practical work for its members, a small but enthusiastic leaven in the school. Before joining the Jesuits he had worked as a layman in Vincent de Paul circles, and he now called on old friends to help him educate his boys. Under that guidance they visited such institutions as the Seaman's Institute, the Night Shelter, and the Dublin Union Hospitals; and they helped regularly with the first of all Dublin Boys Clubs, that run by Dr Lombard Murphy in William Street.

To this practical work was added elementary theoretical study. There was as yet in those days no Social Science course on the Religious Knowledge curricula; but the club formed a little library of its own, and discussions and papers were the principal term activities. During the centenary celebrations a special meeting was held at which, in the presence of the cardinal and half a dozen bishops, Fr Eddie Coyne, then the club's secretary, gave the first of what was to be a long series of talks. From these activities sprang the Clongowes Boys Club; and an essential liaison with Dr Murphy brought to Belvedere as his heir the Newsboys Club.

Under Fr Boyd Barrett's direction the debates were important events, to which distinguished visitors came, such as the brothers Larry and Tom Kettle. And, if Gaelic Ireland was as yet a closed book to him as to most of his pupils, there was no doubting that he was himself proud of Ire land's heroic past, and hopeful of its future to a degree not easily matched in this age of disillusionment. He never returned to his old school, but he never forgot the boys to whom he had given his best years, and given also understanding, appreciation and even admiration. Fifty years later, when he was a continent away, he corresponded with more than one of them, and he is remembered today by scores of them with gratitude and affection.

To his nephews, three of whom were at Clongowes, we offer our sincere condolences on his death.

MB

History Ireland Vol 28 No 4 https://www.historyireland.com/the-boyd-barretts-and-the-new-irish-state/

The Boyd Barretts and the new Irish state : Privilege and change in the Catholic middle class

by Colum Kenny

One was a controversial Jesuit psychologist who left the priesthood and married but later recanted. One was a surgeon who served in the British Army but then canvassed for Sinn Féin. And the third joined the new Electricity Supply Board, his son becoming architect of the first major government building designed in independent Ireland.

These Boyd Barrett brothers are a metaphor for the conflicted modernity that marked the Irish state’s inception. From a solid middle-class background, Joe, Edward and James Charles embraced change - up to a point. Their grandfather, James Barrett, had been a barrister and justice of the peace who died in 1880, bequeathing the family Terracina, a fine house in Kingstown. Their father died in 1884, in his thirties, leaving his widow to rear three children aged under four.

The boys were far from the poverty of inner-city Dublin, as Edward later recalled. He wrote that Terracina:-

… was a large redbrick house with chestnut trees and elders in front and a gravelled drive. There were outhouses at each side and a large garden in the rear. The rooms were lofty with fine marble mantelpieces, and furnished in old mahogany. There were portraits and busts and a library of classical books, gathered by my grandfather …

Ring-doves in cages hung in a porch. In the garden were fruit trees and glasshouses for flowers, and a lawn for tennis. A pet donkey grazed at large while a stable housed the family’s chestnut horse, in the care of a coachman. These were privileged Irish Catholics.

The Boyd Barretts had a private tutor who prepared them for their education at Clongowes Wood, the Jesuit boarding school in County Kildare. In 1898 its pupils elected Joe, a keen sportsman, as their captain. He went on to study at the Catholic University Medical School in Dublin (later part of UCD when the National University of Ireland was created in 1908). He was a founder, and in 1903 captain, of its soccer club. A 1930 history of UCD reveals that Bohemians wanted four of the team’s best players, including Joe: ‘It is pretty certain that if Barrett had accepted our [college] Club would have gone to pieces’. His fellow students elected him to edit news from the medical school for the university’s St Stephen’s Magazine, which in late 1901 had rejected an article by the student James Joyce because it included mention of a volume on the Vatican’s Index of Prohibited Books.

Joe’s views on society hardened as he began to work as a doctor with children, becoming a surgeon in Temple Street Children’s Hospital. In 1911 he presented a paper to a public health congress in Dublin on the results of his investigations into the medical inspection of schoolchildren. In 1912 he said that ‘Ireland was the only country in which there was no state provision for the feeding of necessitous children, though no place required it more’. In 1913 he delivered a lecture outlining the desperate poverty of children in Dublin and calling for more children’s hospital beds and other measures to relieve it. He said that the State had failed the child. Speaking in 1915, he said that, ‘in addition to the medical work in the hospital, it was absolutely necessary to do something for the clothing of poor children’.

Joe served in France with the British Royal Army Medical Corps, but in 1914 he also ‘took a prominent part’ in the gunrunning at Howth by the Irish Volunteers. The fighting in Dublin in 1916 had a big impact on Temple Street hospital, and the British reaction to the rebellion further radicalised Boyd Barrett, as it did many other Irish people. Joe now associated publicly with the Sinn Féin movement and many leading figures of that period met at his home. Becoming a close personal friend of Arthur Griffith, he was acquainted with Michael Collins too.

In 1917 Joe wrote for Griffith’s weekly Nationality paper what the editor of the Nenagh Guardian described as ‘a remarkable article on Irish manufactures’. He also actively canvassed for Sinn Féin, speaking, for example, in 1917 on a platform with Arthur Griffith and Seán Milroy at Manorhamilton, Co. Leitrim, and a week later with John O’Mahony at what was advertised as a ‘monster meeting’ at Goresbridge, Co. Kilkenny, and in 1918 at Cootehill, Co. Cavan. During 1918 Arthur Griffith’s son, ‘under the care of Surg[eon] Boyd Barrett’, had a successful operation at the Children’s Hospital. On 29 July 1921 Dáil Éireann appointed Boyd Barrett one of its department of local government inspectors, and he fulfilled those duties eagerly for years.

Joe was an amateur artist. The British Medical Journal reported that he executed ‘some admirable works in oils, after paintings by Sir Thomas Lawrence and Giuseppe Ribera’. It is said that he completed a portrait of Arthur Griffith and another of Kevin O’Higgins. There is a sketch of Griffith in the National Library signed simply ‘JB’. Dated 4 July 1922, it is said to be ‘the last drawing’ made of Griffith before his death. It was published without attribution on 16 February 1923 in the new United Irishman.

During these difficult years Joe’s brother Edward (also known as ‘Jack’) got into trouble with his Jesuit superiors for his views. They postponed his final vows because he criticised the Irish hierarchy for cowardice in the face of Britain imperialism. He later claimed that the War of Independence might have been avoided had the bishops been more supportive of Sinn Féin, which he saw as ‘essentially a pacifist movement relying on moral force’. He is also said to have expressed opposition to the Anglo-Irish Treaty.

His Jesuit superiors were already concerned about his views on psychology and his attitude to discipline, and began to censor his work on psychotherapy and psychoanalysis. His book Strength of will, published in the USA in 1915, had been based partly on his dissertation, completed in Belgium. The poet Joyce Kilmer reviewed it favourably for the New York Times.

There was a possibility in 1924 that Edward would be appointed to a senior position at University College Galway, and the editor of Studies took up the matter with their Jesuit provincial on his behalf, but Edward’s superiors instead sent him to teach sociology (not psychology) at Georgetown University in Washington, DC. Once he was there, the prestigious Jesuit publication America began to publish articles by him on psychology. It stopped as a result of pressure from the Jesuit authorities in Ireland. An invitation from Fordham University to deliver lectures also met with opposition. Today, Edward’s unorthodox and challenging opinions are again receiving scholarly attention.

Recalled to Ireland, Edward instead left the Jesuits. He was to describe graphically his personal crisis then. Estranged from his church, he set himself up in New York as a psychoanalyst and married Anna O’Beirne, with whom he had a son. He wrote books, some critical of the church, and in one hinted at child abuse by Irish priests. He also completed a romantic novel about Shane O’Neill, returning to Ireland for two years in 1932 to conduct research for this.

Edward eventually reconciled with the Jesuits. He attributed this to the prayers of his recently deceased brother, James Charles. The latter had tried his hand at stockbroking but later found work in the pioneering ESB. James Charles’s son Rupert became a well-known Cork architect, who in 1935 won the competition for the design of the building on Kildare Street in Dublin that is home to the Department of Industry and Commerce.

The story of the Boyd Barrett brothers is a story of transition, illustrating how one middle-class Catholic family negotiated the social and cultural changes that saw the emerging Irish state struggle to stand on its own two feet.

Colum Kenny is Professor Emeritus of Communications at Dublin City University.

FURTHER READING

E. Boyd Barrett, The Jesuit enigma (New York, 1927).
E. Boyd Barrett, The magnificent illusion (New York, 1930).
Paula M. Kane, ‘Confessional and couch: E. Boyd Barrett, priest-psychoanalyst’, in K. Roberts SJ & S. Schloesser SJ (eds), Crossings and dwellings (Leiden, 2017).

