Born: 17 March 1930, Glasnevin, Dublin, County Dublin
Entered: 08 October 1947, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1961, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 11 November 2020, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Left Society of Jesus: 10 December 1976

by 1954 at Berchmanskolleg, Pullach, Germany (GER S) studying
by 1963 at Sentmaringer Münster, Germany (GER I) making Tertianship
by 1966 at St Louis MO, USA (MAR) teaching
by 1974 at Regis Toronto, Canada (CAN S) sabbatical

https://lonergan.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Shane-Hogan-Conn-ODonovan-Eulogy.pdf

A eulogy for Cornelius Patrick O’Donovan (17 March 1930 - 11 November 2020)
Shane Hogan, former Headmaster, St.Ignatius College, Riverview
21 November 2020

We are here to celebrate the precious life of Cornelius Patrick O’Donovan’s, or ‘Conn’ as he was more affectionally known.

Conn was an immensely special person to a great number of people from vast walks of life. From a young Irish lad in a big catholic family to a dynamic Jesuit, his adventurous and influential life in Australia is one worth remembering and celebrating. I pray these words are befitting of Conn and the extraordinary legacy that lives on in his family and friends.

In 2003 I was given a book by Daven Day SJ when he was Provincial. Its title was Heroic Leadership. It was an attempt by the author, an ex-Jesuit, to explain why the Jesuits had survived for the past 450 years while empires and successful corporations have fallen by the way side in that time. He put it down to 4 characteristics that he believes have served the Jesuits over that time: self-awareness, heroic deeds, ingenuity, and love.

Does each of these principals not sum up and epitomise this beautiful man’s character and personality and explain how he had such an impact on each person’s life that he touched.

Conn was born on 17 March 1930 in Dublin. The keen-eyed among you will have noticed the significance of this date – it is surprising he was not called Patrick Cornelius! As the second born male, Irish tradition states that he would be named after his paternal
grandfather and father.

His father was the Land Commissioner Inspector at this time but was famously behind the barricades at the Dublin General Post Office, shoulder to shoulder with Collins, Clarke, Connelly and McDermott, in the Easter Rising of 1916. Conn was very proud of this fact.

Conn had his Secondary education at Roscrea College, Tipperary for one year, and spent the remainder at Colaiste Mhuire, Dublin – an Irish-speaking Christian Brothers School. He entered the Society of Jesus on 8 October 1947, joining the Jesuit Novitiate at Emo, near Portarlington, where he spent two years of spiritual formation. In the Novitiate he was encouraged to read widely and to develop an interest in music and the arts, a passion he maintained throughout his life.

Following his time in the Jesuit Novitiate he travelled to Rathfarnham Castle where he studied for four years at the University College Dublin. An exemplary student, Conn pursued a demanding course, taking four subjects in Science and Mathematics. While he certainly could have obtained an impressive degree in Science, Conn’s heart remained in the realm of the humanities, and at the end of his first year, he switched to a degree in Latin and Irish. He would, of course, obtain First Class Honours. From here, Conn travelled to Germany to study Philosophy and upon commencement, greatly impressed the demanding German Jesuit professors, who promptly marked him as someone set to become a specialist in Philosophy.

Conn spent the next two years teaching and perfecting his craft at Belvedere College, Dublin, where his interest and ability in sports came to the fore. He was an excellent teacher, popular with the students and possessed an effortless and kindly control in the classroom and on the playing field. He then moved to Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy for four years of Theological Studies. It was Milltown that had a decisive impact on Conn, in large part due to his association with Philip McShane, with whom he forged a personal and intellectual friendship, one that would influence not only the other, but a whole generation of students of Philosophy at the Milltown Institute. His interest in philosophy deepened and matured over these years and the expectations of his German philosophy professors were further realised. After his final year of formation - his tertianship - Conn attended the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome where he obtained a Doctorate in Philosophy which he promptly put to use at the Jesuit St. Louis University in Missouri.

