Coláiste na Rinne

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4 Name results for Coláiste na Rinne

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Brennan, Joseph A, 1929-2018, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/809
  • Person
  • 13 November 1929-08 January 2018

Born: 13 November 1929, Dalkey, County Dublin
Entered: 15 September 1948, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1962, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final vows: 02 February 1981, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 08 January 2018, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1966 at Brussels Belgium (BEL M) studying

◆ Irish Jesuit Missions : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/he-was-a-good-man/

‘He was a good man’
Jesuits, family, friends and colleagues of Joe Brennan SJ, packed the Church of the Holy Name in Beechwood Avenue to bid him a fond farewell at his funeral Mass, on Friday 12 January, 11am. They were joined by the staff and students of Gonzaga College. John O’Keeffe SJ presided at the Mass, and Myles O’Reilly SJ, a former superior of the Gonzaga Community that Joe was a member of for 43 years, gave the homily. Joe had taken ill in late December and was moved to St Vincent’s Hospital where he was diagnosed with a respiratory illness. He died peacefully on the morning of January 8th 2018, aged 88.
Fr Joe was born and raised in Dublin, and he joined the Jesuits in 1948 at the age of 18. He was a keen sportsman, playing inter-provincial rugby for Leinster. He was also an accomplished musician, particularly on the piano, so he would have appreciated the singing of the Gonzaga student choir at his funeral Mass.
Most of his Jesuit life was spent as a teacher of religion and philosophy. He taught in Mungret, Clongowes, Belvedere, and finally Gonzaga. Brian Flannery, Education Delegate, said Joe had been fully engaged with Gonzaga in one way or another right up to the time of his illness in late December. “He was known for always encouraging students to think for themselves,” said Brian; “Also for instilling values. ‘If you don’t stand for something,’ he loved to say, ‘you will fall for anything.'”
Fr Joe had a few such sayings that he was famous for repeating, and the school had them printed on the back of his funeral Mass booklet. “Life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved”, he would say. Or, “Good judgement comes from experience, experience comes from bad judgement.” And he would remind the students, “Faith is not against reason, it’s beyond it.”
In his homily, Fr Myles O’Reilly referred to the first reading from Isaiah and the banquet the Lord prepares for His trusted servants. He spoke of the many years of faithful service Joe had given as a follower of Jesus. He had served his fellow Jesuits, his students and his family, all with great generosity and wisdom. It was his turn now to be served and take part in the banquet prepared for him, as promised by the prophet Isaiah, said Myles.
Joe’s many nieces and nephews also attended the Mass. One of them, Ross Brennan, paid a warm tribute to their uncle at the end of the service. He spoke of how loved Joe was by his extended family, of the kindness he always showed, and of the help he always gave to them.
The funeral Mass preceded that of his fellow-Jesuit Kennedy O’Brien, also a teacher in Gonzaga, who had died suddenly, earlier that week. The principal of Gonzaga, Damon McCaul said that it had been a very difficult week for the staff and students in the school. He said that Fr Joe had made such an impact on his students that older past pupils still remembered him with deep regard and gratitude. “And it’s the same with Kennedy for a new generation of pupils and past pupils. Both men were outstanding teachers and educators.”
The final word on Fr Joe was a simple line in the funeral Mass booklet, underneath a photo of him saying Mass in Gonzaga: ‘He was a good man’.

Early Education at Sacred Heart, Leeson St, Dublin, Ring College, Waterford & Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
1950-1953 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1953-1956 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1956-1959 Mungret College SJ - Regency : Teacher
1959-1963 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1963-1964 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1964-1965 Trier, Germany - Liturgy Studies at Benediktiner Abtei St Mathias
1965-1966 Brussels, Belgium - Catechetics Studies at Lumen Vitae
1966-1968 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Teacher; Prefect; Lecturer in Catechetics at Milltown Park
1968-1969 Belvedere College SJ - Teacher; Musical Director; Lecturer in Catechetics at Milltown Park
1969-1974 Mungret College SJ - Teacher; Gamesmaster
1974-2018 Gonzaga College SJ - Teacher; Lecturer in Catechetics at Milltown Park
1983 Rector; Director of Pastoral Care
2010 Chaplain at Marlay Nursing Home, Dublin; Assistant Treasurer; Teacher of Religion
2014 Ceased Teaching

Dunne, John A, 1944-2008, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/773
  • Person
  • 15 May 1944-27 December 2008

Born: 15 May 1944, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1962, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 21 June 1974, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final vows: 31 May 1979, Crescent College Comprehensive, Dooradoyle, Limerick
Died: 27 December 2008, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Loyola, Sandford Road, Dublin community at the time of death

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/john-dunne-sj-rip/

John Dunne SJ RIP
Fr John Dunne SJ died peacefully at 10:30 am on the morning of 27 December 2008, the Feast of John the Evangelist. He was commended to the Lord by the prayers of his sister, Anne, Jesuit colleagues and nursing staff.

John Dunne SJ
15 May 1944 – 27 December 2008
John’s early education was in Trim and Coláiste na Rinne, Dungarvan. After secondary school in Clongowes Wood College he entered the Society of Jesus on 7 September 1962 at Emo. After First Vows, John went to Rathfarnham and studied Arts at UCD and later Philosophy at Milltown Park. He taught at the Sacred Heart College in Limerick before returning to Milltown in 1971 to study theology.

After ordination on 21 June 1974, he studied guidance counselling at Mater Dei and went as teacher and guidance counsellor to Crescent College Comprehensive where he remained until 1981. During this time he made Tertianship in Tullabeg and took his Final Vows on 31 May 1979. While in Limerick he studied computing and continued this interest, later beginning LayJay bulletin, forerunner to today’s AMDG.ie. He served in Galway from 1981 to 1987 as Rector, teacher, guidance counsellor and chair of the board of management. In 1987 John was appointed to Gonzaga where he was to spend the next fourteen years in roles as various as pastoral co-ordinator, guidance counsellor, teacher, librarian and Rector.

Following a year’s sabbatical, during which John spent some time at the Jesuit School of Theology, Berkeley, California, and travelling in Asia and Africa, he moved to Loyola House in 2002 where he became Superior and Socius (Assistant Provincial).

John was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 19 December following a short illness which was diagnosed at the beginning of October. He died peacefully on the morning of Saturday 27 December, feast of Saint John the Evangelist.
May he rest in the peace of Christ

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/john-dunne-sj-funeral-homily/

John Dunne SJ: funeral homily

The death of Fr John Dunne has drawn condolences from near and far, including, from Zambia-Malawi, Declan Murray SJ and Provincial Peter Bwanali. Also, there have been
numerous requests for the text of the homily which Brian Grogan SJ gave at the funeral mass in Gonzaga Chapel. Brian spoke warmly of John’s life and character, concentrating on three areas – the “three E’s”: the Enterprise of John’s life, his Endurance, and his Everlasting joy. Read the full homily below :

It’s impossible to capture a person’s life fully and I shall not try. But John loved photography: he lost 18 volumes of snapshots in the fire on Good Friday 2007! So I too shall be content with snapshots. I also note that at the Vigil we held for him last evening, friend after friend came up to the microphone and each gave us a distinct snapshot of how John had impacted on their lives. And the stories will go on and on. So I shall focus just on three areas:

The Enterprise of John’s life – this is the longer bit! His Endurance. His Everlasting joy. Three “Es” so you will know when I’m coming in to land!

