Coleraine

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4 Name results for Coleraine

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Begley, Henry, 1835-1893, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/914
  • Person
  • 21 June 1835-25 January 1893

Born: 21 June 1835, Coleraine, County Derry
Entered: 17 April 1852, Grand Coteau & Baton-Rouge LA, USA - Lugdunensis Province (LUGD)
Ordained: 1866, Natchitoches LA, USA
Professed: 15 August 1872
Died: 25 January 1893, St Mary's University, Galveston TX, USA - Neo-Aurelianensis Province (NOR)

In HIB by 1871 making Tertianship at Milltown Park

Deane, Declan, 1942-2010, former Jesuit priest, and priest of the Oakland Diocese, CA, USA

  • Person
  • 14 May 1942-12 December, 2010

Born: 14 May 1942, Bunnacurry, Achill, County Mayo
Entered: 07 September 1959, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 23 June 1972, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 25 April 1985, Iona, Portadown, County Down
Died: 12 December, 2010, Christ the King Church in Pleasant Hill, CA, USA (Oakland Diocese)

Left Society of Jesus: 1999

Educated at Mungret College SJ

by 1965 at Chantilly France (GAL S) studying
by 1974 at Cambridge MA, USA (NEB) working
by 1975 at Berkeley CA, USA (CAL) studying
by 1981 at Oakland CA, USA (CAL) making Tertianship
by 1993 at San Ramon CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1996 at Fremont CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1996 at Moraga CA, USA (CAL) working

https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/people/teacher-of-ecumenics-and-pastoral-worker-in-north-1.588845

Teacher of ecumenics and pastoral worker in North

FR DECLAN Deane, who has died aged 68, was best known in Ireland for his work as a teacher at the Irish Schol of Ecumenics

FR DECLAN DEANE:FR DECLAN Deane, who has died aged 68, was best known in Ireland for his work as a teacher at the Irish School of Ecumenics and his pastoral work with the Jesuit community in Portadown, near the Garvaghy Road.

Director of the school’s Northern Ireland programme, he believed that as far as a church followed the example of Jesus, it was a distinctly Christian church. It was Christian when it refused to acquiesce in the boundaries imposed by a politically segregated society but took a lead in breaking through them.

In 1983, he urged Catholic clergy and people to take the lead in crossing the boundaries as they had greater freedom to do so.

A strong critic of paramilitary violence and its apologists, he nevertheless signed a letter of protest against strip-searching in Northern Ireland’s prisons. Likewise, he was, in 1988, a signatory to a letter deploring the British government’s decision to conceal the findings of a report into the killings of six unarmed men in 1982.

His talents were multiple and often unexpected – a national champion at Scrabble, a passionate observer of horse racing and a prodigious memory for cards – so much so that he was banned from some tables in Las Vagas.

Declan Deane was born in Dublin in 1942 but grew up on Achill Island and was educated at Mungret College, Limerick. He began his two-year novitiate in 1959. He then went to UCD after which he studied philosophy at Chantilly near Paris and theology at Milltown Park, Dubin, where he was ordained in 1972.

After ordination he became one of the first students at the recently-established School of Ecumenics, and graduated in 1973 with the Hull University postgraduate degree of B.Phil. He pursued doctoral studies in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Berkeley, California.

During this time he developed a special interest in the ecumenical theology of the French Jesuit theologian, Henri de Lubac (later to be made a cardinal), with particular reference to his understanding of Buddhism.

In 1980 he was appointed lecturer in continuing education at the School of Ecumenics and for most of the 1980s taught in the school’s certificate course of the then New University of Ulster.

He lived as a member of the Jesuit community in the Garvaghy estate in Portadown. Very popular as a teacher and as a priest, he enjoyed the friendship of Catholics and Protestants, nationalists and unionists.

In 1989 he moved to Dublin where he did youth retreat work.However, in search of more theological freedom than he felt in Ireland (he was always a strong advocate of women priests), he moved to California in 1992. Later he formally left the Jesuits to become a diocesan priest in the diocese of Oakland, California.

He enjoyed pastoral work and was popular with all his parishioners. He is remembered for his dry sense of humour, thought-provoking homilies and easy-going manner. He was most recently attached to Christ the King Church, Pleasant Hill, California.

https://gladysganiel.com/irish-catholic-church/in-memory-of-fr-declan-deane/

In Memory of Fr Declan Deane

Fr Declan Deane, a former lecturer and student at the Irish School of Ecumenics, passed away this week of cancer. Fr Deane was serving at Christ the King Church in Pleasant Hill, California.

