Born: 17 August 1932, Ballina, County Mayo
Entered: 07 September 1951, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1964, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1967, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 18 November 2016, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin
Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.
by 1966 at Salamanca, Spain (LEG) making Tertianship
by 1978 at Wilmette IL, USA (CHG) studying
by 1984 at Palo Alto CA, USA (CAL) studying
by 1985 at Barrington IL, USA (CHG) studying
by 1987 at Menlo Park CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1992 at Chicago IL, USA (CHG) working
Early Education at NS Ballina, Co Mayo; Mungret College SJ
1954-1955 Rathfarnham - Studying at UCD
1955-1958 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1958-1961 Crescent - Regency : Teacher
1961-1965 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1965-1966 Salamanca, Spain - Tertianship at Collegio de San Estanislao
1966-1968 Belvedere - Teacher; Assistant Gamesmaster; Spiritual Father (3rd & 4th Years); “Newsboys Club”
1968-1969 Clongowes - Teacher; Lower Line Prefect; Studying CWC Cert in Education
1969-1974 Belvedere - Teacher; Assistant Gamesmaster; Spiritual Father; Career Guidance (5th & 6th Years)
1974-1976 Leeson St - Principal at University Hall, Hatch St, Dublin
1976-1977 University Hall - Community Minister
1977-1983 Chicago, IL, USA - Studies at Loyola University; St Joseph’s Parish, Wilmette, IL, USA
1982 Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Glenview, IL, USA
1983-1984 Palo Alto, CA, USA - Doctoral Studies at Palo Alto University; St Thomas Aquinas Church
1984-1986 Chicago, IL, USA - Studies at Loyola University; Parish work; Counsellor at St Anne’s Rectory, Barrington
1986-1991 Palo Alto, CA, USA - Post Graduate Training at Palo Alto University; St Raymond Catholic Church; Menlo Park
1988 Research in Family Therapy MRI at Palo Alto University
1987 Our Lady of the Rosary Rectory, Palo Alto
1991-1994 Chicago, IL, USA - Visiting Professor in Psychology at Loyola University; St William’s Church
1992 St Philip the Apostle Rectory, Northfield
1994-2016 Leeson St - Sabbatical (94-95); Lecturer in Education at Trinity College Dublin; Family Apostolate; Writer
1998 Vice-Superior
2002 Principal University Hall, Hatch St, Dublin
2003 Family Therapist
2015 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge
◆ Jesuits in Ireland :
https://www.jesuit.ie/news/a-man-for-others/
A man for others
friends, and fellow Jesuits bade him a final farewell at his funeral Mass in Milltown Chapel on Monday 21 November.
Jim had a wide circle of friends associated with the various ventures he undertook as a Jesuit. They were active on Facebook when news of his death broke. Despite some bad health and a twice broken leg, Jim was quite an athlete. He had a passion for rugby, which he taught with gusto to many students down the years in various Jesuit schools. Ivan Morris, one of his former pupils, posted a photo of the rugby team Jim coached, a long time ago. He wrote: “55 years ago these old geezers were quite a decent rugby team! Sadly, our trainer Fr. Jim Moran passed away yesterday. We all owe him a lot. He instilled in us the ability to focus on our goals, gave us just about the right amount of confidence and enough back bone to last a lifetime.”
Similar sentiments have been echoed by many since his death. Preaching at his funeral Mass, his life-long friend Fr John Looby SJ recalled two stories that summed up Jim’s determination and desire to win, even though he would have roundly protested that ‘it wasn’t about the winning’. One concerned the handball games they used to play as novices. John said that although he himself was the better handball player, Jim worked out a strategy and a war of attrition that always resulted in Jim being the victor.
He recalled another occasion when Jim went off to Chicago to study and offered his rugby training services to a Jesuit school there, telling them of his winning accomplishments back in Ireland. His offer however was politely declined and he was told the school was already proficient at winning rugby games. So Jim took himself off to a neighbouring Jewish school where the same offer was gratefully accepted. Some time later his rugby team took on the Jesuit school that had spurned him and won.
Jim had a number of careers in his lifetime – teacher, coach, psychologist, family therapist, and finally lecturer in Trinity College Dublin. Wherever he went he made friends. “He never forgot his friends and I was to learn that his friends never forgot him,” said John, noting that this was especially true of his Jesuit brothers. John learnt in later years that Jim’s father had died before Jim was born, and his stepfather was instrumental in cultivating the talent he had for making lasting friendships. “Providentially his stepfather was a strong influence, setting an example that Jim copied for the remainder of his life. He was given great freedom and he confidently went out to meet new people and allow them into his life.”
The Gospel read at the Mass was that of the Good Samaritan, a fitting one for Jim who was, according to John and indeed all those who knew him well, “a man for others”. He was always quick to offer any help he could to those who crossed his path. Be it the mother in difficulty with her teenage son or the former student who needed some good advice. The music at the funeral was the work of the well known composer and musician Willie Hughes who played and sang in gratitude for the influence Jim had been on his life.
When he returned to Dublin from America in the ’90s, Jim was part of the Leeson St community. They had a large garden at the back-end of the large Georgian house, and Jim spent years lovingly and patiently transforming it. He planted trees and stunning rose bushes, and made arbours and boundaries out of bushes and flowers. It was a labour of love that to this day gives endless pleasure to those who visit the community house in the centre of Dublin.
