Gonzaga College SJ

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61 Name results for Gonzaga College SJ

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Andrews, Paul W, 1927-2018, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/818
  • Person
  • 10 January 1927-27 November 2018

Born: 10 January 1927, Campsie, Omagh, County Tyrone
Entered: 14 September 1944, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1958, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final vows: 02 February 1962, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 27 November 2018, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1951 at Berchmanskolleg, Pullach, Germany (GER S) studying
by 1960 at Nth American Martyrs, Auriesville NY (NEB) making Tertianship
by 1964 at Selly Oak, Birmingham (ANG) studying

Baggot, P Anthony, 1918-2001, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/585
  • Person
  • 21 October 1918-19 March 2001

Born: 01 October 1918, Dublin
Entered: 14 September 1936, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1954, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 19 March 2001, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 108 : Special Edition 2001

Obituary

Fr Anthony (Tony) Baggot (1918-2000)

21st Oct. 1918: Born in Dublin
Early education at Dominican College, Cabra and Belvedere College
14th Sept. 1936: Entered the Society at St. Mary's, Emo
15th Sept. 1938: First Vows at St. Mary's, Emo
1938 - 1941: Rathfarnham, studying Arts at UCD
1941 - 1944: Tullabeg - studying Philosophy
1944 - 1946: Belvedere College - Regency
1946 - 1950: Milltown Park - studying Theology
31st July 1949: Ordained at Milltown Park
1950 - 1951: Tertianship at Rathfarnham Castle
1951 - 1953: Emo - Socius to Novice Director
1953 - 1959: Clongowes - Rector
2nd Feb. 1954: Final Vows
1959 - 1962: Rathfarnham - Spiritual Father to Juniors; Assistant Director of Retreat House
1962 - 1969: Leeson St. - Director Sodalities; Editor of Madonna
1969 - 1978: CIR - Superior
1978 - 1983: CIR - Director Marriage Courses,
1983 - 2001: Gonzaga - Director Marriage Courses, Courses in spirituality and relationships.

Tony was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge in July 1999 suffering from prostate cancer. He remained in reasonably good health until three months before his death, when walking became difficult for him. He died peacefully at Cherryfield at 3.30 a.m. on Monday, 19th March, 2001.

Myles O' Reilly preached at Tony's Funeral Mass...

We are all here because we have known Tony Baggot in some capacity - as a friend, a relative, a Jesuit colleague, a counsellor, a participant in one of his retreats or workshops, or a grateful reader of his writings, or a carer from the Jesuit nursing home in Cherryfield. We have all been deeply touched and enriched by his gentle spirit, by his wisdom, compassion and his kindness, We are here because we want to acknowledge our love for him and our gratitude to God for him. We are only a small fraction of the many thousands of people that Tony touched throughout his 64 years as a Jesuit. To Tony all this positive regard for him would be totally mystifying. He placed himself in the lowest seat at the table of the Lord, but we intuitively know that Jesus will place him in the highest seat - “Well done good and faithful servant, come and inherit the kingdom which God has prepared for you since the beginning of the world”.

Tony had a secret weapon that enabled these qualities that endeared him so much to others to shine forth and through him. A prayer that he loved and said everyday and that he said frequently at his weekly Mass with the boys and the teachers here in Gonzaga for the last 15 years of his life, barring the last two when he got sick. It is a prayer he often used during his Retreats and Workshops also. It goes like this:

Lord Jesus I give you my hands to do your work
I give you my feet to go your way
I give you my ears to listen like you I give you my tongue that I may speak your words
I give you my mind that I may think like you I give you my heart that you may love in me
I give you my spirit that you may pray in me
I give you my whole self that you may grow in me So that it is you, Lord Jesus, that may live, love and pray in me.

What we loved in Tony were the qualities of Jesus shining through him - the Beatitudes - poor in spirit, gentle, merciful, a peacemaker etc. There are many eras to Tony's life, an only child born to Patrick and Harriet Baggot. Tony a Belvederian, who as a boy was a splendid pianist and tennis player, joined the Jesuits at the age of 18 and did the usual training. He was ordained in 1950 and only then did his interesting and varied pastoral life begin. He started with two years as Socius to the Novice Master in Emo.

Then, at the age of 32, he was made Rector of Clongowes for 6 years - he was the youngest Rector ever in the history of the Irish Province. One of our Jesuit Gonzaga community remembers at the age of 11 going to Clongowes and Tony was the first Jesuit he shook hands with. Little did he know that he would be the last Jesuit to hold Tony's band before he died last Monday night - on the Feast of St Joseph, patron of the dying.

After Clongowes Tony went back again to formation work, to being spiritual father to the young Jesuit Juniors in Rathfarnham for 3 years, and also to being a retreat director at the retreat house there. Then, in 1962, he was appointed as Editor of the Madonna, which came on in leaps and bounds under his control. That was where I first met Tony through his writings in the Madonna. I used to marvel, as a novice and a Junior, at his ability to weave passages from novelists like Graham Greene and Morris West into his articles and show how all that is, is Holy, and that God is the deepest inside of us.

Then, in 1969, Tony went to NCIR from where he became director of the Jesuit pre-marriage course for 17 years. He became a legend in his own time in his work. On some of his courses he had over 100 couples, and had no difficulty in filling the Milltown Park hall for a public lecture on marriage. During this time he wrote 3 books on marriage that were best sellers in their day, “To have and to hold”, “You and your marriage” and “Enjoy a happy marriage”.

Tony was a great listener and was particularly sensitive to women. He was an intuitive feeling type, as in the Myers Briggs personality definition, rather than a rational thinker. He learned from experience more than from principles. I am currently chaplain to a group of young married couples that meet every fortnight to help one another grow in their marriage. Only last month one of them read “To have and to hold”, and was enthralled by it, and wants it to be one of the prescribed books for the group. During these 17 years Tony gradually got into counselling, and helped hundreds, if not thousands, of couples.

One of those couples who met Tony 38 years ago, and who are here today, went to Tony with a dilemma – The mother of the Bride to be, who was not too keen to let her daughter go, said her daughter was too young and wasn't ready to get married etc. Tony paused for a while then broke into a grin. “Why don't you go to the maternity boutique in Leeson Street, and buy a maternity dress and hang it up in your wardrobe - that will surely help her to let go!!!”

Tony came to Gonzaga here in 1983 and continued his marriage work for 3 more years. After that he became a full time therapeutic counsellor and ran courses on spirituality and relationships in Tabor House, Chrysalis Conference Centre, and in the Dominican centre in Sion Hill. He became very interested in healing early childhood wounds and pioneered some splendid work in this area, which is still carried on in Chrysalis today.

He never charged any money for his work but he received so many donations that he refused to take a state pension – “Others might need it more than me”, he would say. All this wonderful productivity and creativity came from Tony's depths and from his spirituality. Some quotations from Tony's writings will give us an idea of what resonated with Tony.

Inevitably we live in the presence of holy mystery, a presence we cannot escape, for we are immersed in it. In music, in the sea, in a flower, in a leaf, in an act of kindness, I can see what we call God in all these things."

I said to the cherry tree, “Tell me of God”, and the cherry tree blossomed. That is more eloquent than any definition of God for me.

When I address God I do not address one who is outside. God is the deepest inside of everything, myself included, and the goal of personal growth is the birth of God in the soul. Life itself is the primary sacrament. Religious faith is human life seen as a disclosure of God.

What is called losing the faith is often not so, but a search for a deeper one.

God speaks from the depths of the heart, not the top of the head.

The movement of God, or the movement, which is God, activates me, flows through me.

Rather than governing from without, God is enlivening from within.

This one work has to do - Let all God's glory through (G M Hopkins)

Spiritual life is the flowering cosmic energy and Jesus, as the high point of God's presence, released a new spiritual power - the Christ power. That presence which radiated from his physical body in Palestine is to radiate through his mystical body in the world now.

He was one who, precisely by being human in the fullest degree, was God's existence in the world -- His divinity or godly quality was not something different from his humanity but was his humanity at its highest point. The Ignatian description for Tony's spiritual journey during these fruitful years would be that he lived the grace of the Second Week. That is, working and labouring with Christ in bringing about his kingdom in the world. But little did he know that, like his master, Jesus, his last few years would be a sharing in the sufferings of Christ before he entered into his glory.

Tony gave his last retreat almost three years ago. From then on his health went slowly into decline. The slow onslaught of what turned out to be cancer of the bone began. Tony lost all his physical energy, he lost all taste for things he liked - gardening, reading and writing. His memory was deteriorating, too. He could no longer do his counselling. He loved being a priest and felt he understood it more richly than ever. He cried with frustration at the loss of not being able to minister any more.

The black dog of depression set in with bouts of scrupulosity. He felt so guilty at occupying a room in Cherryfield at such expense. Surely he wasn't sick enough. He was, like Christ on the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me”. He felt so empty. The days were so long - nothing to do - nothing to live for – he couldn't pray, read, think.

Even though this was his inner state most of the time, he was always so gracious with the nurses, never failed to be aware of any act of kindness and always quick to thank them. Thank you for your care' he used to say and they grew to love him. They could see that there was something special about Tony, a childlike transparency, a constant sincere gratitude, a freedom from pretence, an honesty of feeling whether positive or negative, never a sharp or nasty word - always gentle. Their acts of kindness were his experience of God during those last dark years, as also were the visits of his friends that he so much appreciated.

Last September a change came about in Tony - a peace came into his soul and it came from saying over and over again this simple prayer every night in the dark of the chapel for half an hour. There was more surrender and humble simplicity in this prayer than in the previous one. Through this prayer he found the peace and the capacity to accept what was happening to him.

I place my hands in yours. I place my will in yours, Lord
I place my will in yours. I place my days in yours, Lord
I place my days in yours. I place my thoughts in yours, Lord
I place my thoughts in yours. I place my heart in yours, Lord
I place my heart in yours. I place my hands in yours, Lord I place my hands in yours.

Angela Ashwin

Whenever his friends would visit him in Cherryfield he would always be glad to give them his blessing before they left. He would always say with a sign of the Cross on the forehead - May Jesus Christ and his Holy Spirit guard you and guide you on your way'. One day, close to his death, I was with him, and was about to leave, but Tony wasn't offering his blessing. “Aren't you going to give me your blessing?” He looked confused. The words wouldn't come to him. And then, after a pause, he said “My suffering is my prayer for you”. We can be sure that his sufferings were offered for all of us, not just me.

All he had left to give were his sufferings and his gratitude. Like his saviour on the cross, on Monday night, surrounded by a few friends Tony's work was finished. With Him he could say “It is finished. Into your hands, Lord, I commend my spirit”. “Lord Jesus receive my soul”. A few hours before he died, Tony's eyes came back from their unconscious glazed state, and focusing, looked intently across to the far window as if he was seeing somebody, he smiled and sank back into his glazed look again. Blessed are those who die in the Lord. Happy indeed, the Spirit says. Now they can rest forever after their work, since their good deeds go with them. (Apoc. 14.13) We surely have an advocate in heaven in Tony Baggott.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2001

Obituary

Tony Baggot SJ

The Community and College gladly mourn Fr. Tony Baggot SJ, who died peace fully after a long illness on the 19th March, the feast of St. Joseph: gladly, because he richly deserves to be with his Lord; mourn, because we have lost a truly gentle man, who brought peace, comfort and solace to so many of us and others over a long life. Tony's main work throughout his 64 years of Jesuit life was in relationship counselling, especially marriage and personal development counselling. Through his pre-marriage courses, which he directed for 17 years, he let Christ touch many thousands of lives and relieved so many from wrongful perceptions of God; Tony's love and care modelled God's love for them.

Tony came to Gonzaga in 1983 to continue his very extensive counselling prac tice. He joined in with the College pastoral programme by helping with the daily Morning Mass, the sacrament of Reconciliation and other liturgical celebrations, especially at Christmas and Easter and Graduation. His stately figure roamed the grounds, engaged many in conversation, pointing out God's gesture to us in the environment; Tony contributed to beautifying the environment by his work on the rockery beside the tennis courts and the flowerbed at the house. Tony's knowledge of the trees, their provenance and characteristics, was amazing, but only to those who did not appreciate his integration of the whole of creation with God's caring provision for all our needs, body, mind and spirit.

Tony's touchstone prayer reveals the man and the spirit he would have us live by:

Lord Jesus I give you my hands to do your work
I give you my feet to go your way
I give you my ears to listen like you
I give you my tongue that I may speak your words
I give you my mind that I may think like you
I give you my heart that you may love in me
I give you my spirit that you may pray in me
I give you my whole self that you may grow in me
So that it is you, Lord Jesus, that may live, love and pray in me.
(From Fr. Myles O'Reilly's homily)

Tony's Funeral Mass in the college was attended by his cousins, a goodly number of his Jesuit confreres, and a not surprisingly large number of friends and acquain tances. The occasion was graced by an excellent homily by Fr. Myles O'Reilly SJ and the Senior Choir, under the baton of Mr. Potts and organist Mr. Murphy. Fr. Rector and the Community would like to thank all who participated in celebrat ing Tony's life and who have conveyed their sympathies.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

Fr John A Dunne SJ

Bannon, Andrew TJ, 1929-1997, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/496
  • Person
  • 24 December 1929-02 November 1997

Born: 24 December 1929, Dublin
Entered: 16 March 1951, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1962, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 02 November 1997, Gonzaga College SJ, Ranelagh, Dublin

Barry, James, 1925-2002, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/555
  • Person
  • 23 July 1925-27 November 2002

Born: 23 July 1925, Mallow, County Cork
Entered: 11 March 1944, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1955, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Died: 27 November 2002, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 117 : Special Issue November 2003

Obituary

Br James (Jim) Barry (1925-2002)

23rd July 1925: Born in Mallow, Co. Cork
Early education in St Peter's, Bray, and Presentation College, Bray
11 March 1944: Entered the Society at Emo
12th March 1946: First Vows at Emo
1946 - 1956: Emo- Gardening.
15h August 1955: Final Vows
1956 - 1958: Milltown Park - Gardening, Farming
1958 - 1964: Clongowes - Supervisor of Staff
1964 - 1965: St. Ignatius, Galway - Supervisor of Staff.
1965 - 1974: Catholic Workers College - Assisted in the Community
1974 - 1975: Crescent/Mungret - arranging for closing down of school buildings
1975 - 1991: Gonzaga College - Supervisor in College; Sacristan
1991 - 2002: Leeson Street -
1991 - 1997: Minister; Assistant Treasurer
1997 - 2002: Minister; Assistant Treasurer; Health Prefect

Following several months of concern about his health among members of his community, Jim was prevailed upon to go to Cherryfield for a rest on 25th October, 2002. He was transferred to St. Vincent's Private Hospital for tests on 4th November, where he was diagnosed as having an advanced form of lung cancer. He was half-way through a course of radium treatment, when his condition deteriorated suddenly on the evening of Sunday, 24 November, and he was found to have contracted pneumonia. That night, and during the following day, he experienced periods of distress, but on Tuesday he became more comfortable, and slipped into a coma. He died peacefully on Wednesday, 27" November, at about 7.30 p.m.

Fergus O'Keefe writes:
Jim Barry may have been born in North Cork but his first years were spent in West Cork. His father lived and worked in Timoleague. Jim always identified with his native county's successes in hurling and gaelic football. The family moved to Bray, where he received his early education. He always remained close to his family and was a regular visitor to his brother's and sister's homes in Bray. One nephew, Oliver Barry, an Oblate, is a parish priest in England.

Jim spent thirteen years in Emo as postulant, novice, refectorian and gardener. He had a powerful physique, tall, spare and strong. A novice on experiment in those days tells of being put standing on the head of the refectory squeegee, already weighted with lumps of lead, while Jim hauled it to and fro to bring up the shine on the waxed floor. He had a droll sense of humour, asking another novice, “Do you know how to play darts?" "Then dart down there with some plates.” At harvest time when all hands used be called to the farmyard to help, Jim was to be seen heaving huge sacks of grain effortlessly from the threshing machine to the waiting trailer. When the novices, teenage townies most of them, would begin to wilt, Jim would spur them on with an encouraging word and that memorable basso-profundo chuckle that seemed to rumble up from his boots. He was a faithful supporter of the local Emo footballers and would often travel to matches or to Croke Park with them.

For ten years (1946-1956) Jim worked in the walled garden at Emo with John Treacy who had worked there in earlier times under the head-gardener, Dan Deegan. Dan could remember the Earl of Portarlington on horseback marking out with canes the spots where the Wellingtonia avenue saplings were to be planted. John used to speak, engagingly, of “the Lord's time”. Years later when Jim was in Dublin the papers carried a death notice for a John Treacy in Emo. Several members of the Province travelled to Emo for the funeral, only to discover that retired gardener John was in attendance, too. Next time the canny Jim was visiting Emo, John chided him, “You never came to my funeral!”

After two years spent in the garden and on the farm at Milltown Park, Jim was appointed to Clongowes. From 1958 to 1964 he had charge of the many staff there, skilled and unskilled. Most of the refectory and cleaning staff then were young lads who lived on the premises. Jim's room adjoined their dormitory (now the SRPA loft) and he would have had them into work by 6 a.m. In those days there were no summer projects, as now, when staff could be retained and gainfully employed while school was out. Instead Jim organised ambitious schemes, joining in the work - and the fun - himself. One year it was all hands on deck to rip up the worn-out wooden floorboards of the boys' refectory. Dry fill was wheel-barrowed in, concrete poured and skimmed, tiles laid and sealed – a perfect finish, still good to this day. In the course of another summer, indoor and outdoor staffs combined to surface the entire length of the side avenue, boiling the tar, spreading it, coating it with limestone chippings and rolling it, proud as punch and enjoying themselves in the summer sunshine under Jim's genial supervision.

A year in Galway was followed by nine assisting in the community at the Catholic Workers College. Changes of Jesuit personnel and policy in what became the College of Industrial Relations did not affect Jim greatly and he always seemed content there, getting on well with community, staff and students alike.

In 1974 he was chosen for a daunting task - to assist Fr Scan McCarron in closing down Mungret College, disposing of furniture, etc. One morning Sean failed to turn up for Mass. Jim went to his room and found him dead. Being on his own after that, he was anxious about security; so he spread the rumour among the locals that the college was haunted. If Jim was to be believed (frequently problematic – Jim was a past master at 'codding', the national pastime), the rumour was not unfounded. One night the remains of several Jesuits that had been exhumed from a small burial plot close to the school were being held on the premises in readiness for reinterment next day in the enlarged Jesuit plot in the old Mungret Abbey cemetery. As Jim told it, Sean and himself were wakened in the middle of that same night by persistent ringing on the door bell.

Except for that year in Mungret, from 1964 on Jim was to then spend thirty-six years in Dublin. In those days he was a familiar, if incongruous, sight setting off to visit family in Bray, this gentle giant on his wee Honda 50. There was a touch of bravado about his regular trips to the Forty Foot for the Christmas Day swim and many an afternoon in between, wrapped only in a faded gaberdene. No leathers for Jim! No persuading him to invest in a bigger bike. He had always tried to save money wherever he had worked; so he was never going to start spending on himself.

As part of the administrative team at Gonzaga (1975 1991), Jim was, as one colleague recalls, "very dependable, a great companion." He related well with staff, treating all with respect and good humour. Some became his friends for life. Standards of maintenance, decoration and cleanliness improved greatly under his leadership. With the proliferation of prefabs, so difficult to keep clean, Gonzaga, of all places, had become a bit of a slum. Jim and his staff were happy to see the end of them. He coped well with two successive sets of contractors, come on site to build, first, the eight-classroom block and, later, the science building. With his keen eye for good workers, he spotted a likely candidate for groundsman in the foreman on the latter building. Typical of Jim's tongue-in-cheek humour was his instruction, to the consternation of the same groundsman, that the great purple beech on the front lawn, the glory of the college grounds, would have to come down. Needless to say, it is still standing, as magnificent as ever.

Those were happy years for Jim. The boys used to crowd into his little office at breaks to join in the craic. He shared their enthusiasms, especially for sport. The boys were fond of him - he was a ready and sympathetic listener. In his own schooldays at Presentation College, Bray, he had been known to take a penalty at soccer with such force that it carried both ball and goalie to the back of the net. His rugby loyalties were divided between Gonzaga and Pres Bray, where a nephew was on the cup team. Jim supported winners and was annoyed when Gonzaga let the Senior Cup slip out of their grasp in the semi final. He switched allegiance to Liverpool at a time when they were on the up-and-up in the League.

It was the same when Jim went to the races. He always seemed to back winners; at least, the community never heard of him losing. He loved horses and claimed to be able to spot the winner by “the glint in the eye”. Even for years after Jim had left Gonzaga, appreciative parents would present him with an annual pass to the enclosure at Leopardstown Racecourse. At the races past students would gather round as soon as they saw him. At Jim's funeral the mother of a past Gonzagan spoke of him as “a dote”. She recalled that whenever the parents were organising a function he would welcome them with a warm smile and would have everything they needed set out for them.

Sadly, in latter years Jim seemed to lack the energy to attend race meetings. His years at Leeson St (1991-2002) were dogged by ill-health, yet he was determined to carry out to the full all his tasks as Minister, Assistant Treasurer and Health Prefect. His total dedication, even when his energies were fading, was remarkable. Rather than look for help, he would still try to do everything himself, even when he was no longer able. His feet gave him trouble; he couldn't walk or stand for any length of time. His prayer-life was undemonstrative. Every morning he would spend half-an-hour in the community oratory and again ten minutes at night.

Over his last few weeks at St. Vincent's Private Hospital his sheer goodness made a deep impression on the staff there. Despite his suffering and weakness he was totally undemanding, He never once rang the bell for assistance. Most of all, the nurses loved his smile, bashful maybe, but always warm. The only word his friend Fr Todd Morrissey heard him say was “Tough going”.

-oOo-

In the November issue of the Messenger, Paul Andrews writes of Jim: “Fifteen years ago he was operated on for cancer, something went wrong, and he was at the point of death. Later he told me about the day of extreme crisis. Though apparently unconscious, he was aware of a sense of foreboding around his hospital bed, and he felt his body in terrible shape while medics worked feverishly to keep him alive. Then Jim's mind withdrew from the body, and he remembers moving across a bridge towards a bright, beautiful place on the other side. He was happy, buoyed up by a feeling of joy and anticipation. Round the middle of the bridge the joy was interrupted. People were pulling him back, and when he came to himself he was, sadly, in the hospital bed, in a painfully sick body, disappointed and rather angry at being hauled back from happiness. For the next fourteen years he laboured in an increasingly sick body, and was noted for his tender care of sick people. Perhaps he could convey to those who were facing the end, that there was a lot to look forward to, and that the last act of life is beautiful. When his final sickness overtook him, he went in extraordinary peace”.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1991

Appreciation

Jim Barry SJ

Brother Barry, Jim to his friends, left Gonzaga this summer quietly and unexpectedly. He occupied the post of Administrator for seventeen years. Jim is a big man, strong and quietly courageous. Gonzaga's urban setting and attractive grounds have made it the target of occasional hostility. Jim's determination stood the test of many such an unpleasantness. The school's ivory redoubts had a powerful defender. His practical abilities were many and varied. He repaired broken windows, hacksawed sealed lockers, repaired over-head projectors with equal patience and thoroughness.

He was most frequently found, untipped cigarette in hand, seated in his narrow Spartan office. To offer him a 'safer' brand was to cause him quiet amusement. He welcomed callers, who frequently remained conversing until displaced by his next client. He became confidant to students whose status did not normally bring them into benign contact with adults. He had a remarkable understanding of and tough sympathy for the marginalised underdog. His influence in certain circles was as considerable as it was informal. He was unofficial Form-Tutor to the Gonzaga underworld.

Jim's comments were refreshingly free from the evasions and obfuscation of institutional man. His analysis of school current affairs had an uncompromising clarity, simple yet thought provoking.

His role involved a complex of major and minor responsibilities. They ranged in time from 8 o'clock in the morning until 11 o'clock at night. They varied, expanded or contracted entirely, frustratingly at the whim of others. He opened all doors, conferring all keys. To lose one was, in his eyes, the grossest of moral turpitudes. Staff members who erred in this regard skulked belatedly to his office to cringe and be shriven. They received a replacement key imploding painfully under his querulous gaze. One staff member was so fearful and guilt-ridden that he changed the lock on his classroom door, financing the deceit himself. Inevitably, Jim discovered this crime and sentenced him to years of internal exile. He had subtle ways of exercising sanctions against those who would not accept his standard of security or order.

His interests extended well beyond the perimeter of the College. He was a keen racing man and follower of Gaelic football. When his beloved Cork was playing, Jim had no time for objective comment. You were 'for him or agin him’ in most things. His willingness to be available each day to carry out often irritating tasks patiently and efficiently was at times truly heroic. I will remember his tall strong figure with waves of pupils washing around him as he dispensed Mars bars and packets of biscuits at lunch-time.

John Mulgrew

Benn, William J, 1882-1952, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/917
  • Person
  • 06 May 1882-21 February 1951

Born: 06 May 1882, Castleconnell, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1901, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 28 June 1915, Woodstock College MD, USA
Final vows: 02 February 1919
Died: 21 February 1951, Gonzaga University, Spokane, WA, USA - Oregonensis Province (ORE)

Transcribed HIB to TAUR : 1903; TAUR to CAL : 1909; CAL to ORE

Brady, John M, 1935-2014, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/849
  • Person
  • 03 September 1935-15 April 2014

Born: 03 September 1935, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1953, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 10 July 1968, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 15 August 1973, College of Industrial Relations, Dublin
Died: 15 April 2014, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1970 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/jesuit-economist-honoured/

John Brady SJ was conferred with an Honorary Fellowship by the National College of Ireland on Friday 20 Nov,’09. Many former colleagues, Jesuits and friends were there to celebrate his achievement. John Brady SJ spent thirty years of his life at the NCI which was formerly known as the National College of Industrial Relations, based in Ranelagh. According to Dr Tony White of the Milltown Institute, who gave the citation, John Brady was a moderniser. He said it was mainly during his time that the college moved from being a college of adult education to a mainline third-level institution. He also oversaw the employment of lay staff along with Jesuits.”That expansion of course increased the cost base but John’s skills extended to ensuring that the College increased its financial resources to pay for this expansion. He may have had a vow of poverty, but he understood money. After all he is an economist!” Click here to read the full text of Tony White’s speech.
Citation for Reverend John Brady SJ on the occasion of the conferring of an Honorary Fellowship by the National College of Ireland , 20 November 2009
It is very appropriate that we should today be conferring an honorary fellowship on Father John Brady. John Brady is somebody who has made an immense contribution to developing this college and bringing the National College of Ireland to its present position, and it is right that we should acknowledge this contribution in a tangible way.
John Brady is a northside Dubliner. He was educated at Kostka College in Clontarf. He entered the Society of Jesus in 1953. Following two years of novitiate at Emo he continued his studies of economics and history at University College Dublin where he graduated in 1958. Three years of the study of philosophy followed at Tullabeg, after which he spent four years teaching at Crescent College in Limerick and Belvedere College. He then went to Milltown Park to study theology and was ordained there in 1968.
He came to this college in 1970; at that time it was known as the National College of industrial Relations and was located in Ranelagh. He would remain a member of the college staff for thirty years. During his first two years he completed a master’s in economics at University College Dublin. In 1972 he was appointed Director of the College and he held that position for ten years.
John Brady was a moderniser. During his time as Director NCIR made the transition from being primarily a college of adult education to becoming a mainline third-level college. The College had opened as the Catholic Workers College in 1951, and it developed from the skills and contacts of a small and remarkable group of Jesuits in the 1950s and 1960s.
Most of them were still at the College when John joined the staff. He built on the tradition they had established. He consolidated relations with the social partners, and the National College of Industrial Relations became a meeting point for unions and management. John Brady helped to make it very much a crossroads and a good place for what we now call networking.
The College built up a unique niche for itself in industrial relations nationally. John had the diplomatic skills to enable the College to maintain good relations and respect with both sides of industry, no mean achievement in the Ireland of that time. The traditional links with the trade union movement which had been there from the beginning were built on further , and in addition the College became a nationally recognised centre of excellence for teaching what was then referred to as personnel management, and what is today called human resource management.
That was the point at which the College made the transition to becoming a third level institution. John Brady saw the need for external accreditation and recognition of the College’s awards and under him NCIR had its first experience of state recognition with the National Council for Educational Awards, the forerunner of what is now HETAC The National Diploma in Industrial Relations Studies achieved recognition in 1976. This was a major breakthrough because there were at that time many, including a number of influential public servants, who were reluctant to see private colleges like this college achieving state recognition. Under John planning also began on the next phase, which was the move upwards to degree work which took place in the 1980s. These steps constituted the largest and most important transformation in the College’s history and they happened under John’s leadership.
While John was the driver in transforming the College into a third level institution and meeting all the quality inputs, demands and targets that this required, it was also a priority for him that the College would not neglect its roots and that its newly acquired status would not choke the important role which it had always given to access, to looking after those who were often overlooked by the rest of the higher education system. For him the commitment to access, to ensuring that people could have a second chance at achieving their potential, was something of a mission. He ensured that this would remain a college where so far as possible every individual, regardless of what their previous educational history had been, would be afforded an opportunity to develop their full potential. More than anyone else he helped maintain that balance which saw this college achieve genuine third level status, while at the same time maintaining that commitment to offering a very wide level of access to higher education that has put NCI into the unique position nationally which was recognised by the OECD report in 2004.
By the same token John was good at spotting talent, and good also at letting people have their head. In his time as Director the staff grew significantly and he was the one who introduced the first cohort of lay staff. Previously the staff had been almost exclusively Jesuit. That expansion of course increased the cost base but John’s skills extended to ensuring that the College increased its financial resources to pay for this expansion. He may have had a vow of poverty, but he understood money. After all he is an economist.
John Brady has also during his career been a regular contributor to newspapers and journals on economic and social matters. His primary interest was economics, but he was one of those economists whose scope was wide and who wrote on political economy and the social impact of economic decisions and trends. He was also one of those people who reflected and wrote about how the problems of Northern Ireland might eventually be brought to resolution. He was not just a highly practical and effective administrator but by his writing and his activity in the public arena he helped to create the acceptance of this college as one where serious scholarship and intellectual reflection took place.
Asked what characterised John Brady, one of those who worked with him in the early years of the College suggested that he was somebody who offered calm leadership to very strong individuals. He is indeed a calm, gentle and courteous man, a widely – read man and someone with a great interest in music. You are liable to bump into him regularly at the National Concert Hall. Nevertheless behind that gentle exterior there was the passion, the determination, the steel and the vision that tend to be marks of successful leaders of complex institutions like this College.
It is fitting then that this serious scholar and far-seeing manager should be numbered among the honorary fellows of this College, and it is my privilege and pleasure to commend Father John Brady SJ for this distinction.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 156 : Summer 2014

Obituary

Fr John Brady (1925-2014)

3 September 1935 : Born in Dublin
Early education at Holy Faith Convent and Kostka College
7 September 1953: Entered the Society at Emo
8 September 1955: First Vows at Emo
1955 - 1957: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1957 - 1961: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1961 - 1963: Crescent College, Limerick - Teacher
1963 - 1965: Belvedere College - Teacher
1965 - 1969: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
10 July 1968: Ordained at Milltown Park
1969 - 1970: Tertianship at St. Beuno's
1970 - 1984: College of Industrial Relations
1970 - 1972: Lecturer; Post-grad. Studies in Economics (MA from UCD)
1973 - 1982: Director of CIR; Lecturer
15 August 1973: Final Vows
1982 - 1983: Sabbatical year
1983 - 1984: Lecturer in Economics at C.I.R.
1984 - 2014: Gonzaga College - Lecturer in Economics at NCIR; Writer
1987 - 1994: Lecturer in Economics at NCR; Writer; Research Lecturer
1994 - 2000: Chaplain and Lecturer in Economics at NCIR; Writer; Research
2000 - 2001: Writer; Research Lecturer
2001 - 2004: Co-ordinator, Cherryfield Lodge; Sacred Space contributor
2004 - 2010: Co-ordinator, Cherryfield Lodge; Prefect of Health; Writer
2010: Prefect of Health. Assistant Chaplain Cherryfield Lodge; Writer, Emeritus
2010 - 2011: Assistant Chaplain at Cherryfield Lodge; Writer, Emeritus Lecturer at NCI
2011 - 2012: Emeritus Lecturer at National College of Ireland.
2012 - 2014: Resident, Cherryfield Lodge. Prayed for the Church and the Society

Fr. Brady was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 26th October 2012 when he needed nursing care. His condition deteriorated over time, more so over the last couple of months. He died peacefully before 6:00 am on l5th April 2014. May he rest in the Peace of Christ

Fr John Brady died in Cherryfield Lodge on 15 April, at the age of 78. The big crowds at his Removal and Funeral Mass were a reminder of his range of interests, and of the affection with which so many regarded him. He was educated at an interesting school with Jesuit roots, Kostka College in Clontarf, founded and managed by Louis Roden who had been a Jesuit novice. John entered the Jesuits at 18. Son of a civil servant, with roots in Cavan and Meath, his Jesuit life was mainly centred round the College of Industrial Relations, where he was first a lecturer in Economics, then director of the college from 1973-1982, then, for a further 17 years, lecturer and chaplain. His publications, in clear and dispassionate prose, centred mainly on questions of economic and social policy, in the Republic and in Northern Ireland.