A native of Dublin, he grew up on Achill Island and was ordained a Jesuit in 1972. He was one of the first students to enrol on the Irish School of Ecumenics’ programme in Dublin. During the 1980s he lived as a Jesuit in Portadown and taught on the Irish School of Ecumenics’ Adult Education course in Northern Ireland.

Fr Deane immigrated to the US in 1992 and worked in five parishes before his death. A memorial on the Christ the King webpage describes him this way:

Despite his struggle with esophageal cancer, despite his being first on chemo and then a seven month hospice patient, Declan steadily did more and more rather than less and less. He continued to take his turn at weekly confessions; he returned to weekday masses especially with our school children, including the classroom preparation that went with that. Just a few short days before his death, he preached at all six weekend masses, concelebrated three and was outside greeting and visiting with parishioners for all the masses. To that he added the Monday morning mass and two days with visits to school and classrooms. To those who advised him to slow down and do less, his response was , “that is the way I want to be remembered” and “when I promise I’m going to do something and be somewhere, I always do it”.

I never met Fr Deane. But I can appreciate the energy and dedication that he must have exhibited in helping to get the ISE’s Northern Irish work off the ground. He is remembered fondly by many colleagues and former students.

https://jesuit.ie/news/parting-from-declan-2/ December 21, 2010

Parting from Declan

Declan Deane, who died in California on 12 December, had been an Irish Jesuit for over thirty years, before joining the diocese of Oakland. He is remembered with deep affection and regard by many friends, especially in N.Ireland, where he worked with the Irish School of Ecumenics. His talents were multiple, often unexpected: a national champion at Scrabble, a passionate observer of horses, a prodigious memory for cards at the gaming tables of Las Vegas, such that the bankers had him banned. But above all he was a priest, who during his struggle with esophageal cancer took on more and more ministry. A few days before his death he preached at all six weekend Masses, concelebrated three, heard confessions and greeted the parishioners at the door. His funeral was a huge and emotional occasion, as Donal Godfrey SJ reports:

Last Thursday I represented the Society at the Mass of Christian burial for Declan Deane. The Church of Christ the King in Pleasant Hill, where Declan had most recently served, was packed with two bishops, priests, and so many friends from the parishes where Declan had served. The homilist, Fr. Gerrry Moran in the Oakland Diocese and like Declan from Achill island, spoke of the life of Declan in very moving terms. We heard how at first Declan had objected to working with Gerry as pastor but eventually they became close friends. The homily was interrupted with applause on a number of occasions. The Bishop Emeritus, John Cummins, spoke of the wonderful Jesuit formation Declan had received, quoted Pedro Arrupe in connecting Declan’s strong social conscience and his gift of bringing contemporary theology alive to a wider audience. Declan’s brother John came from Ireland and told us how he had sent a card to Declan with a Christmas poem written especially for him that he discovered unopened in his room. John ended his words with the poem. Afterwards the parish held a wonderful reception and then we went to the Holy Angels Cemetery where Declan had told the pastor that he was very happy to be buried next to Frank Houdek, SJ, the man who had “saved him” when he went into recovery as an alchololic. On another note -we have been having wave after wave of rain storms, however for Declan’s funeral it was a sunny mild day. Declan must have arranged that for us as he always loved the sun! Ar dheis De go rabh a ainm dhilis.

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/eastbaytimes/name/declan-deane-obituary?id=32867038 Published by Inside Bay Area on Dec. 15, 2010.

Declan Deane Obituary

Father Declan A. Deane May 14, 1942 ~ Dec. 12, 2010 Pleasant Hill, CA Declan was born in Dublin, Ireland and grew up on Achill Island on the west coast of Ireland. He was ordained as a priest into the Jesuit Order in Dublin in 1972. In his early years of priesthood he devoted his time to issues of faith and justice, including working for peace with Protestants and Catholics during the troubles in Northern Ireland. He also ministered to those in prisons and to those with AIDS. Called to parish ministry, he immigrated to the US and settled in the Diocese of Oakland. His first assignment began in 1992. He served as Associate Pastor in five parishes; St. Joan of Arc, Holy Spirit, St. Monica, All Saints, and most recently Christ the King. He quickly endeared himself to his parishioners and became a much loved, admired and respected priest in every community. People enjoyed his dry sense of humor, the thought-pro-voking depth of his homilies and his easygoing approachable manner. Being a good friend and inclusive to all was important to Declan. When not engaged in ministry Declan made sure to enjoy life. He was a scrabble champ in Ireland, Northern Ireland and England, an avid sports fan and very fond of the horses. He took one day at a time. He is survived by his sister Patricia; brothers John (Ursula) and Raymond (Renate); and nieces and cousins. There will be a parish Mass on Wednesday, December 15 at 11:00am followed by viewing and visitation from 12:00 noon to 7:30pm; Vigil Service at 7:30pm. The Funeral Mass will be at 10:30am on Thursday, December 16, with interment at Queen of Heaven Cemetery at 1:30pm. All services will be at Christ the King Catholic Church, 199 Brandon Road, Pleasant Hill. CA.