Born: 15 July 1922, Portlaoise, County Laois
Entered: 07 September 1939, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1953, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1956, Loyola, Tai Lam Chung, Hong Kong

Left Society of Jesus: 1970

Transcribed: HIB to HK - 03 December 1966

by 1948 at Yim Yuan, Paak Chue Lo, Tungshan, Canton, China (Hong Kong) - Regency, learning language
by 1964 at Fordham NY, USA (NEB) studying

Born: 11 August 1868, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 08 October 1890, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 01 August 1897, St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin

Left Society of Jesus: 19 February 1928

Older brother of Henry Gill - RIP 1945

by 1895 at Enghien Belgium (CAMP) studying

Born: 11 June 1930, Fairview, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1948, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1962, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1965, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 2007, Edgworthstown, County Longford

Left Society of Jesus: 1995

by 1974 at Rome, Italy (DIR) sabbatical
by 1993 at Glasgow, Scotland (BRI) working

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr Val Mac Lochlainn (1930-2007) : former Jesuit

Paul Andrews (Interfuse Obituarist) writes:
Because Val died as a married man, in Edgeworthstown in August 2007, we never had an obituary of him in Interfuse. That was an oversight, because he was an Irish Jesuit for 47 years, and remained a close friend after he left the Society in 1995. What follows is a memoir put together with the help of Tom McGivern in Zambia,

Val's education took him from “Joey's” CBS in Fairview through Emo, UCD (BA in Latin and Irish), philosophy in Tullabeg, theology in Milltown and tertianship in Rathfarnham. He then taught for two years in the Crescent, and three in Galway, where he had done his Regency. There followed four years in Gardiner Street church, a sabbatical in Rome, and then the work for which he is probably best remembered, nine years as National Promoter for the Christian Life Communities. There were 310 CLC groups in Ireland, and Val worked assiduously to encourage them all. When he left the job in 1983 he wrote in his CV of “mental exhaustion resulting from over zealous commitment to study while at secondary school”.

At the age of 53 he volunteered for Zambia, and he worked there for seven years, mostly in Charles Lwanga Teacher Training College. He suffered greatly from the fact that his mother had fallen into dementia, and in 1981 had to be put into a home; she died in 1988.

For Val the 1990s were years of uncertainty. He returned to Ireland in 1990, and while working as a priest - mostly in Scotland - he went through a period of painful discernment, with strong help from his Irish Jesuit director. In 1995 he decided to leave the Society and the priesthood. Through the remaining twelve years of his life, in England and Ireland, he stayed in close contact with Jesuit friends, especially Michael O. Gallagher who now holds Val's old post in CLC. Val married an old friend in 2000, and contributed energetically to the parish of Edgeworthstown where they lived.

Val was a good man, a zealous priest, a brilliant footballer who might well have made the Dublin team, a cherished husband, and, above all, a searcher. May he rest in peace, having reached his goal.

Born: 23 January 1910, Sandymount, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 02 September 1929, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 13 May 1942, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 23 March 1945,
Died: 24 April 1982, New Jersey, NJ, USA

Left Society of Jesus: 1957/8

Transcribed: HIB to ASL 05 April 1931

by 1950 at Ricci Hall Hong Kong (HIB) working

Born: 23 July 1921, Ballylongford, County Kerry
Entered: 07 September 1939, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1954, Leuven, Belgium
Final Vows: 02 February 1957, Leuven, Belgium
Died: 27 July 1999, New York, NY, USA

Left Society of Jesus: 15 May 1965

Pseudonym: Michael Serafian

https://www.dib.ie/biography/martin-malachi-brendan-a5484

Martin, Malachi Brendan

Contributed by
Maume, Patrick

Martin, Malachi Brendan (1921–99), priest and writer, was born 23 July 1921 at Ballylongford, Co. Kerry, the fourth of ten children of Conor John Martin, gynaecologist, and his wife Katherine (née Fitzmaurice). Three of his four brothers became priests, including F. X. Martin (qv) OSA, historian, and Conor Martin (1920–80), professor of politics and ethics at UCD. Martin was educated at Ballylongford national school and Belvedere College. In 1939 he joined the Jesuit order as a scholastic (novice). He studied at UCD, took doctorates in Semitic and Oriental languages and archaeology at the University of Louvain, and was ordained on 15 August 1954. He travelled in the Middle East and published a book on the scribal character of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Between 1958 and 1964 Martin worked at the Jesuit-run Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. During the first two sessions of the second Vatican council (1962–4) he associated with theologically liberal bishops and commentators, acting as a source for the New York Times and for Robert Kaiser, Rome correspondent of Time. In 1964 Martin published The pilgrim under the pen-name ‘Michael Serafian’; in it he described intrigues surrounding the council's decree Nostra aetate, which formally denied that the Jews were collectively guilty of deicide, and later claimed credit for the decree's ratification. Kaiser claimed that The pilgrim was largely fantasy.

In 1964 Martin left Rome and was subsequently released from his vows as a Jesuit; he claimed that he retained priestly faculties, reporting only to the pope. According to his own account he had resigned from his order after realising that new developments were undermining the catholic faith, whereas Kaiser states that he fled after the exposure of his affair with Kaiser's wife Mary. (Martin had responded to Kaiser's initial suspicions by persuading friends that the journalist needed psychiatric treatment.) In 1965 Martin moved to New York. Kaiser claimed that Martin's family in Dublin were subsequently approached by four women (one of them Mary Kaiser) and a man, each of whom believed that Martin had left the priesthood for them. On his arrival in New York Martin allegedly worked as a taxi driver and restaurant dishwasher while building a new career as a writer on church-related subjects. He wrote for the conservative weekly National Review and occasionally published articles in the New York Times. He eventually took up residence in a Manhattan apartment with Kakia Livanios, the former wife of a Greek shipping tycoon; Martin claimed their relationship was innocent.

In his writings Martin aligned himself with discontented traditionalist catholics, making conflicting statements on the validity of the revised liturgy. Hostage to the devil (1976) offered a typology of exorcism through five anonymous case studies: the subjects of these studies were said to have been possessed through sexual perversion (described in prurient detail) but were freed by exorcisms in which the priests involved suffered severe injuries. Appearing soon after the book and film The Exorcist, Martin's Hostage popularised exorcism among American protestants as well as catholics. Martin appeared frequently on television talk shows as an expert on exorcism, displaying considerable charm. In 1996 he claimed to have participated in eleven exorcisms, and a traditionalist friend claimed that Martin performed monthly exorcisms until his death. He also claimed a supernatural gift of discerning demonic possession, and saw Satan in his apartment. Martin's admirers thought him an instrument of the archangel Michael, risking life and health in a personal battle with Satan, but his claims were questioned even by theologically conservative catholic demonologists.

Martin wrote numerous best-selling novels and works of non-fiction describing alleged politico-religious intrigues within the Vatican; he claimed that his information (including detailed descriptions of secret meetings and references to the pope's private thoughts) came from old friends in Rome. His books reflected the fears and anguish of people who believed that they were witnessing the desecration of what they held sacred in the face of silence or even connivance on the part of church authorities. Martin portrayed a world shaped by direct conflict between Jesus and Satan, in which well-meaning liberals, who diluted catholicism in the interests of universalist humanitarianism, allowed agents of Satan to pervade church and state. His books insinuate that the author knows more and worse than he can say. Martin told admirers that his novels were ‘80% true’, but did not specify the provenance of the remaining 20 per cent.

Martin's treatment of individual popes combines lavish praise with vicious innuendo. At times he attributed the corruption of the Vatican to the failure of John XXIII in 1960 to reveal the ‘third secret of Fatima’ (the third part of the revelation allegedly made by the Virgin Mary to three children in 1917); Martin claimed to have seen the prophecy under a vow of secrecy – he frequently hinted at the imminence of the apocalypse. Elsewhere he accused Pius XII of passive collaboration with the Nazis. His novel The final conclave (1978), inspired by Vatican banking scandals, accuses popes since Pius IX of making compromises with masonic bankers. At times he suggested that the church had been corrupt since the age of Constantine. From 1990 he claimed that the Vatican had been clandestinely consecrated to Satan by paedophilic episcopal Satanists, and that Antichrist was alive (possibly in the person of Mikhail Gorbachev.) In his last novel, Windswept house (1997), John Paul II is simultaneously an inspiring figure of radiant holiness and a cowardly temporiser whose pusillanimous abandonment of the faithful constitutes mortal sin. Martin hints that traditionalist splinter groups are secretly favoured by a pontiff too feeble to outmanoeuvre the Roman bureaucracy, and that they will soon constitute the true church facing a Satanist on the throne of St Peter.

Martin's portrayal of papal corruption and demonic conspiracies found many non-catholic readers. Protestant exorcists pursuing ‘Roman Catholic demons’ acknowledged his inspiration; Ian Paisley (qv) quoted him; conspiracy theorists and paranormalists adapted his claims. On the late-night radio show hosted by Art Bell, Martin suggested that African witch doctors might do God's work and counselled listeners claiming to be werewolves.

In later life Malachi Martin suffered several heart attacks. He died 27 July 1999 at New York of intracranial bleeding after a fall. Admirers saw later church scandals as his vindication; one alleged seer purveyed messages from ‘St Malachi Martin’. Even after the appearance of Kaiser's memoir, Martin retained many devotees. The secret of his influence was that he exploited his readers’ experiences and fears, reinforcing his influence by his alleged insider status; the demons he described came from within.

Two characters in Windswept house are based on Martin's version of his life story – a young American priest gradually discovering the corruptions of the Vatican bureaucracy, and an older Irish religious superior and exorcist, who is marginalised by his modernist confreres and ends as an ‘independent’ priest clandestinely authorised by the pope. Versions of the Martin–Kaiser affair are reportedly to be found in the novels Naked I leave by Michael Novak and Connolly's life by Ralph McInerney.