He had joys and interests outside his work, notably in art, tennis, music and sailing (he was active in the Glénans organisation, first as an apprentice sailor, later as an instructor). John was open-minded, supportive of younger colleagues, and with a keen curiosity about the world he lived in. As a scholastic in Crescent College in 1962, he had shown a capacity for strategic thinking and action. Brendan Staunton, then a Fifth Year pupil, remembers how John was introduced to the tennis team as their new coach. “He looked the part, with his dazzling head of blond hair. His speaking style however was new to us, and his knowledge of tennis sounded esoteric, most un-Limerick-like. The team progressed to the final, in which they beat Glenstal. At a school assembly John Brady was acclaimed for his shrewd knowledge of the game and his team. What we didn't realise until well after our win was something John Brady did behind the scenes. Glenstal had played their previous rounds on hard courts. John quietly managed to have the final played on grass, in the Club where four of the team were members. And that made all the difference!”

In his homily at John's Requiem Mass, Bill Toner noted the same capacity for strategic thinking:

I was only head-hunted once in my life, and that was by John, who had just been appointed Director of the College of Industrial Relations. He was very strategic in his approach to the job. One aspect of that was that he kept an eye out for young Jesuits who might be persuaded to work in the College. I had studied accountancy in my younger days, and John had just finished designing a National Diploma course in industrial relations which included a subject called 'Financial Control Systems'. So I was quickly in his sights. Anyway the result was that I spent 17 happy years in the CIR, and for the first seven John was my boss.

John was great to work with. When I look back at it now I imagine he must have found me insufferable at times, but he never showed it. He was very humble, and that is why the Beatitudes came to me when I was suggesting a Gospel for the Mass. Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. I was full of new ideas when I arrived and I must have frequently strayed onto his patch, but he never pulled rank or said I am the boss here. He seemed to enjoy the contribution made by the various young Turks, Jesuit and lay, who came to work in the College. He was not himself a revolutionary by temperament, but he was greatly fascinated by people who wanted to shake things up and rock the boat and was always ready to give them their head. The result was that there was a great atmosphere of freedom and bold ideas in the College. Lecturers were, to my knowledge, never reined in. If a lecturer was reported to have said something outrageous, rallying people to the cause of the class war or something like that, John would find it amusing rather than shocking. He presided every week at extraordinary faculty meetings - I mean extraordinary in the sense of bizarre rather than unscheduled - which Fr. Bill McKenna used to call the weekly blood letting. These were an occasion for outrageous statements and the taking of indefensible positions. I don't think John could always have found these amusing, but he presided over them with great calm and dignity. I think he regarded them as part of the cut and thrust of academic life. It is said that Henry Kissinger was once given a choice between being president of an American university or working to solve Vietnam conflict and he chose Vietnam as the less stressful of the two. In the end indeed the pressures of being Director of the College for nine years began to tell on John and he gave up the job in 1981, confining himself after that to lecturing in economics.

As Director, John had a great relationship with the students. He took very seriously the characteristics of Jesuit education which have been developed over centuries. In the current Jesuit document on education we can read: The human person, understood in the context of his or her eternal destiny, is the central focus of the Jesuit college. Jesuit education insists on individual care and concern for each person. It invites each student onto their unique journey of personal, moral and spiritual development. Our Mission is to help the students grow holistically. John really believed in that. He encouraged us on the staff to get to know all the students personally, never regarding meetings with individual students as a waste of time. In the early days many of the trade union students had left school at 14 but John was always quick to spot potential and he would talk to them and encourage them to go as far as they could and as far as they wanted to. Many people owe the flowering of their personal academic development to the College and to John. John brought the same concern for the personal care of students to his work as a member of the board of Greendale Community School in Kilbarrack.

John was every inch a Jesuit. He loved the Society. I could say that he was very faithful in going to functions in various Houses, but it was much more than that – he really enjoyed meeting the brethren. In fact he was exceptionally good at meeting people from all walks of life and maintaining firm friendships. He had great friends in the trade union movement, and also in management. John was not naïve. He knew that there were many people in the trade union movement who didn't trust the College and what it was doing, seeing it as an effort to de-radicalise the trade union movement. On the other hand he knew that there were employers and managers who didn't like us because we were giving their workers strange ideas and teaching them to speak up for themselves. The college brought many of these people, managers and union officials, together under the one roof. I can remember one occasion when the lights were on all night in the college. It marked a pause for breath during an E.S.B. strike. The College was chosen as a neutral venue where the E.S.B. unions and management could hammer out an agreement, which they did at 7 a.m. A number of commentators, some critical and some not, have suggested that the College played an important role in developing the concept of partnership in the conduct of industrial relations in Ireland. Although national wage agreements may now be a thing of the past, they probably played a crucial role in the steadying of the ship after some of the disastrous and destructive labour and management disputes of the 60s.
It is interesting to note that seven national wage agreements were negotiated during the period that John Brady was Director of the College. Although John was not directly involved in these, he and the College were definitely making a contribution, big or small, to the creation of a climate where people in industry could talk to one another. John had so many interests outside the College that it would be impossible to list them all. He was a man of deep culture. He had Norah McGuiness paintings hanging in the College tea room before most people had even heard of Norah McGuiness. He loved the theatre and good books. He was passionately interested in politics. He came to the College just as the conflict in Northern Ireland broke out, and he was a leading member of the Jesuit network, Jesuits in Northern Ireland, where he made very thoughtful contributions, with interesting angles on difficult questions. Blessed are the peacemakers - John tried his best to be a peacemaker whether in the field of industrial relations or in the Northern Ireland conflict.

John's basic discipline was economics, and he did his master's degree in the economics of transport in Ireland, a subject which fascinated him. He was an academic in the best sense of the world, not because he liked arguing about arcane concepts, but because he could see the power of ideas-and-solid-arguments to bring about change. He was a very popular lecturer in the college. Remarkably, considering his success as a Director, he suffered from a very bad stammer, and nothing showed the determination in his character more than his refusal to let that prevent him from doing anything he wanted to do, whether it was saying a public Mass, or giving a public lecture, or addressing the students at conferring. It was in itself a lesson to all of us not to let some real or imagined problem pull us down. Again, only a very humble person could deal with something like that – he was not too proud to let his fragility show.

John was a very generous person, and could rarely resist helping a poor person who asked him for help. Some would say that he was generous to a fault, but perhaps that accusation would also be laid at the feet of Jesus Christ. St Paul said of Jesus: "Christ died for the ungodly. Why, one will hardly die for a righteous man - but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us”. I don't think John's generosity was a fault that he needed to worry about when he went to meet his maker.

It was sad that John's last years were blighted so much by illness and by memory failure. A time like this is a good time to remember him at his very best, as a good and talented and prayerful Jesuit, to thank God for the contribution he made to the economic and cultural life of his country. We pray for the consolation of his relatives and friends, especially Luke, his brother, his sister in law Catherine, his niece Lisanne, and his nephew Colin. And we pray for John himself that he is now at eternal peace with God.

Bill Toner

Brenan, Richard Henry, 1918-1995, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/495
  • Person
  • 07 April 1918-31 December 1995

Born: 07 April 1918, Ballyragget, County Kilkenny
Entered: 07 September 1936, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1981, John Austin House, Dublin
Died: 31 December 1995, Gonzaga College, Dublin

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1951 at Paray-le-Monial France (LUGD) making Tertianship
by 1975 at Franklin Paris (GAL) teaching

◆ The Clongownian, 1996

Obituary

Father Richard Brenan SJ

Fr Richard Brenan SJ was born at Ballyragget, Co. Kilkenny and came to Clongowes from CBC, Kilkenny. His course of Jesuit studies followed what was then the standard pattern: novitiate at St Mary's, Emo; an Arts degree at UCD, while residing in Rathfarnham Castle; philosophy at Tullabeg and theology at Milltown Park, after three years' teaching, in his case at Crescent College, Limerick, Dick was ordained on 31 July 1949. When he finished his theological studies the year after, he went to Paray-le-Monial in France to do his tertianship, the year of spiritual renewal which is the last stage of formal Jesuit training.

On his return from France he went to Mungret as prefect, teacher and gamesmaster for four years (1951-55) and then spent a further two years in Gonzaga fulfilling similar functions. After that he moved to the work of giving missions and retreats which occupied much of the rest of his life. He spent a decade in Tullabeg on the staff there and then two years at Milltown Park as assistant director of the retreat house. From 1969-74 he was assis tant to the Novice Master at Manresa (for two years), vocations promotor and assistant director of the retreat house.

He spent 1974-75 on sabbatical in Paris and then resumed his work as a retreat-giver, first at John Austin House on North Circular Road in Dublin and finally at Rathfarnham Castle, where he was superior and director of the retreat house in the last three years of its existence as a Jesuit house (1982-85). When Rathfarnham closed he went to Leeson St as minister and assistant to the editor of The Messenger. Finally, in 1991, he went back to Gonzaga, where he continued to do some work for The Messenger and gave some pastoral assistance in the school.

Since the move to Gonzaga, there were periodic spells in the nearby Jesuit infirmary, Cherryfield Lodge, although he always managed to return to Gonzaga. It was there that he died on the last day of 1995, having managed to say Mass daily to the very end.

As the career outlined above suggests, Dick Brenan was a good and loyal servant of the Jesuit province, using his gifts in a variety of functions. He was a friendly, approachable man, with a gift for working with young people, despite a capacity to take himself some what seriously (”Brenan with one ‘n’” was a refrain familiar to his fellow-Jesuits!) While actively involved in the ministry, he found time to write a book on the Jesuit scholastic St John Berchmans, which sought with some success to make the image of the young Belgian more vivid and accessible. He also pursued his interest in photography.

He bore his infirmity at the end of his life with good humour and little fuss and died peacefully, although unexpectedly. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1996

Obituary

Richard Brenan SJ

by Alex Brennan (5a)

I regret that I only came to know Fr Dick Brenan in the later years of his life at Gonzaga. At the time he was suffering from Friedrich's Ataxia, which caused a slow deterioration of his muscles. It was very distressing to see a man with such clarity of vision and dexterity of mind, crippled by such a de bilitating physical ailment. For the final two years of his life, Fr Brenan had become almost completely immobile. I know that he was greatly distressed when he became unable to enjoy fully the grounds of his beloved Gonzaga.

Richard Brenan was born in 1918 in Ballyragget, Co. Kilkenny. Educated at Clongowes Wood College, he joined the Jesu its at the age of 18 and was ordained in Milltown Park in 1949. His first encounter with Gonzaga College was as a teacher in 1955. He remained for two years, before postings to Tullabeg, Milltown and Manresa. In 1974 he spent a year in Paris at L'Ecole St. Louis de Gonzaga.

In 1985 he was made Assistant Editor of the Sacred Heart Messenger, and was based at the Jesuit House in Leeson Street, before returning to Gonzaga in 1991, where he re mained until his death.

In the company of his other great Jesuit colleague Fr. Frank Browne, Fr. Brenan had an abiding passion for photography, which re mained with him well into his later years.
As a person, Richard Brenan was blunt and to the point. In contrast, his spirit and compassion commanded the respect of all who met him. I first encountered him as my reli gion teacher in Prep. 4. I was somewhat awe struck at the time by his control in class; while he had some difficulty in walking, his strength of personality shone through.

A class in First year cemented our friend ship of six years, disproving his modest sugges tion that classes would "outgrow his company. Our friendship proved something of an enigma to many staff members who heard him joke that we were somehow related. It was not the case.

As our friendship developed I found in Fr. Brenan a confidant, someone to ask for advice, or simply an interesting companion with whom to pass an hour or two. He was always interested in anything I was involved in and his extensive learning made talking with him an enjoyable and educational experience.

I will always remember Fr. Brenan in a very special way. I know he will be remembered for his generosity of spirit and kindness to all. He had always promised to help me with my French as I approached the Leaving Cert.; I hope I can do justice to his faith in me.

Alex Brennan (5A)

Brennan, Joseph A, 1929-2018, Jesuit priest

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

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

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

by 1966 at Brussels Belgium (BEL M) studying

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

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

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

Clancy, Finbarr GJ, 1954-2015, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/842
  • Person
  • 14 November 1954-15 July 2015

Born: 14 November 1954, Dunlavin, County Wicklow
Entered: 26 September 1979, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Ordained: 25 June 1988, St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 2011, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died; 15 July 2015, Mater Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Clongowes Wood, College SJ, Naas, County Kildare community at the time of death.

by 1989 at Campion Oxford (BRI) studying

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/born-teacher-never-forgot-students/

A born teacher loved by his students
The first anniversary of the death of renowned Jesuit theologian Fr. Finbarr Clancy SJ was on 15 July. The following is an extract of a personal tribute paid to Fr. Finbarr by Fr. D. Vincent Twomey, Professor Emeritus of Moral Theology at St. Patrick’s College Maynooth, a colleague of Finbarr’s in patristic studies, at the end of Finbarr’s funeral Mass on 18 July 2015. Finbarr died following a short illness and is fondly remembered by his fellow Jesuits as well as his many colleagues and friends. He had lectured at St. Patrick’s College Maynooth and was formerly Professor of Theology at the Milltown Institute.

I got to know Fr Finbarr, when he and his confrère, Fr Ray Moloney, joined the Maynooth Patristic Symposium in 1994, two years after Finbarr had completed his DPhil in Oxford. He was teaching at the time in Milltown. Later I invited him to teach the seminarians in Maynooth. His first paper to the symposium was an introduction to his thesis on St Augustine’s understanding of Church. Over the course of the following twenty-one years, he never missed a meeting and delivered several scholarly papers either at the ordinary meetings of the symposium during each academic year or at our triennial international conferences.

What strikes me is how his earlier life-experiences all coloured his scholarship and enabled him to discover treasures that others had failed to notice. His training as a scientist enriched the way he researched his topics and the care he took in his presentation. His erudition, which he wore lightly, was evident in all he wrote. He was familiar not only with Scripture and with the Greek and Latin thinkers, pagan and Christian, who formed Western civilisation, but also the Syriac and the early Irish Christian writers, who are often neglected. And he could illuminate one or other point with a reference to some literary classic. Typical was a paper he wrote for the last Maynooth International Patristic Conference in 2012 on ‘The pearl of great beauty and the mysteries of the faith’. Patristic studies, to which Fr Finbarr devoted all his free time, when he was not involved in teaching or administration in Milltown, is not concerned with what is passé, but with what is ever new. The excitement of discovering such pearls, such richness, expressed itself in Fr Finbarr’s teaching, when he offered his students the results of his own labour of love. He was a born teacher. His students loved him. One former seminarian wrote to me on hearing of his untimely death: he was a gentleman both in his lectures and outside them – and he never forgot his students.

His life-long concern for the poor and marginalised was reflected in a major paper on the Cappadocian Fathers, who are generally studied primarily for their profound theology of the Holy Trinity. By way of contrast, Fr Finbarr highlighted their care for the poor. His last public lecture, on 5 May in Maynooth under the auspices of the St John Paul II Theological Society, was, fittingly, devoted to the topic: ‘St John Chrysostom on Care for the Poor’.

His love of gardening, which he inherited from his father, and his interest in botany can be seen in the quite extraordinarily rich paper read at the International Conference held in conjunction with Queen’s University, Belfast and devoted to the topic of Salvation. Fr Finbarr spoke on ‘Christ the scented apple and the fragrance of the world’s salvation: a theme in St Ambrose’s Commentary on Ps 118’. In his paper, he showed how, in contrast with the fruit from the tree of life in the garden of Eden, good to eat and pleasing to the eye but bringing death and decay, Ambrose ‘teaches that the story of salvation concerns the gracious invitation to inhale the fragrance of the world’s redemption emanating from the scented apple, Christ, the fruit that hangs on the cross, the tree of life. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps 33:9)’.

Perhaps his most spiritually inspiring paper was that read to the Oxford Patristic Conference commemorating the outbreak of Diocletian’s so-called Great Persecution in AD 303. It was entitled: ‘The mind of the persecuted: “Imitating the Mysteries you celebrate”’. Here his own priestly spirituality found eloquent expression as he showed how martyrdom – bearing witness to Christ, even to the point of death – was not only made possible by sharing in the Sacrifice of Christ on the altar but that the martyrs themselves were existential realisations of the mystery of the Eucharist. The liturgy was Fr Finbarr’s passion. At the end of April last, he invited me to join in the Clongowes liturgy, involving some 450 pupils and some fifty parents in the new Sports Hall, which. I gathered later, bore the distinct imprint of his own theology and aesthetics. It was quite magnificent. He told me, not without a sense of justified pride and genuine pleasure, that he and his colleague and friend Mr Cyril Murphy, Director of Liturgy in Clongowes, gave weekly talks on the liturgy to as many as 100 students each Thursday from 9.00 to 10.00 and that, what’s more, the students seemed to enjoy them. They too will greatly miss him.

The Eucharist was at the heart of Fr Finbarr’s life and theology, as it was for his first scholarly love, St Augustine, because it is at the heart of the Church. Likewise, as a Companion of Jesus, Scripture was his deepest inspiration, which he read through the eyes of the Church Fathers. He once gave a paper on the apt topic: ‘Tasting the food and the inebriating cup of Scriptures: a heme in St Ambrose’s Psalm Commentaries’.

When Fr Finbarr hosted a special meeting of the Maynooth Patristic Symposium in Clongowes on the 2 May last, he drew our attention to the motto of the school over the entrance: Aeterna non caduca. These sentiments, he informed us, were echoed by St Columbanus, as he himself would demonstrate that morning in his paper to the Symposium, in effect a trial-run for the Oxford Patristic Conference which he had hoped to attend in August. According to him, ‘Columbanus loved to contrast the transience of things temporal and earthly with the permanence of things eternal. The thirsting human soul, like a pilgrim in a desert land, longs to be dissolved and be with Christ. The reward of the soul’s pilgrimage is the vision of things heavenly face to face’. I conclude with what seems a fitting quotation from St Columbanus’s song De mundi transitu, which Fr Finbarr once quoted: ‘Joyful after crossing Death / They shall see their joyful King: / With him reigning they shall reign, / with him rejoicing they shall rejoice ...’ May he rest in peace.

◆ Interfuse No 161 : Autumn 2015 & ◆ The Clongownian, 2015

Obituary

Fr Finbarr Clancy (1954-2015)

14 November 1954 : Born in Dunlavin, Co Wicklow.
Early Education at Dunlavin NS, Clongowes Wood College SJ & Trinity College Dublin
26 September 1979 Entered Society at Manresa House, Dollymount,
25 September 1981: First Vows at Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
1981 - 1983: Milltown Park - Studying Philosophy at Milltown Institute
1983 - 1985: Belvedere - Regency: Teacher; Studying for H Dip in Education at TCD Dublin
1985 - 1988: Leinster Road - Studying Theology at Milltown Institute
25 June 1988: Ordained at St Francis Xavier Church, Gardiner St, College Dublin
1988 - 1992: Campion Hall, Oxford, UK - Doctoral Studies in Theology
1992 - 1996: Milltown Park - Lecturer at Milltown Institute; Pastoral Work
1996 - 1997: Belfast, Co Antrim - Tertianship
1997 - 2014: Milltown Park - Lecturer at Milltown Institute; Pastoral Work
1999: Invited Lecturer in Theology at Pontifical University, St Patrick's College, Maynooth, Co Kildare
2000: Co-ordinator of Evening Programmes in Theology at Milltown Institute
2001: Senior Lecturer in Theology at Milltown Institute
2004: Director of Evening Programmes in Theology at Milltown Institute
2006: Associate Professor of Theology, Pontifical Faculty, Milltown Institute; Rector of the Pontifical Athanaeum, Milltown Institute
2011: Acting President of Milltown Institute; Rector Ecclesiastical Faculty
2 Feb 2011: Final Vows at Gonzaga Chapel, Milltown Park, Dublin
2013: Sabbatical
2014 - 2015: Clongowes - Lecturer in Theology at Pontifical University, St Patrick's College, Maynooth, Co Kildare and at Loyola Institute, Trinity College, Dublin; Librarian

Finbarr suffered a serious heart attack on 3 July and was admitted to the Mater Hospital for treatment and recovery. He had a number of operations to stabilise and improve his condition, but unfortunately the damage from the initial episode was too compromising. Having happily received visitors in recent days and been in good form, he was not able to sustain a second attack and died in his sleep in the early hours of 15 July. May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

At Finbarr's funeral, Fr Provincial, Tom Layden, preached the homily, of which the following is an edited version.

My memories of Finbarr go back to our days in the noviciate 1979 1981. I especially remember the weeks we spent together in Lent 1980 in the Morning Star hostel, helping the staff to provide meals and shelter for the homeless men who resided there. I recall his great kindness to the men and his great desire to respect their dignity and do all he could to make their lives easier and more enjoyable.
Each evening we would pray Compline, the office of Night Prayer, together. At one point, we would pause to look back over the day and, after some quiet moments, share the day's ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, the successes and failures. It was in those moments of faith sharing that he and I came to know each other at a deep level. He could speak easily about each day's journey from the perspective of faith. In those reflections we encouraged and strengthened each other. Often in his sharing he would mention his family and how important they were to him. He would speak of his late father, who had died two years earlier. I recall him telling me about his father saying to him the last time they spoke before his death, as Finbarr was bringing his Trinity research to its conclusion, Don't worry'. Those words, echoing what Jesus says in the Gospel, 'Let not your hearts be troubled', stayed with Finbarr. He certainly saw his father's words as encouraging him to trust in God. He was concerned about his mother living by herself in Dunlavin. Her letters, phone calls and visits always brought him joy and encouragement. This remained the case until she went home to the Lord in 2000.

We served together some years later in Belvedere College, where we were teaching before going to theology studies. Finbarr went there the year ahead of me, so, when I arrived in 1984, he knew his way around the place and was able to explain to me how things were done in the Jesuit community and the school. He was a model teacher. Always so carefully prepared, he knew each of his students and took a personal interest in them. He was a most efficient and knowledgeable sacristan. Above all, he was a simply a good companion. At the end of my first year, he and I went on holiday in the Burren. It was a rare treat to be introduced to such an interesting landscape by a botanist who could point out the various flowers to me. I saw his great knowledge but also the great joy he found in sharing that knowledge with me.

He had great appreciation of the gift of God's beauty reflected in creation. He noticed that beauty, observed it and attended to it. Later, after doctoral studies in Oxford, specialising in St Augustine's theology of the church, he returned to the Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology, where he taught up until last year. The same meticulous preparation, careful planning and attention to detail that had been evident in the classroom in Belvedere characterised his classes in the lecture rooms in Milltown. And also that same personal interest in the students. He had a clear sense of where each one was at in their learning and wanted to help them to move to the next stage. He found joy in seeing the students making progress.

As well as care for the students, he also showed care for his colleagues on the faculty. This was especially the case in his years as Rector of the Ecclesiastical Faculty and as Acting President. The community of teaching, research and learning in the Milltown Institute mattered greatly to him. He wanted to support colleagues. In recent days one of those colleagues commented on Finbarr's ability to show interest and give personal support, even when he did not himself agree with the line being taken. He would sometimes attend a talk where the position adopted would be different to the one he was known to hold. He would come up at the end, express appreciation and point out elements he had liked in the presentation. There was in him a tremendous loyalty to his colleagues and a capacity to remain friendly with people, even when he did not agree with their views. Echoes here of the Gospel words about “many rooms in my Father's house”.

The liturgy was always the centre of his life. I recall the lovely altar cloths he made in Belvedere in the 1980s, with different colours for the liturgical seasons, the purifiers and lavabo towels well laundered by his own hand, and the artistically created Advent wreaths. He knew that the visual helps us in our openness to the transcendent. His scientist's eye noticed things and gazed upon them. This was also reflected in how he would decorate the sanctuary for the Masses celebrated at the time of Institute conferring ceremonies.

Many of us will miss Finbarr's gifts as a homilist. His homilies consisted of well-crafted reflections, containing little gems from the Fathers. We heard them even on days when there was no designated celebrant and he ended up leading us, a clear indication that he prepared carefully for each day's Eucharist. The Lord had blessed him with a great sense of reverence, reverence for the holy mystery of God and for the things of God. That reverence was not just confined to chapel and sanctuary. Finbarr, while himself a fine scholar with two doctorates, was always at home in the company of people in ordinary situations. He loved helping out in parishes (in Clane in the past year and in many Dublin parishes in his years in Milltown). He found the Lord among the people in everyday life. He had a sense of our triune God nourishing him through them. He had great awareness of them as carriers of God's goodness.

He delighted in being able to make theology available to the people in parishes. He wanted these treasures opened up for them. One of my memories in recent years was his kindness in driving home the staff who had been working serving at dinners in Milltown. He was always ready to hop in the car and bring someone home, no matter how late the hour or how inclement the weather,
In the Gospel, Jesus speaks of himself as the way, the Truth and the Life. He is the way that leads to the Father. He is the Truth who sets us free. He is the Life that has overcome death. It was Finbarr's deepest desire to be a companion of this Jesus, to walk his way, to serve his truth, to share his life and carry on his mission. This he did as priest and Jesuit in library and classroom, in church and chapel, in caring for the garden and in looking after the details of administration.

In the past year, he was teaching in St Patrick's College Maynooth and in the Loyola Institute in Trinity College. I told him earlier that I was very happy that he was involved as a theologian in the training of the priests of tomorrow in the seminary and in teaching theology to lay students in a secular university,

Coming back to Clongowes in the past year was a homecoming. Clongowes had been the cradle of his Jesuit vocation. He loved the grounds. He also got involved as a theologian in the school, especially in preparing the students for the Sunday liturgies and in the liturgies themselves. There was also a homecoming in going back to teach in Trinity College, where he has been a botany student in the 1970s. And then there was the final homecoming of the early morning of 15th July, when he left us to return to the Lord, the Lord who had gone ahead himself and prepared a place reserved for him.

At the end of Mass, Finbarr's friend and colleague, Professor Emeritus D. Vincent Twomey SVD, paid a personal tribute from the viewpoint of a colleague in patristic studies. This is part of his address :

I got to know Fr Finbarr when he and his confrère, Fr Ray Moloney, joined the Maynooth Patristic Symposium in 1994, two years after Finbart had completed his DPhil in Oxford. He was teaching at the time in Milltown. Later I invited him to teach the seminarians in Maynooth. His first paper to the symposium was an introduction to his thesis on St Augustine's understanding of Church. Over the course of the following twenty-one years, he never missed a meeting and delivered several scholarly papers either at the ordinary meetings of the symposium during each academic year or at our triennial international conferences.