Interfuse No 144 : Spring 2011

Obituary

Declan Deane (1942-2010) : former Jesuit

Declan Deane, who has died in California, had been an Irish Jesuit for over thirty years before joining the diocese of Oakland. He is remembered with deep affection and regard by many friends. One measure of this affection; during his final sickness he received 28,000 emails and other messages of support from those who had known and loved him. His talents were multiple, often unexpected: a national champion at Scrabble, a passionate observer of horses, a prodigious memory for cards at the gaming tables of Las Vegas, such that the bankers had him banned. But above all he was a priest, who during his struggle with oesophageal cancer took on more and more ministry. A few days before his death he preached at all six weekend Masses, concelebrated three, heard confessions and greeted the parishioners at the door.

Born in Achill and schooled in Mungret College, where he was elected Head of School in his final year, Declan Deane entered the Jesuits in 1959. He earned a BA in UCD studied philosophy at Chantilly near Paris, and theology at Milltown Park, Dublin where he was ordained priest in 1972. After ordination he did a B.Phil. at the Irish School of Ecumenics (ISE) and doctoral studies in Cambridge, USA, and in Berkeley, California. In these years he developed a special interest in the ecumenical theology of the French Jesuit theologian, Henri de Lubac with particular reference to his understanding of Buddhism. Sadly he never finished his doctoral dissertation, largely because of the disease of alcoholism with which he eventually came to terms.

In Ireland at least Declan was probably best known for his teaching work in the Irish School of Ecumenics (ISE) and his pastoral work in the Jesuit community in Portadown, near the controversial Garvaghy Road. He lived there for most of the 80's, longer than anywhere else, and greatly endeared himself to his students and to the local people, Protestant and Catholic, Nationalist and Unionist. The troubles were then far from over. Despite the troubles, perhaps because of them, he became popular as a teacher and as a priest.

Hoping however for more theological freedom than he felt he enjoyed in Ireland (he was always a strong advocate of women priests) he moved in 1992 to California for parish work. Later in the decade he formally left the Jesuits to join the diocese of Oakland, California. Happily however he always remained in the best of relations with his former Jesuit colleagues and with his lay friends, some of whom flew over to say goodbye to him before he died. We now deeply mourn his early, but sadly not unexpected, death from cancer on 12 December 2010.

His funeral was a huge and emotional occasion, as Donal Godfrey reports: “Last Thursday I represented the Society at the Mass of Christian burial for Declan Deane. The Church of Christ the King in Pleasant Hill, where Declan had most recently served, was packed with two bishops, priests, and so many friends from the parishes where Declan had served. The homilist, Fr. Gerry Moran in the Oakland Diocese and like Declan from Achill island, spoke of the life of Declan in very moving terms. We heard how at first Declan had objected to working with Gerry as pastor but eventually they became close friends. The homily was interrupted with applause on a number of occasions. The Bishop Emeritus, John Cummins, spoke of the wonderful Jesuit formation Declan had received, and quoted Pedro Arrupe in connecting Declan's strong social conscience and his gift of bringing contemporary theology alive to a wider audience. Declan's brother John came from Ireland and told us how he had sent a card to Declan with a Christmas poem written especially for him that he discovered unopened in his room. John ended his words with the poem. Afterwards the parish held a wonderful reception and then we went to the Holy Angels Cemetery where Declan had told the pastor that he was very happy to be buried next to Frank Houdek, SJ, the man who had ‘saved him’ when he went into recovery as an alchololic. On another note - we have been having wave after wave of rain storms, however for Declan's funeral it was a sunny mild day. Declan must have arranged that for us as he always loved the sun! Ár dheis De go rabh a ainm dhilis”.

Robin Boyd of the ISE wrote about Declan:
Declan Deane was a remarkable man, and a dear colleague and friend. He and I shared a birthday – he was exactly twenty years younger than me - and on one memorable occasion we were able to celebrate it together, at an ecumenical clergy conference at Corrymeeala when we shared - and even cut together - a specially made birthday cake.