Conn returned home to Ireland where he taught Philosophy for 10 years. As ever, he was popular with colleagues and students, being urbane and gracious as he was. With his Milltown friend, Philip McShane, the pair established a philosophy course grounded in the teachings of the Canadian Jesuit Philosopher, Bernard Lonergan. This decision, however, was not without controversy and painful conflict. The modernisation of religious life was under heavy scrutiny at the time of the change, following the second Vatican Council. Although unknown, many believe that this series of conflicts in the 1960s were what caused Conn to leave the Priesthood and the Jesuits. Conn and the Jesuits remained passionately and eternally in a “benign and mutually appreciative relationship”.

Conn met the love of his life, Paddy, sometime after leaving the Jesuits. Paddy was an Australian nurse whom Conn met while she was travelling through Ireland. Conn was besotted with Paddy. Anything that she wanted, Conn was prepared to deliver. The two
become inseparable and shared many crazy adventures. His immense love for Paddy endured until her passing in 2003. A beautiful send-off was held for Paddy at St Canisius in Potts Point, arranged by Conn’s dear friend, Steve Sinn.

Conn arrived on the doorsteps of St Aloysius College in January 1980. He was looking for a job, as were a number of others who have been part of Jesuit education in Australia for the past 40 years. The first time I met him, Conn was sitting outside Father Bruce’s office waiting to go in and get our classes for the year. At Aloysius, Conn was an immediately hit with staff and students (and Jesuits). He played staff football on a Friday afternoon for many years. I did not realise how old he was at this time, probably 50 or close to it, he was easily one of the best players on the field – a great goalkeeper. Off the field, Conn could also hold his own with a drink.

Conn was an exceptional Latin teacher, Latin being one of eight languages Conn had been taught or taught himself to speak. He was also an exceptional Year Coordinator, earning the love of his students whom he loved in return. One of the reasons for this mutual respect was due to the fact that Conn could not bring himself to use the strap as punishment. He opted instead for a slower, arguably more cruel method, to talk them to death! If this did not work, he would refer them to his assistant, Neil Mushan, to sort out matters more… directly.This discipline method did not work when Helen Ephrums became his new assistant, as she also loved the boys to death.

Conn’s time at Aloysius is wonderfully remembered in comedian Ahn Do’s popular novel, The Happiest Refugee, where Conn’s passion and commitment to fair play saw him rest Ahn late in a Basketball game when Ahn was desperately trying to get to 30 points to win a new pair of basketball boots. When Conn was informed of his accidental actions, he was reported to have said, “Jaysus! Why didn’t you tell me earlier you daft eediot! Ahn, next time out, you’re on!” I can hear him saying it! With his right hand on his forehead.

When I first knew Conn, he was living at St Ignatius’ College in the old Infirmary. After that, he resided at Pearl Beach and travelled each day to St Aloysius is his green Morris Minor. He also for a time lived in a plush flat in Bellevue Hill, however the only piece of property he owned in his life, was an old church in the country which he used as a holiday house. Finally, Conn moved to Riverview and lived in a cottage by First Field for many years, a very happy place with classical music always drifting in the air as you approached.

On his departure from St Aloysius in the mid ‘90s, Conn travelled home to Ireland for a number of years. Paddy had convinced him she wanted to go home to Ireland to live and do a cooking course in France. Ever supportive of her dreams and true to his enduring love, whatever Paddy wanted, Conn was always prepared to deliver. While in Ireland, Conn taught at the Jesuit Belvedere College, Dublin, but both he and Paddy soon realised that with the Celtic Tiger enveloping the nation, Ireland was not the place and home they thought it to be.

Conn returned to Australia, commencing at St Ignatius’ College, Riverview, where he would join a number of us who had left Aloysius to start anew. After Paddy died, I asked Conn to come and live at Riverview. With this, a new amazing stage in his life began: that of a Jesuit, mystic and gypsy. Conn did possibly his best and most influential work while at Riverview. As mentor and confidante to the Headmaster, as well as Latin teacher, Conn spent many an afternoon wasting his time on Jennie Hickey and I - who never completed her homework and was inattentive at times - as he tried to get us through the Year 7 syllabus … year after year.

Conn’s impact on the formation of young Ignatian men and on those he worked with can be summed up by the outpouring of emotional responses on social media on hearing the news of his passing. Among the many moving tributes, here are two such examples of the widespread and lasting influence of Conn’s character.