What strikes me is how his earlier life-experiences all coloured his scholarship and enabled him to discover treasures that others had failed to notice. His training as a scientist enriched the way he researched his topics and the care he took in his presentation. His erudition, which he wore lightly, was evident in all he wrote. He was familiar not only with Scripture and with the Greek and Latin thinkers, pagan and Christian, who formed Western civilization, but also the Syriac and the early Irish Christian writers, who are often neglected. And he could illuminate one or other point with a reference to some literary classic. Typical was a paper he wrote for the last Maynooth International Patristic Conference in 2012 on The pearl of great beauty and the mysteries of the faith'. Patristic studies, to which Fr Finbarr devoted all his free time, when he was not involved in teaching or administration in Milltown, is not concerned with what is passé, but with what is ever new. The excitement of discovering such pearls, such richness, expressed itself in Fr Finbarr's teaching, when he offered his students the results of his own labour of love. He was a born teacher. His students loved him. One former seminarian wrote to me on hearing of his untimely death: he was a gentleman both in his lectures and outside them - and he never forgot his students.

His life-long concern for the poor and marginalized was reflected in a major paper on the Cappadocian Fathers, who are generally studied primarily for their profound theology of the Holy Trinity. By way of contrast, Fr Finbarr highlighted their care for the poor. His last public lecture, on 5 May in Maynooth under the auspices of the St John Paul II Theological Society, was, fittingly, devoted to the topic: “St John Chrysostom on Care for the Poor”. His love of gardening, which he inherited from his father, and his interest in botany can be seen in the quite extraordinarily rich paper read at the International Conference held in conjunction with Queen's University, Belfast and devoted to the topic of Salvation. Fr Finbarr spoke on “Christ the scented apple and the fragrance of the world's salvation: a theme in St Ambrose's Commentary on Ps 118”. In his paper, he showed how, in contrast with the fruit from the tree of life in the garden of Eden, good to eat and pleasing to the eye but bringing death and decay, Ambrose “teaches that the story of salvation concerns the gracious invitation to inhale the fragrance of the world's redemption emanating from the scented apple, Christ, the fruit that hangs on the cross, the tree of life”. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps 33:9).

Perhaps his most spiritually inspiring paper was that read to the Oxford Patristic Conference commemorating the outbreak of Diocletian's so-called Great Persecution in AD 303. It was entitled: "The mind of the persecuted: “Imitating the Mysteries you celebrate”. Here his own priestly spirituality found eloquent expression as he showed how martyrdom - bearing witness to Christ, even to the point of death - was not only made possible by sharing in the Sacrifice of Christ on the altar but that the martyrs themselves were existential realizations of the mystery of the Eucharist.

The liturgy was Fr Finbarr's passion. At the end of April last, he invited me to join in the Clongowes liturgy, involving some 450 pupils and some fifty parents in the new Sports Hall, which. I gathered later, bore the distinct imprint of his own theology and aesthetics. It was quite magnificent. He told me, not without a sense of justified pride and genuine pleasure, that he and his colleague and friend Mr Cyril Murphy, Director of Liturgy in Clongowes, gave weekly talks on the liturgy to as many as 100 students each Thursday from 9.00 to 10.00 and that, what's more, the students seemed to enjoy them. They too will greatly miss him.

The Eucharist was at the heart of Fr Finbarr's life and theology, as it was for his first scholarly love, St Augustine, because it is at the heart of the Church. Likewise, as a Companion of Jesus, Scripture was his deepest inspiration, which he read through the eyes of the Church Fathers. He once gave a paper on the apt topic: "Tasting the food and the inebriating cup of Scriptures: a heme in St Ambrose's Psalm Commentaries'.

When Fr Finbarr hosted a special meeting of the Maynooth Patristic Symposium in Clongowes on the 2 May last, he drew our attention to the motto of the school over the entrance: Aeterna non caduca. These sentiments, he informed us, were echoed by St Columbanus, as he himself would demonstrate that morning in his paper to the Symposium, in effect a trial-run for the Oxford Patristic Conference which he had hoped to attend in August. According to him, “Columbanus loved to contrast the transience of things temporal and earthly with the permanence of things eternal. The thirsting human soul, like a pilgrim in a desert land, longs to be dissolved and be with Christ. The reward of the soul's pilgrimage is the vision of things heavenly face to face!” I conclude with what seems a fitting quotation from St Columbanus's song De mundi transitu, which Fr Finbarr once quoted: Joyful after crossing Death:

They shall see their joyful King:
With him reigning they shall reign,
With him rejoicing they shall rejoice ...

May he rest in peace.

Crowe, Patrick J, 1925-2017, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/826
  • Person
  • 05 March 1925-04 July 2017

Born: 05 March 1925, Edenderry, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1943, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1957, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1961, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died 04 July 2017, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Clongowes Wood College, Naas, County Kildare community at the time of death.

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1977 at St Ignatius College Prep San Francisco CA, USA (CAL) Sabbatical

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/paddy-crowe-sj-a-quality-educator/

Paddy Crowe SJ – a quality educator
Paddy Crowe SJ died peacefully on Tuesday morning, 4 July, in the wonderful care, love and compassion of the staff at Cherryfield Lodge Nursing Home, Milltown Park, Dublin 6. At his funeral mass in Milltown Park Chapel on 6 July, former community member and friend Bruce Bradley SJ gave the homily. He was buried in the Community Cemetery in Clongowes, Clane, Co. Kildare.

Born on 5 March 1925 in Edenderry, Co Offaly, Paddy was the oldest boy in a large family. He was educated at Clongowes Wood College SJ in Co Kildare before entering the Society of Jesus in 1943. Early on, it was thought he would make a good professor of philosophy, but he had a more active interest in schools. He soon found himself working in education under various roles. At Clongowes Wood College SJ, for example, he became teacher, prefect, rector, and eventually headmaster.

He served as Director of Education Policy and Education Delegate for the Irish Province and worked at several other schools, including Crescent College SJ and Mungret College SJ in Co Limerick, and Belvedere College SJ, Gonzaga College SJ, and Greendale School in Dublin. Referring to his personality, Fr Bradley said: “He was an extrovert and had such a sense of humour. He was bravely adventurous, who loved to travel, have new experiences and make new friends”.

“Educational value,” Paddy said once, “is based largely on personal contact of good people with the young.” Fr Bradley, who worked with him for many years, noted: “In all the schools where he served, he was demanding and firm, but fair. He lived in the continual tension between the old and the new, always reading, questioning, and seeking to move on”.
One of his former students commented: “You always knew where you stood with Fr Crowe”.

Paddy was consultant to Fényi Gyula Jesuit High School, the only Jesuit school in Hungary, founded in 1994. He was heavily involved in the University of Scranton (USA) Scholarship Scheme, which led in time to his honorary doctorate in education, of which he was justly proud.

Later from 1998 to 2009, he returned to Clongowes where he lived among his Jesuit community; acted as spiritual father for students; assisted in a local parish and ministered to the Holy Family Sisters. His mind remained very alert as his physical health deteriorated. As one friend said of him: “He was a great man to have a conversation with but a terrible man to play scrabble with”. He also retained a great interest in computers and loved using up-to-date devices.

His passing is deeply regretted by his family, Jesuit companions, friends, former colleagues and his many students, some of whom posted warm tributes on Facebook. Fr Bradley concluded: “As Paddy arrives at last at the father’s house, we can rejoice with him and for him. Paddy, go without fear. Amen”.

Early Education at Edenderry NS; Knockbeg College, Carlow; Clongowes Wood College SJ

1945-1948 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1948-1951 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1951-1953 Crescent College SJ, Limerick - Regency : Teacher
1953-1954 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Regency : Teacher; Third Line Prefect; Studying for CWC Cert in Education
1954-1958 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1958-1959 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1959-1960 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Lower Line Prefect; Teacher
1960-1965 Mungret College SJ - Prefect of Studies; Teacher
1965-1976 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Prefect of Studies; Teacher
1968 Rector
1971 Headmaster
1976-1977 St Ignatius Prep. San Francisco, CA, USA - Sabbatical
1977-1978 Loyola House - Province Special Secretariat
1978-1979 University Hall - Vice Superior; Province Special Secretariat; Director Province Education Policy
1979-1984 Belvedere College SJ - Working in Education; Director Province Education Policy
1980 Headmaster; Teacher; Education Delegate; Colloquium
1984-1987 Campion House - Education Delegate; Director Colloquium
1985 Manager Gonzaga College SJ; Chair Board Gonzaga College SJ; Vice-Superior
1987-1992 Loyola House - Superior; Education Delegate; Director Colloquium
1990 Central Province Admin; Asst Education Delegate; Chair Board Gonzaga College SJ
1992-1995 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Rector; Provincial Team
1995-1998 Belvedere College SJ - Principal of Junior School
1997 Chair Board Cherryfield Lodge
1998 - 2017 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Assists in Clane Parish of St Patrick & St Brigid
1999 Chair Board of Greendale School, Kilbarrack, Dublin
2001 Spiritual Father to Third Line
2006 Ministry to Holy Family Sisters, Clane, Co Kildare
2009 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

◆ The Clongownian, 1977

Appreciation

Father Patrick Crowe SJ

It is doubtful if anyone has had such a varied experience of responsibility in Clongowes as Fr Crowe, our first Headmaster, who left us last summer. He was Third Line Prefect 1953-54, Lower Line Prefect '59-60, Prefect of Studies '65-68, Rector '68-71 and finally Headmaster from '71 to '76. For eleven years, then, his office, if not regal, was at least consular in the Roman sense: he was one of two holding “imperium” in our little state. Anyone in a position to make a “before-and-after” assessment of that period in Clongowes must agree that the many changes which took place have amounted to a transformation. These range from unlocked notice-boards and study. halls to new buildings, from boys distributing their own letters to voluntary Mass on week-days, from entrance exams to self-service in the refectory, from a catering committee to a School Council, from monthly breaks to women teachers, from an integrated staff lunch to a stand-by generator, from cups for tennis, choir and orchestra to work for the poor and aged of the district and the handicapped children in Stewart's hospital, from masters' classrooms to parents' meetings, from social evenings to an O Level year, from boys telephones to a crowded programme of holiday engagements in the college. The degree of Fr Paddy's involvement in these changes varied, of course, from agonising personal decision to mere encouragement of other people's energy and initiative. But the work of any man in government or administration is judged, for credit or condemnation, by what actually took place during his term of office. By that test our first Headmaster when he comes back to visit Clongowes - which we hope he will do very often - will be able, with all the confidence and gratification of Christopher Wren in St Paul's, to look around and see everywhere monuments to his vision and efficiency. His devotedness to visiting the sick and attending funerals will endure in the grateful memory of very many parents and past pupils, the community and teaching staff, and all whom, in a favourite phrase, he liked to call the “Clongowes family”.

◆ The Clongownian, 2017

Obituary

Father Paddy Crowe SJ : A Quality Educator

Fr Paddy Crowe SJ died peacefully on Tuesday morning, 4th July, 2017 in the wonderful care, love and compassion of the staff at Cherryfield Lodge Nursing Home, Milltown Park, Dublin 6 and was buried in the Community Cemetery in Clongowes, Clane, Co. Kildare. Paddy spent much of his life in Clongowes, first as a pupil and then as teacher, prefect, rector as well as being the first headmaster. At his funeral mass in Milltown Park Chapel on 6th July, former community member and friend Bruce Bradley SJ gave the homily

Herbert McCabe, the English Dominican theologian of Irish descent and a near contemporary of Paddy's, wrote in his book, “Faith Within Reason”, published posthumously in 2007: “The whole of our faith is the belief that God loves us; [...] there just isn't anything else. Anything else we say we believe is just a way of saying that God loves us”. And the corollary of that is that everything we hear in Scripture is the message of God's love. The whole of salvation history, the account of God's interaction with us from the beginning of time, through different epochs, across diverse cultures, expressed in a variety of human literary forms and devices, all of that history recorded in the complex collection we call 'the Bible', carries the same message, finally summarised in St John's heartbreakingly simple phrase of just three words at the end of the New Testament: “God is love”.

Herbert McCabe's fellow-Dominican, the great Flemish theologian Edward Schillebeeckx, prefaced his book on the Church with a memorable anonymous quotation: “People are the words with which God tells his story”. In the Word of God we read at a funeral, we seek to cast light on the human life we are celebrating and to discern the working out of God's love in that life. It's not difficult to see that the leit-motif of Paddy Crowe's story, the leading theme, was education. On one occasion, speaking in this instance about Clongowes - but the remark has much wider application when referred to himself - Paddy said: “We think Clongowes is a good school and to it we are willing to give our time, our energy. our humanity, our lives”. Education, the eliciting of potential and the nurturing of gifts and talents in young lives, is, properly understood, above all a work of creative love. And that is the work to which Paddy gave himself, directly or indirectly, for much of his long, dedicated life.

Clongowes, of course, where he went after the local national school and a period in Knockbeg, looms large in his story. The oldest boy in a large family from Edenderry, to which he remained always attached, he was there as a student in the war years from 1938 to 1943. The records - as is often the case - hardly presage the distinguished career in education that lay ahead of him, although he was clearly an able first division student and produced excellent Leaving Certificate results. He was a prominent and able debater from the beginning and in his second year - perhaps a little harder to imagine but accurately reflecting the interest he always had in music - he was praised for his portrayal of the shy and petite Germaine in the comic opera “Les Cloches de Corneille!”

His keen, enquiring intellect
Having joined the Jesuits straight from school, in the course of his formation he was at one stage envisaged as a future professor of philosophy. That points to his keen, enquiring intellect but it was almost certainly a misreading of his temperamental inclinations and he was destined to more active work in schools for almost all of his life. He served as Third Line Prefect in Clongowes from 1953 to 1954, as Lower Line Prefect from 1959-60, as Prefect of Studies from 1965 to 1968, as Rector in the old days of the Rector Magnificus from 1968 to 1971, as Headmaster from 1971 to 1976, as Rector again from 1992 to 1995 (though by then, as he discovered somewhat to his disappointment, with headmasters now in place to lead the school the role had gone down a bit), and, finally, for the years from 1998 to 2009, as a member of the community and carrying out some duties inside and outside the school, but without the burdens of office which he had carried for so long and at a time when his health was beginning to decline.

“But Clongowes was far from the whole story. Apart from the valuable work he did in other Jesuit schools in Ireland - the Crescent in Limerick; Mungret, where he was Prefect of Studies for five years before moving to the same role in Clongowes; Belvedere, where he served as Headmaster for four years at the beginning of the eighties, after his long stint in Clongowes, and later as Principal of the Junior School in the mid nineties; and Gonzaga, where he was manager for a time - he was also Education Delegate to the Provincial in the 1980s, giving him oversight of all the schools and those who worked in them. In addition, he was heavily involved in these years in promoting what was known as the Colloquium, which brought Jesuit and lay teachers together to talk about their shared aspirations - the kind of dialogue he had come to believe in more and more. It partly explains, too, his great interest in psychology. And I have not mentioned the many organisations and projects and committees beyond the Jesuit sphere to which he made substantial contributions, often in leadership roles, to promote an educational vision and foster its practical application to the actual life of classrooms; or his chairing of the board in Greendale Community School in north Dublin for several years from 1999; or his heavy involvement in the Scranton University scholarship scheme, which led in time to an honorary doctorate in education, of which he was justly proud; and so on. And that list, long as it is, is not exhaustive.

Paddy thought a lot about education and, over his time of leadership in Clongowes, he delivered reflective, well-crafted addresses at the annual past pupils' dinner, expounding his own developing understanding and the need for change. One such speech even made the front page of The Sunday Press! His first administrative appointment was to Mungret in 1960 and he would remain in school leadership continuously until 1976, almost two decades, which finally left him exhausted. This was a period of huge change in ireland and further afield. Paddy was keenly aware of such change and worked hard, reading and consulting widely, to keep abreast of it. in his speech to the Clongowes Union, in the autumn of 1969. he made what must have been one of the earliest references to computers in such a context - computers, as we know, would prove a lifelong passion and his room in Cherryfield became something of a computer graveyard, as latest model succeeded latest model in the relatively confined space, all identified and ordered on-line by Paddy himself! In that speech he also spoke, in the same sentence, of the government's pivotal Investment in Education report and the all-important decree of the Second Vatican Council, Gaudium et Spes, 'The Church in the Modern World'. The introduction of free education in Ireland, followed by the points system, gradually transformed the system here, asking new questions of Clongowes and all the Jesuit schools. The Church's role in education, as has become so familiar to us now, was beginning to be called into question. Les évènements in Paris in 1968 took place as he was making the transition from Prefect of Studies, in which he had been, in the words of “The Clongownian”, “the architect of aggiornamento”, to the heavier responsibilities of Headmaster.

Personal contact of good people
“Educational value”, he said once, “is based largely on personal contact of good people with the young”. Paddy himself was one such good person and he sought this kind of contact to the extent that he could. Over time, his direct manner, which could be intimidating, softened considerably. In all the schools where he served, he was demanding and firm but fair. One former student was quoted as saying that you always knew where you stood with him. He was never afraid to confront but colleagues and parents found him accessible and often became his good friends. A notable part of his legacy in Clongowes was the effective abolition of corporal punishment, which took full effect after he left. In Belvedere he put an end to streaming just before he completed his term, a no less important change for the atmosphere and culture of a school. Schools, boarding schools especially perhaps, have a tendency to be somewhat conservative places and Paddy was well aware that his modernising policies were the subject of criticism inside and outside the school. He confronted the challenge directly at the Clongowes Union Dinner in 1974. “Meeting many of the older men here”, he said, “sets me thinking of all the things that have changed”. Having listed some of the changes, he asked: “How did it happen? If you like simple answers to complex questions, take your choice: ‘they’ have gone permissive, soft, have no backbone, will not stand out against the rot... As we see it, things began to happen, matters were forced on our attention - we began to listen to others, began to accept an enormously changed world, began to reflect more on what we were trying to do and what in fact we were doing. The Catholic school could easily become a place of comfortable conformity, he had said a year earlier.... Priests and religious do not wish to stay in their schools for this ... We are at the end of Phase | Catholic Education in Ireland. The response of 1814 does not answer the needs of 1973”.

He ended one of his addresses by quoting the inspirational Jesuit General of the time, Father Pedro Arrupe, whose “Men for Others” address in Valencia would soon make its impact on all Jesuit schools: “If our schools are to perform as they should, they will live in continual tension between the old and the new, the comfortable past and the uneasy present”. Paddy, destined to lead schools in a period of extraordinary change, always wanted them to live in that way. That was where he tried to live himself, always reading and questioning and seeking to move on.

Bravely adventurous There is so much more to be said but time does not allow and, despite what you might think, this is not, in the end, intended to be a lecture on the educational career of Paddy Crowe or a mere personal eulogy. Through these - often lonely and taxing - endeavours (and he could get down and discouraged), Paddy was working out his vocation, responding to God's call, telling God's story through his own life. In this very inadequate sketch, I have stressed the educational component and the richness of what he achieved, for particular reasons. From our present vantage-point, Paddy's life easily seems to fall into what we might almost think of as two “halves”. There have been more recently what seem - and certainly seemed to him - like the long years of decline, which weighed so heavily on him, despite the devotion - and even, we have to say, the forebearance! - of Mary Rickard and Rachel McNeill and the staff who cared for him in Cherryfield, since he went there actually less than a decade ago. Even before that, in his last years in Clongowes, as the extrovert that he was, with such an appetite for life and involvement and activity, as a man who was so bravely adventurous and loved to travel and have new experiences and make new friends, as a man used to being in authority and exercising influence and in control, he felt himself”'beached” and on the sidelines and found this very painful. Who knows what heroism he practised, behind the mask of failing powers and old age, as he went, increasingly and inscrutably silent, through all this? And so it is appropriate to correct the balance and beware of forgetting his achievements in the many earlier decades of his life. That's my first reason for laying such emphasis on them now, as the trajectory of that life comes more clearly into focus.

The second reason for thinking about those achievements, which perhaps brings us closer to what Paddy's inner experience was like, is that I think he did not always believe in all the good he had accomplished himself. And, for all his extroversion and his capacity to encourage others and promote development around him, there was a depressive side which showed at times and he was prone to self-doubt or at least to doubt the extent to which his efforts were appreciated by others. For him, on a superficial level at least, the measure of success - and perhaps of approval - was always further worthwhile employment. And when, in the judgment of others though not his own, he was past that, he found it harder to cope.

I began by quoting Herbert McCabe and I want to end with him. Paddy, full of humanity, longed for acceptance and emotional connection with others. In him I sensed that the emotion was often masked behind the brusque, direct, sometimes even abrasive manner. He was hardly aware of this or the degree to which it conditioned some of the responses he evoked in others. I think, to the extent that I knew this or have any right now to make such a surmise (and we lived and worked together in a variety of capacities over many years), in some measure it affected his spirituality and his search for a closer felt relationship with God. The uncertainty of the prodigal son in the parable in Luke's gospel at the reception he might expect from his father when he returned home, the journey on which we are all embarked, sometimes, judging by what he would say himself, seemed to infect Paddy's efforts to pray and to find rest in prayer. Herbert McCabe, interpreting that wonderful, utterly seminal parable in his posthumous book earlier referred to understands the essence of the story of the prodigal not to be the father's forgiveness of the son, but the father's welcoming and celebrating the son's homecoming with a feast. The love shown in this by the father is, for McCabe, analogous to God's love for us, sinners that we are. “His love”, he writes, “does not depend on what we do or what we are like. He doesn't care whether we are sinners or not. It makes no difference to him. He is just waiting to welcome us with joy and love”. As Paddy arrives at last at the Father's house and the banquet of which Isaiah writes so eloquently (Paddy would appreciate that!), the good fight finished (and he was always a fighter) and his race run, we can rejoice with him and for him that he knows the truth of the parable of the returned prodigal and the heavenly Father's welcome now. Now he can say with the psalmist that, through all his endeavours and all his struggles, “I was always in your presence; you were holding me by your right hand” (Psalm 73 1721,23). In the words Pope Francis, a man after Paddy Crowe's heart, likes to use for such a moment, we say to him: “Paddy, avanti senza paura! Go without fear! Amen”.

Dargan, Joseph, 1933-2014, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/847
  • Person
  • 21 January 1933-01 June 2014

Born: 21 January 1933, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 24 May 1964, Clongowes Wood College SJ, County Kildare
Final Vows: 02 February 1968, Catholic Workers College, Dublin
Died: 01 June 2014, Blackrock Clinic, Dublin

Part of the Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin community at the time of death.

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

Father Provincial of the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus : 01 September 1980-1986

by 2003 at Mwangaza Nairobi, Kenya (AOR) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/joe-dargan-vision-and-task/

Joe Dargan: vision and task

It is rare for us to mourn such a servant of the Irish Jesuits as Joe Dargan. His looks were unremarkable: small, bespectacled, usually smiling. He was sturdy, a wing forward on Clongowes cup teams. His friends would describe Joe’s style of rugby as robust. It showed the steely determination hidden under a mild façade.

Wherever he went, he was landed with responsibility: starting with Third Line Prefect in Clongowes (he commented ”In 1958 when I volunteered to go to Zambia, I was told that my Zambia was to be Third Line prefect in Clongowes.”). He went on to be Director of the Province Social Survey, Rector of Emo, of Manresa (twice), of Clongowes, of Gonzaga, and of Belvedere. He was Master of Novices, Instructor of Tertians, Pastoral planning Consultant to the Irish Bishops, and also to the Major Religious Superiors (CMRS), director of the Manresa Centre of Spirituality, Socius to the Provincial, and Provincial. They never made him General, though it’s said that they thought of thrusting a bishopric on him.

You’d imagine that a man with such a gift for administration might be a nerdy type, with rows of secretaries ticking boxes for him. Joe was indeed a methodical man, who consulted wisely, prayed before making decisions, and stayed on the job till it was complete. For instance, he not merely designed the tertianship house in Manresa, but visited the site every day, made friends with the workmen, and so created a beautiful, functional building.

When, as rector of Belvedere, he had to raise funds for a school building, he showed his ability to balance the short-term and the long-term issues. As he put it to groups which he addressed: “A vision without a task is but a dream. A task without a vision is drudgery. A vision with a task is the hope for the future.” Parents were constantly reminded that education was the greatest gift they could leave to their children. With this vision before them, Joe and his collaborators worked on a 30-year plan. Part of the process entailed winning over all the constituents of the college: the Jesuit community, boys, teachers past and present, and past pupils. The target was four million pounds, and Belvedere passed it. If it has received generously, it also gives generously. Between their various projects Belvedere boys raise about a quarter of a million euro annually for charity. It is that vision of men for others, rather than lists of figures, that made these years a stimulating time for Joe Dargan rather than a begging bowl nightmare.

What people remember of Joe, however, is not so much his administrative ability as his kindness, and his readiness to give his time lavishly. He was every inch a priest, with a special gift for being with those in their last illness. It was probably this ease in his priestly role, coupled with his passion for sport, that underlay his friendship with Alex Ferguson of Manchester United.

When he was told some very few months ago that his illness was terminal, Joe was immediately filled with consolation and gratitude for the key people in his life – those he had met and loved, in his family, in the Society, in those extraordinarily rich friendships that he so enjoyed with such beloved friends, male andfemale. As the doctor actually spoke to him, those people’s names and images passed before his inner eye and he was filled with joy and gratitude. Most of us would have sunk at such a moment: not Joe, because the gratitude was to God and to those who were God’s hands and eyes and ears for him in this life.

A friend remarked that Joe was the most extraordinary of ordinary men, unthreatening, affable, and open to the Lord, who achieved great things through him.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 157 : Autumn 2014

Obituary

Fr Joe Dargan (1933-2014)

21 January 1933: Bom in Dublin.
Early education at Dominican Convent, Eccles Street, Dublin, Belvedere, Rockwell College and Clongowes Wood College
7 September 1950: Entered the Society at Emo
8 September 1952 First Vows at Emo
1952 - 1955: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1955 - 1958: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1958 - 1961: Clongowes – Third Line Prefect: Teacher
1961 - 1965: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
24 May 1964: Ordained at Clongowes Wood College
1965 - 1966: Rathfarnham – Tertianship
1966 - 1968: CIR – Director of Province Social Survey
2nd February 1968: Final Vows at CIR
1968 - 1969: Emo - Rector & Master of Novices
1969 - 1974: Manresa House – Rector and Master of Novices
1974 - 1977: Manresa - Rector; Director Centre of Spirituality
1977 - 1979: Clongowes - Rector; Asst. Provincial (visitor)
1979 - 1980: Socius to Provincial
1980 - 1986: Loyola House - Provincial
1986 - 1987: Loyola House - Sabbatical, assisted CMRS
1987 - 1993: Gonzaga - Rector & CMRS General Secretary
1993 - 2002: Belvedere - Rector; Consultant to Bishops on Pastoral Planning; Belvedere – Rector; Consultant to Bishops on Pastoral Planning (until 1997) Chair of Boards of Management of Manresa and Belvedere College.
2005 - 2014: Manresa – Vice-Rector; Tertian Director
2006 - 2012: Manresa Rector; Tertian Director
2012 - 2014: Vice-Rector and Tertian Director

Joe was not feeling well for some weeks and went into the Blackrock Clinic on March 23rd. Tests revealed extensive cancer. He accepted the results and the prognosis with grace and faith, continuing to reach out to people over the following weeks. There was a gradual decline in his condition and he died peacefully on Ascension Sunday morning. May he rest in the Peace of Christ

Since Fr Joseph Dargan, or just Joe (as I came to know him), passed away on the day we celebrated the Feast of the Ascension, he has been pointing not to himself but to the God he loved. In the manner of his dying, down to the very timing, and at his funeral, he was asking us to grapple with the question in the first reading at the funeral Mass from Deutero-Isaiah: “Look, I am doing something new, now it emerges: can you not see it?” He was inviting us to listen to the message of hope and encouraging us to live out of that hope. The words of St. Patrick's Breastplate have been reverberating in my mind these past days:

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me.

These words represent the key to understanding what Joe desired, and the reality to which he pointed in all his interactions with us, when talking of God or mammon (in the form of Manchester United) - and everything in between.

The American Poet, Mary Oliver, in Honey Locust, describes a tree, native to North America, in blossom and the bees seeking the nectar:

The bees circle the tree and dive into it.
They are crazy with gratitude,
They are working like farmers.
They are as happy as saints.

I am going to frame my words around these lines.

The bees circle the tree and dive into it
This is the disposition that Fr. Joe brought to everything he did. He engaged fully. He dived into life, in whatever circumstances: in Manresa, in the then CMRS, in Gonzaga, Clongowes and Belvedere, in Mwangaza, in Loyola. And in whatever role, from Provincial to spiritual director, from Chair of the Board to lover of family, and so on.

And how he loved bis family: while I name only his brother Michael (or Mick) and his beloved sister Mairéad, they stand for all the family, those who have gone before Joe, those here present including the 18 nieces and grandnieces - not forgetting the nephews, including Joe the younger. He also enjoyed the deepest of friendships. And I have often thought that his great gift of being able to relate with women was modelled on the way that Jesus himself related to women in the Gospels, Joe engaged with all persons in the fullest way possible.

The bees are crazy with gratitude
Joe had almost zero concern for the material things of this world. As a. novice, I remember a fellow novice speculating one day that he thought that Joe had only one pair of shoes: in fact, watching thereafter, we never saw him in other than that one sturdy, black pair. That's not to deny that he didn't enjoy being able to stream the big football game - say Man U at home to Liverpool this season! But when challenged about such a worldly use of the computer, Joe would say simply, that the computer is merely an apostolic aid!' He was truly indifferent to worldly possessions. Given that significant business people who came to know him well, even to depend on him in some measure, would say that had Joe chosen a different path, that he would undoubtedly have been a very successful businessperson, we might ask ourselves, what is the source of his indifference to worldly goods?

The answer in significant part lies in the reading from Deutero Isaiah. Like the exiled Jewish people in Babylonia, so Joe needed to hear - and did hear at the deepest level of his being - those words from God through the prophet:

“I regard you as precious, since you are honoured and I love you. Do not be afraid for I have redeemed you. No need to remember past events. Look, I am doing something new, now it emerges: can you not see it?”