He took up his duties in charge of the ISE's Northern Ireland programme in 1981, and it was mainly in the North that we saw each other. It was always a delight to visit that small Jesuit community at Iona, a council house in Portadown, with its memories of Paddy Doyle, Brian Lennon, and a host of unexpected visiting trail-blazers from all the Irish Church traditions. For Declan had friends everywhere. I remember one occasion when he came with me to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church. And as we milled around in the clergy-crowded corridor there were delighted and unexpected meetings with Declan's friends among the thronging ministers and elders: I remember especially his happy reunion with Ruth Patterson (the first woman to be ordained as a minister of Word and sacrament in the Irish Presbyterian Church), and Bert Tosh (now senior producer of religious programmes in the BBC, Northern Ireland). Warm, modest to the point of shyness, amusing, and devastatingly honest, he firmly established the ISE's Northern programme in its three main bases of Belfast, Derry and Benburb, making friends wherever he went.

We had many adventures together. One dark night, driving North through Omagh and Strabane, Declan said, “There's a convent I know near here. Let's call on the sisters”. Despite my protest that it was too late, we arrived at the convent and rang the bell. We rang again, and there was no reply. I said, “You see what I mean!” and we drove on. Next day, at our conference, we met one of the sisters, and apologized for ringing their door bell so late. “Och, we were all watching the football” was the answer; Declan knew them better than I did.

On one occasion we did a fund-raising tour in Germany together, staying with German friends of mine in Remscheid, where he quickly made himself at home. The “Tour de France” happened to be going on, and we discovered that Declan was a devotee of the “maillot jaune”. He was also, as befitted a member of a distinguished literary family, a devotee of letters - and numbers. This devotion took a peculiar form: he was fascinated by German car numbers, and quickly worked out their literary and numerical basis, so that before long he could identify the place of origin of every car in the land. “Why?" I asked. “Well, I look forward to the day when I'm at home in Achill, and I see a German car with the family sitting having a picnic, and I'll go up to them and say, “How is everybody in Remscheid today?” We enjoyed that game, and I still do. But I knew better than ever to challenge Declan to a game of Scrabble. His skill there was legendary. In the interests of the ISE we travelled from bishop to bishop, from praese to praeses, from Seminary to Theologische Hochschule, and had a happy reunion in Frankfurt with Fr Gerry O'Hanlon SJ, who was then working on his thesis on Karl Barth. I don't recollect how successful that journey was financially: but it certainly was a trip to remember with great pleasure.

Memorable too were the one or two occasions when my wife Frances and I stayed with Declan in the Jesuit flat normally occupied by Fr Henry Grant in the Newtownbreda area of Belfast. It was full of Henry's tapes of classical music, which delighted Frances. And it was also full of good talk. Declan shared with us his problems: the alcoholism which he had so steadfastly battled and overcome; theology - for he was no stranger to the doubt which is the only real basis of faith; celibacy, women's ministry, relations between the churches. Those were evenings to recall with joy. For Declan was a man who brought warmth and joy to those he met. It was a privilege to have him as a friend, and now to know that he has entered into the joy of his Lord.

O'Connor, Seán B, 1932-1997, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/577
  • Person
  • 26 May 1932-02 January 1997

Born: 26 May 1932, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1964, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1968, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 02 January 1997, Dublin

Part of the Coláiste Iognáid, Galway community at the time of death.

by 1971 at Loyola Chicago, USA (CHG) studying
by 1985 at University of Warwick, England (ANG) studying

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 92 : August 1996

Obituary

An t-Ath Seán B. Ó Conchúir (1932-1997)

26th May 1932: Born in Dublin
Early education; St. Mary's, Athlone and St. Ignatius, Galway
7th Sept. 1950: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1952: First Vows at Emo
1952 - 1955: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD
1955 - 1958: Tullabeg, Studying Philosophy
1958 - 1959: Belvedere: Regency
1959 - 1961: St. Ignatius, Galway, Regency
1961 - 1965: Milltown Park, Studying Theology
31st July 1964: Ordained Priest at Milltown Park
1965 - 1966: Rathfarnham, Tertianship
1966 - 1968: St. Ignatius, Galway: Teacher and MA studies
1968 - 1970: St. Ignatius, Galway: Prefect of Studies
1970 - 1973: Chicago: Doctoral studies in Education
1973 - 1977: Crescent Residence: Director, Research Project at Shannon
1977 - 1978: Crescent Residence : Lecturer in Education at New University of Ulster
1978 - 1980: Galway: University of Ulster work and Pre school project in Irish, Connemara
1980 - 1984: Resident in Connemara: Irish Project work
1984 - 1986: Warwick University Studies
1986 - 1991: Galway: Studies in Lifestart, Gaeltacht Project
1991 - 1997: Carraroe: Director of Lifestart Project and Researcher