Sources
St Michael's Sword (Oct. 1997–Aug. 1998); obituary, Ir. Times, 7 Aug. 1999; Robert Blair Kaiser, UI (New York, 2002); review of Robert Blair Kaiser, Clerical error (2002), The Observer, 17 Mar. 2002; Michael W. Cuneo, American exorcism: expelling demons in the land of plenty (2001); http://www.starharbor.com/malachi/ (accessed 12 Feb. 2003); http://www.unitypublishing.com.newswire/fiore4.html; http://www.ianpaisley; www.cin.org/archives/cet.; www.theharrowing.com/martin.html; www.steamshovelpress.com/spiritualwickedness.html; www.themiracleofstjoseph.org/revs (foregoing websites accessed 10 Mar. 2003)

Interfuse No 104 : Spring/Summer 2000

THE ENIGMATIC MALACHI MARTIN

Michael Hurley

Many members of the Province will remember Malachi Martin who died on 27 July '99 as a fellow Jesuit, whose imagination could frequently run riot, who was always a rather enigmatic character. Others who did not know him may well have heard of him as an Irish ex-Jesuit or former Jesuit (to use today's more “ecumenical” language) who wrote of the Society in quite outrageous terms. This note has a two-fold aim: to recall some details of Malachi's life and to tell the Province something about the Mass celebrated for him at Belvedere on Saturday 2 October last.

Malachi was at school in Belvedere, as were his three brothers, FX, the Augustinian who died recently, and Conor and Bill who both pre-deceased him, the former a lecturer in politics in UCD, the latter Archbishop's secretary for many years. Malachi joined the Society in 1939 and after noviceship in Emo under Fr Neary spent four years in Rathfarnham (1941-1945), graduating from UCD with a degree in Oriental Languages. After philosophy in Tullabeg (1945-1948), he spent three years teaching in the Crescent and then went to Eegenhoven-Louvain where he was ordained a priest by Bishop, later Cardinal, Suenens on 15 August 1954. After tertianship in Rathfarnham he did doctorate studies at the University of Louvain and in 1958 the results of his work were published by the University in two volumes under the title of The Scribal Character of the Dead Sea Scrolls. This was the first of some fifteen books published by him.

After his doctorate studies Malachi went to teach at the Biblical Institute in Rome and during the first two sessions of the council [1962-1963] was universally regarded in Rome as a strong supporter of the so-called liberal wing of the council - so said the well-known American priest and intellectual, Mgr George Higgins, who knew him at the time ,writing in America 21 March 1987 (0.231). In particular Malachi supported Cardinal Bea in his various ecumenical initiatives, especially in his efforts to get a positive statement about the Jews from Vatican II. A strange, mysterious change however then took place and in June of 1964 Malachi disappeared from Rome, arrived in Dublin in July and on the 23rd of that month was granted an indult of exclaustration which forbade any exercise of the priestly ministry qualified exclaustration'). For the rest of that year he lived with one of his sisters in Dublin but said mass at the Benedictine hostel which then existed in Palmerston Park. As he still belonged to the Society, the 1965 Catalogus had him assigned to Manresa but degens extra domum, living outside the house. Early that year however, he left for New York where eventually he had his own apartment and was frequently visited by one of his sisters. Later that same year, on 15 May 1965, a Decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, in response to a request from himself, reduced him to the lay state' but the enigmatic Malachi had a private chapel in his New York apartment, said mass and built up an apostolate as a priest.

From 1965 on Malachi became notorious as a staunch traditionalist opposed to all that Vatican II said and did, and in particular to the post-Vatican II Society of Jesus. In 1987 he published The Jesuits: The Society of Jesus and the Betrayal of the Roman Catholic Church. America, the Jesuit periodical, invited Mgr George Higgins, the former acquaintance, if not friend, quoted above, to review the book, and in the course of a review article printed in the 21 March number he did not hesitate to write:

I regret to say that The Jesuits does precisely that (distorting the work of the church and its representatives) and does so with a degree of vengeance that has very few parallels, if any, I should think, in even the most irresponsible of the scores of anti-Jesuit books written during the past four centuries by avowed enemies of the Society... Martin's book is anything but fair and objective criticism. His 525-page attack on the Jesuits is downright savage in both style and substance and almost compulsively judgmental. It reeks of unfairness, bordering at times on hatred directed at distinguished members and leaders of the Society. (p.229)

In Mgr Higgins's view the real target is not the Society of Jesus, but the postconciliar church across the board with the Jesuits serving conveniently as a surrogate part for the whole'.(p.230) Malachi's ferocious antipathy to Vatican II and its aftermath only increased his fervour for pre-Vatican II ways. A close friend, an ex-Dominican, a Fr Charles Fiore, writing an obituary of Malachi in The Wanderer for 12 August 1999, praised him as a man of strong piety', singled out “his fervent love and devotion to the Blessed Eucharist and Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and to Our Lady of Fatima and her rosary, adding that :

Over his New York years he [Malachi] heard many Confessions, witnessed marriages, buried the dead, gave converts instructions, and by phone, letters, and occasional meetings, counseled [sic] hundreds.

A few weeks before his death the enigmatic Malachi told one of his sisters that I have always been a Jesuit in my heart'. His obsequies were conducted by a priest associated with the Society of St Pius X (followers of Archbishop Levebre) with full pre-Vatican II ceremonial.

On Saturday 2 October a requiem mass for Malachi was celebrated in the community chapel at Belvedere in the presence of his four surviving sisters and two of their husbands. In welcoming the visitors at the beginning, the Headmaster, Fr Leonard Moloney, one of the concelebrants, paid tribute to the Martin family, all the boys of which (Liam, Conor, Frank and Malachi) had been distinguished pupils of the school. A contemporary of Malachi and a fellow Kerryman , Fr Bill McKenna, who was also concelebrating, then spoke recalling among other things Malachi's mastery of languages, his irrepressibility, his fluency in speech, his vivid imagination, the affection in which his fellow scholastics held him. Being another contemporary and Malachi's companion during the four years of theology at Eegenhoven-Louvain, it fell to me to preside at the Mass and in my introduction I said:

Today is the ancient, traditional feast of the Guardian Angels, a feast which reminds us in a particular way of the mystery of God's providence in our world and in our daily lives and in Malachi's life in particular; so it seemed appropriate to take the prayers and readings of the day, adding a special prayer for Malachi. This I went on) is a gathering of the Martin family and of the Jesuit family, Malachi belonged to both our families: he was a Jesuit for a quarter of a century, from 1939 to 1964. We gather to say Mass: to give thanks for the gifts which both families have received from God, in particular to give thanks for Malachi who was an intellectual giant, in particular a linguistic genius but perhaps above all a charmer. We gather however not only for thanksgiving but for mutual forgiveness: to ask for and to offer forgiveness. Tensions and rifts can arise within families and between families. That happened in Malachi's case. As a result he felt he had to part company with the Jesuits. When there's a row it's rarely if ever that the faults are all on one side, anyway today is not a time for assigning blame. Malachi and the Jesuits hurt and offended each other and we are here to say sorry and to ask forgiveness from God and from each other and from Malachi for the ways in which we failed and hurt each other.

The readings for the feast-day were Exodus 23:20-23, Psalm 91 and Matthew 18:1-5 and in the course of my homily I said:

The first reading and the psalm remind us of the mystery of God's providence: God is a father and mother to us all,

watching over us, protecting us out of love for us. However in these days of ethnic cleansing and earthquakes and typhoons when the problem of evil is only too starkly obvious and it's not at all clear that God has the whole world in his hands, this saying about God's provident love ‘is hard and who can hear it, who can stomach it?' - that you may remember was the remark made by the disciples when according to the 6th chapter of the Fourth Gospel, Jesus spoke about the mystery of the eucharist... In particular the providential character of Malachi's own life, his departure from the Jesuits and his subsequent career is hard to accept: It is nothing less than a mystery and all we can say is: 'we believe, Lord, help our unbelief". The last verses of John's gospel may be relevant. Peter had made his apologies and been reconciled to Jesus for his triple denial and been invited to "Follow Me'. Peter saw John and said: 'Lord what about this man?' Jesus told him more or less to mind his own business and 'follow me'. Our vocation is to follow Jesus and not to be too preoccupied by the mystery of Malachi's life or anybody else's.

The gospel reading for today reminds us that to enter the Kingdom of heaven, or as Matthew puts it, the Kingdom of God, we must be childlike and the passage we heard sets us wondering again about what this childlikeness consists in. Childlikeness is certainly not childishness. Perhaps it is the way children are totally dependent on their parents. The gospel command to be childlike is perhaps a caution against being self-centred and self reliant, a reminder that, even though we can do all things in him who strengthens us, without him we can do nothing, that we must put all our trust in God not in ourselves. There is a definite Jesuit temptation to put your trust in yourself but the temptation affects everyone else too. Let us pray for each other that we overcome this temptation and come to rely not on ourselves alone but on God and each other and so be childlike and ready for the Kingdom.

In the Prayers of the Faithful, remembering that it was the Jewish Sabbath and how much Malachi had worked to overcome Arab-Christian resistance to a positive statement about the Jewish People from Vatican II, we included a reference to the progress in Jewish-Christian relations since then. After Mass Malachi's family joined the community for lunch and subsequently wrote moving letters of appreciation and thanks, for one of the most memorable and happy days that I personally experienced, one that will mark a special milestone in the annals of the family'. It was a moving event for the concelebrants also, a Jubilee occasion of forgiveness and reconciliation between the Martin family and the Jesuit family, a precursor of the Province Mass on the Feast of the Epiphany also at Belvedere.