  1. The Enterprise of John’s Life
    We celebrate a good man. Now that may seem obvious: but I believe that one should try to write a homily with the bible in one hand and the Irish Times in the other – which makes it hard to do any writing, but there you are! Now there are two things to note about today’s Irish Times: first, those of you who are worried about your stocks and shares should take my advice and not invest in Pringles (= a form of potato crisps), because the value of these shares has plummeted since John lost his appetite!

Next, the paper is full, as always, of the wrongdoings of many people: violence, deception, murder, rape, domination – the unsavoury side of humankind. Measure John’s life against that picture. True, his life was ordinary: he taught for 25 years, but many of you have taught for much longer. He was a Superior for 18 years, but that was nothing special. We had a famous man, a scripture scholar, who was once asked if he’d like to be a Superior. ‘No’, he said finally, ‘but I’d like to live like one!’ But in fact it’s an ordinary job of service, just as being the assistant to the Provincial is. An ordinary man: John was not an academic; he liked the quip: ‘You can tell an intellectual but you can’t tell him much!’

An ordinary man. A good man. 46 yrs of service as a Jesuit. His story is ours. We can relate to him: I speak to the ordinary among you – please remain seated! The others can stand!
There’s a book of short stories by Flannery O’Connor: A Good man is Hard to Find. Good people are hard to find, and would that our world had more of them. Don’t take the faithful servant for granted! God doesn’t: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant!’

About 50 years ago John made a decision as an adolescent: not to do his own thing, not to win public approval or to make lots of money. He chose a life of love and service. He would serve the world! ‘In all things to love and serve’ is an Ignatian phrase. It sounds fine, but he took it seriously and lived it out, year after plodding year, until Dec 19 of this year to be exact, after the end- of -year office lunch. He then went home and spruced up for a Christmas meal given by Anne, his sister. That evening he gave in and went to Cherryfield. Two days earlier he had summoned up enough energy to go to Dundrum and do his Christmas shopping. Many of the gifts have yet to be given out.

To serve the world, through the Jesuit Order. This was his enterprise, and he fulfilled it. It wasn’t easy. He loved the Society & the Province & the community, and he loved his family and friends. A loyal servant, he was ‘Ready for everything’ – It’s an Ignatian phrase, and he lived it. He did all that was asked of him, especially when made Assistant to the Provincial 6 yrs ago. Punctual, organised. He was out to work by 08.00, home for 6 p.m. day after day, not knowing what demands each day would bring.

In mid-Oct the doctors told him he could go home – ‘But no work!’ We were so amazed at his going back to work after hospital in mid-Oct that we thought he hadn’t understood that he was terminally ill. Only accidentally did I learn that on his discharge he had told the hospital chaplain that he ‘was going home to die.’

A Good Man is hard to find. Good people – ordinary good folk – change the world. This world of ours has been the better for John’s presence, for his carrying out his freely chosen enterprise.

As the second reading emphasised, our enterprises must be loving ones. Perhaps each of us is asked by God to reflect to the world a particular facet of the divine? So God asks one person to reflect energy, another justice, a third compassion, a fourth good administration and so on. I suggest John’s task was to reflect lovableness! That’s what I’ve heard most emphasised over these days. He loved his family and his friends and his Jesuit brethren, and in return he was well loved.

He was amazed at the outpouring of concern, care, prayer, compassion, love, for himself when sick. He couldn’t see why this should be. He was humble. He never knew over the last days that many of the Jesuits in Cherryfield had said that they would cheerfully have taken his place – they were retired and ill, whereas he had still so much potential. That’s a nice tribute, to find others willing to lay down their lives for you! Check it out!! Don’t get me wrong: his loving was of the unique Dunne brand! He could be gruff; he could get mad with you! But the squall passed and blue skies returned.

John was uniquely present to reality. If he was eating, that’s what he was engaged in. If he was sorting out a mess created by someone, that’s what he was doing. He got to appreciate Buddhism during his sabbatical in 2001. He had Buddhist qualities: that of being full present to reality. He could also, like Buddha, enjoy life to the full, whether it was TV, DVDS, recliners, holidays, good company....In Jewish folklore, the single question that God will ask as we approach the pearly gates is: Did you enjoy my creation? ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ must have been John’s answer the other morning! Most obviously at table: the feast of flowing wine etc... – And the pouring cream! John enjoyed it all. I sometimes fantasised, as he put on more weight and several chairs gave way, that perhaps he was becoming a reincarnation of the Buddha...
It was hard to stay mad with him for long. In our little community of four we divide time into BC – before the conflagration – and AD, after the disaster. Well, when we got into our new house after much work on John’s part, we found that there were two en-suite and two plain bedrooms. I proposed in best Ignatian fashion that we should do a discernment in order to choose who got what. ‘Fine’, said John as he ambled up the stairs, ‘I’ll take the en-suite on the left and you boys can discern about the other three!’ But the same man would give his time and ability endlessly to sort out my computer problems after a long day in the office.
It was because he was so massively present that his death creates a massive loss. Others of us are more peripherally present to what we do. For John, his Yes was Yes, and his No was No! He could be devastatingly honest. I felt he used to contradict me a lot, and I said one day: ‘There isn’t a single statement that one could make in this house that won’t be contradicted.’ Immediately John shot back: ‘That’s not true!’
It’s time to move on.

  1. His Endurance
    Chardin wrote a book about the divinising of our activities and of our passivities. He divided life thus into two: what we do and what happens to us. For him, what happens to us is about 80% of our life experience, and his concern was how we respond.

We’re talking about the things that happen to us and how we respond. We’re talking about the sanctification of the ordinary, about the tradition in Christian spirituality that unavoidable suffering, patiently endured, is graced. We’re talking about the simple Morning Offering.

For John, as for all of us, there were the times he lived in: Post-war world. Dev’s Ireland. Economic development. Vatican 2. GC 31 – the Jesuit effort at genuine renewal. Subsequent turmoil in the Church and in the Society. Assassination of JFK and MLK. Communism and its fall. Northern Ireland Conflict. Rwanda. Palestine. Kosovo. Decline in vocations. The loss of many things cherished. The Celtic Tiger and its demise. Scandals and tribunals. Child Sexual Abuse.... The list continues. We can ignore it, get depressed at it, become cynical about it, or we can entrust our battered world to God and pray and do what we can about our troubled times. Ignatius speaks of ‘courage in difficult enterprises’ and John had that.

Moving along in this area of the things endured: Close to his heart was the death of his sister Margot. Last year there was the fire and the loss of everything. This year: His knee replacement; End of use of motorbike. It was hard for him but no complaining. Then his incipient deafness humbly acknowledged.

Then in October, his final illness. He was so massively practical about it: ‘The news is bad!’ ‘I’m going home to die!’ ‘This is how it is. We’ll see.’ He had in consequence to let go of his trip to the Holy Land in October, though he sneaked a trip to Fatima in early December!