There’s a photo in the house of Seán’s sister Mairin, deceased, in Cork, showing four army officers. They are Seán’s grandfather, father and two brothers of his father. One of them, Uncle Patrick, was a member of Michael Collins’ ‘Twelve Apostles’. The four of them played their part in the War of Independence. Sean’s mother (Mary Harper before marriage) was a member of Cumann na mBan (Fellowship of Women) and while still a child was involved in the Easter Rebellion. Sean’s pedigree, therefore, was not so different from that of the Basque, Ignatius of Loyola; a pedigree that begot loyalty, magnanimity, a large and generous heart ready for great deeds and exploits. The Son of God chose someone of that caliber – Thomas the Zealot, and perhaps also two others – James and John, the Sons of Thunder. Would you not think that Jesus has a special feel for someone who is ready to risk their life for a cause? He himself was facing into such a future: ‘I give my life for my sheep.’

That is what I say of Seán O Conchuir of the Society of Jesus; he never slackened, when younger and also in his thirty-two years of priesthood. Always he was searching for what was ‘greater’ and ‘more perfect’ until his strength, health and his very life were spent ‘for the sheep’, and especially for the sheep in the flock of his Lord and Master. In all that work, his soldier-like qualities were patience, gentleness, love, humility and humor, a humor that he could turn on himself with a delightful explosive laugh.

Seán was committed to education (was it not so with Christ?) on every level –primary, secondary and university. He educated himself through diligent study: an MA in the sixties, a doctorate in the eighties. Curriculum development, use of statistics, evaluation of teaching programmes and progression, and of the work of students or trainee teachers; psychology and child-development—he gained a mastery and reputation in all these disciplines.

His achievement, whether in founding ‘Home Education’ and the ‘Life-start Foundation’ -- his most outstanding and effective projects--is all the more remarkable when one considers that he was struck down with rheumatic fever as a child, and was a weak boy who was wheeled along the Prom at Salthill, swathed in blankets. Thus he remained until his early teens, so he could not participate in football or rowing in Colaiste Iognaid. But he began to swim and this improved his health, as did life-saving, which was being taught by Jimmy Cranny and Des Kenny. At the end of secondary school he was strong enough to join the FCA and wear a soldier’s uniform in 1949, the year when the Republic was again proclaimed. In autumn of the following year he and Padraic Mac Donnchadha joined the Jesuit Order in Emo, Portarlington.

Seán was born in Dublin: his father, Ceannphor (Commandant) Sean Ó Conchúir, was ADC to President Sean de hIde.

The family spent a while in Athlone and the father then transferred to the Cead Cath (First Battalion), which was fully Irish, in Galway. Little Seán was sent to Scoil Fhursa, managed by Bean a’Bhreathnaigh. Scoil Fhursa and later Colaiste Iognaid planted in him a love and appreciation for Irish music, dancing and song, which lasted until the end of his life. If you heard him rendering ‘An Bhinsin Luachra’ or ‘Jimmy Mo Mhile Stor’ you would understand that love and appreciation.

The experience that Seán gained of the arts of music and acting through the Feis Cheoil, and later through the Colaiste Iognaid choir, was only an extension of his family’s gifts. There is a dynamism in the family always to celebrate life, especially through close association with nature and the practice of the arts – do you remember Seán performing a solo ballet in Tullabeg? You can see this love of life in the lives and families of his three sisters too – Mairin (the bright light of God be on her), Dairine and Grainne. A permanent feature of the home life of the O’Connors were the Sing Songs. Everyone had their own song or recitation. Any Jesuit who participated in these evenings in the O’Connor home in Galway between 1966 and 1972 will look back on them with appreciation and gratitude, and will especially remember the party-piece which Sean composed and rendered with a strong Claddagh accent. Seán’s creativity blossomed: he produced plays, composed prose pieces, and wrote poetry. One of his philosophy companions in Tullabeg baptized him as ‘The Bard’.