These words were heard as being addressed to him - and to each of us! It intrigued Joe that the reading ends with a big question: “Can you, can we, not see it?” In the Ascension, God did something new with Jesus and it emerges that there is hope and that hope is grounded in the death, resurrection and ascension of the Son of God. And, in his dying on the Feast of the Ascension, God did something new in Joseph. Can you not see it?

Out of this was born the person that Joe became: a most grateful person.

When he was told some very few months ago that his illness was terminal, Joe was immediately filled with consolation and gratitude for the key people in his life - those he had met and loved, in his family, in the Society, in those extraordinarily rich friendships that he so enjoyed with such beloved friends, male and female. As the doctor actually spoke to him, those people's names and images passed before his inner eye and he was filled with joy and gratitude.

Most of us would have sunk at such a moment: not Joe, because the gratitude was to God and to those who were God's hands and eyes and ears for him in this life.

But, to be clear, Joe was not like a plastic or alabaster statue. As a young Jesuit student in Rathfarnham and Tullabeg and Milltown, he would come from his room, football boots in his hands, pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament on the way to the pitch, pray intensely out of gratitude to God - and then go out on the pitch and hack down anyone who dared to try and pass him, leaving his opponent sprawling on the ground, with Joe standing over him, full of concern!

And in the spirit of consolation that sustained him in recent weeks, on being visited by Mr. Gerard Foley, currently headmaster of Belvedere, Joe's mischievous sense of humour enabled him to whisper, Thank God you came in to Belvedere when you did: that other fellow left an awful mess!'

Gratitude and grace - the latter understood as relationship with God - and consolation - but never without bite, never without humour!

The bees around the honey locust are working like farmers
Out of that spirit of gratitude, I suspect that unlike most of us, Joe wasted very few moments during his 81+ years. He gave his all to every project and to every person: in his presence, one never felt that Joe had to be elsewhere - you got his undivided attention.

From sticking faithfully to a physiotherapist's instructions, to thorough engagement with the Irish Province social survey in response to Vatican II back in the 1960's, to the meticulous attention to detail in the planning document, Our Mission in Ireland drawn up during his time as Provincial - strategic planning was a prominent feature of every work that he engaged in, not least with the CMRS - down to the legacy that is the tertianship today, co-created with his Dutch colleague Fr. Jan van de Poll - in all of that, the focus was always on the mission, to bring the love of Christ to the other.

Who knows how many lives he saved - I mean that in the deepest sense - through his love-enriched, Christ-focused interaction with so many people, bom of the Spiritual Exercises, of his love of the poor - witness his work in Africa, his work on the bursary programme in Belvedere, his reception of the orphans from Africa every summer - and of his love of the Church?

In the Letter to the Ephesians, read like Deutero-Isaiah at his funeral, St Paul prays for his “hidden self to grow strong”. Richard Rohr says somewhere that “the True Self is that part of you who knows who you are and whose you are, although largely unconsciously. Your False Self is just who you think you are - but thinking doesn't make it so”. Throughout his life, Joe took the risk of going deeper, below the ego, to discern “who and whose” we are. Joe lived the self-reflective prayer of Ignatius known as the Examen. He truly devoted himself to prayer and reflection. And so his “hidden self” grew out of and into God, into Jesus Christ, enriched greatly through his love of Mary, the Mother of God, and of the Church, and of the Society of Jesus.

Everything he did was to try to get us on the same path, knowing it was the way to genuine inner peace and contentment for each of us. In the prayerful words of the late Pedro Arrupe S), former General of the Society:

Grant me, O Lord, to see everything with new eyes,
To discern and test the spirits
That help me read the signs of the times,
To relish the things that are yours
and to communicate them to others.
Give me the clarity of understanding that you gave Ignatius'.

This became Joe's own prayer.

In a wonderful little piece, Leonard Cohen asks, “what is a saint?”:

A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility. It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos....but he is at home in the world. He can love the shapes of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have amongst us such (persons), such balancing monsters of love.

Joe was just such a person, filled with the energy of love and with that balance. He knew, of course, that it is in Christ that an ever deeper hope resides.

But this is not to go back to the alabaster statue. A Jesuit friend and I went out to dinner one night, in a restaurant very close to Manresa. (I remember it well because I paid!) This mutual friend put a little idea into our heads: why not call in to visit Joe on the way home, but not tell him why we were there together, leaving him with the impression that the Provincial had given us a very important task, on behalf of the Province, which we were not free to talk about! We didn't have to travel far into Manresa: there was Joe walking the upper path, rosary beads in hand. At every opportunity, for months after, indeed for the past couple of years, Joe never missed an opportunity to try to find out what was going on. He was innately curious. He loved to know what was going on.

A Board colleague of the time reminded me of a Board meeting in Belvedere in the days when Belvedere was well run!) when, as headmaster, I conveyed some information about an issue to do with rugby (of all things!). Joe, sitting next to me, rounded on me and asked if I was informing the Board of this matter or asking their opinion. A bit perplexed, I - allegedly - floundered and said I supposed I was informing the Board. Joe's two hands stretched out, in a familiar gesture of his and said: “Fine, fine, that's fine - because if you were asking us, I wouldn't agree with you!” Saintly, but as cute as a fox, wise as the serpent, simple as the dove.

Like his fellow Jesuits, he knew himself to be a sinner yet loved by Jesus: on his sick-bed he acknowledged that he had made mistakes in his life, but that these were forgotten and forgiven.

Those bees are as happy as saints
The integrity, the consistency of the spoken word and gesture, and the manner of his dying, confirm for us that Joe meant what he said, and said what he meant.

He understood himself and each one of us to be a new creation, and that in life and in death we give witness to the Resurrection. All this in faith and in hope. He made as his own Pedro Arrupe's prayer in his own illness:

Now more than ever I find myself in the hands of God.
This is what I have wanted all my life from my youth.
But now there is a difference:
The initiative is entirely with God.
It is indeed a profound spiritual experience
To know and feel myself so totally in God's hands!

In recent times, Joe was unable to celebrate Mass: a Sister friend suggested to me the other evening that this was his time to be, like Pierre Teillhard de Chardin SJ, offering his “Mass on the world”. Once, when in China, Teillhard had no bread or wine with which to celebrate Mass. He expressed his deep love for the Eucharist in his essay of that name, which begins:

Since once again, Lord .... I have neither bread nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself beyond these symbols, up to the pure majesty of the real itself; I, your priest, will make the whole earth my altar and it will offer you all the labours and sufferings of the world.

Joe chose the funeral Mass reading from Matthew's Gospel because the words, “This is My body - this is My blood”, were the centre-piece of his vocation. These, he said as he faced death, are the most important words to say at that hour.

In the final lines of Honey Locust, Mary Oliver writes:

So it is if the heart has devoted itself to love,
There is not a single inch of emptiness.
Gladness gleams all the way to the grave.

A fitting epitaph for Joe, as God in him and throughout his life, says to us: “Look, I am doing something new, now it emerges: can you not see it?!”

Leonard Moloney

Joe Dargan: Three Memories

Brendan Staunton

First memory:
During my first year theology in Milltown, Joe asked me to come to Manresa on Sunday mornings and introduce the novices to literature. So I'd cross the city on my Honda 50, with Saul Bellow, Ayn Rand, James Joyce and Co., in tow. The rhetoric of fiction was closer to my existential concerns than the theological questions we were being fed. In fact, the fare was all answers to issues and battles fought long before our time. So the answers were stale. The waves of Vatican Two were approaching, however, onto Irish shores, and Milltown, broadly speaking, was receptive and open to the experiential and empirical. So Joe's invitation was a Godsend, and at the end of our two-hour sessions he would hand me a ten pound note, saying “that's for petrol”! (Less than two would fill the tank!)

Second Memory:
I'm about to go on Tertianship. Joe calls. He had been at a function in The Red House, where Dermot Ryan had complained about all the Religious going abroad to be trained for formation work Particularly the USA. Joe, Head of CORI, told him he had someone at home now who had trained in London. So the idea of Loreto House was born, and I was asked to set it up and get it going with two Sisters. And the rest is history!

Third Memory:
We are in Rome for a month's Conference on the Spiritual Exercises, attended by 101 people, mostly Jesuits, but also other religious and lay collaborators from 40 countries. The approach is mostly academic: content orientated; lecture style; dense and heavy. Starting with Fr General, the lecturers were all stately, formal figures from the Greg. After three long mornings, Joe raised his hand, and asked a question. A huge burst of applause broke out! Only Joe would have got away with it, as there was no offense heard, but the feedback hit the nail on the head. The fact of his being a previous Provincial probably helped too, and the talks and afternoon sessions became more experiential and participative.

◆ The Clongownian, 2014

Obituary

Father Joe Dargan SJ

“Fr Joe Dargan SJ who died in June, had been ill for the previous three months” - writes the Headmaster, Fr Moloney. “Fr. Joe was at school in Clongowes, where he won a JCT medal and served as Captain of the College. He joined the Jesuits straight from school, returning as Third Line Prefect from 1958-61 and as Rector in the late 1970's before going on to be Provincial of the Irish Province (1980-'86). Until recently he was Tertian Master at Manresa House in Dublin. In his time he was also Master of Novices, Rector of Belvedere (1993-2002), spiritual director at the Jesuit Retreat House in Nairobi, and Director and Rector of Manresa Retreat House. He was a great person, accepting the results and prognosis of recent medical tests with grace and faith, continuing to reach out to people over the past few weeks, He died peacefully on Ascension Sunday morning”.

We print the following tribute to Fr Joe, Courtesy of Irish Jesuit News ...

Joe Dargan: vision and task

It is rare for us to mourn such a servant of the Irish Jesuits as Joe Dargan. His looks were unremarkable: small, bespectacled, and usually smiling. He was sturdy, a wing forward on Clongowes cup teams. His friends would describe Joe's style of rugby as robust. It showed the steely determination hidden under a mild façade.

Whereverhewent, he was landed with responsibility, starting with Third Line Prefect in Clongowes (he commented “In 1958 when I volunteered to go to Zambia, I was told that my Zambia was to be Third Line prefect in Clongowes”.). He went on to be Director of the Province Social Survey, Rector of Emo, of Manresa (twice), of Clongowes, of Gonzaga, and of Belvedere. He was Master of Novices, Instructor of Tertians, Pastoral Planning Consultant to the Irish Bishops, and also to the Major Religious Superiors (CMRS), director of the Manresa Centre of Spirituality, Socius to the Provincial, and Provincial. They never made him General, though it's said that they thought of thrusting a bishopric on him.

You'd imagine that a man with such a gift for administration might be a nerdy type, with rows of secretaries ticking boxes for him. Joe was indeed a methodical man, who consulted wisely, prayed before making decisions, and stayed on the job till it was complete. For instance, he not merely designed the tertianship house in Manresa, but visited the site every day, made friends with the workmen, and so created a beautiful, functional building.

When, as rector of Belvedere, he had to raise funds for a school building, he showed his ability to balance the short-term and the long-term issues. As he put it to groups, which he addressed: “A vision without a task is but a dream. A task without a vision is drudgery. A vision with a task is the hope for the future”. Parents were constantly reminded that education was the greatest gift they could leave to their children. With this vision before them, Joe and his collaborators worked on a 30-year plan. Part of the process entailed winning over all the constituents of the college: the Jesuit community, boys, teachers past and present, and past pupils. The target was four million pounds, and Belvedere passed it. If it has received generously, it also gives generously. Between their various projects Belvedere boys raise about a quarter of a million euro annually for charity. It is that vision of men for others, rather than lists of figures, that made these years a stimulating time for Joe Dargan rather than a begging bowl nightmare.

What people remember of Joe, however, is not so much his administrative ability as his kindness, and his readiness to give his time lavishly. He was every inch a priest, with a special gift for being with those in their last illness. It was probably this ease in his priestly role, coupled with his passion for sport that underlay his friendship with Alex Ferguson of Manchester United.

When he was told some very few months ago that his illness was terminal, Joe was immediately filled with consolation and gratitude for the key people in his life - those he had met and loved, in his family, in the Society, in those extraordinarily rich friendships that he so enjoyed with such beloved friends, male and female. As the doctor actually spoke to him, those people's names and images passed before his inner eye and he was filled with joy and gratitude. Most of us would have sunk at such a moment: not Joe, because the gratitude was to God and to those who were “God's hands and eyes and ears” for him in this life. A friend remarked that Joe was the most extraordinary of ordinary men, unthreatening, affable, and open to the Lord, who achieved great things through him..

PA

Delaney, Hubert, 1929-2001, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/557
  • Person
  • 24 October 1929-01 April 2001

Born: 24 October 1929, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1948, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1962, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1966, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 01 April 2001, Mater Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Hubert Delaney was born in Dublin on 24 October 1929. After secondary school at the Christian Brothers in Dublin, Hubert entered the Civil Service for 15 months. However a higher calling brought him to the novitiate at Emo Park in 1948. He did the normal course of studies, B.A., philosophy, regency and then theology at Milltown Park in Dublin and crowned them with his ordination to the priesthood on 1962.

After tertianship, his life was lived in educational work. Up to 1974, secondary education occupied him, first at Belvedere College as prefect of studies of the Junior School followed by a year at Clongowes Wood College as teacher and higher line prefect. This was again followed by a three year stint as Headmaster at Gonzaga College in Dublin.
He moved from this into tertiary education and it was philosophy which absorbed his interests for the rest of his life. He lectured at the Milltown Institute in philosophy for eight years up to 1982. He continued lecturing but also studied for his M.A. in philosophy at Trinity College Dublin. He later obtained a Doctorate at Cork University and then went on a sabbatical 1989/1990. He went back to the Milltown Institute as lecturer and was also Director of the Lonergan Centre. He took a year off lecturing and went to Leeson Street as writer and researcher. For two years, 1993 to 1995, he was a tutor in philosophy at the Milltown Institute.

A complete change of venue brought him to Zambia, Africa, to the University of Zambia in Lusaka, invited by Fr Dillon-Malone, head of philosophy there. He stayed for a year lecturing and returned to Ireland to write but he first moved to Korea to lecture for a semester at Sogang University in Seoul. He was back in Leeson Street in 1997 as writer and doing research work again.

His health had not been good. He developed a serious heart condition and other ailments which hospitalised him several times. A stroke in March 2001 sent him to the Mater Hospital. Cerebral apathy and liver disease were diagnosed. All these led to his death on 1 April 2001.

Spontaneous testimony came from two of his former students who later became members of the staff of the Milltown Institute. Both spoke of him as a wonderful teacher, interesting, stimulating, challenging, but, most significant of all, he invited one to enter into a personal engagement and psychological growth. In his teaching he was not only the educator but also the pastor and the priest.

Friendship and service were two of Hubert's qualities. There were many on-going friendships with his former pupils and their families, as well as in the Jesuit communities in which he lived and in the family of his brother Peter. The Morning Star Hostel for ‘down and outs’, the Patricians, the Cenacle Retreat House were some of the areas where Hubert was of service. He had a love of literature, of classical music and of football. He missed all these when he came to Zambia for a year. After all, he was 66 years of age when he came and it is so difficult to make new friends and to fit into a new culture at that age .However he was of service at UNZA when he did come. Hubert's life was one of developing the talents that God had given him, a life centred on his priesthood and on the Mass.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 108 : Special Edition 2001

Obituary

Fr Hubert Delaney (1929-2001)

24th Oct. 1929: Born in Dublin
Early education in St.Patrick's, Drumcondra and CBS, Richmond Street, Dublin.
1947 - 1948: 15 Months in Civil Service
8th Sept 1948: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept 1950: First vows at Emo
1950 - 1953: Rathfarnham, studying Arts at UCD
1953 - 1956: Tullabeg - studying Philosophy
1956 - 1959: Belvedere - Teacher, H.Dip in Ed. at UCD
1959 - 1963: Milltown Park - studying Theology
31 July 1962: Ordained at Milltown Park
1964 - 1964: Tertianship at Rathfarnham Castle
1964 - 1965: Crescent College, Limerick - Teacher
1965 -1970: Belvedere College: Prefect of Studies of Junior school
2nd Feb 1966: Final Vows
1970 - 1971: Clongowes: Higher Line Prefect and teacher
1971 - 1974: Gonzaga College: Headmaster
1974 - 1982: Milltown Park - Lecturer in Philosophy at Milltown Institute
1982 - 1985: Lecturing in Philosophy at Milltown Inst. studying for MA in Phil. Ed. at TCD
1985 - 1989: Doctorate studies in Philosophy at UCC
1989 - 1990: Sabbatical
1990 - 1992: Lecturer in Philosophy at Milltown Institute; Director, Lonergan Centre
1992 - 1993: Leeson St; Writer and Research
1993 - 1995: Tutor in Philosophy at Milltown Institute
1995 - 1996: Lecturer in Philosophy at UNZA, Lusaka Writer;
1996 - 1997: Lecturer in Philosophy at Sogang University, Seoul, Korea (Spring semester)
1997 - 2001: Leeson St; Writer & Research; Chair Virgin Mary School Board, Ballymun
1st April 2001: Died in the Mater Hospital, Dublin

In 1997 Hubert developed a serious heart condition, cardio myopathy, for which he was receiving regular medical treatment. Within the past three years he was hospitalised several times - to have an artificial knee joint fitted, a hip joint replaced and multiple skin grafts on his legs.

The state of his health had been declining noticeably since last September and even more so since February of this year. On March 21s he suffered a stroke and was admitted to the Mater Hospital, where cerebral apathy and liver disease were diagnosed. The combination of his many ailments led rapidly to renal failure, which was the immediate cause of his death.

Des. O Grady preached at Hubert's Funeral Mass...

Hubert has us all where he wants us now - gathered together with him as his sisters and brothers in our Father's house. We are brought together here by our love of Hubert and by the faith we share with him, our faith in the power and love of God who is the Father of us all: “the Father from whom every family, whether spiritual or natural, takes its name”.

We are brought together today by our sorrow and our need, by our desire for the support we find in the company of one another and by our need to pray for Hubert, to give thanks for the gift he has been to us, and to surrender him back to the Father. In doing so we echo the faith of Job, which is also the faith of Hubert: “I know that my redeemer lives... These eyes of mine will gaze on him and find him not aloof”.

Jesus lives now for Hubert as the one who has gone before him to prepare a place for him. We pray that Hubert will now hear the words: “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of the Lord”.

We need not be in any doubt about Hubert's being welcomed into our Father's house. If we who are so poor in love always had a welcome for Hubert in our homes, how much more will our heavenly Father welcome him into his true home now. Unprofitable servants we may be, but beloved children first and last.

Our confidence for Hubert today is our confidence in the Father's love for him. That love has showered gifts on Hubert in this life, gifts that Hubert has turned to good account for us as our presence here today testifies more eloquently than anything I can say

If one looks through the official record of Hubert's assignments as a Jesuit priest Hubert's commitment to education is what stands out most of all. Hubert has worked at all levels of education - primary, secondary and tertiary, as well as in adult education. He taught in Belvedere, Clongowes, the Crescent, and in Gonzaga. He served as prefect of studies in the junior school in Belvedere and as headmaster in the senior school in Gonzaga.

In 1974 Hubert came to Milltown and began his career in third level education and I had spontaneous testimony to the value of his work there from two of his former students who are now members of the staff of the Milltown Institute. Both spoke of him as a wonderful teacher: interesting, stimulating, challenging, but most significant of all, as inviting one to personal engagement and growth. In his teaching he was not only the educator, but the pastor and the priest.

Hubert was able to teach so well because he himself was a lifelong student. And if we look at the topics of his MA thesis, “Imagination in Aristotle”, and his Ph.D. dissertation, “The Self-correcting Process of Learning”, we will realize that Hubert's study, though enjoyed for itself, was always focussed on the service of others. Hubert, like his Lord and Master, was among us as one who serves, and we have all benefited from the graces that God has given to Hubert.

That, as I said, is the official record. But off the record there is a whole parallel world of friendship and service; the Teams of Our Lady, the Morning Star, the Patricians, the Cenacle Retreat House, to name but some of the ones I know of Added to that there is his on-going friendship with many of his former pupils and their families, and, last but not least, his presence in his Jesuit communities and in the family of his brother Peter.

As we pray for Hubert today we can draw confidence from our faith in God and from the evidence of God's love in the gifts and graces he has showered upon Hubert, gifts Hubert turned to good account in his priestly life. Hubert's priesthood was at the centre of his life. He shared the word of God with us all and he gave of himself unsparingly. And at the heart of his every day and every work was the Mass.

There is so much more that could be said - his love of nature, and the joy and inspiration he drew from it - his doctoral dissertation about human development was entitled “The Tree of Life”. Then there was his love of literature. During the last few months he was reading again the novels of Jane Austen. Then there was music - mainly classical, and, of course, football.

Right up to the end Hubert enjoyed all of these. The day before he went to hospital for the last time, just two weeks ago today, he was, much against my wishes, let it be said, in Ballymun to chair a Board meeting of the Virgin Mary School, and then after than he spent the evening with his friends, Michael and Aileen Hardigan. The following day Hubert was too weak to get himself out of bed in the morning, and had to be taken to the Mater Hospital where, in spite of the best efforts of the doctors and nurses he died on Sunday morning of renal failure.

He died, yet he lives. He lives on in our hearts and our thoughts but also, we confidently trust, in our Father's home where he continues to work for us and bless us.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2001

Obituary

Hubert Delaney SJ

Fr Hubert Delaney was Headmaster of Gonzaga 1971 - 1974, and under his leadership the college expanded considerably. A further stream was added to the school. He was very interested in developing the curriculum of the school and he gave a great impetus to drama and music through his wise appointments. His relation ships with members of the staff were particularly friendly and he is remembered with affection. He is also remembered as an administrator who was capable of taking innovative risks. His period of office was one of growth for the College.

May God bless him for his great work.

Fr J Brennan SJ

Diviney, Andrew, 1930-2006, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/593
  • Person
  • 11 February 1930-26 May 2006

Born: 11 February 1930, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1948, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1961, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1981, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 26 May 2006, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1978 at San Francisco CA, USA (CAL) sabbatical
by 1992 at Northridge CA, USA (CAL) working

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 133 : Special Issue September 2007

Obituary

Fr Andrew (Billy) Diviney (1930-2006)

February 1930: Born in Dublin
Early education at CBS, Synge Street
7th September 1948: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1950: First Vows at Emo
1950 - 1952: Rathfarnham - Studied Science at UCD
1952 - 1955: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1955 - 1958: Clongowes - Teacher; Third Line Prefect
1958 - 1962: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1961: Ordained at Milltown Park
1962 - 1963: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1963 - 1977: Clongowes -
1963 - 1966: Lower Line Prefect
1966 - 1969: Minister
1969 - 1977: Teacher
1977 - 1979: San Francisco - Parish Ministry and Sabbatical
1979 - 1980: Loyola - Exec Officer of Marriage & Family Apostolate
1980 -1982: Milltown Park - Assistant to President and Treasurer
2nd February 1981: Final Vows at Milltown Park
1982 - 1983: Gonzaga - Minister; Director, Adult Education Registrar and Treasurer at Milltown Institute
1983 - 1991: Crescent College Comprehensive; Dooradoyle - Teacher
1991 - 2004: California - Our Lady of Lourdes, Northridge, Pastoral Assistant
2004 - 2006: Milltown Park - Praying for Church and Society
26th May 2006: Died in Cherryfield, Dublin

Liam O'Connell writes:
Andrew Diviney was born the third child of six, Michael, Angie, Billy, Margo, Ted and David. Nobody is exactly sure why Andrew ended up being called Billy, but as a young person that name stuck with him in his family and among his friends.

A picture of his parents was always prominent in Billy's room. His family were very important to him, and his strong affection for them extended to his nieces and nephews. He in turn was important to his family, and they loved the attentive, joyful and personal way he celebrated their weddings and religious profession and baptisms. When Billy's niece, Helen, entered religious life, Billy gave her a copy of the Imitation of Christ, with a passage from Philippians inscribed on the front page. This passage was chosen for his funeral Mass and is a reminder of what was important to him in religious life.

Billy went to school in Synge Street, where he was in the scholarship class. He was twice the Leinster Schools 100 yards champion, and won the Lord Mayor trophy for athletics. He enjoyed school and always spoke of his Christian Brother teachers with admiration and great affection. He used to say that they were Great Men.

When Billy joined the Society in 1948 in Emo, he was a member of a large year of 22 other novices. His contemporaries include Joe Brennan, Joe Cleary, Tom Morrissey Conla O Dulaine and Frank O'Neill. Two others, Jimmy McPolin and Joe Shields died recently. Billy was a gentle and popular member of the group, and an outstanding soccer player. His contemporaries noted his lifelong gift for enjoying good company and appreciating other people.

In Mark's Gospel, when Jesus is baptised, we hear the Father taking delight in Him as He says, “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased”. Delight and enjoyment and love are at the heart of God. Billy had this divine gift, the ability to delight in other people, and to enjoy and relish what others might have been too hurried to appreciate.

After studies at Rathfarnham and Tullabeg, Billy went to work for three years in Clongowes, and for two of these years he was the Third Line Prefect, in charge of the first and second year students. He still has good friends from these years. Billy then resumed his studies in Milltown, and, after ordination and tertianship, he returned to Clongowes in 1963, first as Lower Line Prefect and Minister, and then as a teacher of Mathematics and Religion. In religion class he taught the Papal social encyclicals, because he. believed that they were revolutionary and liberating, and his teaching method was based on the asking of questions and the querying of the students' assumptions. These classes often produced heat as well as light.

Life in large communities produced its own tensions, and Billy was one of those who oiled the wheels of community life at Clongowes. He turned the annual holiday, the community villa, from being an ordeal into a pleasure for his colleagues. A close Jesuit friend from these years says that Billy regularly took on difficult and unpleasant work, and this friend admired him for his lifelong faithfulness and integrity.

Many people only learn to identify the “good old days” years later and while looking backwards. They end up saying. Those were the good old days, 20 or 30 years ago, and we did not realise it. But this was not so for Billy. He had a great capacity to enjoy small things and his enjoyment was infectious. He took delight in people, and he knew at the time, that these were the good old days. Past students from Clongowes and Crescent remember these qualities of delight and enjoyment and encouragement. While in Clongowes, Billy would go on Saturday afternoons to the races with his elderly father, and this was important to both of them.

Billy was concerned for people who put themselves under undue pressure. I can remember him in Clongowes calming people down who were upset and overwrought, with an extended hand and the word Easy said in a soothing tone. He worried about those whom he described as Driven. He admired people with balance in their lives, and a word of great praise from him was when he described someone as Poised.

During a sabbatical year in San Francisco, Billy studied psychology, which he found personally enriching. On his return to Ireland he worked for a time with marriage counsellors and those involved in parenting courses. He organised a significant Irish visit by the well-known author and counsellor Jack Dominian. At this time he also taught religious knowledge to seniors at Belvedere.

Next he worked for a period as Registrar in the Milltown Institute. In 1983, when he was 53, he returned to teaching, at Crescent College Comprehensive in Limerick. Today people think of retiring from teaching at this stage of their lives, but Billy enjoyed his return to the classroom and was great company in the staff room, where he made many strong and lasting friendships, and these friends still quote his sayings.

During summer holidays Billy had ministered in parishes in the Los Angeles diocese, and when he retired from teaching he worked for 13 years in Our Lady of Lourdes parish in Northridge, California. These were great years, or as he would say himself 'marvellous years'. He treasured his priesthood, and he enjoyed the reading and work he put into preparing his homilies. He was happy to release his fellow priests by saying the Sunday evening Mass. Billy was loved and appreciated and the parishioners were able to express their gratitude to him in 2001 when Fr. Peter Moran and the parishioners celebrated in style the 40th anniversary of his ordination

In his 60's, Billy took up golf and played with Roddy Guerrini in a four-ball every Tuesday at Elkins Ranch, north of Los Angeles. It should not have been a surprise that the athletics champion developed an effective swing and a tidy golf game. But in golf, too, he never became a fanatic. Just as he never needed to be told that these were “the good old days”, Billy did not need to be told as a golfer to smell the flowers. At golf he enjoyed all of the small things, and he delighted in the company of his friends.

When Billy returned to Milltown fourteen months before his death, he faced serious health problems. The support of his own family was important to him at this time. In the last four years, Billy and his family had to cope with the death of four of his own brothers and sisters, and David is the sole surviving family member. Billy did not speak often about the things that were most important to him, but those who lived with him knew that he was strong and serene and happy as he prepared for the final journey, on Slí na Firine.

Billy died close to the feast of the Ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ, when heaven and earth are brought close together. We trust that the delight that Billy took in living, the delight that he took in his friends, and the delight he took in simple pleasures, will increase and flourish. We trust the God of Surprises to surprise him when Andrew Billy Diviney learns the length and breath and depth and height of the delight that God takes in his beloved son.

◆ The Clongownian, 2007

Obituary

Father Andrew (Billy) Diviney SJ

Andrew Diviney was born in Dublin on the 11th February 1930; he was the third child of six. Nobody is exactly sure why Andrew ended up being called Billy, but as a young person that name stuck with him in his family and among his friends. A picture of his parents was always prominent in Billy's room. His family were very important to him, and his strong affection for them extended to his nieces and nephews. He in rurn was important to his family, and they loved the attentive, joyful and personal way he celebrated their weddings and religious profession and baptisms. When Billy's niece, Helen, entered religious life. Billy gave her a copy of the Imitation of Christ, with a passage from Philippians inscribed on the front page. This passage was chosen for his funeral Mass and is a reminder of what was important to him in religious life.