You know the novel by P J Kavanagh: The Perfect Stranger? Well, over the past three months, John was the perfect patient. One morning at breakfast recently I said to him: ‘ You’re very patient.’ He replied: ‘What else can one do?’ ‘Well’ I said, ferreting around in my own feelings, ‘you could choose depression or rage or self-pity? ‘I’d hate that’ he said.’ Days before his death a visitor asked him how he was feeling? ‘Smashing!’ was the reply.

Sickness is no less a gift than health – so said Ignatius rather tersely. Perhaps I’m beginning to see the meaning of that. There’s so much to be learnt from him on how to face sickness. And I have been struck by all the good that has come out of this mess, this mess of sickness and of dying, which is not the way God intends things to be; I mean the love and care from others, in Cherryfield and right across the world. I think I believe more than before that God brings good out of evil, and that’s a blessing.

  1. His Everlasting Joy
    So much for the outer side of his life. But as the fox said to the Little Prince, ‘The things that are essential are invisible to the eye.’ At the end of all his letters as Assistant to the Provincial, John had: Working for God on earth may not pay much, but the retirement plan is out of this world! It took some faith to write that!
    What’s the Retirement Plan? For those of us who see our pension schemes fall apart, it would be good to know that there is one that won’t fail! Another John Donne, 1572 – 1631, (died at 59) to help us catch the mystery of how it is with him now: it’s from the Holy Sonnets, since not all his sonnets were such!

Death, be not proud: though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so...
For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
And soonest our best men with thee do go...
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more: death, thou shalt die.

So what do we wake to? Firstly, there’s God, a God who is pleased with him and loves him. There’s the welcome and congratulations as he staggered over the line on the 27th, the feast, of course, of St John the Evangelist! The loveableness he was entrusted with is now perfected. The Lover gives all to the beloved! So says Ignatius at his mystic best... What is that like? Multiple overwhelmings... Later in this Mass we acknowledge: ‘We shall become like him, for we shall see him as he is.’

Next, I can imagine John looking around to see where the banquet is set! Then there’s the unalloyed joy of great companionship. Then agility of body. John’s body was worn out at the end: now Hopkins line comes into play: “This jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood/Immortal diamond/Is immortal diamond.” Then insights into the mysteries of God: his imagination caught.

Then a commissioning ceremony: asked by God to be caring still: to be a solid presence to the rest of us until we meet him again. ‘Placed over many things!’
John loved celebrations: he is now celebrating what we celebrate here: that Jesus Christ by dying destroys our death, and by rising restores our life. He is all Joy. This is how Jesus expresses it in St John’s gospel: ‘I will see you again and Your hearts will rejoice, And no one will take your joy from you’ (16:22).
May it be so for us all. Amen.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/losing-john-dunne/

Losing John Dunne
In the consciousness of Irish Jesuits, the dominant mood this Epiphany is of loss. It is just a week since we buried John Dunne, who had been Socius (companion, secretary,
counsellor, support) to the last two Provincials, a cheerful, competent, selfless presence at the heart of the administration. Conscious of his terminal state with galloping cancer, he worked until he dropped, a good model of Winnicott’s prayer: ‘May I be alive when I die’. He had served Galway, Gonzaga, Eglinton Road and Sandford Road as superior; and the Institute of Guidance Counsellors as their president for many years. A crowd of friends, from all the chapters of his life, packed Gonzaga chapel to overflowing in a memorable funeral Mass, and responded warmly to Brian Grogan’s affectionate homily. It was a good send-off, one which John would relish. But the loss is heavy, most of all for his sister Anne.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr John A Dunne (1944-2008)

15th May 1944: Born in Dublin
Early education at Mercy Convent and CBS, Trim; Ring College, Dungarvan; Clongowes Wood College
7th September 1962: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1964: First Vows at Emo
1964 - 1967: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts
1967 - 1969: Studied Philosophy at Milltown Institute
1969 - 1971: Dooradoyle - Teacher at Crescent Comprehensive
1971 - 1974: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
21st June 1974: Ordained at Gonzaga College Chapel
1974 - 1975: John Austin House - Studied Guidance and Counselling at Mater Dei Institute, Dublin
1975 - 1981: Teacher, Guidance Counsellor
1977 - 1980: University of Limerick - Computer Studies
1977 - 1978: Tertianship at Tullabeg
31st May 1979: Final Vows at Crescent College Comprehensive, Dooradoyle
1981 - 1987: Galway - Rector; Teacher; Guidance Counsellor, Chair, Board of Management
1987 - 2001: Gonzaga -
1987 - 1993: Pastoral Care Co-ordinator; Teacher, Guidance Counsellor
1993 - 1998: Rector
1996 - 1998: Guidance Counsellor; Teacher
1998 - 2001: Information Technology Co-ordinator; College Librarian; Assistant Pastoral Counsellor; Teacher of Computer Studies
2000 - 2001: Minister; ECDL Course
2001 - 2002: Sabbatical
2002 - 2008: Loyola House - Socius, Superior; Province Consultor; Provincial's Admonitor; Provincial Team
27th December 2008: Died in Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Brian Grogan writes:

An Ordinary Man
John was born in Dublin, but the family lived in Summerhill, near Trim in Co. Meath, so he received his early education at the local Mercy Convent, and then at the CBS. His father was an army man, and he had two older sisters, Anne and Margot. He spent some time in Colaiste na Rinne, Dungarvan, and then went to Clongowes. He entered the Society at Emo in 1962, immediately after school, then studied arts, including archaeology, at UCD, 1964-1967. He studied philosophy at Milltown 1967-1969, when the Institute was just beginning. Following two years teaching at Crescent College Comprehensive, and three years of Theology again at Milltown, he was ordained on 21 June 1974, and spent the following year at Mater Dei, studying Guidance Counselling, which became a lifelong interest: he was later President of the Association of Guidance Counsellors in Ireland. He taught again in Limerick for the next six years, and took up a part-time course in Computer Studies in 1977: computers were to fascinate him for the remainder of his life. He was Rector in Galway from 1981-1987, and in Gonzaga 1993-1998 where he spent fourteen years in all: he was Superior in Loyola and Socius to the Provincial from 2002-2008.

All told, he taught for twenty-eight years and was a Superior for seventeen. He enjoyed a well-earned sabbatical in Berkeley, Thailand and Nepal in 2001-2002, where he developed an interest in Buddhism. He left behind several photos titled “The Buddha and I', and his gastronomic exploits made one wonder if he might become a reincarnation of the Buddha. His hobbies were photography and computers; he read no newspapers or serious novels, but was well informed on current affairs, and had a sharp mind and a good memory, as well as a sound knowledge of the Irish Province. He liked TV and DVDs, and his preferred mode of travel was the motorbike, which he relinquished only after a knee operation in May 2008.