A wonderful person and a great and enthusiastic 4th XI soccer coach! Profound intellect, humility, insight, depth of faith, simplicity of life, ease of finding joy… Conn’s gift for critical, honest thinking and seeking after truth made a big impact on me and many. I am moved to gratitude for his life. May Conn rest in peace. – James O’Brien
A dear friend and teacher who helped educate the whole person - a wonderful teacher of Ancient Greek who, in the course of teaching the subject, taught you also a good deal of literature - particularly the Irish poets - Latin, Gaelic, German, Philosophy and Theology. A great football coach who insisted on character and fair, firm play. But more, just a caring shepherd of people on their way into broader life. My favourite lessons in Greek were when he would turn up with a poem of Seamus Heaney’s,

because the story of the Trojan wars was also the story of all human struggles. Requiescat in pace, Conn. – Dominic Kelly

At this point, can I especially thank, from all of Conn’s friends and family, the care and love shared by the dozen or so girlfriends who spoilt him and gave him a graceful entry to heaven over the past months and were true friends to the end, especially you Christine, you have been an angel by his side.

In the Book of Isiah there is the story of the passing of a close friend of Cicero and when his wife asks him why do you weep so?

“The earth is poorer” said Cicero. “It has lost a good man, and we cannot afford it”

The earth will be a poorer place without Conn, at a time when good men are hard to find. Conn touched each and every one of us and has left us with memories we will cherish forever. Conn loved his Irish heritage, and in particular Irish poets. Conn and Paddy attached this poem to a birthday card they sent me in 2002. When you read it, hear Conn’s words in your head and heart.

https://lonergan.org.au/conn-odonovan-2/

27 November 2020

In Memory of Cornelius Patrick O’Donovan (17 March 1930 – 11 November 2020)

Our colleague and friend, Conn O’Donovan, was a regular attendee, participant and presenter at our biennial Australian Lonergan Workshop. He had a particular expertise and interest in the philosophy of learning.

He will remembered as a passionate and compassionate man, a lover of his wife Paddy, a scholar and a teacher,. He will also be remembered for this love of music and Lindt 85% dark chocolate.

His funeral service can be viewed (until 20th May 2021) at: https://www.FuneralVideo.com.au/CorneliusODonovan. A hard copy of the eulogy by Shane Hogan, former headmaster at St.Ignatius College, Riverview is available to download here. This includes a little of life-story.

In Lonergan circles, he will be remembered an educator, a reformer of philosophy and theology courses and a translator and interpreter of one of Lonergan’s important contributions to theology.

Educator

Throughout his life, Conn was an educator at various institutions – Belvedere College, Dublin; St.Louis University, Missouri; and Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy.

Over the past 40 years, Conn taught at St.Aloysius College, Milson’s Point and St.Ignatius College, Riverview (in Sydney, Australia). He is particularly noted for his course on “Wonder about Wonder: an introduction to philosophy” which aimed to have students grasp their own native wonder.

Reformer

In the early 1960s, Conn worked closely with Phil McShane and others in reforming philosophy and theology courses at the Jesuit Milltown Institute, Dublin. In a 2003 article in the Journal of Macrodynamic Analysis reflecting on the first forty years of Phil McShane, Conn recalled the challenge and the difficulties they faced:

There was considerable discontent, and even cynicism, among those Jesuit students, whether Lonergan inspired or not, who looked on theology as something more than just a canonical prerequisite for ordination, or who had already achieved considerable success in some other field. Many of them simply went along with the system, mastering the matter presented and producing it, on request, at examination time; others registered a kind of protest by pursuing private interests as much as possible; those inspired by Lonergan tended increasingly to raise questions in class in a manner that challenged their professors’ authority, at times, unfortunately, with a crude appeal to the authority of Lonergan. We did not know then that we were living through the final years of a system that Lonergan later described as hopelessly antiquated but not yet demolished, that what was happening at Milltown was happening all over the world, and that the upheaval that was soon to come would affect much more than the traditional seminary courses in philosophy and theology.