Billy went to school in Synge Street CBS, where he was in the scholarship class. He was twice the Leinster Schools 100 yards champion, and won the Lord Mayor trophy for athletics. He enjoyed school and always spoke of his Christian Brother teachers with admiration and great affection. When Billy joined the Society in 1948 in Emo, he was a member of a large year of 22 other novices. His contemporaries include Joe Brennan, Joe Cleary, Tom Morrissey Conla Ó Dúlaine and Frank O'Neill. Two others. Jimmy McPolin and Joe Shiels died recently. Billy was a gentle and popular member of the group, and an outstanding soccer player. His contemporaries noted his lifelong gift for enjoying good company and appreciating other people. In Mark's Gospel, when Jesus is baptised, we hear the Father taking delight in Him as He says, “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased”. Delight and enjoyment and love are at the heart of God. Billy had this divine gift, the ability to delight in other people, and to enjoy and relish what others might have been too hurried to appreciate.

After studies at Rathfamham and Tullabeg, Billy went to work for three years in Clongowes, and for two of these years he was the Third Line Prefect in charge of the first and second year students. He still has good friends from these years. Billy then resumed his studies in Milltown and, after ordination and tertianship, he returned to Clongowes in 1963 first as Lower Line Prefect and Minister, and then as a teacher of Mathematics and Religion. In religion class he taught the Papal social encyclicals because he believed that they were revolutionary and liberating, and his teaching method was based on the asking of questions and the querying of the students' assumptions. These classes often produced heat as well as light. Life in large communities produced its own tensions, and Billy was one of those who oiled the wheels of community life at Clongowes. He turned the annual holiday, the community villa from being an ordeal into a pleasure for his colleagues. A close Jesuit friend from these years says that Billy regularly took on difficult and unpleasant work, and this friend admired him for his lifelong faithfulness and integrity.

Many people only learn to identify the 'good old days' years later and while looking backwards. They end up saying those were the good old days, 20 or 30 years ago, and we did not realise it. But this was not so for Billy. He had a great capacity to enjoy small things and his enjoyment was infectious. He took delight in people, and he knew at the time that these were the good old days. Past students from Clongowes and Crescent remember these qualities of delight and enjoyment and encouragement. While in Clongowes. Billy would go on Saturday afternoons to the races with his elderly father, and this was important to both of them. Billy was concerned for people who put themselves under undue pressure. I can remember him in Clongowes calming people down who were upset and overwrought, with an extended hand and the word 'easy said in a soothing tone. He worried about those whom he described as “driven”. He admired people with balance in their lives, and a word of great praise from him was when he described someone as “poised”.

During a sabbatical year in San Francisco, Billy studied psychology, which he found personally enriching. On his return to Ireland he worked for a time with marriage counsellors and those involved in parenting courses. He organised a significant Irish visit by the well-known author and counsellor Jack Dominian. At this çime he also caught religious knowledge to seniors at Belvedere. Next he worked for a period as Registrar in the Milltown Institute. In 1983, when he was 53, he returned to teaching, at Crescent College Comprehensive in Limerick. Today people think of retiring from teaching at this stage of their lives, but Billy enjoyed his return to the classroom and was great company in the staff room, where he made many strong and lasting friendships, and these friends still quote his sayings.

During summer holidays Billy had ministered in parishes in the Los Angeles diocese, and when he retired from teaching he worked for 13 years in Our Lady of Lourdes parish in Northridge, California. These were great years, or as he would say himself ‘marvellous years'. He treasured his priesthood, and he enjoyed the reading and work he put into preparing his homilies. He was happy to release his fellow priests by saying the Sunday evening Mass. Billy was loved and appreciated and the parishioners were able to express their gratitude to him in 2001 when Fr Peter Moran and the parishioners celebrated in style the 40th anniversary of his ordination. In his 60's, Billy took up golf and played with Roddy Guerrini in a four ball every Tuesday at Elkins Ranch, north of Los Angeles. It should not have been a surprise that the athletics champion developed an effective swing and a tidy golf game. But in golf, too, he never became a fanatic. Just as he never needed to be told that these were “the good old days”, Billy did not need to be told as a golfer to smell the flowers. At golf he enjoyed all of the small things, and he delighted in the company of his friends.

When Billy returned to Milltown fourteen months before his death, he faced serious health problems. The support of his own family was important to him at this time. In the last four years, Billy and his family had to cope with the death of four of his own brothers and sisters, and David is the sole surviving family member. Billy did not speak often about the things that were most important to him, but those who lived with him knew that he was strong and serene and happy as he prepared for the final journey, on Slí na Firine. Billy died close to the feast of the Ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ, when heaven and earth are brought close together. We trust that the delight that Billy took in living, the delight that he took in his friends,

Doyle, Francis, 1931-2011, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/771
  • Person
  • 04 October 1931-17 March 2011

Born: 04 October 1931, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 25 March 1963, Wah Yan College, Kowloon
Final Vows: 22 April 1977, St Francis Xavier, Kulala Lumpur, Malaysia
Died: 17 March 2011, Arrupe, Quezon City, Manila, Philippines - Sinensis Province (CHN)

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

Transcribed HIB to HK : 03 December 1966; HK to CHN : 1992

by 1958 at Cheung Chau, Hong Kong - Regency studying language
by 1961 at Bellarmine , Baguio City Philippines (ExOr) studying

◆ Hong Kong Catholic Archives :
Former editor dies

A former editor of the Sunday Examiner and the first Jesuit to be ordained a priest in Hong Kong, Father Frank Doyle, died in Manila, The Philippines, on 17 March 2011, after suffering a stroke on 6 February 2011. He was treated at the Medical City in Manila, but his condition continued to deteriorate.

He was farewelled from the Loyola House of Studies on the campus of Ateneo de Manila University on 23 March 2011, with Father Mark Raper as the main celebrant at his requiem Mass, and buried at the Jesuit novitiate in Quezon City.

Born in Ireland on 4 October 1931, he entered the Society of Jesus on 7 September 1949. His ordination at Wah Yan College Chapel in Kowloon on 25 March 1963 is described as being a big moment in the history of the Jesuits in Hong Kong, receiving headlines in the newspapers and on the radio news.

The newly ordained priest did interviews for the radio and historian, Father Thomas Morrissey, described it “a widespread manifestation of friendliness towards the Church and the society,” in his book, The Jesuits in Hong Kong, South China and Beyond.

He is described by Paul K. B. Chan, as “as a very friendly teacher and a good spiritual director.”

During his years in Hong Kong, Father Doyle was at the forefront of many activities and was particularly active in the push for direct elections from 1988 into the early 1990s. He addressed a forum of 10,000 people, along with the Democratic Party champion of the cause, Martin Lee Chu-ming, and on 21 May 1989 was present at a prayer meeting in St. Margaret’s Happy Valley at the end of a day when an estimated crowd of between 400,000 and one million people walked the streets of Hong Kong in support of the issue.

Father Doyle also worked in the Jesuit Centre of Spirituality at Cheung Chau, as well as among the students at Ricci Hall, and was among the first group to go from Hong Kong to the East Asia Pastoral Institute in Manila to study.

After an initial stint teaching at Wah Yan College, Father Doyle went to Singapore, where his career with newspapers began, working on the diocesan publication, Catholic News. He later became the founding director of the Pastoral Institute in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, where he stayed for the full 10 years allowed to a foreign resident by the government at that time.

Back in Hong Kong, he continued his writing at UCA News, before coming to the Sunday Examiner. He is remembered from his years at the editor’s desk (1991 to 1993) as an extremely good speaker of Cantonese, as well as a joyful and enthusiastic person.

“He would sing as he worked,” one of the staff said, “adding that he seemed to be able to do almost everything from writing articles to designing advertisements and doing the artwork himself.”

He is also remembered for giving a job to a hearing impaired woman. Staff who go back that far, say that he was patient and took time to teach her how to cut and paste to set out a page for the printers. They say that he continually encouraged her and, gradually her self-confidence grew and she began to speak more freely. Eventually, even, her hearing appeared to improve and in the end, she could talk quite fluently.

Father Ciaran Kane, from Xavier House in Cheung Chau, studied with him in high school in Ireland and they were again together in the Jesuit formation programme, coming to Hong Kong at about the same time.

Father Kane described his old friend as charming and a man who made friends easily, although in many ways he could be called a loner, as he liked to do his own thing in his own way. Father Kane said that something changed in him in later years. In describing him as dapper, he noted that in his later years he become really casual and even grew a beard.

“But he really loved writing,” Father Kane said, “and he was good at it. For many years after he went back to Ireland, he would return to Kuala Lumpur and do a month at the Catholic paper each year. He wrote many things.”

Father Doyle left Hong Kong when he finished at the Sunday Examiner and returned to Ireland where he worked in high school ministry and also retreat work.

Father Kane said, “He never forgot his Cantonese though and kept contact with Chinese people in Ireland and England, as well as in Vancouver and New York for many years.”

Father Doyle finished his days in Manila among the Jesuit scholastics as a spiritual adviser. He is also remembered as an author of prayers and reflections.

He once wrote, “Perhaps I haven’t seen things from this perspective, or have forgotten it, but it is the truth of my life: I am called by name, journeying along a unique path, God with me, God before me, all along the way that is mine.”

Tributes to him have poured in from every country in which he worked. May he rest in peace.
Sunday Examiner Hong Kong - 3 April 2011

◆ Biographical Notes of the Jesuits in Hong Kong 1926-2000, by Frederick Hok-ming Cheung PhD, Wonder Press Company 2013.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/frank-doyle/

Frank Doyle, an Irish Jesuit priest of the Chinese Province, died on Saint Patrick’s Day 2011. After some years working in Ireland, Frank had returned to Asia in 2010, undertaking
work as a spiritual director in Manila. For many years he wrote the Living Space commentaries – reflections on readings and saints – on the Sacred Space website. His requiem and burial took place in Saint Ignatius Oratory, Loyola House of Studies, Manila on 22 March. Messages sent on news of his illness and other more general comments indicate how meaningful his apostolate had become to so many whom he had helped in their search for the Lord. The text of the homily delivered at his funeral can be read at Living Space, courtesy of Mark Raper SJ, President of the Jesuit Conference of Asia Pacific. The text of the homily (http://sacredspace.ie/livingspace/funeral-homily/)

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/frank-in-sweaty-manila/

Frank Doyle SJ (left in photo) recently exchanged the green and leafy delights of Gonzaga for the humid heats of Manila, where there has been no rain for a long time and it is extremely hot, exceeding 30C and going up to 36, with humidity to match. After years in Hong Kong, Frank served Chinese exiles in many parts of the world, including Dublin. His ease with groups of diverse languages and cultures will stand to him in his new job as spiritual director to Jesuit students from at least twelve different countries. On arrival he joined a team directing the spiritual exercises in an upcountry retreat house. He lives on the large (Belfield-size) campus of the Jesuit university, Ateneo de Manila, and is praying for some cool rain

◆ Biographical Notes of the Jesuits in Hong Kong 1926-2000, by Frederick Hok-ming Cheung PhD, Wonder Press Company 2013 ISBN 978 9881223814 :

Note from Paddy Finneran Entry
Among his students were Ciarán Kane and Frank Doyle in Belvedere

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 145 : Summer 2011

Obituary

Fr Frank Doyle (1932-2011) : China Province

Obituary by Myles O'Reilly
Who is Frank Doyle? He had so many lives within one life that no one seems to know the whole Frank. On top of that, he was quite a private person and very self-sufficient. No wonder the editor found it so hard to find someone to write his obituary and the lot falls to me, being his last Rector in Ireland. Outwardly Frank was an exemplary novice like monk who never wasted a minute of his time. He rose at six in the morning, faithfully meditated for an hour, had breakfast in silence on his own, dutifully sat at his desk dealing with emails, researching, reading and writing for his Sacred Space contributions, celebrated Mass once weekly in Gonzaga school, and for the rest of the week at 10 30 a.m. with the Cherryfield community, for whom he had great affection, continued his morning desk-work until lunch to which he went with a certain reluctance (Frank was strongly one-to-one in preference).

After a short friendly chat in the kitchen with Linda the cook, he went to his room for a siesta, continued his reading and writing but interlaced it with listening to the radio, listening to his favourite music, usually jazz, and getting some physical exercise. This brought him to a late supper where he was careful to eat a healthy diet. After this, he played the piano for half an hour, relaxed in the library, having a chat with Kennedy O'Brien, whenever he was there, and then went off to bed. He was usually cheerful, had a great hearty laugh, loved a joke, passed many a one by email to his friends (including blue!!). He wore simple clothes, always wore a ring as a sign of his commitment to Christ, and always kept his room simple and uncluttered.

Yet he was also deeply serious and reflective and could be easily drawn into a theological discussion, usually taking a liberal line but in a gentle, non-aggressive way. Despite being wedded to his routine, he was always ready to drop it at the request for some help of any nature. He was also generous with his time for directees or friends that came to visit him. On Sundays he joined the Dublin Chinese community for Eucharist, after which he would join his brother Philip and his family for lunch, where he was a great hit with his nephews and nieces, and their children, all of whom he baptized and with whom he would watch television (only time in the week he permitted himself such an indulgence!). . For some of his summer, Frank became a curate in an all-Chinese community in New York, In September he offered himself as chaplain to a group that went to Lourdes every year. Occasionally throughout the year he would give a preached retreat, usually to nuns in the Loreto retreat centre in Linsfort, Co Donegal. He also loved to stand in as chaplain in St Vincent's private hospital in Dublin when required. So far this is only a brief external description of Frank in his Gonzaga incarnation

From his outer conformity to routine, you could be forgiven for thinking that Frank could just as easily have been a Cistercian as a Jesuit, but when you read his retreat reflections from the early 90's you realize that nothing could be further from the truth. True to Ignatian spirituality, we are defined by what is our deep heart's core. Even the ancient spirituality of the Upanishads recognized this. “You are what your deepest driving desire is; as your desire is, so is your will, as your will is so is your deed” The following is how Frank expressed his deepest desire.

    “My deepest desire is
to work for the kingdom of God
in whatever place
and in whatever work
to which I believe God is calling me
In the spirit of the beatitudes
especially in companionship with Christ today
in the poor and the discriminated against
even if it means suffering and rejection
using only the weapons of compassion, justice and freedom”.

We can easily hear the call of Christ the King, and the “Two Standards” in this deepest desire. True to it, throughout his reflections in his diary and his retreat notes, Frank is always questioning himself as to whether he is in the right place or doing the right work in terms of promoting God's kingdom. Could he be more effectively employed elsewhere? Even though the Chinese left the deepest imprint in his heart, it did not stop him from wondering whether it would be best for the Hong Kong mission that he leave, as a more indigenous Church would be more acceptable to mainline China when they would take over Hong Kong in 1997. Ought not the Hong Kong Church stand on its own feet, and best evangelize its own people? A combination of external circumstances and internal discernment led Frank to switch his missionary life to Malaysia where he put down fruitful roots for 10 years, enhanced by his willingness to learn the Malay language. He was deeply impressed by the strength of the indigenous church there, which gave him the freedom to consider turning the last quarter of his life to the Western world. The first part of this was spent in Canada where he was confronted with the challenge of making a stand for the gay community on what he saw as a human rights issue. This led to his having to leave ministry there and come back to Ireland as chaplain to Gonzaga school, which he undertook for three years.

Inwardly Frank was always chiding himself for writing just for himself alone. He saw it as too self indulgent. “Did not Ghandhi write solely for the edification of people? And Jesus did not write at all!!” But somehow he knew his vocation was to write. He had been editor of the “Hong Kong Examiner” and he had ambitious writing goals to fulfil. He longed to write about the Eucharist, the Beatitudes, New Testament syllabi for Hong Kong schools, sermon notes, Discernment of Spirits, and the use of “eros”, “philia”, and “agape” in the New Testament.

Late in his life he got his opportunity, a chance to channel all his in-depth reflections over the years on these topics through “Sacred Space”, which had an outreach to hundreds of thousands of people throughout the world. He was asked to provide reflections on the liturgical readings of each day in the year and on the lives of the saints. He thrived on this mission and even found time to write a book on “A New Sexual Ethic” in his spare time, that I hope the Jesuits will find in his computer in the Philippines. The quality of the responses that Frank got from all over the world from his readers, when they heard of his stroke, was amazing. Emails came flooding in from Italy, Canada, India, Scotland, Brazil, Norway, USA, England, Portugal, Philippines, Malta, Korea, Honk Kong, Malaysia, Australia, Ireland and Spain in their hundreds. I quote a few just to give the reader a flavour of the remarks.
“You communicate the message of Christ convincingly to contemporary culture”...
“You touch, inspire and challenge me, I relish the Jesuitness that oozes out from your deep integrated life” ...
“On many occasions, I felt like the disciples on the way to Emmaus having the scriptures opened to them”...
“You are like St Paul, Woe is me if I do not preach the gospel” etc

When Frank was riding high apostolically at the age of 77, his deepest desire, the guiding principle of his life, did not leave him. It led him to agreeing to go back to Manila in the Philippines, to where he did his theology as a scholastic, as chaplain to 40 Chinese students. There was a feeling of St Paul leaving one of his missionary communities, never to return, as we said good bye to him on the steps of Gonzaga community two years ago, as he headed off to the East yet again to fittingly die among the people that struck the deepest chord in his heart, the Chinese on, of all days, St Patrick's Day!! St Francis Xavier will surely gladly be among the welcoming party for Frank, but might be a little envious that Frank got to work and live among the Chinese, spoke their language, and travelled his missionary 100,000 miles by plane and train!!! May he rest in peace.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1965

Sons of Xavier

Father Frank Doyle (1949). The only other who belongs to this part of the world and is within it is Father Frank Doyle, who is just now concluding his Tertianship and is due to return in the middle of May. He is to work with the “China News Analysis”, a weekly publication run by Jesuits which sifts the news published in China and is highly respected as an interpreter of current events and trends in Communist China.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1986

News of the Past

Frank Doyle SJ

Frank Doyle SJ (1949) was in Belvedere this summer: I spent seven years in Belvedere, from 1942 to 1949.

In that year, I entered the Society of Jesus with three other classmates, two of whom are still in the Society - Denis Flannery(Zambia) and Percy Winder (Clongowes). There followed two years as a novice in Emo, three years in Rathfarnham studying Classics at UCD. (then in Earlsfort Terrace), and three years of philosophy at St Stanislaus College in Tullabeg, near Tullamore.

In 1957, I went to Hong Kong. The first two years there were spent in our language school and the third year was spent teaching in a Jesuit secondary school, Wah Yan College, Hong Kong (not to be confused with Wah Yan College, Kowloon).

At the end of the third year, I returned to Ireland to begin theology at Milltown Park in Dublin. But after one year, I transferred to Bellarmine College at Baguio City in the Philippines. Studying here also gave me an opportunity to study Mandarin Chinese, the mostly widely spoken form of Chinese. (In Hong Kong I had learnt Cantonese which is spoken by “only 30 million” people.)

In 1963, I was ordained priest at the chapel of Wah Yan College Kowloon in Hong Kong - the first Jesuit to be ordained in Hong Kong.

After completing theology at Baguio in 1964, I went to Chabanel Hall in Manila for tertianship, my final year of formation, “Hall” was really a euphemism for a collection of galvanised metal huts which had in previous years served as a prisoner of war camp for both Americans and Japa nese during the Second World War.

In 1965, I returned to Hong Kong to start my career as a “formed” Jesuit. In the first year, I worked with Fr Ladany, a Hungarian Jesuit, on “China News Analysis”, a weekly newsletter which Fr Ladany single-handedly edited from 1953 to 1982. He has now retired and handed over to a younger generation.

In the following year, I was assigned back to Wah Yan College Hong Kong as “spiritual father” to the boys and minister to the Jesuit community.

In the summer of 1967, I was asked by the superior Fr Fergus Cronin if I would like to spend two months of the holidays in Singapore. I was delighted at the idea.

The day after I arrived in Singapore towards the end of July, I was put in the editor's chair of the local Catholic newspaper although I had no experience whatever of this kind of work. The two months became two years. In 1969 I parted company with the paper. The Archbishop of Singapore was not too happy with my freewheeling editorial policy.

Instead I was transferred to neighbouring Malaysia where I was to spend 10 years (so much for the two months in 1967). I only left after 10 years because the government's policy towards missionaries did not allow me to stay any longer.

My work in Malaysia was very varied. There are not many priests there and one finds oneself doing all kinds of things. So I found myself helping out in parishes at weekends, being chaplain to two universities (at the same time), helping out in a pastoral institute, editing a diocesan newsletter, giving retreats, seminars and talks, teaching religion in schools... In my final year (78-79) I was a parish priest. My time in Malaysia was a very enriching experience.

In 1979, I was back in Hong Kong. My first year back was spent relearning Cantonese, which had. grown rusty from lack of use over 12 years. There followed one year of teaching but since then I have been mostly engaged in editing work of one kind or another. In 1982 I began editing “Correspondence”, a newsletter whose intention was to keep Jesuits informed on what was happening to the Church in China. Also in that year, I began an association with UCAN (Union of Catholic Asian News). UCAN is a Catholic news agency which covers the East and Southeast Asian region. Each week it sends out a dispatch to subscribing newspapers. It has also been preparing a directory of Catholic dioceses in the region of which I was the editor. In more recent years, it began publishing a weekly newsletter of Church news in Asia. I was also involved with this.

On a more directly pastoral level, I have been helping out in a parish at weekends and been spir itual adviser to a Christian Life Community group in one of our schools. There have also been retreats and talks to various groups.

Hong Kong in many ways is an exciting place to be. The Pacific Basin is now probably the fastest growing area economically in the world today and Hong Kong is one of its hubs. The many changes taking place in China and it assumption of sove =reignity over Hong Kong in 1997 also present excit ing challenges. Not least to the Jesuits. I am very happy to be part of that.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1991

Interview

At Home in the World : Talking to Father Frank Doyle SJ

Frank Doyle SJ (1949) has spent most of his time since joining the Jesuits in the Far East and works in Hong Kong, now facing reunification with China in six years' time. On one of his occasional visits home, when he likes to stay in Belvedere, Conor Patten interviewed him for The Belvederian in October 1990.

When did you enter Belvedere?
I joined the Junior House in 1942 at the age of eleven and a year later went on to the Senior School, where I spent all six years of my secondary education.

What are your memories of the school?
Well, I can remember being very happy there, I enjoyed the school a lot. I was very involved with the Vincent de Paul Society - in those days there were terrible slums down in Parell Street and we would visit people there and bring them food tickets, which were worth about five shillings, sometimes ten. That's roughly twenty-five pence nowdays. It was really Sean O'Casey poverty - have you seen Juno and the Paycock? It was just like that. Whole families living in rooms. I was also very keen on the Camera Club. We had a Jesuit (Fr Scantlebury) in charge who was also editor of The Irish Messenger. He was very interested in archeology and every Saturday or Sunday we would head out for some archeological site in the country and photograph it, so combining the two interests. I can remember the bicycles that we used, it was always bicycles. In that way I visited most of the archeological sites in Dublin and the surrounding counties,

Do you think the school has changed since then?
Of course! It has changed a lot! Mostly for the better, I think. I haven't had much exposure to the classroom since I returned and I haven't been in contact with many of the students but I can see changes have taken place. The curriculum has certainly changed: everybody studied Latin up to the Leaving when I was in school and there was a straight choice between Science and Greek in Fifth Year. Society changes and the school changes with it.

Do you think that the Jesuits in Belvedere influenced your decision to become a Jesuit yourself?
Yes, I do. We had nine scholastics in the school during my final year and I got to know the Jesuits well. I think they did influence my decision.

Did you know any of the community back then who are still here today?
I knew quite a lot - Br Coigan [R.I.P.), Fr Reidy, Fr Schrenk, Fr McLaughlin and Fr MacSeumais.

How do you think Ireland as a society has changed in the years that you have been away?
Well, I think that there is a lot of wealth around now that was not there when I was at school. The greatest changes are economic, People seem to have more money, even students have more money. I remember receiving two and sixpence a week, which is about fifteen pence now. Looking back, those days seem a very austere time. Those who were considered the “comfortable middle class” would not be considered middle class today. There also seems to be a much greater split in society - the gap between rich and poor and the haves and have-nots seems to have grown.

Did you join the Jesuits straight after leaving school?
I graduated from Belvedere in 1949 and went straight to Emo Park where I spent two years, then I took my vows and then spent four years studying Classics in UCD, then came my three years of Philosophy.

Why did you volunteer for the missions?
I think that it was because I saw that nobody else from my year was going to apply, and I knew that there was a great need for people out there. They usually send at least one scholastic out every year and it seemed that no one else was interested in going. I think I also wanted to see other parts of the world, I wanted to travel.

How did you feel on arriving at Hong Kong?
It was very exciting - the day I arrived must have been the most exciting day of my life. I can remember being very impressed by Hong Kong, it seemed a very impressive place compared to Ireland's bare existence. For instance, we had a brand new Jesuit school which was very modern. I think I fell in love with Hong Kong. I wasn't homesick at all, as a matter of fact. I found leaving Hong Kong a lot harder than leaving Ireland.

What were your duties while you were there?
I spent two years learning the language, Cantonese Chinese. Although it is a British colony, the work of the Church is in Chinese, and in my third year there I taught in the two Jesuit schools - one on the mainland and the other on the island.

How did you find the students in Hong Kong compared to students in Ireland?
The Chinese are very future-orientated: from a very young age they are talking about their careers and what they want to become. There are always exceptions, just like there are anywhere, but discipline is not a major problem. There seemed to be a very good relationship between the pupils and staff. I found myself so much at home there I didn't want to leave at all!

Your next posting in the Far East brought you to the Philippines: what were your experiences there?
I spent my tertianship, which is a period of renewal before your Final Vows, in Manila. It was suggested that I go out there because I would be able to lean Mandarin Chinese in a theology house that was near the city. After the Communist take-over, there was a lot of pressure on the Jesuits to leave China, so they just moved the whole community from Shanghai to Manila. Of course, they never expected the Communist regime to last so long! After that I spent some time in a place out in the countryside which was called Chabanel Hall of, as it was sometimes called, Chabanel Hell! It was a former prison used by both the US and Japan during the forties and was just a collection of corrugated iron sheeting which, of course, became very, very hot during the day. The only window was a small mosquito-screen which we would leave open to try and cool the place a little.

Did you witness any of the events which led to the elction of Ferdinand Marcos?
Yes, they held the election just before I left in 1965. He was just like any other Filipino politician - presumed corrupt. But he seemed very capable, a very canny and shrewd politician, He was a qualified lawyer, and the most prestigious exams in the Philippines are Law exams that take place every year. To come in the top ten of your class marks you out as an exceptional man, Marcos came first. He was also known to have killed a man, but he defended himself and was acquitted.

I think he probably could have brought the country out of the problems it had, but he got caught up in the political system that exists in the Philippines. It's very feudalistic, the country is iun by the powerful families. Things haven't really changed, even under Aquino. If you can remember back to the revolution when they stormed the palace, there was a lot of talk about “People Power”. “People Power” is a myth! Mrs Aquino is finding it hard to cope with these powerful families, just like he did.

Where did you go after your Final Vows?
I returned to Hong Kong where I expected to spend a lot of time, but things were not to work out as I had expected, I began working with a priest who was a well known expert on China, There is only one paper allowed out of China and that's The People's Daily. Of course, it's just a mouthpiece of the Communist Govertiment, full of propaganda, but by carefully reading between the lines this priest could see some of the power struggles that were taking place in the party. It didn't really work out too well though: he was the sort of man who could only work by himself and after a year I went back to teaching.
'
At the beginning of the summer holidays it was suggested to me that I work in Singapore for a couple of months. A week later, I arrived there, was brought downtown to the headquarters of the Catholic newspaper, shown the editor's chair and told to sit down! So I had to start from scratch and my two months quickly turned into two years. I was eventually fired from my post by the local Archbishop who was not happy with my work.

Was there any particular reason for your dismissal?
Yes, to be honest there was. At the time I was editor, around 1968-69, Humanae Vitae was published and there was a great debate going on inside the Church for and against it. I regarded myself as a serious journalist and set about publishing views for and against the document, and this angered the Archbishop. He didn't mind me publishing articles in favour of Humanae Vitae but he wasn't too happy with me publishing articles against it. I think we had a basic difference of opinion - he felt the paper should have been an organ for teaching the faithful the doctrine of the Church, whereas I felt it should give both sides of the story and let people know what was going on. Anyway, at the end of my second year, it was the general feeling that it would be better for me to leave.

Where did you go?
I volunteered for Malaysia because I know they were very short-handed and Jesuits from Hong Kong were reluctant to go there. As it turned out, I spent almost all of the seventies there, from 1969-79. I was chaplain to two universities and I gave a lot of retreats and things like that. In my last year I was a parish priest.

In 1979 you returned to Hong Kong. How had the colony changed in the years you had been away?
Hong Kong is constantly changing, new buildings are always going up, new property constantly being created. For instance, they had a totally new road system which had been built while I was away. I didn't feel the same excitement that I had felt when I first arrived in the colony, but it is still a very vibrant place. I taught in a school up until 1981 but then I decided that teaching was not my strongest skill so I started to work in a new Catholic newsagency called UCAN. I've been helping to edit and report for the agency from then until now.

What is your opinion of the student demonstrations that took place last year in China and their significance for Hong Kong?
Well, the year that looms larger over the colony is 1997 when Britain hands it back to the Peking government, but I'm optimistic in the long run. : Hong Kong has gone through a lot of crises through the years and its people are very resilient. The people of China are very pragmatic, and I think the crackdown on the students was a setback, not a real change in direction. Two years ago China was regarded as the leading reformer in the Communist world, flow it is the last. Its political struggles are happening at the top, and things will change in the end.

Hong Kong is of colossai importance to China, in terms of economic and political power. It's very small but it is the eleventh largest industrial unit in the world. If China would only unleash the energies of its people it would become a huge power.

Your trip to Ireland is nearly at an end. Where do you think your travels will bring you next?
I could be spending a lot of time in Hong Kong, but you can never know for sure. If there was somewhere else I thought I was needed theri I would go. This is a very exciting period for the whole region - for the whole of the Far East and the Pacific Rim.