After forty-six years of Jesuit service, he died at sixty-four, having been diagnosed with cancer in early October 2008. He spent a little over a week in Cherryfield, and was the first to die in the new building. He died, appropriately, on the Feast of St John the Evangelist, after whom he was named. He saw himself as an ordinary man: he was not an academic, and liked the quip: "You can tell an intellectual, but you can't tell him much!' But about fifty years ago he had made a decision: not to do his own thing, not to win public approval or to make lots of money. He chose a life of love and service: he would serve the world through the Jesuit Order. This was his enterprise, and he fulfilled it in the demanding times in which he lived.

A Good Man
There's a book of short stories by Flannery O'Connor: A Good man is Hard to Find. As the media make clear in giving us our daily dose of bad news, good people do seem hard to find, and God doesn't take them for granted. The gospel text for his requiem was: 'Well done, good and faithful servant!' People who spoke at the Vigil in Gonzaga Chapel the night before his funeral said over and over: He was a good man! Ordinary good people change the world, and many testified that their world was so much the better for John's presence, for his carrying out his freely chosen enterprise.

John came across as a good man because of his love. He loved family and friends, but especially he loved the Society and more concretely the members of the Irish Province. Being a Jesuit was a fulltime reality for him, and it came across. A loyal servant, he was “ready for everything” as Ignatius would have wished. He did all that was asked of him, especially when made Assistant to the Provincial six years ago. Punctual and organised, he was at his desk early and working his way through the myriad mundane tasks that fall to a Socius - fifty per day, according to a survey! When the curia moved to Sandyford after the fire, he prepared his lunch daily from the leftovers of the previous evening meal and set off before 8 am, and was a genial Office Manager, with an inimitable style. “Carry on the good work!” was his usual phrase to encourage the staff in their labours.

When his diagnosis was confirmed in mid-October the doctors told him he could go home - “But no work!” In the community we were so amazed at his going back to work immediately that we thought he hadn't understood that he was terminally ill. Only accidentally did we learn that on his discharge he had told the hospital chaplain that “he was going home to die”. But instead he went home to serve out the remaining weeks of his life to the full. “In all things to love and serve” is an Ignatian phrase which sounds fine, but he took it seriously year after plodding year, until December 2008 - to be exact. After the end-of-year office lunch in the IMI he went home to spruce up for a Christmas meal given by his sister Anne. That evening he gave in and went to Cherryfield. Two days earlier he had summoned up enough energy to go to Dundrum Shopping Centre to do his Christmas shopping. He never had the joy of distributing most of the gifts, which were found after his death. Many of us, I suggest, if we were told at his age that we had three months to live would leaf through A Thousand Places to See Before You Die and ask for an open credit card. Nothing wrong there, but John's loyalty and tenacity brought him in another direction.

Living to the Full
John enjoyed living. He was welcoming and hospitable, believing that enjoyment was to be shared. He engaged fully in whatever he was doing, whether it was a good meal, a sabbatical, a glass of brandy, an administrative issue, a DVD, a discussion, a computer problem, a rugby match on TV, a holiday with his sister Anne. It is said that part of Jewish belief is that eternal judgement will consist in a single question from God: 'Did you enjoy my creation?' To this John would have given a resounding Yes! This quality of complete engagement gave him a certain magnificent simplicity. His Yes was Yes, and his No was a definite No: he had little space for indecision, and would engage in robust discussion to bring things to conclusions. At his funeral Mass the Provincial, John Dardis, told of times when he himself would return enthusiastically from Rome with a bright idea on how to move Province affairs forward, If John didn't like it he'd bark out: “That's ridiculous! Won't work!” Yet he was open to persuasion and then embrace the project wholeheartedly.

Clearing his plate meant not only enjoying good food to the last bite: it also meant that he liked to delegate. When commissioned to get something done his strategy was to delegate rather than to do the job alone. So in early October last when Fr Jack Donovan died in London, John, who was in hospital at the time, was assigned to see to arrangements, and I got a call: “Will you take this over?” - after which John presumably moved on to the next task. He enjoyed this style of management, somewhat more, perhaps, than those at the receiving end of his phone calls! But it was hard to stay mad with him for long. When after the fire we got into our new house - due to much work on John's part, we found that there were two en-suite and two plain bedrooms. It was proposed in best Ignatian fashion that we should do a discernment to choose who got what. “Fine”, said John as he ambled up the stairs, “I'll take the en-suite on the left and you boys can discern about the other three!” But the same man would give his time and ability endlessly to sort out someone's computer problems after a long day in the office.

It was because he was so massively present to whatever he was doing, whether looking after others or discussing or relaxing, that his death creates such a massive sense of absence. Others of us are more peripherally present to what we do. Not for him the soft-footed approach: he could be devastatingly honest. I used feel that he used the contradictory mode perhaps a shade too much, and said one day:
“There's not a single statement that one could make in this house that won't be contradicted”. Immediately John shot back: “That's not true!” He could be gruff, “like an angry bear” as someone said “but a teddy-bear beneath it all”. He could get mad with “eejits” but the squall passed and blue skies returned. He travelled unencumbered by the baggage of resentment or self-pity.

Enduring to the End
John not only enjoyed the good things of life: he also endured its painful side patiently. For him there was the post-war Irish scene: firstly de Valera's Ireland, succeeded by economic development, then difficult times, then the Celtic Tiger and its demise. Add into the mix the Northern Ireland conflict, political and financial scandals and endless tribunals. In the religious dimension there was the hope and promise of Vatican Two, and in the Society and the Province the hard-won renewal set in motion by GCs31 and GC32; all of this to be followed by turmoil in the Church and in the Society, and in our relationship with the Vatican, leading to the resignation of Arrupe and its aftermath. Locally there was the spectre of Child Sexual Abuse. The list could continue endlessly. How did John respond to these situations which were not of his making, not part of the plan?

In the seventies a commentator on religious life observed that the contemporary religious would suffer the loss of many things cherished: colleagues, vocations, institutions, thriving apostolic works etc. So it has been, and John's stance was to face the difficulties and diminishments within the Province and the Church honestly, without growing cynical or indifferent. Ignatius speaks of “courage in difficult enterprises” and John had that. He worked energetically against the corporate depression which can accompany diminishing numbers and their consequences. Long before GC35 he promoted the renewal of the Province with a project titled “Sparks Light Fires” and no one who attended Province events over the past decade will have failed to notice John's recurring bidding prayer for an increase in vocations.

Closer to home was the untimely death of his sister Margot. Then on Good Friday 2007 there was the Loyola fire and the loss of everything, including for him eighteen treasured volumes of photos of family, friends, Irish Jesuits etc. (cf the interview he gave to Paul Andrews, shortly after the fire, but not published until one year later - Summer 2008, Interfuse #136) It was his mammoth task with Bill Toner, John Maguire and others, to deal with the curial aftermath of the fire, to find new premises for the community, and to help each member to find appropriate ways of coping. This he did by gathering us regularly for a Revision de vie, followed by a Eucharist and a meal, together with some sessions in post-traumatic stress. He dealt with all of this in a healthy matter-of-fact way, though he used to refer to the fire as the elephant in the corner - something he had not yet fully integrated, despite his dedicated efforts at (retail therapy' on that Good Friday afternoon.