Born: 07 January 1935, Carrick-on-Shannon, County Leitrim / Birr, County Offaly
Entered: 06 September 1952, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 1967
Died: 06 February 2013, Cherryfield Lodge, Milltown Park, Dublin (Priest of the Westminster Diocese, England)

Left Society of Jesus: 20 June 1966

Educated at Mungret College SJ

Priest of the Westminster Diocese, England

Funeral at Milltown Park, Dublin

Buried in Glasnevin Cemetary in the Jesuit burial plot.

Irish Jesuit News, February 20, 2013

Mourning Fr Ken McCabe

Fr. Ken McCabe (Westminster Diocese) died peacefully on the evening of Wednesday, February 6th. In recent years, a series of strokes left Ken struggling with severe health issues. Since 2010, he received wonderful nursing care from the team in Cherryfield Lodge. He had an unusual history, as Kevin O'Higgins recounts.

Ken had life-long links with the Irish Province. He was educated at Mungret College, and entered the Jesuit Novitiate in 1952. As a scholastic, he spent several years teaching in Belvedere College. During those years of Jesuit training, the plight of disadvantaged children became the main focus of his concern. In the mid-1960s, his efforts to sound the alarm about the mistreatment of children in Industrial Schools led to difficulties with both Church and State authorities. The upshot was that Ken departed from both Ireland and the Society. He was ordained to the priesthood for Westminster Diocese in 1967.

For the next 40 years, Ken devoted his energies to working on behalf of children from distressed families. He founded the Lillie Road Centre, which offered education and residential care to over 400 such young people. His final project was to establish a branch of this Centre in Edenderry, near Dublin.

During all those years in London, Ken maintained close links with many Irish Jesuits. Thanks to Fr. Joe Dargan’s decision to send novices to work with Ken on summer placements, those links transcended Ken’s own generation. It is wonderful that, in his final years, Ken returned to Milltown Park and the loving care of the nursing staff in Cherryfield. Fittingly, his mortal remains were laid to rest in the Jesuit burial plot in Glasnevin Cemetery. Ken was a great man, and a dedicated priest. May he rest gently in God’s love.

Interfuse No 151 : Spring 2013

Obituary

Fr Kenneth W (Ken) McCabe (1935-2012) : former Jesuit

Kenneth W. McCabe was born in Carrick-on-Shannon, Co. Leitrim, Ireland on 7th January 1935. After education at the Presentation Brothers School in Birr, Co. Offaly and Mungret College, Co. Limerick, he entered the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus in September 1952. After his Novitiate he studied for a Bachelor of Arts degree at University College Dublin and later taught at Belvedere College in Dublin. His theological formation was at Milltown Park in Dublin.

A profound interest in the connection between poverty and delinquency deepened during his studies and various pastoral placements, so much so that he saw this as his particular vocation as a priest. At that time – the early 1960's - the Irish Province of the Jesuits was involved mainly in running schools and colleges. In conscience Ken did not see his future in teaching and asked to be released from his Jesuit vows to work as a secular priest in Westminster. He was granted this leave in the spring of 1966 and after some months residing in Edgware parish while taking up a probationary year as a teacher at St James' School, and after a short period of study at Allen Hall, he was ordained to the Diaconate at St Edmund's in December 1966. He was ordained to the Priesthood at Sion Hill Convent in Dublin on 27th May 1967 by Bishop Pat Casey.

He returned to Edgware immediately after ordination and was then appointed to St Charles' Square. He became chaplain at the Cardinal Manning Boys School where he also did some part-time teaching. He moved residence from Ladbroke Grove to Brook Green. During this time he set up the “Lillie Road Centre - a service for children and families in times of trouble”. Fr Ken spent the next thirty years running the charity he had set up which had various incarnations in Chiswick and Osterley. He returned to Dublin to live with his sister Muriel in 2007. His health began to deteriorate and after a period in the Mater Hospital he was very kindly given a place at the Jesuit Retirement Home in Cherryfield Lodge, Milltown Park.

A personal appreciation by Kevin O'Higgins

Ken McCabe was a complex man, but with a very simple, straightforward faith. He took the Gospel seriously, made it the guidebook for his life, and everything he did followed from that. The Beatitudes could be seen as the script he tried his level best to follow. Perhaps because he kept his Christianity simple and straightforward, he was a force to be reckoned with! Ken was passionate about the causes he espoused, and stubborn to the point of driving other people to exasperation. Yet he was always in touch with the lighter side of life, especially when he could persuade a couple of people to join him at a table adorned with a pot of tea and some nice biscuits! He had a great sense of fun, and often enjoyed being mischievous, particularly when things were serious. His life was devoted to doing good, helping others, especially the most vulnerable, and always standing up for the truth. He was uncompromisingly true to his conscience, a maverick of the kind that the Church and society need more than ever!

Ken's life story merits a book. In fact, he has been mentioned in several books and articles already. Fifty years ago, at a time when few people wanted to listen, he tried his best to sound the alarm about the mistreatment of children in Industrial Schools. In a dark period for the Irish Church and State, the young Jesuit scholastic Ken McCabe took a courageous stand, even though it meant standing in a cold and lonely place and, ultimately, accepting exile from his beloved Ireland. He tumed that exile into a magnificent opportunity to do good. His children's charity in London helped to transform the lives of hundreds of young people, many of them of Irish descent. In the persons of Cardinal John Heenan and, later, Cardinal Basil Hume, Westminster Diocese encouraged Ken in his pioneering work, freeing him from more conventional parish work in order to help children in danger.

Over the years, more than 400 children passed through the Lillie Road Centre. Ken cherished every single one of them. Many young Jesuit students passed through the Lillie Road Centre also. Shortly after Ken began working in London, Fr. Joe Dargan decided to send novices to work with him on summer placements. This decision kept alive Ken's life-long link with Irish Jesuits. Providentially, many years later, when decisions had to be made regarding Ken's nursing care and, indeed, the final resting place for his earthly remains, one of the young Jesuits who had worked with him as a novice, Fr, Tom Layden, was now Provincial of the Irish Jesuits. Ken's family and friends, as well as his Diocese of Westminster, will be eternally grateful to Tom.

Initially, Ken fought against the process of slowing down. His last big project was to open an extension of his London charity near Dublin, in Edenderry. He acquired a wonderful house, and opened a new centre for troubled young people. Those who worked with Ken on this project knew that, even early on, there were signs that all was not well with his health. He did his very best to carry on regardless, but was actually relieved when he was finally persuaded that it was time to see a doctor. Scans revealed that he had suffered several minor strokes, and these bad begun to impair his memory and his ability to communicate.

Ken knew his energy, dynamism and even his independence were all slipping away. That was an unimaginably painful realisation for someone like Ken, who had always been, literally, in the driving seat, always pursuing some new project, always in control. The fact that he came to accept his new reality with so much grace was an indication that, in spite of appearances, Ken himself always knew that he wasn't really the one in charge. He fought the good fight for as long as possible.

About three years ago, in addition to his struggle with memory loss, Ken's physical health began to decline and he had to spend a couple of months in the Mater Hospital. From there, he moved to Cherryfield, into the loving care of Mary, Rachel and the entire staff. He was cared for also by the Jesuits of Cherryfield community, who went out of their way to make him feel welcome and at home. In his final two and a half years, Cherryfield gave back to Ken what he had offered to so many young people - care, understanding, love and a refuge from the storm.

To end, a recent memory of Ken. One Sunday afternoon, about four months ago, we were sitting in Cherryfield watching an Andre Rieu concert on the television. When the orchestra began to play the beautiful 2nd Waltz by. Shostakovich, Ken suddenly called to one of the nurses and said “I want to dance!” So they danced a waltz for a couple of minutes. I hadn't seen Ken so happy for many months. When he sat down, there was look of triumph on his face, as if to say “The old Ken McCabe spirit is alive and well”. It was. And it still is. May he waltz away to his heart's content, in God's loving company, forever and ever. Amen!

◆ Mungret Annual, 1959

Behind the Jesuit Curtain

Kenneth McCabe SJ

A Thing that always puzzled me w about the Jesuit in Mungret was the secrecy they inevitably displayed in any discussion about Jesuit life. Later I was to discover that the problem was by no means confined to Mungret. Men from all other Jesuit colleges had experienced the same mystery. For some unknown reason what took place behind the “Jesuit-curtain” was a secret.

I remember on one occasion bringing the subject up with a scholastic, This man had a sense of humour and decided to treat me to a highly imaginative account of what went on in the Jesuit novitiate. None of the common misconceptions of the novitiate of fiction was left unexplored. I heard of the practice of sweeping endless corridors with the inevitable tooth-brush. I was given vivid pictures of innocent-eyed novices obediently planting young cabbages upside down, I was even convinced of the benefits of sweeping swirling leaves against the fury of fierce March winds. The whole fantastic description (which I partly believed) filled me with a nagging curiosity, Surely, I told myself, there must be even stranger things to be seen by the initiated. It was with a spirit of adventure that I set out a year or two later to share in a first-hand peep behind the “Jesuit-curtain”.

The Irish Jesuits have their novitiate at Emo, near Portarlington, Co Leix I arrived there on September 7th, 1952 prepared for the worst. My first surprise was meeting another Mungret re presentative who had entered there the previous year. It was a relief to see tha: he was none the worse for his year with the Jesuits, and, in fact, he seemed to have benefited by the country air and Jesuit food. As I hadn't heard a word about this man since he left Mungret a year previously (another example of Jesuit secrecy) I was greatly relieved at what I saw. With this extra assurance I walked bravely into the Jesuits.