After spending most of your life in the Far East, where do you consider home?
I love Ireland, but I think I belong to the whole world rather than a single place. I see the whole

Did you ever think you would have ended up on the other side of the world when you decided to become a Jesuit?
To be honest, I had no idea! My original ambition was to become a teacher in a Jesuit school somewhere in Ireland. I volunteered for Hong Kong because I thought no one else would go.

Any regrets?
None at all.

Duffy, Hugh P, 1936-2017, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/827
  • Person
  • 14 September 1936-28 April 2017

Born: 14 September 1936, Phibsboro, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1954, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 10 July 1968, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 01 February 1974, Della Strada Community, Dooradoyle, Limerick
Died: 28 April 2017, St James’ Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1970 at Auriesville NY, USA (NEB) making Tertianship
by 1971 at New York NY, USA (NEB) studying
by 1980 at Bronx NY, USA (NYK) studying
by 2004 at Bronx NY, USA (NYK) working
by 2011 at Seattle University ORE, USA (ORE) teaching

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/hugh-duffy-gentle-jesuit/

Hugh Duffy – ‘a gentle Jesuit’
Fr Hugh Duffy SJ died in St James’s Hospital on Friday 28 April 2017, aged 80 years old. Born and raised in Dublin, Hugh won a senior cup rugby medal with Belvedere College SJ and entered the Jesuits in 1954. He spent several years in Limerick as a teacher and lecturer. He did his Doctoral degree in English in the United States and he worked in parish ministry and as a visiting professor there. Brian Grogan SJ gave the homily at his funeral mass in Milltown Park Chapel on 3 May.

Fr Grogan said about his friend and classmate, “This man was more there than the average man. He was able to reveal gold to other people”. He fondly remembered when Hugh went on to do his doctoral training after four bachelor degrees during a time when the Church was struggling to adapt to the times. His PhD thesis explored a fresh following of faith in a God who infinitely loves.

Regarding his life as a teacher, “Hugh struggled to liberate his students from destructive images of God. He had a passion for the genuine liberation of the human heart. He wanted people to know that they are loved and appreciated beyond words”. And he taught thousands of pupils in thousands of classes over his lifetime. A friend once noted: “He was a pet; he had soft eyes”. Fr Grogan also thanked his family for sharing Hugh with his Jesuit companions.

Referring to the Jesuit’s decline in health where he moved from autonomy to dependency, Fr Grogan remarked that “He did not yield to dark moods. He was humble and patient, and he offered his suffering for the Church and the world”. The Gospel for the funeral mass depicted Jesus asking his disciple Peter if he loved him, then commanding him to look after his flock. Fr Grogan imagined Hugh answering wholeheartedly, “Yes, I love you, Lord”.

“And so, Hugh found that dying is safe because God is safe, and all restricting images melt away. In his transfigured body, he’s able to dance and sing, and sing and dance, without a stick. And I think that laughter and merriment will be a large part of his contribution to the cosmic party.”

Damien Burke, assistant archivist in the Province, was also at the funeral mass. Hugh helped Damien in his work, identifying Jesuits from earlier days whom Damien would not have known. The very night before his stroke, Hugh was working with Damien on a pamphlet from Belvedere College SJ. “We were discussing a flyer for a 1953 production of the Mikado in which Hugh had a part – he was in the chorus. He was his usual lovely self, a kind and gentle Jesuit, and I really enjoyed working with him.”

A large number of Hugh’s family were in attendance including nieces and nephews who returned from many different countries. His nephew Ian spoke movingly about him. He said he would have made a great father so it was all the more inspirational that he had dedicated his life to the Church. And he raised a laugh when he talked about Hugh’s love of America and how he drove right across the continent from one coast to another – adding, “probably very slowly, but he did it!”

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

Scoil Colmcille, Dublin; Belvedere College SJ

1956-1959 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1959-1962 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1962-1965 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Regency : Teacher; Studying for CWC Cert in Education
1965-1969 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1969-1970 Monroe, Auriesville, NY, USA - Tertianship at Our Lady of the Martyrs
1970-1971 Rice High School, NY, USA - Studying for MA and MEd at Columbia University
1971-1979 Crescent College Comprehensive SJ, Dooradoyle - Teacher; Transition Year Co-ordinator
1979-1980 All Hallows High School, Bronx, NY, USA - Doctoral studies in English at Columbia University
1981-1982 Fordham University, NY, USA - Doctoral studies in English
1983 Our Lady of Perpetual Help Parish, San Francisco, CA, USA - Parish Work
1983-1985 Gonzaga College SJ - Teacher; 6th Form Master
1985-2002 Crescent College Comprehensive SJ, Dooradoyle - Head of & Lecturer in English Department, Mary Immaculate College
1994 Chair English Department & Lecturer in English at Mary Immaculate College (UL)
2002 Sabbatical
2003-2004 St Thomas the Apostle, Hepstead, New York, NY, USA - Parish Work
2004-2012 Seattle University, Seattle, WA, USA - Visiting Professor in English and Theology
2012-2017 Leeson St - Assistant Chaplain in Cherryfield Lodge

Dunne, James, 1921-2014, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/845
  • Person
  • 22 May 1921-07 November 2014

Born: 22 May 1921, Kilbeggan, County Westmeath
Entered: 07 November 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final vows: 02 February 1960, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 07 November 2014, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Transcribed : HIB to ZAM 03/12/1969; ZAM to HIB 1979

by 1952 at Chikuni, Chisekesi, N Rhodesia (POL Mi) working - fourth wave of Zambian Missioners

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Note from Bernard (Barney) Collins Entry
In 1951 he accompanied the first two scholastics, Bob Kelly and Joe Conway, and Br. Jim Dunne, on their way to the then Northern Rhodesia.

Note from Joe McCarthy Entry
In the late 50s, Joe pioneered the Chivuna Mission where he built the community house, church and Trade School with the co-operation of Br Jim Dunne and won the esteem and affection of the people in the locality

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 158 : Winter 2014

Obituary

Br James (Jim) Dunne (1921-2014)

22 May 1921: Born in Kilbeggan, Co. Westmeath.
Early education at Rahugh National School and CBS Tullamore.
Worked in the family business
7 November 1949: Entered the Society at Emo
8 November 1951: First Vows in Zambia
1951 - 1959: Chivunia Mission, Zambia – Teacher in technical and building skills
1959 - 1960: Manresa, Roehampton - Tertianship
1960 - 1974: Bishop's House, Monze - Builder
2 February 1960: Final Vows at Chikuni
1974 - 1981: Belvedere College - Minister
1981 - 1983: CIR - Secretary to the College
1983 - 1985: St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street - Minister; Supervisor of staff
1985 - 1987: Tullabeg - Minister
1987 - 1988: Tullabeg - Sabbatical; studying Theology at Milltown Institute
1988 - 1995: Milltown Park - Treasurer
1995 - 1999: St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street - Assisted in the church
1999 - 2007: Milltown Park - Assisted in the Community
2007 - 2014: Cherryfield Lodge – Prayed for the Church and the Society

Brother Jim Dunne was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 13th July 2007. He was a happy resident and enjoyed fairly good health over the years. His condition deteriorated over time and he died peacefully in Cherryfield Lodge. May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

On Friday, 7th November 2014, Brother Jim Dunne, a member of the Milltown Park community, died at Cherryfield Lodge, at the age of 93 years and several months - a monumental age for a man of many monuments. Always a man of few words, Jim became more quiet-spoken as the years advanced. But underneath this quiet exterior lay a deeply spiritual man whose longings and desires were always for the Lord and how he could use his talents to make the love and service of Christ our Lord a reality in his own life, as well as in the lives of his fellow-Jesuits and the many individuals whom he encountered during his many years with us.

From the very beginning of his religious life, Jim was a rock-solid man of God. Very early witness to this was the trust that the Irish Provincial, Fr. Tommy Byrne, placed in him by sending him in his second year as a novice to Northern Rhodesia, to what was then a newly developing world for Irish Jesuits. Jim was just over 30 at the time, mature in years but still grappling with the beginnings of the religious life. However, there was no need for any fear about the depth of his commitment. His solid spirituality stood by him through the long sea and rail journey from London (via Cape Town) to Chisekesi and on to Chikuni, where he arrived early in September 1951, and during the months of learning Chitonga in the somewhat spartan conditions that then prevailed. And it never deserted him after he took vows in Chikuni on the feast of St. Stanislaus Kostka later that year. This gave Jim the remarkable distinction of being the only Irish Jesuit ever to take his First Vows in what today is Zambia. He reaffirmed his Jesuit commitment on 2nd February 1960 when he took his Final Vows, again at Chikuni.

Endowed with great practical intelligence, Jim brought into the Society a wide range of skills developed and exercised in the family's workshop not far from Tullamore. Construction, artistic brick-laying, carpentry, joinery, plumbing, electrical work – he took all of these in his stride, almost as if they were second nature to him, and yet he was always prepared to learn more from those who were more qualified than he was. Jim was also a gifted manager, with a flair for organising and getting the right people, with the right tools and equipment, into the right place at the right time. His ability to give directions simply and effectively, and his own manifest skills, helped greatly in building up confident teams of proficient and well-motivated building workers. Working with and through these, Jim became key to building-development in what was to become the Diocese of Monze. But in addition to the buildings that bear his stamp even today, Jim also left a great monument in the skills that he passed on to the local people with whom he worked. He was very particular that anything he turned his hand to should be of the highest quality and he always tried to make sure that his trainees and workers would also be concerned not just with getting a job done but with getting it done to the highest possible standards.

One of Jim's earliest assignments was to develop and run with Father Joe McCarthy the Civuna Trades Training Institute (TTI). In time, the TTI gave way to a secondary school for girls, but not before, under Jim, it had qualified several hundred first-rate carpenters and brick-layers who fanned out to bring building development across much of the southern part of Zambia. Later, when the Diocese of Monze was established, Jim became in effect its building manager, working closely with Fr. Fred Moriarty and others in the development of Kizito Catechetical Centre, churches, parish houses, schools, and houses for teachers and catechists.

In the strangely coincidental ways in which God's providence works, another Jesuit Brother from the Irish Province came to Zambia (then Northern Rhodesia) in 1952, one year after Jim's arrival in Chikuni. This was Pat McElduff who in his younger years had done some of his apprenticeship as a tradesman in Rahugh on the borders of Westmeath and Offaly where, in the years before he joined the Jesuits, Jim himself had been trained. The two knew each other from these early years and now they found themselves working together again, this time on a larger canvas. And almost after the manner of the Apostles Peter and Paul, building responsibilities were assigned to them in different ways: Jim became responsible for all projects that belonged to Monze Diocese, while Pat took on those that belonged to the Jesuits (or Chikuni Mission). As a result of this arrangement, for the last period of his life in Zambia, from 1960 to the time of his return to Ireland in 1974, Jim lived in what was to become the Bishop's house in Monze. While he was happy there and got on very well with Bishop Corboy and the rest of the community, at times he felt almost out of his depth and yearned for more interaction with the fellow-Jesuits he had lived with in earlier days. In the way of many quiet people, things sometimes got through to Jim, making him feel that bit down in himself. However, as a solid religious man, he would not let this interfere with his commitment as a hard working Jesuit but would eventually regain his equilibrium through his prayer, work, community involvement and, sometimes, rest and better physical health.

Jim was a very agreeable companion, one who was easy and enjoyable to live with. He was quiet in his manner but this did not stop him enjoying a game of cards, a good movie or the comradeship of a walk in the evening with one of the community. He was greatly loved by the Batonga people among whom he worked and is particularly remembered for the concern he showed that their marriages be happy and stable and that their children attend school. He showed special kindness and understanding towards Jesuit scholastics newly arrived in the country and was particularly attentive to their health needs; many a young Jesuit received gentle but firm admonitions from him about taking their anti-malaria medicines or wearing a hat until acclimatised to the sun.

Ironically, it was malaria that brought Jim's years in Zambia to a close. He contracted fever in days long before Artemesin or other drugs could provide powerful protection. Though frequently quite unwell, he continued with his work as best he could, but in time developed a recurrent form of malaria that was intractable to treatment. In the circumstances, the Holy Rosary Doctor-Sisters (Lucy O'Brien, Maureen O'Keeffe, Eileen Kane) advised that he return permanently to Ireland, because remaining in Zambia would always mean serious health problems for him.

So it was that after 23 years in Zambia, from 1951 to 1974, Jim returned to Ireland and was re-incorporated into the Irish Province. Until his mid-80s he was busy, a wonderful man to have on your side, practical and resourceful, moving where he was needed, always concerned about those around him; ever seeking perfection in anything undertaken by him or any of those for whom he was responsible; and always, simply always, a solid man of God, devoted and faithful to his religious duties, serving the God he loved through what he could still do, building up others through his sympathetic and understanding nature. Jim, sparing of speech, gentle and perceptive, contributed massively to the smooth running of the five Irish houses in which he served. These were not always the havens of peace one would like to imagine. Belvedere, where he was Minister for seven years, was a settled (I nearly wrote entrenched) community, hard-working but not easy to administer. If Jim was quiet, he was also alert, and concerned about everyone around him. From his sick bed in Cherryfield he would admire and appraise the craft of workmen in the building opposite. His regular greeting of How are you? was no formality. He wanted to know. No wonder he is missed. May God be good to this deeply spiritual Jesuit.

Michael J Kelly

Dunne, John A, 1944-2008, Jesuit priest

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

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

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Dunne SJ: funeral homily

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr John A Dunne (1944-2008)

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

Brian Grogan writes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2009

Obituary

John Dunne SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JAB SJ

Feeney, Peadar J, 1919-2000, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/596
  • Person
  • 13 May 1919-22 February 2000

Born: 13 May 1919, Galway City
Entered: 04 October 1937, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1951, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1954, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 22 February 2000, University Hospital, Galway

part of the Coláiste Iognáid, Galway community at the time of death

by 1979 at Manhattan Beach CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1986 at Santa Barbara CA, USA (CAL) working
by 1989 at Long Beach CA, USA (CA) working

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 105 : Special Edition 2000

Obituary

Fr Peter (Peadar) Feeney (1919-2000)

1919, May 13th Born in Galway
Early education, Patrician Brothers and St. Ignatius College, Galway
1937, Oct 4: Entered the Society at Emo
1939, Oct 5: First vows at Emo
1939 - 1942: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD
1942 - 1945: Tullabeg, studying philosophy
1945 - 1948: Clongowes, teacher, Cert. in Education
1948 - 1952: Milltown Park, studying theology
1951, July 31: Ordained priest at Milltown Park
1952 - 1953: Tertianship at Rathfarnham Castle
1953 - 1954: Gonzaga College, teaching
1954 - 1958: Clongowes, teaching, Dir. Dramatic Society
1958 - 1965: St. Ignatius, Galway, teaching, Rowing club
1965 - 1970: Clongowes, teaching, Dir. Dramatic Society
1970 - 1976: St, Ignatius, Galway, teaching, Games Master, Rowing Club
1976 - 1978: Belvedere, teaching
1978 - 1995: California, parish work
1955 - 2000: St. Ignatius, Galway, ministering in the community

Peadar was admitted to the University College Hospital, Galway, on 21st January. After surgery on 10th February his health continued to deteriorate. He died peacefully on 22nd February 2000, Feast of the See of Peter, aged 80.

Bob McGoran writes ...

Peadar Feeney and I entered the Society on the same day, October 4th 1937. We were pert of a group of six, who for various reasons arrived later than the usual September novices. I soon learnt that Peadar was a Galway city man, living only a stone's throw away from the Jesuit house. over the next few years I got to know his family well - father, mother, one brother and three sisters. My friendship with them continued over many years.

Peadar had many talents and abilities. Physically strong and hardy, he was an excellent oarsman, swimmer and diver. A fine Gaelic footballer, he had been selected for the Galway minor team. He was also a talented actor and had won various awards in Feiseanna and festivals at a national level. He had a fine tenor voice and he later became a fluent French and Spanish speaker. All of these stood him in good stead in his later work in the Colleges.

He spent almost thirty years of his life teaching in various colleges, especially Colaiste Iognáid and Clongowes. He was a strict teacher - possibly over strict. Not many of his pupils came up to the standard he expected of them. There was no doubt about his ability and knowledge of the subjects he taught : his more talented pupils invariably did well. But the poor progress of others often led to tension in the class-room.

Peadar was a happier person on the playing field or on the river. Here again, he expected a high level of dedication and application, He coached the rowing crews in Galway for a number of years with great success. An indication of this is given by one of the teachers whom I quote later on in this account.

Peadar's other great love was acting and the stage. His productions in both Clongowes and Galway were highly successful. In Clongowes, he was director in the Dramatic Society for the pupils for the two periods he was teaching there. In Galway a great deal of his leisure time was devoted to drama. He founded the highly successful Dominican and Ignatian Dramatic Society (the D&I) among adults, producing mostly Shakespearean and well-known plays such as “Macbeth”, “As you like it”, “The Barrets of Wimpole St.”, “Pride and Prejudice”, “Rebecca” and many others. He had a flair for discovering and developing talent in quite ordinary people and he insisted on high standards not only in the acting but in the staging, costumes and attention to detail. “Even a whisper” was one of his sayings “must be heard at the back of the hall”. Peadar was almost sixty years old when he felt the need to take a break from college life and seek a wider experience. Over the years, he had spent many Summer holidays helping in parishes in America. Now he felt the desire to go into full-time parish work there. He had become friendly with a Pastor in Manhattan beach in California who was glad to have him on a full-time basis. Peadar was very happy in this situation. However, when the Pastor was changed things were not working out so well. He got a change to Santa Barbara parish and a final assignment to Long Beach, a parish which was largely for Spanish-speaking people. Altogether he spent seventeen years in this Apostolate.

Peadar was a man of strong convictions and definite standards. In religious and spiritual matters he was an upholder of traditional values and practices. The liturgy was to be treated reverently, without undue haste. In church, his congregation - many of them daily Mass-goers - did not quite see eye to eye with him, but Peadar could not be budged from his principles, The Mass and the Breviary were sources of great strength to him and he was unfailingly faithful to them up to the time of his death.

At Peadar's funeral Mass, new ground was broken in the oration being delivered not by the usual S.J. but by one of the lay staff in the college, Mr Bernard O'Connell. Bernard had known Peadar for many years and grew particularly close to him in the period before his death. He spoke very eloquently of Peadar in both Irish and English. I finish this account with some short quotations from the sermon.

It was designed to be a five minute visit. Saturday afternoon afforded its usual tempting possibilities but having been sufficiently discommoded to visit a doctor about my back, I wasn't too inclined for temptation. It's a very strange sensation to talk to a dying man and hear him give you eminently sensible advice about your back and your health. But after the advice was proffered and duly accepted, discourse ensued. Five minutes became ninety. A conversation which concentrated on topics such as education, sport, music, the Coláiste, Galway and the call to the Society of Jesus was both rich and provocative

From his entrance into the Society of Jesus on October 4th 1937, Peadar set the highest standards both for himself and others. Meeting him on the Prom on vacation from the States he would despair at the state of the bay. He'd ask you directly what were you going to do about it? Not much, as it happened. But I did admire that righteous indignation of his. About Peadar's prowess as a rowing coach I admired the man that brought a Jes senior crew with just one sixth year aboard to within half a canvas of the Maiden Championship of Ireland in 1974. The winning Garda crew later beat its own senior crew that season. Subsequently, the Guards won the Petite Final at the Olympics and were timed fourth fastest in the world. And Peadar's fifth year lads nearly beat them.

Bob McGoran SJ

◆ The Clongownian, 2000

Obituary

Father Peadar Feeney SJ

Fr Peadar Feeney was three times a member of the Clongowes community and staff. He taught here as a scholastic between 1945 and 1948. He returned after ordination in 1954 for four years as teacher and director of drama and he repeated this dual role for a further spell from 1965 until 1970. He had been in California engaged in parish work from 1978 until five years before his death, when he came back to the St Ignatius community in his native Galway, where he died peacefully in University College Hospital on 22 February 2000, at the age of 80.

Fitzgerald, Kyran J, 1922-1997, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/504
  • Person
  • 03 March 1922-07 May 1997

Born: 03 March 1922, Waterford City, County Waterford
Entered: 07 September 1940, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 29 July 1954, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 05 September 1977, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 07 May 1997, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 92 : August 1996

Obituary

Fr Kyran Fitzgerald (1922-1997)

3rd Mar. 1922: Born in Waterford
Early education: Waterpark College and Clongowes Wood College.
7th Sept. 1940: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1942: First Vows at Emo
1942 - 1945: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD
1945 - 1948: Tullabeg, Studying Philosophy
1948 - 1951: Clongowes, teaching Cl. Cert in Education
1951 - 1955: Milltown Park, studying Theology
29th July 1954: Ordained priest at Milltown Park
1955 - 1956: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1956 - 1961: Clongowes, teaching
1961 - 1968: Mungret College, teaching
1968 - 1970: College of Industrial Relations, studying Psychology at UCD
1970 - 1971: Galway, teaching & Career Guidance
1971 - 1986: Gonzaga, teaching & Career Guidance work ('71-'85)
1985 - 1986: Sabbatical
1986 - 1991: Chaplain, Lansdowne Road N. Home Subsequently listed as "assistant librarian" "writer".

Homily at Funeral Mass of Fr. Kyran Fitzgerald

We have come together this morning for Mass, to celebrate the eucharist: to remember with gratitude, with sorrow and with concern the passover of Christ in the first place, but today the passover also of Kyran. Doing this in memory of him, breaking together the Bread of the Word and the Bread of the Eucharist, we give thanks for the life and work of Jesus of Nazareth, for his suffering death and resurrection which, as the Creed puts it, were for us and for our salvation. But in that gratitude today we give special place to Kyran as a priest of the Society of Jesus. We give thanks for his life of self-sacrifice as a faithful Jesuit religious, a life which started long ago in 1940 when soon after the beginning of the London Blitz we both went as novices to Emo Park near Portarlington; we give thanks for his ministry as a devoted teacher of History and of Latin not only in Gonzaga but previously in Clongowes, Mungret and Galway, especially for his pioneering work as a career guidance counsellor: he was one of the founding members of that profession in this country; we give thanks too for his great capacity for friendship, for his gleaming eye and sense of humour, for his winning way with young people, for his love of fun and games and of celebrations such as the great party which - with so much thoughtfulness and imagination - the Matron of Cherryfield gave for him recently on the occasion of his 75th birthday.

As well as giving thanks at Mass we are sorry and ask forgiveness firstly of course for our ungratefulness and unfaithfulness in our following of Christ but in our sorrow at today's Mass we include and ask forgiveness for our failure to love Kyran as much as we should have, our failure to recognize and appreciate to the full all that he was by God's grace. He was a real charmer, brilliant in conversation skillful in argument and debate, patient and courageous and hopeful in suffering (as the first reading recalled so beautifully and so appositely), wide and catholic in the scope of his interests and strong in his convictions but tolerant, benignly tolerant with those of us who were unable to go along with all his views, political or theological, or unable to match his skill at bridge. And although he once loved to play a card game called 'Spite and Malice' and of course to win and therefore to beat you and to enjoy winning and beating you, there was in Kyran not the slightest trace of any spite or malice. He was innocent of all unkindness and uncharitablness. For our failure to appreciate to the full all these and other spiritual gifts, all these and other signs of God's goodness and grace we ask Kyran's forgiveness at this Mass.

But the eucharist, our Mass, expresses not only our gratitude and our sorrow but also our concern, our concern for the salvation of God's world, so we make intercession for God's people and in that intercession today we naturally give pride of place to Kyran's relatives, to his sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews and extended family, to his Jesuit confreres, to all those whose interests he had and still has so much at heart: asking the Holy Spirit to come and comfort and console us. A special memento is of course owing to Dr. Joe Martin and to the Matron of Cherryfield, Nurse Mary Ryan and all her staff: they took exquisite care of him in his last years and in that way made all the more real for Kyran God's own loving care of him.

For me it is a special comfort and consolation that we are burying Kyran on what is in Ireland the Vigil of the Feast of the Ascension and that Wednesday last, the day he died, was the Vigil of the Ascension in most of the rest of the Christian world. There is, as I tried to tell him on Wednesday afternoon, a certain appropriateness in dying at Ascensiontide when we celebrate what was for Jesus the end of his earthly existence and his return to the Father in Heaven. Above all the Ascension reminds us of the great mystery enshrined in the last article of our Creed: “I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sin, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting”,

This mystery is hard to take, hard to stomach as the fourth gospel puts it with reference to the related mystery of the eucharist - the bread of immortality. It is mind-blowing, mind-boggling and we are all, each and every one of us, only too conscious of our hesitations and uncertainties, of our unbelief. But it is perhaps communities who believe rather than mere individuals and the Christian Community's sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, as expressed at Mass, in today's Mass especially, is therefore a great comfort to us in our own personal unbelief. We find our hearts strangely warmed by the Church's confident faith in the next life, in the after-life, in life with God, in everlasting life in the heavenly places where, as St. Paul tells the Corinthians, (1 Cor 15:42-54), our corruptible bodies will be mysteriously clothed with incorruption and immortality and glory and power.

When I was saying Mass last Wednesday evening shortly after visiting Kyran just two hours before he died and with him especially in mind, the epistle for the day was taken from St. Luke's account in the 17th chapter of Acts, of St Paul's speech to the Athenians in which he had proclaimed the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. Verse 32 read “at this mention of rising from the dead, some of them burst out laughing”. Still today, perhaps even more so today and not only in Athens but everywhere, belief in the other world and in the last article of the Creed is just laughable, an idea to be dismissed with a laugh. For too many people the parameters and perspectives of their lives are very much this-worldly: getting and spending we lay vast our powers; a materialism and consumerism which puts things before people is too pervasive. Death makes such a life style very questionable: for those of us with any vestige of belief it is a salutary reminder that life may begin but hardly ends here below.

According to the Christian faith of the Church, life for Kyran is now changed not ended. He has completed his baptism into the death and resurrection of Christ, he has entered his promised inheritance and his joy none can now ever take from him. He has been warmly welcomed into Paradise not only by the choirs of angels and saints and by the Blessed Trinity but also by the members of his own family to whom he was always so devoted and whose photos were so prominent in his room: his mother and father, his beloved sister Peggy, and his distinguished brothers Oliver, Paddy, Gerald and Alexis. He will also have been warmly welcomed by the many friends who have gone before him marked with the sign of faith and not least, if I may say so, by our mutual friend, John Mulligan, with whom we both spent many an enjoyable holiday and with whom it will no doubt give Kyran special pleasure to discuss again the evolving political situation not only in these islands but all over the world.

We can no longer see or touch or hear Kyran but he is none the less close to us. The visible and tangible and audible is only a very small part of reality. Kyran has become part of the more vast, invisible universe and paradoxically but truly become even closer to us, because no longer subject to the limitations of life here below, the limitations of time and space. He has passed on, passed over, passed out of this world into the peace of heaven. We pray for him that he may rest in peace but only because we know that the rest and peace of heaven are not by any means to be equated with inactivity and indifference.

Shalom, the peace of heaven, is life, life in all its fullness and vibrancy, eternal life. As Jesus ascended into heaven 'on our behalf (Hebrews 6:20), 'for our good', 'to prepare a place' (In 14:2) for us, to give us hope, to send us the Spirit as a foretaste and promise here and now of the liberation and joy of the hereafter, so Kyran has gone before us not to abandon us but to prepare a place for us, not to forget us but to pray for us and indeed not only for us but for the whole Church and the whole world and the whole Society of Jesus. In Heaven, like Jesus and with Jesus, he now lives for ever to make intercession for us, to send down on us the Spirit who renews the face of the earth and the face of the Church; he has gone before us so that where he is we also may be: with him in our Father's house where there are many rooms.

And now what he is probably trying to say to us is what, according to St Luke (Acts 1:11), the Angels said to the disciples just after the Ascension: why are you standing around here, hanging about here, looking up into the sky, into heaven, star gazing? Kyran would surely want us to do as the disciples did in response to those reprimanding words of the Angels after Jesus left them; he would want us after the funeral to go back home full of joy, our hearts burning within us, to praise God and to be witnesses to the resurrection in our daily lives.

Michael Hurley, SJ

◆ The Clongownian, 1997

Obituary

Father Kyran Fitzgerald SJ

Kyran Fitzgerald was born in Waterford in 1922 and came to Clongowes after attending Waterpark. His Jesuit studies, on which he entered immediately after school followed the then standard course of novitiate at Emo, uni versity studies at Rathfarnham Castle, philoso phy at Tullabeg, regency and theology at Milltown Park, ending with tertianship at Rathfarnham Castle. Kyran's regency con sisted in a three-year teaching stint as a scholastic in his old school, 1948-51.

Following ordination in 1954, he returned here to teach for another five years, 1956-61. He taught at Mungret until 1968 and then stud ied psychology at UCD, where he had taken his Arts degree, to prepare himself for the work of career guidance to which he devoted the next fifteen years of his life, first in Galway for a year and then in Gonzaga. After a sabbatical year, he spent the last years of his active min istry as chaplain to a nursing home and helping in various capacities in the community.

By 1991, Parkinson's Disease, the ravages of which he bore with remarkable patience and courage, made it impossible for him to con tinue working. He died in the Jesuit infirmary at Cherryfield on May 7 1997.