The Perfect Patient
In May 2008 he had a knee replacement; this meant the end of motorcycling, hard for him but there were no complaints. In August his incipient deafness was noticed and humbly acknowledged. In October, out of the blue, began his final illness. He was massively practical about it: “The news is bad!” “I'm going home to die!” “This is how it is. We'll see”. He had to let go of a planned trip to the Holy Land, though he sneaked a “pilgrimage” with his sister to Fatima in early December, and regaled us afterward with tales of the delights of a Lisbon hotel.

John was the perfect patient. One morning at breakfast, weeks before he died, I said to him: “You're very patient”. He replied: “What else can one do?” “Well”, I said, ferreting around in my own feelings and drawing on my Kubler-Ross theories about stages of dying, “you could choose depression or rage or self-pity?” “I'd hate that”, he said. Days before his death, when his breathing had become difficult, a visitor asked him how he was feeling. “Smashing!” was the one-word reply.

Sickness is no less a gift than health: so said Ignatius rather tersely. Perhaps those who were close to him saw something of the meaning of that. “Let them give no less edification in sickness than in health” for there was much to be learnt from him on how to face sickness. And good things came out of this tragedy of his sickness and dying. He was amazed at the outpouring of concern, prayer and compassion for himself. he couldn't see why this should be. But people found him lovable, presumably because they experienced that he loved them. He never knew that in his last days many of the Jesuits in Cherryfield had said that they would cheerfully have taken his place – they were retired and ill, whereas he had still so much potential.

Joy
So much for the outer side of his life. What about the inside? At the end of all his letters as Assistant to the Provincial, John had the slogan: Working for God on earth may not pay much, but the retirement plan is out of this world! John never got to elaborate on the Retirement Plan, for he was not an eschatological speculator, but perhaps he would have agreed with the earlier John Donne, 1572 - 1631, who wrote:

Death, be not proud: though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so...
And soonest our best men with thee do go...
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more: death, thou shalt die.

So what did he wake to? To the welcome and congratulations of those gone before him, Jesuits and family and friends, as he staggered over the line on December 27th. Then the multiple overwhelming by God: “the Lover gives all to the beloved” as Ignatius says at his mystic and cryptic best. Next, one can imagine John sniffing the air for hints as to where the great banquet might be set! Then there's the unalloyed joy of great companionship, the excitement of the vastness of the world of God, agility of body and so on. Then a commissioning - placed over many things and asked by God to be a caring presence to the rest of us until we meet him again. John loved celebrations: he is now celebrating endlessly on the inside what we celebrate fitfully and in hope. He is all Joy.

Here is another farewell, different, spoken by Jim O'Higgins at John's Month's Mind, and copied as it was forwarded:

Fifty years ago the face of welcome
In his solid frame, from John the delegate
To call my name and he greeted me
To that large Kildare domain
The prefect later on, that John
sent out again to ease the tense
the taut and restrain the mini gangs

John the true disciple of Loyola
Guidance counselled young hope
from west to east and once again
he's called to mediate between
the grief of parents of the suicided child
Or the dumbfounded ire of the mother
of a manslaughtered son and the why
the what of that God of his
and his own priestly purpose
Or ask in whose image we are made
or where was The Virgin in the keep
at Lourdes on that drowning day

John, called to jollify and feast with
with friends, a Friar Tuck, called
Bonzo, Buster or, with bourgeois respectability, Fr. Bun
The love of Table talk in his so communitaire
of duties in an S.J. house or sitting
in a kitchen ,one leg on the bench
and, not quite a keg ,upon the table
Or in the deep affection of his
nieces and proud nephew in Dublin
six, fourteen, or four of Tullamore
And for the many pieces de resistance
He could rely on his beloved Anne to
see him well ensconced in some
exotic Resto or Hotel Excelsior
Or in sweet Silverdale
Or Long Island Sound

John gifted with the rooted gem
of insight in himself so he could discern
what he could do within
what was beyond his reach
he humbled hubris and defaced its mask
in a paradox of earthy tongue
relating us and our mere creaturehood
To Immanence and Who it was we served
Chuckling his falstaffian way
to his next set of minutes or report

John called to be the techie in I.T.
The Socius systems, Sounder out
The teller of the truth without the frills
And yet again being sent on far flung
Flights with postcards from the edge
in misspelt greetings from some land
remembering and reminding us
in that unsure hand of what we are to him
and we know now what he is to us

John who could be nothing but a goodly man
You leave us for a while on the day of your
own feast of John loved Disciple.

Another appreciation, different in style, from Michael Hurley:
The thoughtfulness of the following letter from John is deeply moving; the circumstances make it more so, and the strained light heartedness at the beginning and end makes it still more moving.

Dear Michael,
May we bury the hatchet for the moment in exchange for prayers for my tryst with the medicos, hopefully from tomorrow. Learnt this morning of liver trouble and bile duct blockage — yellow as a canary, I am. This is by way of communicating!
John A. Dunne, SJ (September 25, 2008 4.51 pm)

The bone of contention between John and myself was my continuing emphasis on communication in the Province, or, rather (as I experienced it), the lack of such communication: in particular between M and the rest of us. I had suggested a Curia Newsletter and sent him a draft of a letter about the matter - which I thought of sending to a Delegate - and later a draft of a few words I might possibly say at a Delegates Friday lunch. He didn't like my drafts, especially a suggestion that if we knew what was happening at IMI we might be less worried about whether our (sic) money was being used responsibly.

Preparations for the visit of the Assistant halted these discussions. What happened next was that Kevin O'Rourke, our Rector, sharing some of my concern, made arrangements for a visit here of three of the delegates; he did so independently but with the knowledge and encouragement of John. This turned out to be a very happy, successful, community event at which I took the liberty of broaching the idea of a Curia Newsletter.

John and I were not at daggers drawn, far from it, but his letter, so remarkably thoughtful, so magnanimous, did enable us, in the time he had left, to communicate not only amicably but affectionately. Which I trust will continue.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2009

Obituary

John Dunne SJ

Fr. John Dunne died on the 27th of December 2008. His death drew condolences from near and far, not just within Ireland, but also from as far away as Zambia and Malawi. However, it will be his contribution to Gonzaga which will receive most attention here.

He came from Summerhill, Co. Meath, received his early education in Trim and then went to Clongowes. He entered the Jesuits in 1962, studied Arts in U.C.D., with a particular interest in archaeology. He was ordained in 1974, which was followed by a year at Mater Dei, studying Guidance Counselling, which became a lifelong interest.

He taught at the Crescent College Comprehensive for six years, during which he took up a course in Computer Studies. Computers fascinated him for the rest of his life.

He was superior in Colaiste Iognaid, Galway from 1981-1987, and in Gonzaga from 1993-1998, where he spent 14 years in all. From 2002-2008 he was superior in Loyola House, Eglinton Road, where he was Socius (assistant) to the Provincial. All told, he taught for 28 years and was superior for 17. After 46 years of Jesuit life, he died of cancer, aged 64.