The Master of Novices was on the door-step to meet me and with him was a young man wearing a Jesuit gown over his ordinary lay clothes. This man I was told, was a second year novice and would be my guide or angel for the first two weeks in the house. When I said good-bye to my parents I began my grand tour of the house eager to see the worst.

I was amazed at what I saw. The house literally swarmed with young me dressed like my guide. The funny thing was that they all looked extremel cheerful and full of the joys of life. I met, too, the other young men who were to be my companions for the next two years in Emo. The whole place seemed so natural that I already began to have my doubts about the novitiate of fiction. However, I daren't ask my guide any thing the first night, so I decided to wait till morning to discover the worst.

A good night's sleep is always a revitalizing tonic. Next morning the clang of big bell left me with no illusions as to where I was but I found no difficulty getting up, eager to begin my round of exploration. (I must admit that the “first-fervour” attitude to getting up, which I had on that great morning, has ever since eluded me). First there was Mass and then breakfast. There followed an interview with the Master of Novices and also with his assistant. Then my guide told me we would have half an hour's manual work. This was it. I smiled bravely to myself and obediently went along to collect my tooth-brush. But here I had my first disappointment. I was given an ordinary, if well worn-out, brush and told to sweep, in an annoyingly normal way, a long corridor. The only item that came up to my expectations was the phenomenal length of the corridor. Bang went the tooth-brush myth.

The other items on the list of my Scholastic friend were eventually exploded in the same very ordinary way. Emo is blessed with extensive and very beautiful grounds and it takes forty vigorous novices all their spare time to keep them in reasonably good order, without wasting valuable time planting cabbages upside-down or sweeping leaves against the wind.

Life in the novitiate is divided mainly between prayer and learning the rules of the Society of Jesus. There is, of course, no shortage of games and recre ation that every normal young man must have. One or two features of novitiate life merit special mention. A month after his entrance the novice begins a thirty day retreat based on the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius. Without seeming too “pitious” every Jesuit must admit that this is one of the greatest experiences of his life. Even the schoolboy doesn't take long to be gripped by the intensity of the thirty days.

Perhaps the most unforgettable of the “tests” imposed on the Jesuit novice is the month he must spend in the County Home in nearby Mountmellick. The novice works there as a wardsman helping in the many chores of the hospital and around the old and straggling house. Comparatively speaking the work in the County Home is tough but the novelty carries him over the first few days and then he begins to enjoy the experience, It is no exaggeration to say that his month in “Mellich” is the most vivid memory the average young Jesuit carries with him from Emo. Perhaps for the first time in his life he will come face to face with real poverty and suffering. It is an experience that does much to mature the schoolboy novice and to imprint and mould in the future priest a respect and a love for Christ's poor.

At the end of two years in Emo the novice takes three perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Now he is a Jesuit for life. He says good bye to his friends in Emo and sets out for the next stage in his training, his university studies, which he does for three years at Rathfarnham Castle in Dublin,

University studies: the very idea might send a tremor of fear through the innocent reader. He might even think that it is at this stage that the Jesuit sheds his cloak of humility (it is a well known fact that all novices are humble) and begins his quest for wisdom and superiority. But this is not true. The average Jesuit confines himself to Bachelor of Arts degree and finds the work as tough as everyone else. At the end of three years, instead of being proud and superior, he is much mo likely to be humbler and far more aware of his own limits. Of course, occasionally the law of averages will send in the ranks of the society a genius, This young man might very well take pride in his achievements but if he does, he does so, not because he is a Jesuit, but because he is a man, as such, subject to the weaknesses of human nature. Strange though it may seem the briliant man is generally the most humble of all.

Three years in Rathfarnham is followed by three years in the midland bogs. In St Stanislaus College, near Tullamore, the Jesuit Scholastic studies philosophy to deepen his knowledge of the realities of life. More than anywhere else this is the place where the “schoolboy Jesuit” becomes the mature man, who in a short year or two, will called on to share some of his learning and training with the youth entrusted to the care of his society. This is duty that the young Jesuit eagerly to forward to.

So after eight years of training Jesuit Scholastic is considered ready for the colleges. This is where most of us first meet him. There are always three or four Scholastics in every Jesuit College. They are generally full of enthusiasm and ideas, both of which have been brewing since the young novice was first inspired by the ideals of St Ignatius. The mystery still remains however, why the Scholastic is so slow to share his secrets of Jesuit life. One explanation is that he does not wish to give the impression of “fishing” for vocations. St Ignatius wisely forbids his men to do this. However, once a possible “vocation” approaches a Jesuit friend and tells him of his intention, then the Jesuit will do all he can to encourage and direct him in his choice.

What kind of people join the Jesuits? There is no definite answer to this question. It is true to say that the majority of Jesuits are young men straight from school but many, too, have already tasted the pleasures of life in the world. Late vocations come from all walks of life and it is not unusual to find a wide variety of men in a Jesuit novitiate. How does his training affect the Jesuit-to-be? Jesuits are often accused of being all of a type; moulded in a set fashion and turned out stamped “Jesuit”. This accusation is losing vogue nowadays. The great diversity of work undertaken by Jesuits all over the world is an undeniable proof of the individuality of each member of the Society of Jesus. One thing is true, however. Every Jesuit is the same in so far as all are dedicated to a common cause, all are fired by a single ideal, all work under the same motto: Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam, to the Greater Glory of God.

This brief peep behind the “Jesuit curtain” shoud help to show that Jesuits are really human despite appearances or accusations to the contrary. Life in a college community is as rich in human experiences as is the life of any large family. Schoolboys see their Jesuit teachers as a group of austere but well-intentioned men, (at least I hope they do) men, who to all outward appearances may seem devoid of the many faults and weaknesses that are part and parcel of human nature.

The Jesuit, on the other hand, knows himself for what he really is. He has a fairly shrewd idea, too, of what his confrère really is beneath the cloak of external trappings. He knows his good qualities as well as his weaknesses and admires him for both. Together the Jesuit community try to preserve as much of the family spirit as can be preserved outside the natural family, Christmas in a Jesuit house would amaze even those who think they know Jesuits well. No effort is spared to make this homely of feasts as happy and as enjoyable as possible, Anyone still convinced of the legend of the Jesuit of fiction would be well advised to ask a Jesuit friend about his Christmas fes tivities, He will discover, that at least once a year, the Jesuit sees fit to doff his mask of formality and take an active part in the little simple joys that human nature delights in,.

Before concluding it might be well to retrace our steps and complete the description of the Jesuit training. After colleges the Scholastic goes to Milltown Park in Dublin where he reads Theology for four years, and is ordained at the end of the third. A final year of novitiate, called Tertianship, is spent at Rathfarnham Castle. Here the young priest does the full thirty days retreat for the second and last time. From then on he will make an annual retreat of eight days. At the end of his Ter tianship he is assigned to one of the many works carried on by his order.

This article is written to help anyone interested, to pierce the barrier of Jesuit secrecy. Anyone wishing to learn something of the Jesuit way of life will get enough from it to enable him to open a discussion with a Jesuit friend. There are no Jesuit secrets. If anyone still believes the Jesuit-of-fiction legend he should make a point of meeting and talking with a real Jesuit, Knock on the door of any Jesuit house. Ask to speak to a Jesuit priest. If he turns out to be a tall dark figure equipped with the legendary cloak and dagger, and a hat well down over his eyes, be sure to let me know of your discovery. However, I don't think such a person will have much trouble in realising that every Jesuit is first of all a man endowed in varying degrees, with the virtues and eccentricities of his kind.

https://dominusvobiscuit.blogspot.com/2012/05/autobiography-of-stamp.html

I read a very powerful piece about moral courage, and the lack of it, by Dermot Bolger in yesterday's Irish Times.

He mentioned Fr. Kenneth McCabe:
"The young Jesuit, Kenneth McCabe, got a truthful report about Irish industrial schools to Donogh O’Malley in 1967. The minister was sufficiently shocked to establish a committee that abolished these lucrative sweatshops, but at the last minute McCabe was excluded from the committee. Tainted as a whistleblower, he resigned from the Jesuits and went to work as a priest with deprived London children."
The name rang a bell but it took me a while to place it.

When I was editing the Shanganagh Valley News in 1958, Fr. McCabe had contributed a short story called "Autobiography of a Stamp, or, Converted by the Jesuits" as a vehicle for appealing for used postage stamps for the Missions.

I bet at that stage he had little idea how his career was to pan out ten years later. I checked out the priest list in the Diocese of Westminster and he is listed there as retired and in a Jesuit nursing home in Milltown.

Until today, I had no idea he had run into trouble for following his conscience. This upset me enormously. I'm not sure why. I never met Fr. Kenneth. I had only corresponded with him by letter. But he was nonetheless part of my growing up and he belonged to a more innocent era, as the story of the stamp so strikingly illustrates. So perhaps my upset was at a loss of innocence, a nostalgia for a time when things seemed simpler, and fixed, and true for all time.

Mind you, my upset is slowly turning into a cold anger at how he was treated. From what I read in the Ryan Report he was one of four people proposed for the Committee of Inquiry, and came recommended by Declan Costello TD, but his name got "dropped" somewhere between the Government Memorandum and the final Cabinet decision. It is not clear what role the Jesuit order played in all of this but his resignation from the Order, if such, would not reflect well on them. On the other hand, he seems to be in some way under their care today.

This post is just a small contribution to making sure he, and his bravery, are not forgotten.