Gallagher, Michael Paul, 1939-2015, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/841
  • Person
  • 25 August 1939-06 November 2015

Born: 25 August 1939, Dublin
Entered: 08 October 1961, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 23 June 1972, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows; 02 February 1978, University Hall SJ, Dublin
Died: 06 November 2015, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Raised in Collooney, County Sligo
Part of the Loyola, Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1964 at Campion Hall, Oxford (ANG) studying
by 1966 at Heythrop, Oxford (ANG) studying
by 1969 at Johns Hopkins, Baltimore MD, USA - studying
by 1986 at Toronto, Canada (CAN S) Sabbatical
by 1991 at Bellarmino, Rome, Italy (DIR) Sec to Congregation for Unbelief
by 2001 at Gesù, Rome, Italy (DIR) teaching at Gregorian

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/death-of-fr-michael-paul-gallagher-sj/

Death of Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Fr Michael Paul Gallagher SJ died last night (Friday 6 November) in St Vincent’s Private Hospital, just after the anointing of the sick and prayers with three Jesuit friends. He had been ill for some months. He was a native of Colooney, Co.Sligo. He received his secondary education at Clongowes Wood College. After joining the Jesuits he did special studies in Renaissance literature in Oxford, Michael Paul was a renowned lecturer and author of books on faith and contemporary culture. He lectured in English in UCD for over ten years in the 1970s and 80s before going to Rome, where he lectured in theology in the Gregorian University. He was also a valued contributor, for many years, to the well-known Jesuit publication The Sacred Heart Messenger. His latest article on ‘The Prospect of Dying’ is in the current issue. Shortly before his death he recorded a series of short videos for the Jesuit Guide to Making Good Decisions. He also wrote the text for an online Advent Retreat, shortly to be published on the Jesuit prayer website Sacred Space and on the Pray-As-You-Go podcast prayer website of the Jesuits in Britain. His book Into Extra Time, an account of his path of faith through illness, will soon be published by Darton, Longman and Todd/Messenger Publications. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/the-long-learning-of-love-m-p-gallagher-rip/

‘The long learning of love’
Jesuits, family and friends have been paying tribute to Michael Paul Gallagher SJ, who passed away on Friday 6 November. His friend and fellow Jesuit Donal Neary presided at the reception of his remains in Milltown Park Chapel on Monday evening. He spoke of the contribution Michael Paul made to the many people with whom he came in contact including the students he taught in University College Dublin who felt free enough to call in for coffee and a chat with him. So too did their parents who were often concerned that their beloved children were losing their faith. Michael Paul, he said, would reassure them that the love and concern they had for their adult children was the real lasting kind of support their children needed as they struggled with important questions of doubt and faith. He said his first book Help My Unbelief, published in 1983, made a real impact on the cultural landscape as a substantial contribution to the understanding of issues of faith in modern times. On Tuesday at 11am a large number of people filled the pews in Milltown Chapel, where Michael Paul had requested his funeral mass take place. (Listen to the mass here). They were invited by the main celebrant Jim Culliton SJ to “engage in celebrating the life of an extraordinary man, a man of great intellect, heart and warmth”. He said even inevitable death, (for Michael Paul was terminally ill and knew he was dying) was awful, raising many troubling questions. But the answers came, he said, when he thought about the kind of life Michael Paul lived, the reflections he offered in his writings and lectures, the impact he made in the courses and retreats he gave. “He was a fiercely loyal servant of all those whom he loved, fiercely proud of his Sligo roots, and proud of being an Irish Jesuit.”
In the homily Bruce Bradley SJ, spoke of the man he first met in 1962. He said he was someone who was gifted in “intuiting and imagining the horizons of others, inviting them in turn to share his”. He said the renowned author “did not take himself too seriously but he was aware and quietly proud of some of his own gifts and accomplishments”, adding with a smile, “Perhaps with just some of the small harmless vanity you occasionally meet with in an only child”. He said Michael Paul was impressive in how he faced his impending death with “clear-eyed courage and a lack of self-absorption”.

He book-ended his tribute with a moving story about his final meeting with Michael Paul just two weeks previously to the day. Having spent some precious time together and as he was leaving, he accompanied Michael Paul to the community chapel at mass time. Michael Paul dipped his hand in the holy water font and made the sign of the cross on his own forehead. “Then in a spontaneous gesture I will never forget, the made the same sign of the cross on my forehead too.” And he quoted from some of his final writings or ‘fragments’ as he called them, published in The Sacred Heart Messenger, where Michael Paul described his life as “The long learning of love”, adding, “ When I am close to death there may be weakness and distress. But I hope then to have the freedom to surrender into the arms of God so dying can be a prayerful letting go.” His three Jesuit friends (Donal Neary, Jim Culliton and Liam O’Connell) who were with him when he died peacefully at 11 pm on Friday, all attest that this is exactly what they witnessed, a dying that was indeed ‘a prayerful letting go’.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/messenger-of-wonder-and-wonderful-messenger/

Messenger of wonder and wonderful messenger
Early in his rich and varied teaching career, the gifted Irish Jesuit, Fr. Michael Paul Gallagher, who died last Friday (6th November 2015) at the age of 76, used to give an introductory course to students of English literature in University College Dublin. At a certain point, he liked to write these three intriguing words on the blackboard: “ha”, “aha”, and “ah”. He made his students sit up and think by claiming that these three strange sounds stood not only for the three basic approaches toward literature, but also for the three fundamental stances toward human life as a whole. He asked them not to fall into the trap of arriving too quickly at judgments, to be careful not to rush hastily into uttering a smug and even contemptuous “ha”, before they even took the trouble to experience and understand things properly. He then pronounced the second sound – “aha” – with a rising rhythm, to make audible the moment when we understand something. He told them how college was meant to be full of these “aha” moments, as they learned new things and discovered new insights. But, then, looking solemnly at his audience, Fr. Michael Paul would warn them not to become so excited by their “aha” moments that they ended up stifling the deepest and most central experience of all – the experience of wonder, the “ah” experience. Michael Paul Gallagher brought a liberating “ah” of fresh air to individual Irish people, to the Irish Church, and, later, through his work in the Vatican and at the Pontifical Gregorian University, to countless students and Catholics from around the world. He was a messenger of wonder and a wonderful messenger of God. He had an uncanny gift for helping people to reach the threshold of wonder in their lives, to get in touch with their deepest hungers and desires. He invited them to open new doors into the mystery of themselves, and to discover a God who was much more loving than they had dared imagine.
Born in 1939 in the village of Collooney, County Sligo [born in Dublin, raised in Sligo], he credited it with shaping his feelings and imagination, and was always grateful for the stability and roots this village world gave him. Precisely because it was such a reassuring anchor, it gave him the leeway to broaden his horizons as time went on. At the age of twelve he was sent to the Jesuit boarding school Clongowes. From there he went to UCD, and after finishing his degree in English and French literature, was awarded a grant from the French government to study at the University of Caen Normandy from 1960 to 1961. The year in France was a turning point in his life. Although the Second Vatican Council would only open in 1962, there was already great excitement and new life palpable in French Catholicism. Michael Paul met young French Catholics who were passionate about their faith, who read the Bible, prayed in nearby monasteries, and invited notable French philosophers and theologians to address them. He also met significant numbers of agnostics and atheists for the first time in his life. Over the course of many long conversations that went on late into the night, he found he had a gift for explaining faith in a new and fresh language, not the technical jargon of abstract arguments, but the living poetry of personal discovery.
After returning from Caen, he entered the Jesuits, with a sense that he was being called to help people discover the wonder of faith in a world where unbelief was in the ascendant. When he completed his two- year novitiate, he was sent to Oxford to study Renaissance literature. While there, he began to realize that despite the distance some of his fellow students felt from faith, the language of poetry opened up for them an avenue into wonder and their inner experience. Over the years ahead, he began to form the conviction that doctrine alone was not enough to speak to people; like Jesus, who used parables, Michael Paul found himself drawn to an imaginative presentation of faith, drawing on the resources of literature.
From his Jesuit formation, Michael Paul learned how to find and trust the hidden poetry in himself, and this skill enabled him in his turn to help others to liberate their human depths. He realised that his surface self was driven toward performing and being successful. From childhood onwards, he had wanted to do well and make his parents proud of him, and so excelled in academic studies as well as drama and debating. But as well as this “performer” side to himself, at a deeper level he felt at home with the wonder of being a “child”, he was happy to trust his feelings, to allow himself to be playful, and to reach out to others without pushing himself to perform in order that they would like him. He made a sustained and conscious effort to live out of the deeper level of himself. When he became aware of surface desires and immature responses, he knew he was out of tune with himself. He picked up the warning signs through a certain sense of dissatisfaction and emptiness. He countered this gnawing surface self by re-tuning into the deeper and more serene wavelength inside, where he lived from a satisfying rootedness together with a great openness of vision. Because his experience of prayer and discernment taught him to be aware of the dangers of this false, performing, “impressing everyone” side to himself, he was particularly well equipped to help others go beyond the surface self and find that deeper peace to help them negotiate the challenges of life.
Michael Paul was ordained to the priesthood in 1972. Afterwards he continued to lecture in English at UCD, and also researched the phenomenon of atheism and how churches and pastoral workers were responding to it. As a result of this research he became the first Roman Catholic ever to be awarded a doctorate in theology by Queen’s University, Belfast.
In 1974 he published a controversial article, “Atheism Irish Style”. At a time when the general consensus held that Irish Catholicism was in a thoroughly healthy state, Fr. Michael Paul alarmed many by suggesting that it was actually dying a slow death. He claimed that Irish Catholics (most of all young Irish Catholics) were becoming increasingly disillusioned with many of the externals of church life – religion taught impersonally or in an authoritarian manner in school, dull Sunday rituals, and boring sermons. Although a huge emphasis was placed upon attendance at Mass, the actual practice of it was spiritually impoverished with little prayerfulness, no sense of living worship, and no real attempt to create a human community. The article and subsequent talks and interviews generated huge discussion and debate.
Less than 10 years later, in 1983, he published his first, and most famous book, Help My Unbelief, aimed at readers who were bewildered at why God was becoming so unreal for them. His focus was not on intellectual arguments for or against God, because he did not believe this was where the real story was. He concentrated instead on dispositions and basic attitudes. He was wise enough to know that people do not make decisions about faith upon purely rational grounds. Our decisions for or against faith generally involve a strong sense of how we feel about ourselves and life. He gave the example of a college student who came into his office to discuss an essay, but suddenly announced in an aggressive tone, “I’m an atheist, you know.” When Michael Paul ignored this declaration, and continued to give him feedback on his essay, the student asked, “Isn’t it your job to convert me?” Michael Paul responded, “I wouldn’t dream of converting anyone in that tone of voice”, and went on to say that faith was so precious to him that he would not even consider indulging in a useless argument about it. But if the student were willing to listen, he would be more than happy at some other time to explain what faith meant for him. Sure enough, the student returned a few days later. He spoke about this and that for a while, before suddenly announcing, “I suffer from asthma.” And then he went on to share how asthma had destroyed his childhood because it had cut him off from other people, made him ashamed, and angry at God and at life. This story taught Michael Paul something crucial: behind many aggressive denials of faith (“I’m an atheist”) there can be a much less aggressive reality of hurt and disenchantment (“I suffer from asthma”).
In 1990, Michael Paul was invited to work in the Holy See’s Pontifical Council for Dialogue with Non- Believers. Five years later he began teaching theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, where he later became Dean of Theology as well as Rector of the large “Bellarmino” community of Jesuit graduate students. Despite his teaching and the big burden of administration, he somehow found time to write, give talks, and listen to many young individuals, helping them to enter into a space of freedom they often did not know they had. In terms of his own writing, he began to see himself more and more as a “translator”, translating the insights of major theologians into a language that honest, educated, non-specialised searchers could understand. Michael Paul read through countless books in a way that was faithful to those who hadn’t the time or energy to read such books. He tried to carry out his academic work in tune with Christ’s compassion for all seekers and searchers.
When Michael Paul was hit by cancer for the second time in January 2015, he was faithful to his lifelong practice of applying the lessons he learned from his own struggles for the benefit of others. He reflected upon his illness and wrote down his reflections. His final book, about his own journey through cancer, Into Extra Time, is due to be published soon. In this month’s Sacred Heart Messenger, he has an article called “The Prospect of Dying”. Its final paragraph encapsulates the graced imagination that always enabled Fr. Michael Paul Gallagher to see seeds of hope in what at first looks like a burnt-out desert:
“The outer process of dying may be frightening, but do I really want to stay here forever? If I listen to my heart, I know I am made for more life than I can imagine. When God’s promise overcomes my fears, what St. Paul calls the ‘last enemy’ becomes an unexpected friend.”
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam uasal.
This article was published in The Irish Catholic, 12th November, 2015

https://www.jesuit.ie/books/wisdom-at-the-crossroads/

Wisdom at the Crossroads
Author: Thomas G. Casey SJ Publisher: Messenger Publications

Wisdom at the Crossroads: The Life and Thought of Michael Paul Gallagher SJ follows the journey of this gifted Jesuit priest, theologian, author and educator from the simplicity of an Irish rural childhood to the more complex world he soon encountered. That changing world prompted him to think deeply about the question of faith in our times, the effects of a shifting culture on our perceptions, and the challenge of unbelief and atheism as it manifests itself today. It illuminates Michael Paul’s rare gift – both in personal conversation and in the written word – of helping people to move from a detached consideration of faith to an awareness of what was deepest in their own hearts, for it was from that hidden layer of wonder that he believed the journey of faith could unfold.
The early part of the book covers the first forty years of Michael Paul’s life. This includes a description of his hometown of Collooney in Co. Sligo which the Jesuit was able to recall most vividly upon a return visit with Italian friends many years later. He attended Clongowes Wood College SJ in his early years and studied at UCD and in Caen, France, as a university student. After entering the Jesuit novitiate, Michael Paul studied poetry in Oxford and philosophy in London. Some of his other key experiences during these years included lecturing and further studies; the Charismatic Renewal; work in Kolkata; and the formation of young Jesuits.
Later, Fr Gallagher’s direct dealing with unbelief is explored culminating in the Jesuit’s first and most famous book, Help My Unbelief, aimed at readers who were bewildered at why God was becoming so unreal for them. He continued to write many books including Faith Maps which outlined how three dimensions of faith – the institutional, the critical, and the mystical – correspond to the three ages in life – childhood, youth, and adulthood. He pondered where people were at in terms of the dimensions and ages, encouraging them to ask searching and critical questions about their faith.
Michael Paul loved the culture of the theatre and cinema, but more importantly he appreciated culture as ‘the set of meanings and values that informs a way of life’. In this regard, he spent a year in Latin America where he befriended a seminarian named Eliseo who showed him that faith was not a private matter between God and himself; it was something that was alive in a shared way. Furthermore, although Michael Paul didn’t personally experience Irish Catholicism as repressive, he was aware that for many people of his generation it was associated with a petty vision, confined largely to external rules and narrow moralism. He was in touch with the culture of the people.
Of the seven chapters in this book, it would be worth referring to the sense of wonder in chapter five. Michael Paul loved to communicate the experience of wonder, the ‘ah’ experience to his many students. The author notes that he had a disarming gift for helping people to reach the threshold of wonder in their lives. On one occasion, Fr Gallagher spoke with a former student who struggled to believe in a God who was out of touch with his new passion for science. As the conversation continued, the former student began to think that he wasn’t as far away from faith as he had imagined. He began to wonder about faith in a fresh way, a on to others.

https://www.jesuit.ie/books/into-extra-time-2/

Into Extra Time
Author: Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Publisher: Messenger Publications
Michael Paul Gallagher’s book, ‘Into Extra Time – Jottings Along The Way’, is an account of his path of faith through illness and facing death. In Michael Paul’s own words from the preface:-
“The opening words of the Introduction spoke of my path towards death as highly probable. Now several months later death is certain, a question of months. The story of treatment, remission and then return of more than one zone of cancer is told in the second section of this book. As time has gone on, I often wondered why I was publishing such a personal narrative. It started as a diary for myself, trying to explore my experience of illness. Then I began to think it could be of help to others. But I also fear it could inflate my own fairly ordinary adventure, and I ask forgiveness from those who may find it too self-centred or too pious. It tries to tell the story of a believer going through stages of cancer. If it offers some spiritual light on others in such times of struggle, that justifies it for me. ”
Michael Paul Gallagher SJ died on 6 November 2015.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 162 : Winter 2015

Obituary

Fr Michael Paul Gallagher (1939-2015)

26 August 1939 : Born in Dublin. Raised in Collooney, Co. Sligo.
Early Education at Collooney NS; Clongowes Wood College SJ; UCD
8 October 1961: Entered Society at St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
9 October 1963: First Vows at St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
1963 - 1965: Oxford, UK - Studying for B Litt at Campion Hall
1965 - 1967: Chipping Norton, UK - Studying Philosophy at Heythrop College
1967 - 1968: Loyola - Regency: Lecturer in English at UCD
1968 - 1969: Baltimore, MD, USA - Research Fellow at Johns Hopkins University
1969 - 1975: Milltown Park - Studying Theology
23 June 1972: Ordained at Gonzaga Chapel, Milltown Park, Dublin
1973: Lecturer in English at UCD; Doctoral Studies in Theology at QUB
1975 - 1978: University Hall - Vice Superior; Lecturer in English at UCD
1976: Tertianship in Bangalore, India
2 February 1978: Final Vows at University Hall, Hatch Street, Dublin
1978 - 1986: John Sullivan, Monkstown – Doctoral Studies; Co ordinator for Atheism; Lecturer in English at UCD
1980: Rector of John Sullivan House
1981: Province Consultor; Assists in Tabor
1986 - 1987: Sabbatical in Latin America
1987 - 1990: Rutilio Grande - Superior; Lecturer in English at UCD; Formation Delegate; Co-ordinator for Atheism
1990 - 1992: Bellarmino, Rome, Italy - Pontifical Council for Dialogue with Non-believers
1992 - 1993: San Saba Parish, Rome - Pontifical Council for Dialogue with Non-believers
1993 - 1995: Gesù, Rome, Italy -- Pontifical Council for Dialogue with Non-believers
1995 - 1999: Leeson St – Faith & Culture Apostolate; Writer; Lecturer in Theology at Gregorian, Rome (Sem I)
1999 - 2000: Loyola - Faith & Culture Apostolate; Writer; Lecturer in Theology at Gregorian, Rome (Sem I)
2000 - 2009: Rome, Italy - Writer; Professor of Fundamental Theology at Gregorian University
2005: Dean of Theology at Gregorian University
2009 - 2015: Bellarmino, Rome, Italy - Rector; Emeritus Professor of Fundamental Theology at Gregorian University
2015: Loyola - Writer

On a visit home for a conference in January 2015, Michael Paul realised that he needed to see his doctors again, as he was feeling unwell. So began another battle with cancer, and following various treatments, he enjoyed a good period of remission through the summer months. He remained in contact with his wide circle of friends and continued to write. In September further treatment was required, which did not agree with him, and he entered a period of palliative care. He became quite unwell and went into St Vincent's hospital on Monday, 2 November. His condition deteriorated through the week, and on Friday he began to fade significantly. He died very peacefully on Friday night in the presence of his community and some Jesuit friends, having just received the Sacrament of the sick.

In memory of Michael Paul - A letter of thanksgiving

Brendan Staunton

Dear Michael Paul,

You were a Renaissance man who understood the modem world. The world Vatican II addressed as a friend, not a foe, in Gaudium et Spes; a first in the history of 21 Councils. You too, being a child of Vatican 2, moved from the ad intra to the ad extra, married them, and generated fresh faith.

You played brilliantly many a role: teacher, lecturer, writer, spiritual director, retreat giver, administrator, Vatican delegate, Dean of Theology, Jesuit Superior and Rector, formation work, film critic. I could go on, but you were not only a role. Your mission included many friends and family with whom you shared the joys and sorrows, the griefs and anxieties. Your loss will be felt by many for a while to come.

We go back a long way: as a young and naive philosophy student you invited me to give a talk in University Hall, on culture. I shrink now recalling the shallowness of my reflections then. But a seed was sown, and this year alone I spoke on Faith and Culture to the Down and Connor priests in Dromalis; the Tuam Diocesan priests and bishop in Westport; at Dublin's Culture Night in the Pro Cathedral.

Also spoke at the Hopkins festival in Newbridge and attended the Hopkins weekend in Oxford. Your lectures in UCD on Joyce still bearing fruit! And how you opened up Joyce's humorous observations, lively language and bittersweet memories of Jesuit Schools. When we talked after the Hopkins weekend, memories of your time in Oxford were evoked, and how we laughed at the academic follies.

I recall fondly your time with us as Tertians in Tullabeg. I shredded all my notebooks two years later, except four pages of your wisdom sayings. I recall now off the top of my head,”priests today need to be bi-lingual”. Spirituality and Psychology; Art and Spirituality, Faith and Culture; Poetry and Theology. Newman's thinking on Imagination a constant, key theme for you, from which I benefited hugely.

Writing this, the day following your death, after teary phone calls, the sadness is with me still. The memories are so warın though. Especially the times you helped me find the words for growing pains crying within me. (A gift I also received from another Gallagher, Cormac.)

Most memorably, an evening walk around the Pantheon, when you bought a particular coffee to be brought home to Donal Neary. That night, you spoke to me about Charles Taylor, who hit the nail on the head. I may have been "flourishing", but a lack lingered. I had grown beyond “psychology”, after 30 years in a psychoanalytic world; London and Klein, Dublin and Lacan. And more than ten years on the couch. Still appreciate Freud for the genius he was, but the Ignatian ideal was into something more. Our talk that night returned me to a Spiritual Director, and a retrieval of formal prayer that had been neglected. The Martha had forgotten the Mary; doing good and avoiding God. Sure, I still prayed, vocal prayers, petitionary prayers, prayers of praise, liturgical prayer, but very little time given to tuning in the Holy Spirit praying within me. That indwelling presence that echoes unconscious, manifested in dreams. “I think where I am not”. You loosened that bond for many, as Tom Casey's exarnple in his glowing Irish Catholic tribute shows; the student declaring himself an atheist, and it emerging from the way he was listened to, that his asthma suffering was there.

Remember you saying the “Jesuits were founded in bed”?! The Ignatian genius was to take his subjectivity seriously, attending to the emotional vicissitudes he was experiencing while recovering from his wound. (What we now call Cognitive Behaviour Therapy), He was ahead of his time, embracing pagan humanism.

You were such a great host in the Bellarmino. Your flowing fluent Italian was beautiful - brought out the poet in you - as was your care for all your Community, over a hundred students and staff from four continents. And yet you had time for me, with your listening attitude and ability not to understand too quickly. Remember some of our anger in Tertianship? Your insight has stayed with me: “spiritual maturity is accepting not being understood by Authority”! (Later I learned you heard that from Kolvenbach, who got it from Gabriel Marcel?)

I was chuffed when you told me the title of a recent book, Faith Maps, came to you as I talked about the story of painting as a map and metaphor to contextualise faith, for the generation of our nephews and nieces, for whom Tridentinism was so uncool. For people who think Vatican II is the Pope's summer residence! Or for young people who think the four evangelists are John, Paul, Ringo and George!! I recall your enthusiasm when we first heard Bridge over troubled waters": "first song in the history of pop music that sings of desire more than need”, reaching out to an other.

I was delighted you came to my golden jubilee and 70th birthday last May in Gonzaga, where we were ordained. And so good to meet you at Bill Mathew's jubilee last month too. Little did we know on that joyous occasion what lay ahead for you. I can't imagine the pain of these last three weeks. Your legacy will last, I've no doubt about that: verba volant, scripta manent!
And now I imagine you enjoying the company of Rahner, Lonergan and Von Balthazar. You saw early on that their theological style was a function of their historical period. You now too are seeing face-to-face the vision of Gods' glory. And no one deserves that more than you. It is so consoling to know you will be praying for me and us.

I don't forget all the hidden goodness of your good life. Did you not write Joe Dargan's 'Our Mission in Ireland'? Put Joe's sociological prose into English!

Your life was an open book, and hidden with Christ in God. Yeats County certainly bore fruit from UCD to the Greg, and for this I thank you and God for you. You are now, to quote a hero of yours, the Bard of Avon, “one of precious friends, hid in death's dateless night”.
And the light you shone is truly a holy one. You were a spiritual master for our season, where “symbols clashed”, and the unrecognised presence of culture was recognised by you, and shown to be a friend rather than the foe of faith.

You once quoted Merton to me: “our greatest fear is a fear of depth”. Ignatius is proud of you! You found God in culture. Thanks to Newman and the other giants you identified with through your generous and open response to your Jesuit calling. Would I be reviewing films for the Messenger now, had you not pioneered that work for Studies?
LDS.
In Xto,
Brendan

Messenger of wonder and wonderful messenger

Tom Casey

Early in his rich and varied teaching career, the gifted Irish Jesuit, Fr. Michael Paul Gallagher, who died on 6th November at the age of 76, used to give an introductory course to students of English literature in University College Dublin. At a certain point, he liked to write these three intriguing words on the blackboard: “ha”, “aha”, and “ah”. He made his students sit up and think by claiming that these three strange sounds stood not only for the three basic approaches toward literature, but also for the three fundamental stances toward human life as a whole.

He asked them not to fall into the trap of arriving too quickly at judgments, to be careful not to rush hastily into uttering a smug and even contemptuous “ha”, before they even took the trouble to experience and understand things properly. He then pronounced the second sound – “aha” – with a rising rhythm, to make audible the moment when we understand something. He told them how college was meant to be full of these “aha” moments, as they learned new things and discovered new insights. But, then, looking solemnly at his audience, Fr. Michael Paul would warn them not to become so excited by their “aha” moments that they ended up stifling the deepest and most central experience of all - the experience of wonder, the “ah” experience.

Michael Paul Gallagher brought a liberating “ah” of fresh air to individual Irish people, to the Irish Church, and, later, through his work in the Vatican and at the Pontifical Gregorian University, to countless students and Catholics from around the world. He was a messenger of wonder and a wonderful messenger of God. He had an uncanny gift for helping people to reach the threshold of wonder in their lives, to get in touch with their deepest hungers and desires. He invited them to open new doors into the mystery of themselves, and to discover a God who was much more loving than they had dared imagine.

Born in 1939 in the village of Collooney, County Sligo, he credited it with shaping his feelings and imagination, and was always grateful for the stability and roots this village world gave him. Precisely because it was such a reassuring anchor, it gave him the leeway to broaden his horizons as time went on. At the age of twelve he was sent to the Jesuit boarding school Clongowes. From there he went to UCD, and after finishing his degree in English and French literature, was awarded a grant from the French government to study at the University of Caen Normandy from 1960 to 1961. The year in France was a turning point in his life. Although the Second Vatican Council would only open in 1962, there was already great excitement and new life palpable in French Catholicism. Michael Paul met young French Catholics who were passionate about their faith, who read the Bible, prayed in nearby monasteries, and invited notable French philosophers and theologians to address them. He also met significant nurnbers of agnostics and atheists for the first time in his life. Over the course of many long conversations that went on late into the night, he found he had a gift for explaining faith in a new and fresh language, not the technical jargon of abstract arguments, but the living poetry of personal discovery.

After returning from Caen, he entered the Jesuits, with a sense that he was being called to help people discover the wonder of faith in a world where unbelief was in the ascendant. When he completed his two year novitiate, he was sent to Oxford to study Renaissance literature. While there, he began to realize that despite the distance some of his fellow students felt from faith, the language of poetry opened up for them an avenue into wonder and their inner experience. Over the years ahead, he began to form the conviction that doctrine alone was not enough to speak to people; like Jesus, who used parables, Michael Paul found himself drawn to an imaginative presentation of faith, drawing on the resources of literature.

From his Jesuit formation, Michael Paul learned how to find and trust the hidden poetry in himself, and this skill enabled him in his turn to help others to liberate their human depths. He realized that his surface self was driven toward performing and being successful. From childhood onwards, he had wanted to do well and make his parents proud of him, and so excelled in academic studies as well as drama and debating. But as well as this "performer" side to himself, at a deeper level he felt at home with the wonder of being a "child”, he was happy to trust his feelings, to allow himself to be playful, and to reach out to others without pushing himself to perform in order that they would like him. He made a sustained and conscious effort to live out of the deeper level of himself. When he became aware of surface desires and immature responses, he knew he was out of tune with himself. He picked up the warning signs through a certain sense of dissatisfaction and emptiness. He countered this gnawing surface self by re-tuning into the deeper and more serene wavelength inside, where he lived from a satisfying rootedness together with a great openness of vision. Because his experience of prayer and discernment taught him to be aware of the dangers of this false, performing, “impressing everyone” side to himself, he was particularly well equipped to help others go beyond the surface self and find that deeper peace to help them negotiate the challenges of life.

Michael Paul was ordained to the priesthood in 1972. Afterwards he continued to lecture in English at UCD, and also researched the phenomenon of atheism and how churches and pastoral workers were responding to it. As a result of this research he became the first Roman Catholic ever to be awarded a doctorate in theology by Queen's University, Belfast.

In 1974 he published a controversial article, “Atheism Irish Style”. At a time when the general consensus held that Irish Catholicism was in a thoroughly healthy state, Fr. Michael Paul alarmed many by suggesting that it was actually dying a slow death. He claimed that Irish Catholics (most of all young Irish Catholics) were becoming increasingly disillusioned with many of the externals of church life – religion taught impersonally or in an authoritarian manner in school, dull Sunday rituals, and boring sermons. Although a huge emphasis was placed upon attendance at Mass, the actual practice of it was spiritually impoverished with little prayerfulness, no sense of living worship, and no real attempt to create a human community. The article and subsequent talks and interviews generated huge discussion and debate.

Less than 10 years later, in 1983, he published his first, and most famous book, Help My Unbelief, aimed at readers who were bewildered at why God was becoming so unreal for them. His focus was not on intellectual arguments for or against God, because he did not believe this was where the real story was. He concentrated instead on dispositions and basic attitudes. He was wise enough to know that people do not make decisions about faith upon purely rational grounds. Our decisions for or against faith generally involve a strong sense of how we feel about ourselves and life.

He gave the example of à college student who came into his office to discuss an essay, but suddenly announced in an aggressive tone, “I'm an atheist, you know." When Michael Paul ignored this declaration, and continued to give him feedback on his essay, the student asked, “Isn't it your job to convert me?”: Michael Paul responded, “I wouldn't dream of converting anyone in that tone of voice”, and went on to say that faith was so precious to him that he would not even consider indulging in a useless argument about it. But if the student were willing to listen, he would be more than happy at some other time to explain what faith meant for him. Sure enough, the student returned a few days later. He spoke about this and that for a while, before suddenly announcing, “I suffer from asthma”. And then he went on to share how asthma had destroyed his childhood because it had cut him off from other people, made him ashamed, and angry at God and at life. This story taught Michael Paul something crucial: behind many aggressive denials of faith (“I'm an atheist”) there can be a much less aggressive reality of hurt and disenchantment (”I suffer from asthma”).