He saw himself as an ordinary man. He was not an academic. He liked the quip “you can tell an intellectual, but you can't tell him much!” His Yes was Yes, and his No was a definite No. He could be devastatingly honest and gruff “like an angry bear” as someone said, “but a teddy-bear beneath it all”. He could get mad with “eejits” but the squall would pass and blue skies return. He travelled unencumbered by the baggage of resentment or self-pity.

It was in 1987 that he came to Gonzaga, remaining here for fourteen years. He was superior of the Jesuit community from 1993 to 1998. He made many contributions to the life of the school, but particularly in Career Guidance, Computer Studies, pastoral care and photography.

He was a very active member of the Career Guidance Association, being its president for many years. He transformed the place of such guidance in Gonzaga, and is remembered very genuinely and gratefully by many of the past pupils because of his professional services.

It was Fr. John who basically introduced Computer Studies to the school. He began with the staff, and many of his colleagues have expressed their indebtedness to him. The acquisition of equipment and its location provided many problems, but John's optimism overcame them all. That having been achieved he offered evening classes to interested parents.

In the field of pastoral care he involved himself in many areas. He brought groups of 6th year boys to London with the annual Dublin pilgrimage. He developed what was known as the “urban plunge”, where 6th years lived in the inner city. He organized retreats for the senior students and it was under Fr. John that the practice of having a "forum" for the parents of each year was initiated and which has proved such a blessing for both school and parents.

Throughout the school year he was always on the watch-out for the opportunity of a good photograph. Many a "Gonzaga Record” benefited from his enthusiasm. It was most unfortunate that most of his collection was lost in the fire at Loyola House, Eglinton Road on Good Friday 2007.

He had a sabbatical year 2001-2002 where he first studied at Berkeley, California, and then travelled to various Jesuit missions in Asia and Africa. Later in 2002 he was appointed Socius to Fr. Provincial and became superior of the community there. He made the Province much more email friendly, thereby improving its efficiency. In October 2008 he was diagnosed with cancer, but he continued working. On the 19th December he was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge Nursing Home, where he died on Saturday 27th December, the feast of St. John the Evangelist.

Good came out of his sickness and dying. He was amazed at the outpouring of concern, prayer and compassion for himself; he could not see why this should be. He never knew that in his last days many of the Jesuits in Cherryfield had said that they could cheerfully have taken his place - they were retired and ill, whereas he had still so much potential. Yet this brief account shows that John did indeed fulfil his potential in a most varied and generous way. He was truly a blessing for all in Gonzaga College SJ.

JAB SJ

Ó Duibhir, Seán T, 1921-2007, Jesuit priest and Irish language editor

  • IE IJA J/583
  • Person
  • 21 April 1921-23 October 2007

Born: 21 April 1921, Caledonian Place, Limerick City, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1939, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1953, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 05 November 1977, St Ignatius, Leeson Street, Dublin
Died: 23 October 2007, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Editor of An Timire, 1949-71.

Part of the Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death.

Rumley, Brendan, 1959-1999, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/614
  • Person
  • 12 December 1959-24 June 1999

Born: 12 December 1959, Ballymacoda, County Cork
Entered: 27 September 1977, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Ordained: 03 August 1992, St Francis Xavier, Gardiner St, Dublin
Died: 24 June 1999, Mater Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Belvedere College SJ, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1987 at Asunción, Paraguay (PAR) Regency teaching
by 1990 at Belo Horizonte, Brazil (BRA) studying
by 1993 at Asunción Paraguay (PAR) working
by 1997 at Cristo Rey College, Tacna, Peru (PER) working

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 105 : Special Edition 2000

Obituary
Fr Brendan Rumley (1959-1999)

12th Dec. 1959: Born in Cork City.
Early Education, Ring College, Castlemartyr College, Clongowes Wood College.
27th Sept. 1977: Entered the Society at Manresa House.
27th Sept. 1979: First vows at Manresa House.
1979 - 1982: Sullivan House, Arts degree at UCD
1982 - 1985: Milltown Park, study philosophy
1985 - 1987; Clongowes, Regency
1987 - 1989: Paraguay, teaching in Colegio Tecnico Javier.
1989 - 1993: Brazil, study theology.
30th Aug. 1992: Ordained priest, S.F.X. Church, Dublin.
1993 - 1997: Paraguay, Pastoral Director, parish work.
1997 - 1998: Peru, Pastoral Director, parish work.
1998 - 1999: Belvedere College, pastoral work at S.F.X, Church.

Brendan returned from Peru in January 1998 and lived in Belvedere. While he had some health problems, he was sufficiently well to go to the U.S.A. that summer to do supply work. While there, his health deteriorated. On his return to Dublin, he was diagnosed to have lymphoma (cancer of the lymph glands) Thereafter he stayed either in Belvedere or with his brother or at Cherryfield Lodge. He went periodically to have special treatment at the Mater Hospital. Members of his family together with Joe Dargan and Myles O' Reilly were with him when he died on the morning of 24th June 1999.

Kevin O'Higgins writes ...

Brendan was a member of the Belvedere Community for eighteen months. He died in June 1999 aged 39 years. Our vigil went on for six months. It began on a cold January day, when we heard the shocking news that Brendan had been diagnosed with a life-threatening form of cancer. It ended on a bright morning in late June, when he drew his last breath and went quietly on his way.

Nothing in Brendan's life had been so undramatic as the manner in which he departed it. In Paraguay, where we worked together for almost ten years, he was regarded as a live wire. He always seemed to be planning some sort of event. He had the knack of living life as if it were a never ending fiesta. Maybe that is why he felt so at home in fun-loving Latin America. Like the good people of Asuncion's poorest barrios, Brendan knew how to turn water into wine. When it came to choosing the gospel text for his funeral Mass, we had no hesitation in opting for the account of the marriage feast at Cana.

Brendan's Christianity was essentially joyful, and he had a horror of solemnity and formality. He was captivated by the itinerant preacher from Nazareth, and felt distinctly uncomfortable in the midst of ecclesiastical pomp and circumstance. He liked to keep things simple and to see people enjoying themselves.

We had gone together to Paraguay in 1986, responding to an urgent appeal for Jesuit reinforcements. The dictatorial government of Alfredo Stroessner had recently expelled a group of our Spanish colleagues. Brendan and myself hoped to fill the gap and help to keep the show on the road. Our arrival in Paraguay opened the door to a whole new world and introduced us to an endless series of experiences of the kind which leave you marked for life.

Brendan was in his mid-twenties when we arrived in Paraguay. Ordination as a priest was still several years off, but that did not prevent him from plunging head-long into the task at hand. He was assigned immediately to work as pastoral director in a large secondary school and was an instant hit with students and teachers alike. His infectious optimism and can-do attitude quickly translated into a whole host of projects.

When he saw that the school was in need of a library, he enlisted the help of some friends in his home town in County Cork, and the Ballymacoda Library blossomed in far off Asuncion. The introduction of an electric kettle turned his little office into a coffee shop, permanently open to all and sundry. His creativity and energy transformed school retreats and special liturgies into memorable, life giving celebrations.

During his years as theology student in Brazil, Brendan launched out in new directions. He began accompanying lay people in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, and even devised his own manual. The idea caught on, and by the time he left Brazil some thirty Jesuit students were engaged in this ministry. During the final weeks of his illness, messages from Brazil and elsewhere spoke of how Brendan's wise and gentle guidance through the Exercises had transformed people's lives.