Of course I don't have as many readers as the Irish Times, but, never mind.

Update - 9/2/2013

In the third comment below, Fr. Kevin O'Higgins has informed me that "Fr. Kenneth McCabe died peacefully a few days ago (Wednesday, Feb 6) in Cherryfield nursing unit, at Milltown Park". He says Fr. Ken was "a genuinely great man" and I totally agree. May he rest in peace.

Fr. Kevin himself is no slouch, as his bio on the jesuit missions website shows. He says Fr. Daniel Berrigan inspired him to join the Jesuits, and as I was reading the bio I was also thinking of Fr. Roy Bourgeois who seems to have shared some of the same experiences as Fr. Kevin on the missions.

Born: 30 June 1920, Derry, County Derry
Entered: 07 September 1939, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 29 July 1954, Milltown Park, Dublin
First Final Vows: 02 February 1957, Belvedere College SJ
Died: 29 October 1994, Calvary Hospital, Adelaide, Australia (priest of Catholic Archdiocese of Adelaide)

Left Society of Jesus: 1993 for Adelaide Diocese

1966/1967 Corpus Christi, Australia
by 1985 working in Catholic Archdiocese of Adelaide, Australia

Born: 07 August 1906, Waterford, County Waterford / Merrion, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 01 September 1924, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1940, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1944, Mungret College SJ, Limerick

Left Society of Jesus: 13 December 1968

Early education at O’Connells School, Dublin

by 1968 at Sir William Collins, Edgeware London (ANG) working

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1978

Obituary

Father Tom O’Callaghan

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Tom was rarely still in life. He rarely spoke sotto voce. Pacing, pacing, up and down outside the rail in Donnybrook, chain-smoking cigarettes and matches; intense and often very individual instructions to the team at half time... Did Tom ever sit behind the wheel of a car? Little things like traffic jams and speed limits must have sent up his blood pressure if he did. An unbroken Arab horse and a wilderness would have suited him better.

Apart from being a trainer of distinction, Tom was thought to be an outstanding mathematician when we were boys. Whether the latter is true it is impossible to discover now. Boys like to invest their teachers with what they take to be Einsteinian qualities. He was certainly a very intelligent man but he was unable to take his degree. At different stages during his university studies, usually around examination time, he had to sit near the door of the refectory in Rathfarnham Castle. This was because he would suddenly, through nervousness, find himself unable to swallow, and have to run choking from the room. He could talk very interestingly on any subject, even though he might naturally gravitate to discussing rugby. He liked to consult encyclopaedias in the middle of an argument to show he was correct on a point of historical or literary fact.

Fr Tom had very many devoted friends among the Past, but, almost certainly, some who bore a grudge as well. He seemed to work off his frustrations in sarcasm against “enemies”, and, whom he took to be fools, he did not suffer gladly. The result was that those who were on the outside could not see how the devotion of the others arose. Happily the mystery of life is deep and complicated enough to encompass different types. Tom was either a stone in your shoe or a stone in your oyster; he could not be ignored.

For almost twenty years, 1946-1962, Fr Tom O'Callaghan SJ, was teacher, trainer, sometime assistant disciplinarian in Belvedere. He was moved by the Canonical Visitor to Crescent College Limerick. From what we hear, things were not the same there. He was approaching sixty years of age and his once dominant personality was losing its force. He did not have a reputation he could call on, as the pupils of Crescent had not heard of him before. In a few years he was teaching in a school in London and while there he met his future wife. At what stage he decided to leave the priesthood it is impossible to say.

When they returned to Dublin he took up teaching for a while in St. Conleth's. This did not last very long as his health was disintegrating. During a long and sporadic illness his wife took devoted care of him. He died in June of this year aged 72 years. RIP.

Every Christian life is a sad life. Every Christian life is a failure. A web of disappointments and of goals unachieved. We cannot say, and it is futile to guess, whether some things might have been better if some other things had been otherwise ... We do not know. That is all we can say. We offer our sympathy to his wife, Barbara, May the Lord look mercifully on all of us, and on the soul of Fr. Tom O'Callaghan, one-time Jesuit, sacerdos in aeter num.

BK, SJ

Born: 04 June 1843, County Limerick
Entered: 05 October 1860, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 1876, France
Final Vows: 15 August 1880

Left Society of Jesus: 1891

Educated at Crescent College SJ

by 1863 at Roehampton, England (ANG) studying
by 1864 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying Theology 1
by 1873 at Laval France (FRA) studying

Born: 09 March 1901, Lahinch, County Clare
Entered: 04 October 1917, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 27 August 1929, Valkenburg, Netherlands
Died: 31 December 1932, La Mesa, CA, USA

Left Society of Jesus: 12 December 1932 (from Clongowes - Prefect)

Consecrated Bishop of Juneau, Alaska, USA 03 October 1951 to 19 June 1968

by 1927 at Valkenburg, Limburg, Netherlands (GER I) studying
by 1932 at Petworth Sussex (ANG) health

Irish Province News 48th Year No 1 1973

Obituary :

Bishop Dermot O’Flanagan (1901-1972)

Perigrinare Pro Christo
The phrase describes what through the ages has been the most distinctive feature of Irish Catholicism.

One bright June morning just fifty years ago eight young men manning, not an outrigger but a weathered fishing boat, dropped with the tide down Killary Fjord, not as yet seeking the ocean, but trailing a line for that most unsporting of fish - the mackerel, and making for a little beach at the foot of Mweelrea and the last swim and the last picnic of a good holiday, They came from all over the four provinces and half a dozen schools - ‘Rock, BCD, CBS, CWC, and Mungret, but they had been working together for two or three busy years and were a close-knit group - “A Band of Brothers”.

Very soon they would separate never to foregather again this side of the grave. On that June day in 1923, it is unlikely that any of them had a notion how wide their dispersal would be: Maurice Dowling to Zambia, Tom Perrot to Perth, D. Donnelly to Hong Kong and India, Tom Johnston to New Zealand and Quensland, Jim Brennan to Rhodesia, two would settle in Ireland but not before they had reached Capetown and Japan, one, Dermot Flanagan, would go further to the Arctic Circle in Alaska and to San Diego on the border of Mexico, His death then in California is mourned by old friends and companions in the four other Continents, for Bishop O'Flanagan was a friend and companion not likely to be forgotten, loyal, hard-working, cheerful, simple, enterprising, sanguine and unsefish.

What might be called the Belvedere Families have in successive generations played an important part in the school's life and work. Four, five or more boys, long-service pupils, follow one another in an unbroken line, and for a decade or more make their own special impression on school life, so that their contemporaries recognise those years as almost proprietory, belonging to them much as historians may write of the Tudor, Stuart or Georgian epochs. Such families were the Gaffneys, the Troddyns, the Quinns and not least the O'Flanagans - Cyril, Aiden, Louis, Paul, Dermot and Frank, following one another so that the school in their period never lacked one of the O'Flanagans to maintain tradition. It cannot have been without significance that this period covered the false dawn of Home Rule, the Anglo-Irish literary revival, the great strikes, the first World War, the 1916 Rising and its aftermath,

In 1917 Dermot entered the Irish Noviceship, taking his Vows in 1919. Ill health prevented him starting the usual studies and instead he joined the Clongowes Community; after an interval, however, he was to complete his Philosophy in Milltown Park, returning to Clongowes in 1923, to prefect and teach. His Theological studies were made at Valkenburg, where he was Ordained in 1929, Again ill health led to a postponement of Tertianship, and he returned to Clongowes as Higher Line Prefect. During a serious epidemic in the summer of 1933, he added to his work - first the duties of Minister, and then on the eve of the Intermediate Examinations those of Prefect of Studies. It was too much and the breakdown which might have been expected followed,
After a short rest in the “Sleeping Beauty” woods of Emo, a complete change of work and surroundings were decided on, and he volunteered for work in a parish in Alaska.

A couple of years later he became P.P, of Anchorage, where he built the parish church and remained until his consecration in 1951 as first Bishop of Juneau,

The Alaska to which he went was still to some degree that which European legend of the Gold Rush made popular. There were pioneering trips by dog sleigh to remote Eskimo country, but in Dermot's lifetime the territory became the 50th State of the United States, and its treasures in oil and meal hurried it along the road to modernization.

la 1969 in his 68th year he resigned his Bishopric, leaving the country which owed so much to half his lifetime of apostolic labour. In San Diego despite his failing health he continued to accomplish much pastoral work, until at last the ill health which had overshadowed all his manhood could no longer be resisted.

In San Diego seven Bishops including his Metropolitan Dr Tadhg Manning concelebrated his Requiem Mass. The remains were then flown to a similar Memorial Service in Anchorage, and fittingly laid to rest there in the Church, of which it may truly be said he was the Founder.

In that far off summer of 1923, Dermot and a companion cycled from Leenane through the Erriff Valley and climbed Croagh Patrick from the steep eastern side on a sweltering day

There was no one on the summit and after a brief visit to the little chapel, which, surprisingly, was open, they remained admir ing the view of the Islands of Clew Bay when they perceived three people, who had ascended by the pilgrims way; a woman on that torrid day dressed in a black skirt which almost touched the ground, was accomplished by her two sons, a very young man and a boy of 12. While they were in the chapel the Jesuits planned to photo the little group when they emerged, Soon they were joined by the young people but there was no sign of the mother. Perhaps thinking of the long way home to Louisbourg and the Delphi Valley, they questioned the younger boy. “Does your mother often stay long in the Church?” “Oh! Yes, often”. "Yes,, but what is she praying for?" "How would I know?" "Well, I know, I'm sure she is asking God for a vocation for the Priesthood for you.'
Almost in the shadow of Croagh Patrick lies the parish in which that boy worked in God's Service for many years, subse quently, while on the far side of the continent across the Atlantic which lay at his door, laboured the Priest and Bishop who had foreseen the younster's Vocation,

To Bishop Dermot's brothers and sister we offer our sincere sympathy.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Dermot_O%27Flanagan

Robert Dermot O'Flanagan (March 9, 1901 – December 31, 1972) was an Irish-born American prelate of the Roman Catholic Church who served as the first bishop of the Diocese of Juneau in Alaska from 1951 to 1968.

