Barber, Leslie, 1920-2012, former Jesuit priest

Person

Barber, Leslie, 1920-2012, former Jesuit priest

06 June 1920-04 June 2012

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.

IE IJA