Frequently you would notice that Seán was absorbed in deep thought. He had a great gift of focusing entirely on a person (he was an excellent listener, full of respect for the speaker whether man, woman or child), or on an object or on scenery. To the end of his life every aspect of nature gave him joy, gladness and pleasure. Wild flowers by the roadside or the bare tops of the Beanna Beola or Snowdon would give wings to his heart. Seán steadily cultivated the spirit of the Contemplatio of the Exercises of Ignatius, especially in his final years in Connemara from 1980 onward. ‘To recognize God in all things… working on my behalf’. When I study his beautiful photos of Connemara and its flora, my heart shakes with wonder: he is a man spell-bound by the beauty of creation, a silent beauty which speaks to him of the eternal and mysterious beauty of God. And in his commitment to his calling as a wise man, a teacher and a priest, whose task was to break open and divide this bread of beauty, he spoke of it in images which would take the eye out of your head. He conveyed it to the children of ‘Home Education’ in the form of jigsaws, and in the form of poems for the grown-ups.

Lord, we live out of death;
therefore I say to the animals: ‘You who were tame and gentle
In the meadows yesterday,
You nourish what is beautiful and pure
In me today.’

And I say to the fish:
‘You who were free in the water a short while ago,
You now feed the freedom and agility of my body’.

And I say to the harvest:
'The music you played to the sun in autumn
I sense now as a poem
In the cold winter of life’.

And I say to Christ:
‘The pinnacle of goodness died in your body
But now you clothe the heavens
With white flowers’.

‘And you, Host of Christ on my lips
You are the wine of blood and the seed of flesh,
You are the honey of Easter, you are the sap of youthfulness
You are the flowering branch within me
Which does not wither.’

The beauty of that poem is awesome: it leaves me rooted to the spot. God reveals his secrets to children. I believe that in all his high learning and deep study Seán kept safe within himself the heart and pure mind of a child. It was this that gave him wonderful insight into the essential stages of a child’s development. This is why the programme ‘Home Education’ satisfies the need of children from Connemara to Ballymun, from Wexford to Derry, from Barcelona to Belfast’s Shankill.

Michael Hurley gave heartfelt witness to the reputation Seán had achieved within the various strata of the Six Counties: ‘He made it easier for us to encounter one another and forge bonds of friendship’. His close friends Dolores McGuinness and Aine Downey in Derry put it incisively: ‘There was never anyone like Sean who could move among people without causing them nervousness or fear. He was full of respect for everyone, and he listened to them with total attention.’

In his final days, on his bed of sickness and weakness, I was frequently at his side. The only syllable he could articulate was his heavy breathing, regular and low. But throughout that time he made a living prayer of his hands which were stretched out before him on the bed-clothes: thumbs joined and fingers clasped, as if he had the Body of Christ within his fingers, and Seán steadily gazing on it with the eyes of his soul, constantly focussed on it, endlessly adoring: ‘I adore you, O spirit of fruitfulness, O beautiful One of the heavenly rampart’-- a quotation from ‘Adoramus Te, Christe’ by Daibhi O Bruadair (1625 – 1698): Sean learnt it at the feet of Professor Gerard Murphy in UCD. It was he who opened up for Sean the enchanting treasury of Irish literature and folklore.

And with Gregorian chant as a lullaby, to the very end he made that mysterious sign of his priesthood and his life; offering – as a child shyly offers his little fists to its mother—his labours, sweat, joys, troubles, failures, retraining, petitions, despair, despondency, love, integrity and the achievements of the years.

May the two hands of the Child Jesus enfold you forever, Seán, while He merrily teaches you the beautiful ‘Home Education’ of his own hearth and household.

Translation Brian Grogan SJ

Interfuse No 98 : Autumn 1998

VISIONARY, YES, POLITICIAN, NO

Conall Ó Cuinn

I missed Seán O'Connor's funeral. But this article is not an obituary. It's a reflection about Seán's short time as headmaster of Coláiste Iognáid in Galway for just two academic years, 1968 and 1969, the period immediately following the Prague Spring and the Paris Student Revolution. It corresponded to my own 4th and 5th Form as a student there. I write as someone who was greatly influenced by Seán's vision for education, a catalytic factor in my joining the Society. I supported him in as much as any 4th or 5th Form student was capable of supporting a headmaster.

In Seán's time I was also privileged to be a member of the first elected school council, which, like the Sunningdale Parliament, was quickly dissolved from above after a very short life, I served as a prefect in 5th year, trying to implement what I understood as Seán's vision of pupils being creative participants in their own education. I was on the editorial team of the student newspaper whose last edition never reached the newsstands, having been confiscated by the authorities. We did manage to spirit a few copies away before the police came knocking at the door and Patrick Hume tells me there is a copy in the archives. Shortly after Paddy Tyrrell took over from Seán in 1970, I was appointed School Captain, and so had a lot of contact with staff.