Biography
Early life
Robert O'Flanagan was born on March 9, 1901, in Lahinch, County Clare in Ireland. In 1908, he entered Belvedere College in Dublin.[1] After graduating in 1971, he entered St Stanislaus College, a Jesuit novitiate in Tullabeg, County Offaly. In 1920, the Jesuits sent O'Flanagan to the Netherlands to study at Ignatius College in Valkenburg.[2][3]

Priesthood
O'Flanagan was ordained to the priesthood for the Jesuit Order by Bishop Laurentius Schrijnen in Valkenburg on August 27, 1929.[4] Returning to Ireland, he taught at Clongowes Wood College in County Kildare from 1930 to 1932.[1] In 1932, dissatisfied with the Jesuit Order, he decided to leave it. At a eucharistic conference in Dublin, O'Flanagan met Reverend Patrick J. O'Reilly, a missionary from Alaska and the Pacific Northwest. After speaking with O'Reilly, he decided to go to Alaska on a three-month mission. [3]

Arriving in Juneau, Alaska, in January 1933, O'Flanagan was assigned by Bishop Joseph Crimont as a pastor of a parish in Seward, Alaska, to fill in for a priest on leave. Arriving in Seward, he received a warm welcome from both Catholic and non-Catholic residents. Their hospitality encouraged him to stay in Alaska permanently.[2] Later in 1933, O'Flanagan was assisting Reverend Dane, the pastor at Holy Family Parish in Anchorage. Dane wanted to take a medical leave and asked O'Flanagan to substitute at Holy Family. O'Flanagan would remain at Holy Family until 1951, eventually becoming pastor there. For 18 years, he would travel once a month to Seward, 120 miles from Anchorage, to minister to the parish there. [1][3]

In 1936, O'Flanagan headed a civic group to establish a new hospital in Anchorage. The existing hospital, built by Alaska Railroad in 1915 primarily for its employees, was reaching its limits due to the increased population of the city. After obtaining local funding, O'Flanagan persuaded the Catholic Sisters of Providence to staff and operate the new hospital for the general public. Providence Hospital opened on June 29, 1939.[3] O'Flanagan became a member of the operating committee for the first USO center in Anchorage. On November 30, 1943, O'Flanagan became a naturalized American citizen.[3]

Bishop of Juneau
On July 9, 1951, O'Flanagan was appointed the first bishop of the newly erected Diocese of Juneau by Pope Pius XII.[4] He received his episcopal consecration on October 3, 1951, from Bishop Francis Gleeson, with Bishops Charles White and Joseph Dougherty serving as co-consecrators.[4] O'Flanagan attended all four sessions of the Second Vatican Council in Rome between 1962 and 1965.

O'Flanagan's early resignation as bishop of the Diocese of Juneau due to poor health was accepted by Pope Paul VI on June 19, 1968.[4] He soon left Juneau to live at a Catholic retirement home in La Mesa, California. Dermot O'Flanagan died in La Mesa on December 31, 1972.[3]

(1) Curtis, Georgina Pell (1961). The American Catholic Who's Who. Vol. XIV. Grosse Pointe, Michigan: Walter Romig.

(2) Bagoy, John. "Fr. Demont O'Flanagan and Holy Family Church". Holy Family Cathedral History. Archived from the original on 28 October 2009.

(3) “O'Flanagan, Father Robert Dermot | Alaska History”. www.alaskahistory.org. Retrieved 5 May 2022.

(4) "Bishop Robert Dermot O'Flanagan". Catholic-Hierarchy.org.

https://www.alaskahistory.org/biographies/oflanagan-father-robert-dermot/

O'Flanagan, Father Robert Dermot

1901-1972 | Catholic Priest of Holy Family Church, Anchorage (1933-1951), and Bishop of the Diocese of Juneau (1951-1968)

The Path to Priesthood
Robert Dermot O’Flanagan was born on March 9, 1901, at Castle D’Arcy, Lahinch, County Clare, Ireland. He always used only Dermot as a first name.

After early schooling at Belvedere College, Dublin, a preparatory school for boys in Ireland, from 1908-1917, Father O’Flanagan entered a Jesuit novitiate at Tullabeg, County Offaly, Ireland, remaining there for three years. He did his theological studies at St. Ignatius College, Valkenburg, Limburg, Holland, and was ordained as a Jesuit priest there in 1929. From 1930 to 1932, he taught at a Jesuit secondary school for boys, Clongowes Wood College, in County Kildare.1

The year 1932 was a turning point in Father O’Flanagan’s life. In June, he left the Society of Jesus Jesuits, but remained a priest. He attended a Eucharistic Congress in Dublin. Among those attending was Father Patrick J. O’Reilly, S.J., a veteran missionary of the Pacific Northwest and Alaska. As a result of hearing O’Reilly, Father O’Flanagan volunteered for service in Alaska. He was sent to America on the S.S. Manhattan, arriving in New York on December 15, 1932.

In January 1933, Father O’Flanagan arrived in Juneau. He was met by Joseph R. Crimont, S.J., Vicar Apostolic of Alaska, who assigned him a temporary mission, the parish of Seward. He was warmly welcomed by the people of Seward and wrote back to Bishop Crimont: “. . . people were falling over themselves trying to help me and make me feel welcome at home—the non-Catholics as much as the Catholics. It was worthwhile leaving Ireland for that alone.”2

After a short time in Seward, Father O’Flanagan was sent to Anchorage and appointed as pastor of Holy Family Parish in July 1933.3 He was sent to relieve the ailing pastor of Holy Family Parish, Father Godfrey Dane, for a “temporary stint,” but the appointment became permanent. O’Flanagan served as priest for both Anchorage and Seward for eighteen years. Once a month he would travel to Seward to care for the parishioners there, then return to his duties in Anchorage.

Father Louis L. Renner, S.J., in Alaskana Catholica: A History of the Catholic Church in Alaska (2005), said this of Father O’Flanagan: “It did not take Father O’Flanagan long to become a well-known figure in Anchorage. His reserve, soft-spoken words, and beguiling Irish ways opened doors and hearts to him and to his message. Frequently he visited the sick in the Railroad Hospital. On a winter day, a common sight was that of Father ‘O’ shoveling snow off the rectory porch or church sidewalks. He tended the church and rectory furnaces, and his dusty coveralls became him no less than did his black cassock.”4

Parishioners recalled Father O’Flanagan was the most remembered of all priests in early Anchorage. His first altar servers were John Bagoy and Gene Pastro. Bagoy said he was known for “his thick Irish brogue and his outgoing personality.”5 Bagoy said that the “ladies of the parish were worried about him not getting enough to eat or eating the right food.”6 His diet seemed to consist of coffee and sweet rolls. They devised a system whereby he ate dinner with various members of the church on successive nights.

Establishment of Providence Hospital (1939)
Father O’Flanagan participated in local activities. He broached the subject of a new community hospital in Anchorage to Bishop Joseph R. Crimont, S.J., Vicar Apostolic of Alaska, and to the Sisters of Providence. In the summer of 1936, O’Flanagan became the leading member of a group of individuals with an interest in health care who actively lobbied the Sisters of Providence to establish a Sisters’ hospital in Anchorage. In the spring and summer of 1937, prominent citizens of Anchorage joined Father O’Flanagan’s lobbying effort, including Austin E. “Cap” Lathrop and physicians I.S. Egan, Howard G. Romig, Joseph R. Romig, and August S. Walkowski.7

In 1915, the Alaska Engineering Commission had made Anchorage their construction headquarters for the Alaska Railroad and had funded several new facilities, including the railroad hospital. The two-story, fifty-bed hospital opened on December 1, 1916. The Alaska Railroad hospital was “a severely plain, white frame building, with a simple pitched roof, perched between A and B Streets on a steep slope overlooking Ship Creek.”8 Although the hospital initially provided satisfactory services, as the Anchorage community expanded, it failed to keep pace with the growing needs of local residents.9 Colonel Otto Ohlson, General Manager of the Alaska Railroad, as part of his attempts to reduce the railroad’s deficit, made it more difficult for the local community to use the railroad hospital. In 1934, he began negotiations with the Sisters of Providence about operating a hospital in Anchorage and taking over the railroad’s patients.10 On June 26, 1935, an editorial in the Anchorage Daily Times stated: “The Anchorage hospital is overflowing with patients. A much larger hospital with more conveniences is sorely needed.”11

There was widespread public support for the establishment of a Sisters of Providence hospital in Anchorage. In 1937, the Catholic Sisters of Providence accepted the responsibility of building a new hospital. The Ninth and L Street Providence Hospital was formally opened under Sister Stanislaus of Jesus, the first Superior for the Sisters of Providence, in Anchorage, on June 29, 1939.12 Through Father O’Flanagan’s efforts and those of others, Anchorage and its hospital were better prepared for an era of sustained growth that would transform the community into Alaska’s largest city and commercial center.