John concluded by noting that Jim was a person who never saw events in life as mere chance but rather as due to “the providence of a loving God whom he loved and trusted in all his life”.
He served Him well. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.
◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 2017
Obituary
Father Jim Moran SJ
An Appreciation by Peter Thompson
dozen of us from the Rhetoric year of 1972, welcomed in by the open door of Belvedere House, manned by the great Mick Hickey, from the year of 1973and, like Ollie Campbell, one of our great Rugby players of that era, a man who had owed the nurturing of his sporting talents to the recently-deceased Jim Moran, in honour and memory of whom we had come to celebrate Mass in the Boys' Chapel. Mick had come a long way, literally, for the occasion, a testimony to Jim, certainly, for he now lives in Delaware, the beautiful peninsular State on the eastern shores of the United States.
I hadn't been in Belvedere at all since leaving the college over 40 years previously. In the Chapel, noticed immediately the absence of confession boxes, a sign (I hope) that the Sacrament of Reconciliation has moved on from its days as “Penance” to a more enlightened interpretation of what it means to feel oneself whole again after a period of mental and emotional stress.
Also different, and a most welcome difference it was too, was Leonard Moloney's model of celebration of the Mass, we old boys gathered around in a semi-circle before a simple altar table, with the Holy Communion administered in both Kinds, after a gentle invitation from Leonard that, if any of us felt awkward about receiving, We come forward anyway for a blessing.
This was an inclusiveness I was delighted to experience, after many years of alienation from the Church, and I for one was grateful indeed for it, for its sensitivity. It expressed for me also that ritual, much criticised today, has at its best a capacity to act as a means, a fuselage, a hull by which eternal truths of love are conveyed from one generation, one time as it were, to the next.
Another sensitivity was shown by the great Ollie, my childhood friend from north county Dublin, who, gentleman that he is and always has been, had gently touched my left elbow earlier in the quadrangle and asked me discreetly if I would do one of the Readings from Scripture - St Paul to the Ephesians, 1 think it was. I deeply appreciated that invitation, which I was happy to accept.
The name Jim Moran may not mean all that much to today's young Belvederians, if anything, but in a darker, much more formal time he was a beacon of warmth to his pupils and schoolboy rugby players, whom he coached to victory in the Leinster Schools' Senior Cup in 1972. It is fitting, in a serendipitous way, that in this year's edition of The Belvederian the present generation of pupils are celebrating yet another victory in that intensely competitive of sporting challenges for Leinster schools.
Jim had had earlier success in the Crescent College (now Comprehensive) in Limerick in 1961 where, as a scholastic, he coached its Junior team to success in the Munster Schools Junior Cup. After Belvedere, both Clongowes and UCD were also to benefit from his striking ability to relate to, and inspire, young people to sporting and perhaps also personal excellence. Jim was the sort of james who became jim, if my readers follow me. From the rural west of Ireland of the now so-remote 1950s, he was bereft of that bourgeois stiffness and aloofness with which, rightly or wrongly, our college was associated in the minds of many Dubliners in the past. He would have strongly approved of the wonderful example which Belvedere has shown to other private schools in recent years by the reservation of 10% of its pupil numbers to boys whose parents, for financial reasons, would never have dreamt of having one of their sons enter the portals of James Joyce's alma mater.
When last I met him, at the most recent 1972 re-union held in Portmarnock in 2012, I, trying my best with the best of intentions, invited him to have tea with me someday in the Shelbourne Hotel, around the corner from where he was then living at the Jesuit house in Lower Leeson St. to my dismay, but not, on reflection, to my surprise, he refused, saying he could not accept the offer, however sincerely made, of such a “luxury” as tea in Dublin's premier hotel. He was instructing me still, teaching again the values which I would like to think we all have in common, however we may express them now.
After Mass, the company - minus Leonard - moved on to the congeniality of the Dergvale Hotel in Gardiner Place, a very different hostelry from the Shelbourne, but a favourite watering hole of us early Seventies OBs, where I found myself in animated conversation with the said Mick Hickey about, of all things, Dublin Gaelic football, of which his distinguished medical brother David, with three Senior All Ireland Medals to his credit, was a great exemplar.
Now maybe Mick was pulling one of my legs, or indeed both of them, but he told me that David had developed a totally new strategy in Gaelic football, which is now used also, I believe, in Rugby. As a corner right forward, he would kick the ball, not towards the net, but into the right corner of the opposition, then race ahead, before the opposing defence had cottoned on. to the move, collect the ball, Garryowen-style, and lope it back into the goal mouth for a fellow teammate to collect and pummel into the net. David, apparently, developed this following on from an idea by his coach, the late Kevin Heffernan.
Mick and I were joined by another distinguished sportsman of our generation, Neil Murphy, formerly President of the Irish Sailing Association and helmsman of a Puppeteer at Howth Yacht Club. In discussing the emollient effects of the Mass we had all just experienced, Neil made a telling remark which has stayed, and will continue to stay with me. “Age gives you perspective”, he said, which I think is a piece of wisdom, deeper, much deeper than it might seem at first glance, which I wish to share particularly with the young Belvederians of today.
The mention of another great football coach brings me back of course to Jim. He lived long enough, as a man for others, always, to live in an age when, in some quarters today, that ideal, that nobility of spirit and of behaviour seems almost reviled. Yet he achieved so much, in obscurity, by practising it. I hope up there on the Fields of Elysium he will forgive me this notoriety I pen in his memory. In the best sense, he was Old School, all right