Translator and interpreter

In the early 1970s, Conn undertook the long and arduous task of translating, from Latin into English, the first part of the first volume of Bernard Lonergan’s De Deo Trino. It was published in 1976 by Darton Longman & Todd as The Way to Nicea: The Dialectical Development of Trinitarian Theology and examined the dialectical process by which the dogma of the Trinity developed in the first four centuries. The Way to Nicea was the first translation of Lonergan’s Latin writings to be published.

Lonergan was always reluctant to have any of his Latin texts translated because he wrote them in Latin for a very specific audience, I.e., the students from 17 nations at the Gregorian, as well the Holy Office who had to approve all texts used at pontifical universities. He said that he would have written it “differently” in English or French.
Having read Conn’s translation of the first part of de Deo Trino he thought it excellent and agreed to have it published as The Way to Nicea.The book includes an important introduction by Conn in which he sets out to:

survey the content and indicate the structure of the whole two-volume work [De Deo Trino] of which the part translated constitutes one sixth,
Give an account of Lonergan’s academic courses on the Trinity, from 1945 to 1964, with some references to other work in progress at the time of these courses,
Give a brief history of Lonergan’s writings on the Trinity during his years in Rome culminating in the 1964 De Deo Trino,
Discuss the importance for Lonergan of trinitarian theology as the area in which (mainly) he worked out his method in theology
Comment on Lonergan’s enduring involvement with and contribution to trinitarian theology as a topic of the greatest importance within theology
Suggest some reasons why Lonergan has been so far unwilling to release for publication in translation any more than this one part of De Deo Trino and why he has released even as much as he has
Make a few comments on the tasks of translation itself.

Born: 26 December 1862, Rathmore, County Kerry
Entered: 06 September 1880, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 1894
Died: 29 April 1934, Dublin City, County Dublin