The former “L” Street Providence Hospital building still stands at its original location and is used by the Anchorage Department of Health and Human Services. With the city population increasing rapidly, and with the closure of the Alaska Railroad hospital, even the new hospital quickly proved inadequate. Forty-five acres of land for a much larger, modern hospital was acquired near Goose Lake in 1955. The new Providence Hospital was opened in October 1962.13

United Service Organization (USO)
Father O’Flanagan served on the first Committee of Management for Anchorage’s first United Service Organization (USO) headquarters, which was located in a large log cabin at the corner of 5th Avenue and G Street. Opened on September 1, 1941, the Anchorage USO was a welcome place for military service members and their guests, and offered recreational activities, entertainment, socializing, and educational and spiritual services. Through the efforts of the Anchorage civilian population, local military authorities, and the New York USO, a larger, better equipped building was completed in February 1942. The large log structure, capable of holding five hundred people, was on a site leased from the Anchorage Post of the American Legion.14 In addition to becoming firmly involved in Anchorage’s community life through good works, Father O’Flanagan became a U.S. citizen on November 30, 1943.15

Holy Family Church
When Father O’Flanagan arrived in Anchorage, the Holy Family Church was a small wooden structure with a rectory. Father O’Flanagan began raising funds for a new building but it was a slow process during the Great Depression. In the mid-1930s, there was already talk about replacing the small, wooden church. World War II halted O’Flanagan’s drive to build a new, more substantial structure, to accommodate the increasing numbers attending. After the war, a drive to build the church was renewed and construction proceeded slowly as funds were raised. In 1946, construction began on the present church, Holy Family Cathedral (formerly, Holy Family Church), located on the corner of 5th Avenue and H Street. On December 14, 1947, the unfinished basement was ready enough for O’Flanagain to accommodate over two hundred people for the first mass. The one-story church, ornamented with geometric lines, has a square two-story bell tower at the front corner. The church was designed by Seattle architect Augustine A. Porreca in the Romanesque Revival style. In October 1948, the white cement exterior of the building was completed. The parish was able to use the main church, but the interior was not completed until 1952. In 1968, Holy Family Church was recognized as an archdiocesan cathedral.16

Becomes First Bishop of Juneau (1951)
On June 28, 1951, Pope Pius XII established the Diocese of Juneau.17 The Catholic Church recognized that the expanding population of Alaska warranted creating a bishop’s post in the Territory. Father O’Flanagan was ordained and installed as the first bishop of the Diocese of Juneau. He was consecrated as bishop in Anchorage on October 4, 1951, and formally installed on October 7, 1951 in the Cathedral of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He celebrated his first mass as bishop in Juneau on October 7, 1951.

Upon his departure from Anchorage, the Anchorage Daily Times editorialized: “His friendliness and humility won him an immediate spot in the hearts of all people. He extended his three-month visit until it ran into years. His flock prospered and grew under his leadership. The magnificent new Church of the Holy Family will ever be a monument in concrete to the inspiration and spiritual leadership he gave.”18

The new Diocese of Juneau was comprised of 70,800 square miles and included southcentral and southeastern Alaska. The remainder of Alaska continued to be administered as a Vicariate Apostolic in the newly created Archdiocese of Seattle. By 1961, the Diocese of Juneau consisted of eleven parishes, fifteen missions, four schools, and four hospitals. There were ten diocesan priests and five Jesuit missionaries to serve the estimated 20,000 Catholics. 19

Bishop O’Flanagan witnessed Governor Mike Stepovich’s swearing in at Fairbanks on June 8, 1957,20 and officiated at Representative Anthony J. “Tony” Dimond’s funeral in Anchorage on June 1, 1953.21 He visited many of the military installations throughout the state and accompanied various Catholic dignitaries on their tours of Alaska.

Bishop O’Flanagan traveled outside of Alaska to various Catholic gatherings. On July 15, 1959, he had an audience in Rome with Pope John XXIII.22 In September 1964 it was announced that he would attend the Vatican Ecumenical Council called by Pope Paul VI.23 In 1960, O’Flanagan gave the baccalaureate sermon at Carroll College in Montana and was awarded an honorary doctor of laws degree by the college.24

In August 1968, O’Flanagan retired as bishop for reasons of health. He retired to a Catholic retirement home in La Mesa, California, where he died on December 31, 1972.25 He was buried in the Catholic plot of Anchorage’s Angelus Memorial Park Cemetery.

Born: 26 December 1886, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1903, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1919, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows 02 February 1923, Leuven, Belgium

Left Society of Jesus: 10 February 1926

Older Brother of William (Gerry) Owens - RIP 1963

by 1915 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1922 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1923 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1912 in Australia - Regency at Xavier College, Melbourne

Born: 24 September 1909, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 01 September 1926, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1938, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1944, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 1993, Paris, France

Left Society of Jesus: 23 March 1964

Early education at CBS Synge Street, Dublin

by 1933 at Vals, France (TOLO) studying
by 1936 at Valkenburg, Limburg, Netherlands (GER I) studying

Interfuse No 76 : Christmas 1993

Obituary

Kevin Smyth – former Jesuit priest (1909-1993)

Kevin studied Classics in UCD, finishing with a brilliant MA thesis on Wemer Jaeger's distinction between practical (phrone sis) and theoretical (sophia) wisdom in Aristotle's Nicomachaean Ethics. He studied philosophy in Valkenburg in Holland with the German students of the day. Even though the Jesuits had moved their philosophate to Holland because of Nazi activity in Germany, there was more than a trace of German chauvinism among Kevin's fellow-students. In his final year the coveted honour for the brighter students was to defend the Disputatio during the final year - this was in the heyday of neo-scholasticism. To the chagrin of many, Kevin was picked for this honour. Traditionally, in order to ensure a good show, those making the formal “objections” discussed the gist of what they had prepared with the defendant a few days before the great day. No such courtesy was extended to Kevin. But the objectors paid dearly for this: Kevin with brilliant distinctions and sub-distinctions stopped them in their tracks, so that the occasion became a public humiliation for them, much to the delight of the other non-Germans present. To prolong the occasion some of the professors intervened with the own 'objec tions', but although Kevin spoke with perfect courtesy, they fared... no better. This was a side of Kevin which he seldom revealed. He had a brilliant and incisive mind, but if pushed too far could reveal a lack of patience, almost an attitude of contempt - which he regretted immediately and tried hard to make amends for,

When I moved to Milltown Park in 1955 I was asked to teach the Short' course in dogmatic theology in a three-year cycle. Part of the old presentation of each 'thesis' was the Scriptural proof. Knowing that the whole world of Scripture was moving from for merly entrenched positions, I tried to make sure that I was as up to date as possible. After trying various people I finally settled on Kevin as my scriptural guide. He was a gifted guide, always avail able for consultation, invariably helpful and friendly. To this word which refers to friendship | shall return shortly.

Once he had been appointed to Milltown Park, where he had studied theology, Kevin was assigned to teach the old course of Apologetics; this included at that time an introduction to the Gospels. Here Kevin developed his own encyclopaedic knowledge of Scripture. Where he studied Hebrew I do not know, but he became an expert in it - so much so that he was Mgr Boylan's 'external examiner' for the degree in Oriental Languages in UCD The “Dead Sea Scrolls”, the writings surviving from Qumran, were discovered about this time, and Milltown Park Library was soon enriched with the official facsimile publications of the Scrolls. As well as becoming an expert on the Scrolls, Kevin translated, from the original Dutch, Fr Van Der Ploeg's book on the writings of Qumran. He worked in close cooperation with Professor Driver of Manchester University during this period, and together they combated Allegro's attempts to use the Scrolls in order to undermine the documentation for the origins of Christianity. Kevin wrote for Studies on diverse topics, but never received the publicity and recognition which his work deserved. In another Jesuit Province of that time he would have been given the opportunities he deserved for study and writing; a doctorate would have meant little to Kevin, but some recognition should have been given to him.

On the ordinary level of Jesuit community life Kevin was exemplary, deeply pastoral by inclination, which was revealed in his own pastoral work and especially when he was in charge for many years as sub-minister of “Supplies” from Milltown Park - allotting to many Dublin parishes priests to help out on Sunday. It is true to say that he was deeply respected by the Dublin dioce san clergy for his self-sacrificing willingness to help. On another level he was very proud of being a Synge Street past pupil, and he was a gifted football player, playing in Milltown Park well into his forties - even though he did this at some risk with some of his former pupils concentrating on knocking him out!

When in 1961 I was sent to Rome the excitement of the pre Vatican Il times was just beginning. During the few years that followed Kevin corresponded with me regularly, because I was collecting for him from the Italian and French newspapers any items which might throw light on intra- and extra-conciliar manoeuvers: these I sent on to him every week as he was writing a regular column for some Irish newspaper on Vatican II. But there was little personal in this correspondence. Kevin, in many ways, was a prisoner of his very academic world, in spite of his pastoral ad generous qualities. For him I think that some unforeseen suffering was needed to break open the academic armour. In some ways he was the product of the poorer elements in Jesuit formation in his time.

My last letter from him arrived to accompany investment-transfer documents which I had sent to him for his signature. In this let ter he revealed more humanity than in all the other years I had known him. He wrote: “You do not realize what a paradise you live in, with all its faults”.

Paddy Simpson who visited Kevin in Paris always stressed that “he was a much nicer fellow now”.