Brendan's first mission after ordination was back in Paraguay. Priesthood meant that his ministry was enriched by the celebration of the Eucharist and other sacraments. He initiated the custom of early morning mass in the college chapel. At weekends, he exercised his ministry among the poor.

He had a great gift for comforting the afflicted. When a teaching colleague fell victim to a fatal disease and had to be moved to hospital in Brazil, Brendan thought nothing of facing the twenty-hour bus journey to be at his side. He did this trip repeatedly, departing on Friday evenings after completing his work in the College, and returning on Sunday nights, ready to face the following week's challenges.

His last years were spent in Tacna, a small city on the border between Peru and Chile. The rapid increase of Paraguayan Jesuits had led him to wonder whether there might not be a greater need elsewhere. In Tacna, he felt even more at home than in Asuncion. Undoubtedly, he would have spent long years there had illness not intervened. Even while he was undergoing chemotherapy in Dublin, his friends in Peru constantly assured him that they would be happy to take care of him should he wish to return there.

Brendan himself never stopped hoping that he would be able to return. He had vowed to serve the people of Tacna, and he constantly continued to do so right up to the end, in sickness as in health. When it became clear that he was too weak to face the journey, his friends pooled resources to send a representative to Dublin, They wanted him to know how close they were to him in his own time of need.

Right up to the end, Brendan spoke of his strong desire to carry on living and continue his ministry. Even as he grew progressively weaker, he insisted on organising small fiestas for groups of friends. His sense of humour remained undiminished, and he was able to mock his illness. He simply refused to acknowledge defeat. His love of life prepared him to face death with extraordinary courage and deep, unwavering faith. That was his parting gift to his friends.

Interfuse No 103 : Winter 1999

REMEMBERING BRENDAN

Michael O’Sullivan

Arica in Chile and Tacna in Peru are just across the border from one another. I was back in Arica for the first time in fifteen years at the end of August 1999. A requiem Mass for Brendan Rumley was held in Tacna on September 17th. At 6.45 a.m. that morning I set out for Tacna. Crossing the Chilean border around 7.30 a.m., I arrived in Tacna at 7.45 a.m. Pedro Barreto, the 'Superior' of the community met me at Cristo Rey College, where Brendan worked. Gerry, one of Brendan's brothers, had arrived the evening before and was staying with a Peruvian family, and Clem, another brother, had been delayed, but was expected at the college around 11.30 a.m. Clem would be bringing the urn with Brendan's partial remains - Brendan's ashes had been divided among his family, the Irish Province, and the college in Tacna.

Pedro spoke about how much Brendan meant to them in the community and in the college, As I listened it became clear that Brendan had a good friend in Pedro, someone who accompanied him with understanding, care, and feeling in the transition from Paraguay to Peru, from Asuncion to Tacna. He would receive Brendan in death back to Cristo Rey, he had prepared for it, and he had got permission from the Bishop for Brendan's ashes to remain in the chapel for always. He showed me a letter from Brendan to him about a year earlier where Brendan spoke about his hope of returning to Tacna. Pedro read from this letter at the liturgy.

Pedro and I and two members of the community met and welcomed Brendan and his brothers Clem and Gerry at the entrance arch to the section of the compound leading to the college auditorium where the Mass was to be celebrated. Staff and students carrying college flags gathered behind the Rumley brothers.

In the Waiting
We all stood in silence for a time while Pedro spoke about how the liturgy would proceed. As I looked at Clem I wondered what it was like for him to travel to Peru with his brother in an urn. My mind also went back to March 1982 when I was about to leave Ireland to live and work among the poor in Chile at a time when that country was in the grip of the death-dealing military dictatorship of General Pinochet. A Mass of farewell was held in St. Francis Xavier Church, Dublin. Brendan, who was not long in the Society at the time, was at the Mass, his desire to minister in Latin America developing in his heart.

I was very happy that I could be in Tacna for him now and that I could make the link on behalf of the Irish Jesuit Province between his funeral Mass and burial in Dublin and his requiem Mass and the placing of the urn in the Jesuit college in Tacna.

I thought of the amazing impact he had made on so many in a relatively short time in Tacna which I had learnt so much more about in the hours before the Mass. All those who spoke to me, including students, singled out this quality in Brendan: his speed at making friends. He had an amazing ability to make friends with many different kinds of people within and outside the college. The other qualities mentioned often were his simplicity and his kindness. He would do things like take cups of tea or coffee to others on a tray, which is not usual for a man feel better. They spoke about how he built up the college library, which has now been renamed 'The Library of Brendan'. His smile, too, was singled out, and his dedication and enthusiasm.

Hernan Salinas Paiza, a teacher who was sent to Brendan in Dublin when he was ill on behalf of the staff, had told me that Brendan had broken a mould by being the first Director of Pastoral Care to also address the needs of the staff. This was repeated to me by other lay staff whom I met before the Mass. They were all visibly upset at Brendan's death.

I also thought of Declan Deane's words to me when we met in Dublin during his visit to Ireland shortly after Brendan died, that he had never met anyone who had become so completely Latin American. Brendan had stayed with Declan in the United States when he was ill before the cancer had been diagnosed.

I thought of Kevin O'Higgins who had been with him for years in Paraguay and who arrived back in Ireland around the time that Brendan was diagnosed with cancer. Kevin had accompanied Brendan all through those final months in a way that, it seemed to me, no other Irish Jesuit could. This was a great consolation to Brendan, and something for which all of us in the Irish Province can be very grateful. Kevin has written his own tribute to Brendan in the November 1999 issue of the Irish Messenger

I thought of the tenacity with which Brendan had fought for life in Kieran and Miriam's home in Terenure, and later in Cherryfield. The last time I saw him in Cherryfield I knew that, medically, he was near the end, I had phoned him that morning to know if he would receive a visit around 6 p.m. I said that John Henry, a Maryland Jesuit, who was a friend of mine working in Arica and whom he knew as a result of visits to Arica from Tacna, was in Dublin and wished to see him. When we got to Cherryfield Brendan had some letters on the bed for John to bring to people in Arica and Tacna. He was that strong, that focused, that thoughtful, and that giving to the end.

Brendan died in the prime of his life, a few months before his 40th birthday. He had lived and worked in Tacna for only two years. And yet back in Dublin as he fought terminal cancer his great desire was for Tacna to be his place of departure for eternity. When his condition meant that he could not travel, his dying wish was that some of his remains would do so instead. He did not want to be separated from those he loved in Tacna, and he knew that they in their love would want him with them. His friend, Hernan, had said as much in his tribute to Brendan that morning in the Tacna newspaper, Prensa Sur: “The delight Brendan felt for the people of Tacna was mutual. It was a delight of giving and receiving, of loving and of being worthy of that love”.

The Farewell in Tacna
Around 12.15 p.m., the procession to the auditorium began. “Hermano del Alma’, Soul Brother/Sister, sung by Roberto Carlos, accompanied us through the college sound system. As we entered the auditorium the soft sound of one of Latin America's best known singers gave way to the power and strength of the College band.