Left Society of Jesus: 1900

Educated at Crescent College SJ

by 1898 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship

https://www.dib.ie/biography/dinneen-patrick-stephen-a2627

DICTIONARY OF IRISH BIOGRAPHY

Dinneen, Patrick Stephen
by Eoin Mac Cárthaigh

Dinneen, Patrick Stephen (Ó Duinnín, Pádraig Stiabhna) (1860–1934), Irish language lexicographer, was born 25 December 1860 on a smallholding in Carn townland near Rathmore in the Sliabh Luachra district of Co. Kerry, fifth of ten children of Maitiú Ó Duinnín, farmer and livestock trader, and Máire Ní Dhonnchadha (d. 1917). His parents, who had been evicted from a more substantial farm a few years previously, were native Irish-speakers. Although Pádraig was brought up largely through English, Irish was still very much in evidence during his childhood, and he first heard many of the poems of local poet Aogán Ó Rathaille (qv) from his mother. He received his earliest formal education in the local national school and later (at the age of 10) in the national school at Na Míteoga, from his uncle. His ability was obvious from an early age and he became a monitor in that school in 1874. He left aged 17 and stayed at home for three years, taking Latin lessons from the parish priest of Rathmore, presumably with a view to entering the priesthood. His mother's excessive piety must have been a factor in his choice of calling. Under the influence of Denis Murphy (qv), SJ, he joined the Jesuits in September 1880. He was ordained in 1894, but his training lasted until summer 1898. He completed his years in formation (1880–82) and as a scholastic (1891–5) at Milltown Park, Dublin, and his tertianship in Tronchiennes, Belgium (1897–8). In 1883–5 he studied mathematics and modern literature in UCD – under Gerard Manley Hopkins (qv) and Seán Ó Cathasaigh among others – graduating with an honours BA. His forte was mathematics, in which he received an MA (1889). All other years of his training were spent teaching – three of them as an assistant in mathematics in UCD (1885–8), and the rest in Jesuit novitiates and schools. After completing his training, he taught in Clongowes Wood, Co. Kildare, for two years. Although much folklore surrounds his (regular and fairly amicable) parting of ways with the Jesuits (1900), it would seem that he left because his superiors thought him unsuitable for life in the society – toisc é a bheith beagainín corr ann féin (‘because he was a little bit eccentric’), as one Jesuit put it. He wore clerical garb until his death, and was allowed to continue presenting himself as a priest, but not to administer the sacraments without first being licensed to do so by a bishop. He was later offered such permission by the archbishop of Dublin, but failed to take it up because this would involve showing private documentation to prove that he could support himself independently – and he was always intensely private about his personal affairs. This did not, however, stop him from accepting offerings to hear mass for people's intentions. There is little evidence that he showed any interest in Irish before 1899, when he began teaching it in Clongowes and also made a submission in support of the language to a government commission on education. His conversion may have come about under the influence of his friend and fellow Jesuit, the Irish scholar Fr John MacErlean (qv). He soon plunged headlong into Irish scholarship and quickly established himself as a leading authority on Irish literature. By 1906, he had produced fairly reliable editions of the poetry of many of the most important Munster poets: Aogán Ó Rathaille, Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin (qv), Seán Clárach Mac Domhnaill (qv), Séafraidh Ó Donnchadha an Ghleanna (qv), Tadhg Gaelach Ó Súilleabháin (qv), Piaras Feiritéar (qv), and the Maigue poets. He also edited Faoistin Naomh-Phádraig, the eighteenth-century prose text Me Guidhir Fhearmanach, and three of the four volumes of the highly valuable Foras feasa ar Éirinn by Seathrún Céitinn (qv). He published these through Conradh na Gaeilge's publications' committee and through the London-based Irish Texts Society (ITS). The latter also printed his pioneering Irish–English dictionary, which was widely welcomed when it came out in 1904. Although he later claimed that most of this dictionary was compiled from material ‘stored up in my childhood's memory’, in fact it drew heavily on published literature, on unpublished lexicons, and on manuscript sources, as well as on word lists submitted from the various Gaeltacht areas. When the plates for this publication were destroyed during the 1916 rising, he embarked with the assistance of Liam S. Gógan (qv) on a second, much expanded edition, which appeared in 1927 and was the standard Irish–English dictionary until 1977 (when it was largely replaced by Niall Ó Dónaill's (qv) Foclóir Gaeilge-Béarla). The 1927 edition and its predecessor made a significant contribution to the standardisation of Irish orthography. It has been widely consulted since 1977 – particularly by readers of material published before the advent of today's official standard Irish and by those wishing to access its considerable body of proverbs and idiomatic expressions. This is the dictionary that ‘Myles na Gopaleen’ (Flann O'Brien (qv)), poked fun at for years in his ‘Cruiskeen Lawn’ column in the Irish Times, christening Ó Duinnín ‘our great comic lexicographer’.

In contrast to his lexicographical work, Ó Duinnín's literary attempts (including a novel, some plays, and several poems) are less than memorable. However, his novel Cormac Ó Conaill (1901) is of no small historical importance: it was the first novel of the literary renaissance. As well as being a member of the Society for the Preservation of the Irish Language, and of the ITS, Ó Duinnín was an active member (1900–09) of Conradh na Gaeilge: he sat on many of its most influential committees, including its Coiste Gnó – where, according to Piaras Béaslaí (qv), he was usually in a ‘magnificent minority of one’. His main platform within the Conradh was the Munster-leaning and pro-catholic Craobh an Chéitinnigh, of which he was made president (1904). This branch operated as an independent republic within the Conradh, and was more often than not at loggerheads with the leadership. From there, he played an active part in the virtual civil war that bedevilled the language movement in the early years of the twentieth century. He came under the influence of his friend D. P. Moran (qv), and wrote a column in the latter's Leader (1906–29), using this and the letter columns of other newspapers to assail the Conradh's leaders, particularly Douglas Hyde (qv) and P. H. Pearse (qv). He thought the latter pretentious, and often referred to him with mock seriousness as ‘Pee Haitch’ and ‘BABL’. In 1906, in a celebrated letter purporting to be from a person by the name of Snag Breac (‘Magpie’) to the Irish People newspaper, he criticised a novel that Pearse had recently published under the pseudonym ‘Colm Ó Conaire’ (supposedly a western writer), saying it ‘smacks more like the margarine of the slums than pure mountain butter’. He also poked fun at the innocent Pearse's choice of title, Poll an phíobaire (‘The piper's hole’), expressing the hope that ‘the Píobaire will continue to draw from the stores of his capacious and well-filled arsenal’! From 1909 until his death Ó Duinnín devoted himself exclusively to his studies. Although he was awarded (1920) an honorary D.Litt. in absentia by the NUI, he never had much contact with the academic establishment. For many years, he was a permanent fixture in the National Library (where he receives mention in Joyce's (qv) Ulysses) and in the RIA library, where he spent the winters. He was a well known and well liked character around Dublin in the early decades of the century. He cut a rather colourful figure in his tall hat and shabby coat (which he once borrowed from a friend but neglected to return), and was remembered by many not because of his great dictionary but because of his mild eccentricity: his habit of talking to himself and chewing dulse in the library, his awful puns (‘O'Neill-Lane? Ó, níl aon mhaith ann’), or his legendary miserliness (which once led him to enter a children's writing competition and pocket the prize). He died Saturday 29 September 1934 and, after funeral Mass in the Jesuits' Gardiner St. church, was buried in Glasnevin cemetery.