In many ways, even at that time, I had “insider” knowledge of what was going on above and around me (sources remaining anonymous). However, I am aware now that I didn't really understand the complexity of what was happening politically, or how delicate and fragile the whole situation was. So naive was I, that I was greatly surprised when Seán finished as headmaster after only two years. As captain of the school, I had a lot to do with his successor, Paddy Tyrrell. Like for others enthused by Seán's vision, his removal and replacement appeared to me to be a Margaret Thatcher-style takeover intent on reversing the new social order (others would say social disorder).

I now understand better what a very difficult assignment Paddy Tyrrell had been given. Seán and he were contemporaries and friends during formation. I now appreciate how Paddy managed to preserve many of the positive elements of what we might call the O'Connor revolution. For example, neither corporal punishment nor the 11-plus type streaming into A and B classes were reintroduced. The new pupil oriented attitude continued. People remained more important than system. And further developments took place under Paddy's leadership.

Seán, like Padraig Pearse, was a great visionary, but a poor politician. Seán's studies on education had been about the Pearse educational experiment at Coláiste Eanna. Only later in both cases did their vision begin to flower into political reality. In the immediate, however, Seán failed to win over the four very difficult constituencies which he needed to engage in order to succeed. These consisted of the Jesuit Community, the Lay Staff, the Parents, and the boys (especially the senior classes).

Many of the senior boys used the elimination of corporal punishment as an excuse for license, which initially gave the school a certain chaotic appearance. In his first year, Seán had welcomed a large group of repeat, but disgruntled, 6th years back to school. In general, they proved to be a very disruptive force among the senior boys and Seán's first academic year ended with a riot on the school pitch during the taking of the school photo. This resulted in all 6th years being sent home a full week before schedule, an act just short of expulsion. While the 4th and 6th year battled it out before the assembled school, with Fr. Jack Hutchinson trying to appease both sides, the lay teachers were gathered in the corner of the field to discuss whether they should go on strike. It appeared that the educational revolution had degenerated into chaos.

Owing to the suddenness of Seán's reforms, teachers had suddenly found themselves, without any real training, invited to abandon more formal teaching methods in the junior forms. Classwork was to be organised around projects whereby the teacher's role was to serve the intellectual curiosity of the pupil by providing resources and advice about topics of the pupil's interest. With no corporal punishment as the usual backup control and with little or no focus on public examinations, some of the teachers quickly found themselves bewildered and longing for the good old days of law and order.

The Jesuit staff and community lived with two unresolved tensions. Jesuits in general were divided in their reception of the new orientations of GC31, and in Galway there was the additional division between the “Gaeilgeoirs” and the “Non-Gaeilgeoirs”. Skills of community dialogue were in their rudimentary stages. Communication still tended to move vertically between the individual and the Rector. Despite the many meetings, so difficult for those not used to them, much of the political communication was beamed from one group to the other via the Rector. Our subsequent growth in ability to dialogue can now be seen more clearly when we contrast the serene atmosphere of today's province meetings to those very first acrimonious meetings of the late 60's and early 70's.

Finally, the parents, despite the importation of some high level lecturers of Lonergan leanings from Milltown Park, found it difficult to form a vision beyond the newly introduced points system for entry to University, a system necessitated by the increased number seeking university places following the introduction of free secondary education and university grants. Many parents feared the project/pupil orientated method adopted for the 1st years would spread to all classes prompting visions of their off-spring failing to progress to third-level education. The parents, like the Jesuits, were divided into two camps. The “Jes” parents saw the school as a mini-Clongowes without the boarding fees, and the “Coláiste lognáid” parents wanted an all-Irish education. I believe this division of parental motivation is one reason why Coláiste lognáid in my time never won a football match because the pool of best players was always divided between Gaelic and Rugby which was played in a club independent of the school. With divisions like this it was difficult to work with the parents as a single group. In general, however, the parents were not convinced by what they saw as a Galway version of the Paris Revolution with its sit-ins and teach-ins which were already being picked up in the Irish universities. Our having a silhouette of Che Guevara, with a clenched fist, on the cover page of the banned magazine certainly would not have helped Seán with the parents had it been circulated!