Tributes
Pedro invited me to speak at the beginning of the Mass and again after the reception of the Eucharist. He told the congregation that I was representing the Irish Jesuit Province and had a message from the Provincial in Ireland. This let the people know that the Irish Province recognized Brendan's gifts and valued him as much as they did. It also made them feel good about themselves.

The message relayed by me on behalf of Gerry O'Hanlon spoke of the bond in the Spirit between the Mass congregation and Irish Jesuits, due to a shared desire to give thanks for Brendan's life of giving and happiness; it said that they would miss Brendan as much as we would; it drew attention to how much it meant to Brendan that so many prayers and messages of support from Tacna came to him during his illness in Ireland, and how much it lifted him to receive a visit from Hernan Salinas on behalf of his colleagues at the College. The last words of the message were: “in solidarity with you in prayer, sadness, gratitude, and friendship”.

In his homily Pedro told the congregation that Brendan was with them still, not only in his remains, but also and even more so in what he meant to each of them in their minds and hearts.

A short video of Brendan and his work followed. This was one of the most moving parts of the whole ceremony as we saw Brendan animating and addressing groups, listening and speaking to people, in prayer and celebrating Mass, and carrying a tray of drinks to children with his distinctive smile and enthusiastic movement.

His brother Gerry spoke for the family, and Hernan translated. He brought them quickly through the story of Brendan's life and did so with humour and a great sense of pride in his younger brother.

The Director of Formation at the College spoke about how he had met Brendan when they were travelling to a conference in Bolivia for delegates of Jesuit schools. This was while Brendan was still in Paraguay. Brendan's capacity to make friends quickly meant that they became friends and he invited Brendan to Tacna. Brendan came, and now he would remain there always.

Two women also paid tribute to Brendan. They did so without words. They were the widow and mother of a man whom Brendan accompanied over many months during the man's struggle with cancer. They were at the front of the congregation where those closest to the deceased tend to be. They were mourning him as one of their own.

Entrusting Brendan to the People of Tacna
During the offertory of the Mass, Clem came forward and gave me the gift of Brendan. He entrusted me with him on behalf of the Rumiley family. I received Brendan on behalf of his Jesuit companions from Ireland. Pedro then took the urn from me on behalf of Brendan's Jesuit companions in Peru, and placed it on the small table in front of the altar. Brendan had gone from Cork to Tacna via the Irish Province. We had done what he had wanted us to do, namely, share him, so that he could remain in Tacna for always.

The offertory procession also included a map of Latin America, taken from Brendan's office. The commentator said, “today we want to present it to you, Lord, as an offering and testimony of the service of our brother”.

After the final song, “Holy Mary of the Journey”, we processed to the College chapel. Inside Pedro told us that Brendan used to come there in the early mornings to celebrate Mass. The Director of the college gave a final tribute, and Pedro showed where Brendan's remains would lie. Because the urn turned out to be bigger than expected it could not be placed there straight away. That would be done later after the space provided had been altered.

The inscription where the urn will stay reads: “UN HOMBRE PARA Y CON LOS DEMAS” - “A MAN FOR AND WITH OTHERS”. Prensa Sur had pointed out that day that laying Brendan's ashes to rest in the college chapel was "an act without precedent in the history of the Society of Jesus in Tacna." Brendan's dates of birth and death are also given. Pedro pointed out that Brendan's birthday, December 12"", was the important date because, for a Christian, to be born is to be born to eternal life. An IHS emblem can also be seen. Amen! Alleluia!

It was now 2.25 p.m. The whole ceremony had lasted almost two and a half hours. It was an extraordinary and unique tribute by people from Peru to a young Irish Jesuit from Cork in their own language and land. The Latin American spring was about to begin, and the sun was shining, but not oppressively.

◆ The Clongownian, 2000

Obituary

Father Brendan Rumley SJ

When I arrived in Clongowes as Higher Line Prefect, Brendan was starting his final year at school. In his final report he was described by that official as being “ever-courteous - friendly - impeccably-mannered - helpful - but not very involved in games!” He was something of an academic and won the O'Dalaigh Cup for Irish conversation. Apart from urbane conversations, one of his co-curricular interests was the Stewart's Hospital group, which paid a weekly visit to the patients in Palmerstown. My memory is of a serious face suddenly widening into a lightning smile, like the sun on a cloudy day!

It was only in the final months of the year that I came to know him better, when - out of the blue - he told me one evening that he was considering joining the Jesuits and would like to ask me a few questions. For me it turned out to be a real inquisition - and those who know Brendan's tenacity of spirit will readily recog nize what that experience meant for the victim!

Having followed the usual initial formation pattern of a Jesuit - novitiate - university - philosophy, in due course Brendan came to Clongowes as Third Line Prefect in 1985 - the year when I myself left on sabbatical to the Sudan and Zambia. I don't think that he was ever fully at home in the job, for his wanderlust was already calling him to a ministry further afield.

So, the following year, he set off for South America, which was to become his home for the rest of his fully active life. He completed his regency at the Colegio Tecnico Javier in Asunción in Paraguay and in 1989 went on to study theology in Belo Horizonte in Brazil. He returned to Ireland for ordination in 1992 and became Pastoral Director in the Colegio Tecnico. But his urge to move on took him to Peru, where he continued the same kind of work in the Colegio Cristo Rey in Tacna.

He returned to Ireland in December of 1997 and it was while staying in Belvedere that the first signs of illness appeared. But it was not until nearly a year later that his terminal illness was diagnosed. I was with him on the day when the news was broken to him and was privileged to share those first moments and to come to realize the steel which lay beneath his “unobtrusive” surface. In the months to come Brendan showed remarkable fortitude and even good humour in his increasingly weakened state. He died early on the morning of 24 June 1999.

I don't think that I have ever met anyone who made friends as easily as Brendan did. He had an infectious spontaneity which invited response. He drew from his friends a great loyalty towards himself and they found him generous and supportive in their own need. No trouble was too great for him when coming to their aid, especially those who were sick. He was often considered to have a very stubborn streak and this was well exemplified when he thought nothing of making a 72-hour round trip to visit an ill colleague faraway. Even when seriously ill himself, he continued to maintain links with his large circle of friends in South America and in Tacna his friends organized a special pilgrimage for his recovery. But it was not to be - and the outpouring of grief there at his passing was eloquent testimony of how highly he was thought of by those to whom he had given his life. His ashes are shared between the Jesuit plot at Glasnevin, his birthplace-village of Ballymacoda and his chosen home of Tacna.

To quote from the Book of Wisdom, Brendan's death at the early age of 39 “seemed like a disaster” for his life was so full of promise But, like Aloysius, Patron Saint of Clongowes, he had “accomplished a lot in a short space of time” - and his life was an inspiration to everyone who knew him. The Book of Wisdom can again provide a fitting epitaph for him: “When the time comes for God's visitation, he will shine out”.

To Brendan's parents and his brothers and their families, we offer our deepfelt sympathy and we thank them for giving him his infectious smile and for sharing him with us. His travellings are over - may he rest in peace!