An Seabhac [P. Ó Siochfhradha], obituary, Capuchin Annual 1935, 118–20; P. Ó Conluain and D. Ó Céileachair, An Duinníneach: An tAthair Pádraig Ó Duinnín, a shaol, a shaothar agus an ré inar mhair sé (1958); M. Bruck, ‘Fear an fhoclóra’ [review of An Duinníneach], Ríocht na Midhe, ii, no. 1 (1959), 72–3; C. Ó H., [review of An Duinníneach], IER, 5th ser., xc, no. 1 (Jan. 1961), 69–70; C. Ó Háinle, Promhadh pinn (1978); Beathaisnéis: 1882–1982, iii (1992), 96–8; iv (1994), 183

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_S._Dinneen

Patrick Stephen Dinneen (Irish: Pádraig Ua Duinnín; 25 December 1860 – 29 September 1934) was an Irish lexicographer and historian, and a leading figure in the Gaelic revival.

Life
Dinneen was born near Rathmore, County Kerry.[1] He was educated at Shrone and Meentogues National Schools and at St. Brendan's College in Killarney.[2] He earned second class honours bachelor's and master's degrees from the Royal University of Ireland. The BA (1885) was in classics and mathematical science, the MA (1889) was in mathematical science. He joined the Society of Jesus in 1880 and was ordained a priest in 1894, but left the order in 1900 to devote his life to the study of the Irish language[3] while still remaining a priest. After his ordination, he taught Irish, English, classics, and mathematics in three different Jesuit colleges, including Clongowes Wood College, a Jesuit boarding school near Clane, County Kildare.

P. S. Dinneen's dictionary Foclóir Gaedhilge agus Béarla, 1904
He was a leading figure in the Irish Texts Society, publishing editions of Geoffrey Keating's Foras Feasa ar Éirinn, poems by Aogán Ó Rathaille, Piaras Feiritéar, Tadhg Gaelach Ó Súilleabháin, and other poets. He also wrote a novel and a play in Irish, and translated such works as Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol into Irish. His best known work, however, is his Irish–English dictionary, Foclóir Gaedhilge agus Béarla, which was first published in 1904.[4] The stock and plates of the dictionary were destroyed during the Easter Rising of 1916, so Dinneen took the opportunity to expand the dictionary. A much larger second edition, compiled with the assistance of Liam S. Gógan, was published in 1927.[5] Dinneen's request to the Irish Texts Society to include Gogan's name on the title page was refused.[6] Gogan continued to work on the collection of words up to his death in 1979. This complementary dictionary was published online in 2011.[7]

Fr. Dinneen died in Dublin at the age of 73 and is buried in Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin.[8]

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

Left Society of Jesus: 20 June 1966

Educated at Mungret College SJ

Priest of the Westminster Diocese, England

Funeral at Milltown Park, Dublin

Buried in Glasnevin Cemetary in the Jesuit burial plot.

Irish Jesuit News, February 20, 2013

Mourning Fr Ken McCabe

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

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

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

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

Interfuse No 151 : Spring 2013

Obituary

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

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

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

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

A personal appreciation by Kevin O'Higgins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

◆ Mungret Annual, 1959

Behind the Jesuit Curtain

Kenneth McCabe SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Update - 9/2/2013

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

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