Changing metaphors, Seán was seen as the Dubcec who had gone a step too far. The hot line to the Rector and to Eglinton Road was often engaged for long periods. Both Rector and Provincial were, as far as I understand, ideologically in tune with Seán. However, they could not ignore the persistence of representation from the unconvinced part of the Jesuit Community, and many of the lay-staff and parents. Enrolment was beginning to drop too. Seán's term would have to end prematurely, without time for the fruits to show themselves. The tanks rolled in. At least it seemed like that at the time.

It was not that Seán did not know how important it was to share his vision with the four constituencies. It seems to me, however, that he confused explanation with acceptance. He made great efforts to explain ... all those meetings after school, which went on late into the night. One man, I heard, who did not see the point of all these meetings, obediently attended but spent the time correcting his copy books. However, acceptance comes ultimately with understanding. Seán may not have realised that many of the players were not convinced enough to have a team that could pull together. In fact, the team pulled apart.

Seán himself had come back to Galway after many years of openness to new ideas, both in Dublin and in the US. A small number appreciated or understood all three strands of his vision: Gaelic, child-orientated education, and Vatican II reflected institutionally in the documents of GC31. Some accepted one, or even two of these strands. But with pressure to maintain the status quo, only a few could back Seán in all three strands. Those who were still uncomfortable on any of these three areas found themselves unable to throw themselves into the project. Intellectually, emotionally, or professionally many of the teachers were ill-equipped to deal with the changes. They reacted in different ways, some by withdrawing, some with belligerent opposition to that part which seemed to be “non-sense”, some with quiet passive resistance. Weakened by this, the rope was not strong enough to carry the experiment, unraveled, and eventually snapped.

Politically, Seán might have had a better chance of succeeding if he had taken more time to introduce his changes in a slower fashion. On the other hand, the changes were the result of an intellectual and spiritual paradigm shift: none of the individual changes he introduced would on their own have made any sense without the others, Seán had not had the backup benefits of today's Ignatian colloquium, a systematic way of engaging lay-teachers and parents, and even students, in our vision. (I regard myself as having been introduced to the Jesuit educational vision through “colloquy”). It was out of experiences such as the “Galway experiment”, that the need for such methods developed.

Finally, it seems to me that Seán did have the prophet's self immolating tendency, which we see in Pearse. Say what needs to be said, even if they don't understand. Do what needs to be done, even if they don't follow. Die on the pyre of truth, for the phoenix will rise from the ashes.

But the line between prophetic word/action and railroading is often difficult to distinguish, especially when viewed from the outside. There were 'in' and 'out' groups. Invitation and command were then often perceived, and intended, as synonyms. So there might not have been the freedom to really talk through apprehensions in order to include other wisdoms in the vision. Seán may have interpreted silence as consent, and genuine opposition as belligerence.

This article is one attempt to understand what was happening in Galway at that time. I hope it can be part of the healing process which Seán is now intimately involved with in his new position in the Communion of Saints. His vision was a major stepping stone in my own journey into the Society. It has touched many people and continues to grow and develop in them. As the woman said of her husband who had walked out on her some years previously, “he was doing the best he could”: all were doing the best they could under the circumstances.

There may still be some lessons to learn from this particular phase of the history of the Irish Province. We form one Body, where each person's contribution is vital, and no one can be left out without all suffering their absence. The spirit runs, but must carry the often, as yet, unfit body. Vision must patiently wait for the slow inertia-laden swing of tradition and habit. The body lives in and needs time.

The Galway experiment was about adapting to cultural change. Genuine dialogue and inculturation are an essential part of the quality of our apostolic living and working together, not just tools of the trade or means to an end. They are movements in the continuing act of incarnation, of the Word being made flesh, of t”he entire creation ..groaning in one great act of giving birth...all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit we too groan inwardly ... we too must be content to hope to be saved ... something we must wait for with patience” (Rm 8:22-25).

Seán, continue to pray for us, the pilgrim Society on earth as we continue to grow/groan “till fully grown into the Body of Christ”.

Reidy, Daniel J, 1884-1967, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/2037
  • Person
  • 08 August 1884-16 April 1967

Born: 08 August 1884, Cooraclare, County Clare or Coleraine Co Antrim
Entered: 07 September 1901, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 28 June 1915, Woodstock College MD, USA
Final vows: 02 February 1920
Died 16 April 1967, Seattle, WA, USA - Oregonensis Province (ORE)

Transcribed HIB to TAUR : 1902; TAUR to CAL : 1909; Cal to ORE

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Transferred during Noviceship to TAUR Province for Rocky Mountain Mission