In 1990, Michael Paul was invited to work in the Holy See's Pontifical Council for Dialogue with Non-Believers. Five years later he began teaching theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, where he later became Dean of Theology as well as Rector of the large “Bellarmino” community of Jesuit graduate students. Despite his teaching and the big burden of administration, he somehow found time to write, give talks, and listen to many young individuals, helping them to enter into a space of freedom they often did not know they had. In terms of his own writing, he began to see himself more and more as a "translator”, translating the insights of major theologians into a language that honest, educated, non-specialized searchers could understand. Michael Paul read through countless books in a way that was faithful to those who hadn't the time or energy to read such books. He tried to carry out his academic work in tune with Christ's compassion for all seekers and searchers.

When Michael Paul was hit by cancer for the second time in January 2015, he was faithful to his lifelong practice of applying the lessons he learned from his own struggles for the benefit of others. He reflected upon his illness and wrote down his reflections. His final book, about his own journey through cancer, Into Extra Time, is due to be published soon. In this month's Sacred Heart Messenger, he has an article called "The Prospect of Dying". Its final paragraph encapsulates the graced imagination that always enabled Fr, Michael Paul Gallagher to see seeds of hope in what at first looks like a burnt-out desert:

“The outer process of dying may be frightening, but do I really want to stay here forever? If I listen to my heart, I know I am made for more life than I can imagine. When God's promise overcomes my fears, what St. Paul calls the 'last enemy' becomes an unexpected friend.”

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a hanam uasal

◆ The Clongownian, 1980

Interview : Young People and the Faith Today

Father Michael Paul Gallagher SJ

Clongownian
Fr Gallagher you have been working for about a dozen years now in University College, Dublin in the English Department, and you have had contact with students throughout those years and as far as we can make out you have been specializing and doing some research in “unbelief” and various responses to "unbelief. What are your general impressions now of the new generation and of their relationship with traditional faith?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Well, first of all, I don't think people have changed all that much. I think what has changed is the context in which they live and the environment in which faith has to be discovered and decided and committed, In fact, I would put much emphasis on the fact that in our new condition, faith won't happen, faith won't be passed on just passively or easily. More and more its going to be a decision against the tide. I am talking now about the kind of young people I have been seeing in UCD, as you mentioned, for many years; I don't think they have changed all that much. The change lies rather in the pressures that are on them, the pressures that come from a whole transformation in life style, in expectancies. It's the whole change of Ireland in the past twenty years from a largely rural and stable society to an increasingly urban, complex, modern and pluralist society and the young people are obviously the ones that this affects most. I don't, in fact, feel at all despairing about the faith. I think it is conventional faith that is in danger, but then conventional faith, just as conventional and no more than that, was never perhaps worth very much anyway.

Clongownian
What exactly do you mean by that? Are you saying that the faith that many of the parents have is shallow or merely conventional?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Oh! No. Don't get me wrong on that one. I am saying that growing up in the 1980's is very different from growing up in the 1950's. Let me put it in an image. Let me borrow the image from the Gospel, the parable of the Sower. Our Lord talks there about planting the seed, the seed of faith. And let's say that if in the 1940's or 30's, it was enough to plant the seed of Faith 2 inches down in the ground and it would grow and it would come to maturity even and real fullness; that 2 inches down won't do anymore. One will need, to keep the metaphor, at least 4 inches down. It needs to be sown twice as deep because the conditions above the ground, so to speak, are now stormy in a way that they were not before; because we are living with
an accumulation of influences that are undermining faith and it is as well to be conscious of them. I am not suggesting that we lament them: I am not suggesting for a moment that one goes around be moaning our new affluence or bemoaning the fact that we have a more complex society. It has come and it is here to stay and it is a most futile exercise to hope to put the clock back, but I am saying in this new more complex environment, a merely conventional faith that might have been good and might have survived under the old conditions, will now be shown to be incapable of surviving through, what I am calling, the stormier conditions of nowadays.

Clongownian
But if I may return to the point, you still seem to be implying that it is a merely conventional faith that would have survived say in the 40's.

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Well, perhaps, I am if you push me, and I don't think I would be altogether alone in saying that much of what passes for faith, Mass going and so on, may not be the fullness of the Catholic and Christian tradition. There was a marvellous pastoral from the Irish Bishops last St Patrick's Day called “Handing on the Faith in the Home”; I am quoting them now; they put things pretty strongly. “Are we adults going through our lives with ideas about religion more suitable for primary schoolboys and schoolgirls than for modern adults?” I think that question is very real. I think that I come across many people of my generation, I'm just forty exactly, who have children who are going to primary school and who themselves are very devout Catholics, but quite unable, to quote St. Peter from the New Testament, "to give an account of the hope that is in them”. I think that is a serious lack. I think that very many people of my generation have not thought much about their faith since school days and, more importantly still, they have not experienced their faith since school days and, more importantly still, they have not experienced their faith at any great depth or newness or freshness since schooldays. I put a good deal of emphasis on the experience side of it, meaning what one might get in a Retreat or in a Marriage Encounter or in any form of a renewal of faith with others in the various ways which have become very popular in recent years.

Clongownian
Are you saying then that there is a kind of a gap between the parents in their understanding of religion and the teenagers; let's focus in on them, in what they are asking or seeking in religious matters?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Yes, very much so. There is a serious gap there and if I may refer back to that same Pastoral Letter it once again puts it pretty strongly. It talks about the reaction of teenagers in rejecting the religion of their parents and says that it should make the parents conscious of the need to close the gaps between their devotions and their lives, between their prayers and their behaviour. As it puts it, "between their Sunday christianity and their Monday to Saturday living”. And again, this same Pastoral of the Bishops is very accurate, at least to judge from my own experience of students, in that it says quite strongly that the gap between parents and young people is a gap about different expectancies of faith. They say, for instance, that young people have become cynical about words and are impressed only by deeds. Now their parents tend to hold on to the right words, saying the right thing about God. And the Pastoral takes the opposite line, saying in a very blunt expression that the biggest obstacle to Christian Faith today is not intellectual doubt, but quite simply the unchristian life style of so many of us who think we are good Christians.

Clongownian
Where do you see the gap there?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
The gap lies partly in the fact that a slightly older generation, now in their middle years, are content with a certain obedience to a tradition, a certain holding on to doctrine that they were taught. They are not asking the same kind of questions as the young people are. The young people want something on the level of experience, some thing on the level of commitment where the older people were content with something that was more to do with authority. There is a real gap here. I think many of the parents, if they reflect a little bit, are themselves suffering from a certain malnutrition. Malnutrition as I learned in the East is not starvation; it is a hidden hunger that one may not always recognise. I think many of the people in the parents' generation may have hungers on the level of spiritual searching, and also on the level of clarification of their understanding of the faith. And if they allow those hungers to go unsatisfied for years and years, they will find themselves unable to communicate what is genuinely very valuable for them. Now the young people start, as it were, from the other end. They start from themselves, their experience, their searching and they ask that the message of Christianity through tradition, through the Church, through revelation speaks to them relevantly, Relevance is a big word for them. "It bores me” they say about Mass. They talk about it not meaning anything to them.. Whereas the parents may go through a period of boredom, but it is not quite the same crisis, because they are approaching the whole thing from a different standpoint.

Clongownian
Fine! Let's focus in on that question of Mass, because I think it is a real problem for many parents. What do you say to a student who comes to you and says “I am not going to Mass anymore”?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Well! That is something that happens very frequently to me. In fact, I am not at all surprised when a student tells me he is not going to Mass. I feel in Ireland perhaps our greatest strength could be our greatest weakness, Our greatest strength is the fact that we have an immensely strong fidelity to Sunday worship at Mass together. It could become our greatest weakness if we become complacent about it and if that becomes the only expression our faith has. It's meant to be the crown of a Christian life; it's not meant to be the one and only expression of a Christian life. So that I tend to say to people, “are you doing anything else, have you any other expressions of your attempting to follow Christ?”And generally I find that they either have or have not. If they have, then I would put the emphasis on that. If, for instance, a student says to me “well I try to help people, I belong to an organization that helps the old people or that collects money for the Third World and I believe in Christ, although he is not a very real figure for me, but it connects up what I believe Christianity to be”. Then I would emphasize that, reflect on the meaning of that, see if that can't be in some way strengthened, deepened, broadened and used as a springboard for a greater integration of faith. If they say to me '”well, no I don't believe at all or its pretty well gone out of my head or the whole idea of faith is eclipsed for me and I don't go to Mass either”, then I say “no wonder, because you have nothing to bring to the altar”. That is not blaming them, it is simply stating a fact. “No wonder you are bored at Mass, if you have nothing to bring from the rest of your life”.

Clongownian
So you are saying that it doesn't matter if one does not go to Mass, that the Sunday observance is not all that important?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Once again, no. I am not saying that; that would be going too far. What I am saying is that Mass on its own is not the fullness of a Catholic life. That Sunday practice on its own is not enough to be a mature life of faith today.

Clongownian
What else do you want then, as well as Sunday Mass?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
I want what I may call Sunday supplements, not the news .paper kind, but let me call them that. As well as Mass, I would want some dimension of stillness, some dimension of scripture and some social commitment, three S's if you like. A dimension of stillness: under that heading I would put any kind of effort at prayer, at an interior life, at taking one's search and hunger for God seriously, whatever form it may take. But I think every single one of us, if we are to go against the tide of the superficial society in which we are growing up, every single one of us has to protect our consciousness. There is a kind of pollution of consciousness going on in modern society, and just as with the pollution of the rivers, one has to have protection. The protection is some form of inwardness, some form of stillness, some form of prayerfulness. That dimension needs to be there in each life. If it is not, then the faith will be, to that degree, immature.

Clongownian
Are you saying that people should keep saying their prayers and that all will be well?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
I think I am probably saying more than just say your prayers. I am talking about prayer rather than prayers. I am not against saying prayers, but there is something deeper and I think more people are called to it than they perhaps realise. To pray is to relax into the reality of being loved. I would want people to find ways, different for each individual, perhaps, of relaxing into God's presence with them and within them. And from that period of stillness in God's presence to be able then to love from him and from a deeper part of themselves. I think we live on the surface unless we move and keep growing through a lifetime in some form of personal prayer.

Clongownian
What about the other dimensions that you said were important?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Well the others were scripture and the social dimension. I mean under scripture I would take the whole area of understanding the faith. People are terribly ignorant, say of the New Testament, even at University. I come across very few students who know the difference between Ezekiel and Ephesians. I ask myself what the secondary schools are doing in this respect and indeed, may I be naughty and remark that I think that a good study of St. Paul, the man and his meaning and message, would be a great deal more relevant to maturity of faith, than studying Gaudium et spes or other Vatican Council documents, which I don't think speak to people very profoundly. They are good documents, but I don't think they are as important as scripture and I find people are very ignorant of scripture, and that religion time in school has been wasted, I would say, on what is less important. So I am asking that both the young people and their parents keep growing in their understanding of faith.

That is the second dimension which I call scripture. The third dimension is what I call the social dimension, and this is relatively new in the emphasis that we must put on it today. The link between faith and justice is being realised in a new form today, mean ing that I cannot say I believe in God and not allow it to change the way I live, the way I want society to be and the way I want the world society also to be. But to be a Christian is to be committed to changing the world towards justice for all and indeed of questioning one's own life style in this respect.

Clongownian
Why do you single out those dimensions and may I ask how you put them together?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
I single out those dimensions of the community worshipping on Sunday, which is very important, and often the centre of our belonging to the Church. Secondly, the contemplative inner dimension. Thirdly, the dimension of understanding the revelation of Christ and its meaning. Fourthly, the social dimension of how we live it, trying to change society. I see those four dimensions as a map of maturity of faith. I see it as leading to a decision to be committed to Christ in these various ways, within the Church, in prayerfulness and inwardness in a relationship with him and in how one lives. And I see faith today as needing a decision; one cannot drift into faith any more. The tide is too much against it, and so a maturity of faithi needs that kind of integration of those various dimensions if it is to be living and growing through a lifetime.

Clongownian
Can we come back to the point about Mass then? How does that fit in?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
That fits in, I think, fairly simply into that map. It is one crucial and important expression, but there are three more and at least three more that are equally important.

Clongownian
And how does this effect the belief and unbelief of young people?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
I am saying that young people are under the pressure of a whole host-of negative influences and they will need a greater fullness of faith to survive than did their parents.

Clongownian
And what can the parents do? Are you saying they should be educating their children by talking scripture to them or what?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
No, I wouldn't envisage it quite like that. The relationship is more important than the content. I have yet to come across an un believer in all my years of dealing with students, the real total un believer, who had a good relationship with believing parents and who had some experience of prayer since childhood. Put that negatively, if you want. A bad relationship with parents and an absence of experience of prayer seem to be a formula for creating a nominal faith or the possibility of unbelief and drift away from faith. But I would put much emphasis, as indeed that pastoral did, on handing on the faith, on the relationship in the home. That document says very strongly that the greatest service parents can give their children is to spend time with them and to have a good relationship with them. And it also says that homes that are filled with supposed religion, but empty of love, simply turn people off religion. I think there is a deep truth here. It's not so much that parents are asked to be forever talk ing to their children about God, but that young people do experience God through the whole atmosphere and through the values of the home. This is one thing.

Clongownian
Is that the whole story then, just have a good relationship?

Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
No! That's not quite the whole story. I think the parents need to recognise their own needs. It's not as if they were fully mature Christians by simply going to Mass and living relatively good lives. The parents also need to be growing in inwardness, in understanding and in some challenge to their life style. If the parents put a full stop to their practice of the faith, then they will be passing on an im mature faith. If they are content with less than the full map of faith, that I have been suggesting, their children will see faith as something less than its true reality. So as well as putting a great emphasis on the relationship as primary, I would also be saying to the parents that they too need to be seeking out ways in which to protect their own faith and to foster it, so that it grows. Because it is not, it is not as if the parents were not being challenged by the adverse and superficial forces in our society today. The parents also need to find new forms of prayer, new ways of understanding their faith and new ways of commitment and of living it. They live in the same world as their children. They just happen to be older, therefore, a bit more secure in themselves, but that does not mean that they should be complacent and stop growth.

Clongownian
Fr Gallagher, thank you very much.

◆ The Clongownian, 1988

A Month in Paraguay

Father Michael Paul Gallagher SJ

Paraguay is seldom in the news here. In many ways it is a small and forgotten coun try, not least because it is ruled by the longest-lasting dictatorship in Latin America. In recent years a proud but tragic moment of its history was highlighted in the film “The Mission”. In May 1988 it was the last Latin American country to receive a Papal visit. For a regime that calls itself officially Catholic, many of the speeches of the Pope proved embarrassing. From the moment of his touching down in Asuncion, he began a strong defence of individual rights and called for participation by all in the building of a new society. He advocated a 'moral cleaning-up of the nation', which he described as 'a form of social organisa tion in which some people subject others, for their own advantage, to the rule of the strongest'. Since May there has been evidence of a clamp down on dissidents from among the Church. One Spanish Jesuit, Fr Juan de la Vega, was taken away by unidentified police and found across the border in Argentina. The Archbishop of Asuncion described this act as a 'shameful kidnap' and went to the extreme measure of suspending some acts of religious worship on the feast of the Assumption, the date on which President Stroessner was entering into his eighth term of office. This article gives one person's summary of the background to these tensions in Paraguay, as glimpsed in a one-month visit in 1987.

April 1987 will remembered as important in the history of Paraguay, at least for the government announcement that after more than thirty years in force, it was lifting the state of emergency or “estado de sitio”. This measure, which had always been religiously renewed every six months, gave headlines, but during that same month of April other less reported but significant events took place in Paraguay and they will be the focus of this article.

Ever since he came to power in 1954, it has been the custom of General Alfredo Stroessner to give a lengthy address at the opening of parliament on the first of April each year. 1987 was no exception. His car arrived at the congress building surround not only by motorcycle and horse guards but accompanied by van loads of heavily armed soldiers. His address to the government party deputies (Colorado members, many of them sporting the red colour that gives them their name) and to diplomats (including the papal nuncio in a white cassock) lasted the best part of a hundred minutes.

The content of the 1987 speech was fairly standard. Much of it was taken up with figures of expenditures, products and road works. There were less ideological statements than on many previous occa sions. In a country which had seen the clos ing down of the major opposition newspaper ABC Color in March 1984 and the Radio Nanduti (due to “atmospheric” interference) at the end of 1986, the only reference to this area was a warning not to confuse 'freedom of expression with freedom to defame' or to express 'antisocial impulses'; the general also criticised “newspapers drenched in pessimism”. There was by now the customary self-praise of the regime as a 'genuine democracy' and a “friend of the ballot box”, a country where “the people are the soul and the brain of our democracy”. Yet about a fifth of the Paraguayan people'are in fact in exile in Argentina and it is well known that to get a good job in the civil service and even more so in the army, one has to be able to prove that all one's immediate relatives are members of the Colorado party. Hence 40% of the population are officially members of that party and many of them believe its rhetoric. Their fidelity is their ticket to minor favours of all kinds, such as a bed in hospital or getting through the red tape of some official permission. With most of the Liberal opposition party in exile, the elections every five years are of interest only to see what wing of the Colorado party has most influence.

Since one of the definite attractions of the dictatorship has been the version of social and political stability it has provided, Stroessner's speech included plenty of reference to the tragedies of Paraguay's long history of turmoil before 1954. There were forty four presidents in the eighty five years before his coming to power, and that period included the terrible War of Triple Alliance which killed some 90% of the male popula tion, Hence Stroessner's old boast- 'we have put behind us completely the times of an archy and backwardness. There is peace and order under the rule of law, there is no terrorism nor any serious social or political crisis'. This is a familiar message echoed again and again each evening at 8.30 when La Voz del Coloradismo takes over practically all radio stations for a special pro-. gramme. The exception is the church-run Radio Caritas which is itself often the object of attack in this broadcast as an 'instrument of the left and of terrorism'. This nightly propaganda programme makes free and fre quent use of the word “communist” to dismiss international critiques of the Stroessner regime: “there will be no communism in Paraguay: we live in peace”. It also indulges in personal and bitter attacks on individuals especially in the world of communication and the church.

The President's speech contained only one and somewhat solemn reference to the Catholic Church”

The national government, inspired by the Christian and patriotic roots of our people, always offers its collaboration to the Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church, the official religion of the State.

All this is a rhetoric that conceals more than it reveals, because this longest dictatorship in Latin America seems to be entering one of its several phases of tension with the Church in Paraguay

These few pages aim only to show how the blandness of General Stroessner's reference to Catholicism was undermined by other words and deeds even within that same month of April, and that as Paul Lewis claimed in his scholarly study of Paraguay under Stroessner t

Greene, Liam F, 1942-2008, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/777
  • Person
  • 24 September 1942-15 February 2008

Born: 24 September 1942, Dublin
Entered: 04 October 1964, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 21 June 1974, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows: 17 January 1984, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 15 February 2008, St James's Hospital, James Street, Dublin

Part of the Campion, Hatch Street, Dublin Community at the time of death

by 1973 at Brussels Belgium (BEL M) studying
by 1974 at Cambridge MA, USA (NEB) studying - Harvard
by 1991 at Oakland CA, USA (CAL) Sabbatical

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/liam-greene-rip/

Liam Greene RIP

Please pray for the soul of Fr Liam Greene SJ, who died unexpectedly Friday morning, 15 February 2008 after taking ill suddenly. He was 65 years old and was working with the
JUST programme in Ballymun. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

Rev. Liam Greene, S.J.
who died at St. James Hospital, Dublin on 15 February 2008, aged 65 years.
24 September 1942 Born in Dublin
Early education at CBS, James’ Street. Studied English in UCD.
4 October 1964 Entered the Society at Emo
5 October 1966 First Vows at Emo
1966-1968 Milltown Park – Studied Philosophy
1968-1970 St. Ignatius, Galway – Teacher 1970-1973 Milltown Park – Studied Theology
1973-1974 Harvard (USA) – Studied Philosophy and Theology
21 June 1974 Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1974-1984 St. Ignatius, Galway – Teacher; Director of “Irish Studies”; Retreats; Regency 1978-1979 Tertianship at Tullabeg
17 January 1984 Final Vows
1984-1987 Tabor House – Retreats to young people; Chaplain to DIT, Rathmines; part-time lecturer in Communications
1987-1989 Attached to Tabor but resident at 73 Croftwood Park, Ballyfermot 1987-1990 Chaplain and part-time teaching at DIT, Rathmines
1990-1991 Oakland, California – Sabbatical; MA in Spirituality
1991-2008 Campion House –
1991-1993 Development Creation Spirituality Project; Assistant in Tabor; retreats for young people
1993-1996 Communications Centre; Librarian
1996-2000 Also Lecturer in Communications, Ethics and Psychology at DIT
2000-2001 Lecturer at DIT / RTE
2001-2004 Writer; Media analysis (RTE / DIT); Spiritual Director (SJ)
2004-2006 Writer; Media analysis (RTE / DIT); Chaplain: Royal Victoria Eye and Ear Hospital; Spiritual Director (SJ)
2006-2008 JUST Project, Ballymun.
15 February 2008 Died in St. James’ Hospital, Dublin.
Liam collapsed at home in Campion House and efforts to revive him failed. Further attempt to revive him at St. James’ also failed and he was pronounced dead at around noon on Friday 15 2008.
May he rest in the Peace of Christ
Liam was a graduate of UCD, where he majored in English, before he joining the Jesuits. In addition to the above, he also graduated from Louvain University. Harvard University accepted Liam as its only European student the year that he went there. From then, and from his time in Berkeley in 1990, he had many American Jesuit friends.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 136 : Summer 2008

Obituary

Fr Liam Greene (1942-2008)

Paddy Greene writes:
Liam Greene died unexpectedly on 15 February, 2008, in his community home, Campion House, Hatch St. He had not shown any signs of being unwell in the previous days, and, in fact, had worked with his students in the JUST Project in Ballymun earlier that week. His favourite text was: "I have come that they may have life, life to the full"(In.1 0, 10), and it can be said that his life here ended with him living it to the full.

Liam was born in Dublin on 24 September, 1942. His mother, Jane Landers, was a nurse from Cork, and his father, Michael Greene, from Tullow in Co. Carlow, worked in the administrative staff in UCD. Three significant events happened during Liam's teenage years that had a profound bearing on the rest of his life.

First, it was identified that Liam had epilepsy. Learning to live with an unpredictable illness which necessitated a variable dosage of tablets introduced a degree of uncertainty to his moods and energy. Indeed, the many attacks of a greater or lesser extent that he endured throughout his life made him all too aware how consciousness can be snuffed out so quickly. On the positive side, he became passionate in his determination to make as much use of the present moment as possible, in fact, to live life to the full. Situations, therefore, that stopped him doing so provoked in him a harsh response, something that was not always understood by others.

Secondly, his mother, in an attempt to offset the setback of the epilepsy, sent him to evening classes in the National College of Art. So, for five years, as the youngest student there during all his time, he studied all aspects of art from life drawing to painting to art history. From it he got a lifelong fascination with creatitivity, particularly how it manifested itself throughout the centuries in the fine arts, but also in outstanding individuals. Napoleon was his teenage hero.

Thirdly, the death of his brother, Gerard, in an accident left him numbed for a long time - why had he been left and not his brother? It also raised for him questions of meaning, ultimate meaning. It led him to seek to enter the Jesuits after his Leaving Certificate, but the Provincial, Fr. Tommy Byrne, felt it would be too hard on his mother to lose another son so quickly, and so he persuaded him to go to University and consider his vocation after his degree. This he agreed to do.

Liam studied Pure English in UCD with Old Irish as a minor subject. There in 1961, 1 had the good fortune to meet Liam - I had just come from Emo after Vows - and we remained friends ever since. Dermot O'Connor was with Liam in Pure English, and perhaps it was through our friendship with Liam a path to the Society was more fully opened. Anyway, at the end of his degree, in 1964, he joined the Society.

After Vows, Liam went to Milltown Park for Philosophy. They were the heydays of Phil McShane, Conn O'Donovan and Eamon Egan. Liam revelled in all the intense work on Lonergan from McShane and O'Donovan while he also loved the gentle, yet precise, probing and alternatives offered by Egan.

Full of energy and enthusiasm, Liam joined me in Galway for Colleges. First, he had a month's immersion in Connemara to brush up on his Irish. The family he stayed with - Peig, Colie and Bairbre - took him to their hearts and they remained his Connemara family from then on. In the school Liam revelled in teaching, where his expansive style and flair got a great reception from the boys. In the community, Sean Mallin, in his late incarnation as a radical theologian, became great friends with Liam. In 1970, Seán O'Connor, as Headmaster, began his innovative approach to education and Liam became a staunch supporter. Although he was in theology when the experiment ended in grief, Liam always believed that Seán had been on the right track.

Back in Milltown for Theology, Liam was part of the BRA (Basement Residents Association), one of the small communities into which the scholastics were divided as an experiment in more personal living. Situated in the basement of the Retreat House, it included among others Michael Hurley and Brian Lennon, and the rumbustious debates among them all were legendary. Liam spent a semester in Brussels; it was dark and wet and dreary, but it was enlivened by the presence of an Irish-American Jesuit from Newry.

The issue of Liam's epilepsy became a problem with Rome in his third year. Cecil McGarry, as Provincial, took his part, but the negotiation with Rome took time so Liam in his fourth year went to Harvard University in Boston. There he did an MA in Religion and Culture. He was in his element again with the ferment of ideas and people making a heady cocktail. It was there that the story goes that Liam being asked to do a module on statistics (he hated maths) declined, offering the excuse that Ireland was so small that it did not need statistics, as everyone knew everyone else. He got away with it!

His diaconate took place in Boston, where he was supported by Jack and Mary Ryan, parents of Jack Ryan of the New York Province whom Liam and I met on our first visit to the US in 1971. Then home for ordination - a time of sublime celebration for Liam, his parents and family.

After being appointed to the College in Galway, Liam became a teacher of Religion, English, Art and History. These subjects gave him ample scope to express his gifts and training in these areas. He was an inspirational teacher who could convey a love and passion for his subject in a way that has stayed with many of his students to the present day. Like many an artist, he was not the most organized of people in starting out, but, once launched, there was a sureness and flow to his discourse that was compelling. His love of learning is best exemplified in History, which he began to teach with the encouragement of Pádraig O Cúaláin, the senior history teacher. His early enthusiasm for Napoleon was now broadened to encompass the colours and shades of the European canvas and he delighted in telling the stories of the individuals, great and small, that peopled that crowded space.

Special Sunday night Masses for sixth years and their female friends became a feature of the religion programme. Liam, with his powerful homilies and the time and interest he gave to individuals, was a major contributor at that time. Also, he was an essential part of the team that organized and ran the Roundstone retreats where 6th years and a group of teachers spent an intensive few days in an encounter-group retreat. These had a profound effect on the 6th years, and, consequently, the atmosphere in the whole school benefited from them. Liam's love of conversations was an essential part of his ministry and enabled him reach a range of personalities often missed by the rest of us.

Learning through experience was central to Liam's approach to education, and so, school tours to the Continent where religious, artistic, literary and historical events had occurred were undertaken by him. Memorable trips to Spain and Italy, where John Humphreys and myself were the bus drivers, were followed by an annual journey to Paris starting on St. Stephen's Day. This week was filled with the Louvre, the Jeu de Paume, the Tuileries, Versailles and Chartres. To listen to Liam speak of the great works of art, or the wars of history, was to be taken into areas of life that were before only glimpsed from a distance. It was education at its best.

Musicals had been a tradition in Galway under Eamon Andrews and Kieran Ward. During the early 70's Bob McGoran and Murt Curry revived the tradition and Liam joined in with great gusto. He helped with the production, the lighting, the painting and stage design, the costumes. It was a great experience of what makes a Jesuit school such a demanding and rewarding place, and where a lasting influence is had on the students.

After ten hectic years in Galway, Liam was moved to Chaplaincy in the DIT in Rathmines in 1984. The change came as a shock to him and it took him a good while to get used to it. Living in Tabor House was a help to him as it brought him in contact with young adults. The work of a chaplain is so less organized than a teacher, and meeting students is very much a hit and miss business. Liam's ability to drink endless cups of coffee and hold long chats stood him in good stead. However, he was primarily a teacher, and when openings occurred in the school of Film and TV, he took them, as it gave him a chance to lecture, debate and then move into the direction of students in making films. Because of the long and broken schedule of third level, Liam's health during these years was uneven. The correct prescription of medicines for epilepsy is an art not a science, and Liam suffered as a result. Over-prescribing left him depressed and heavy, while the opposite risked the onset of an attack. But despite the setbacks, Liam always bounced back. It gave him the impetus towards what had not yet happened and an impatience with any structure that stood still. And yet, the number of close friendships among lecturers and students he made in those years tells of his real commitment at all times to the individual.

After Tabor House closed, Liam went to live in Cherry Orchard with Gerry O'Hanlon and Bill McGoldrick. Liam in his own way got to know the local people and befriended them. His sense of humour helped to lighten even the most difficult situations, and there were some tricky ones in Cherry Orchard! So the move later to Campion House, Hatch Street, was to a quieter place, although Liam missed the involvement with the local people. As a part-time chaplain in the Eye and Ear Hospital he was able to show his care for those in need. His interest in the students in University Hall led to friendships that lasted many years, and led to links with families in Florence, Rome, France and Lithuania. He even gave a retreat to Jesuits in Lithuania using an interpreter! At this time as well Liam took a renewed interest in his mother's relations in the Galtee Mountains in Co. Cork. He became a source of the family lore of the older generations that stretched back to Famine times, but especially the burning of the local “great house” during the Troubles. Being with them and the very personal way he had of saying Mass became a great consolation to them in times of pain and loss.

When Kevin O'Higgins started the JUST Project in Ballymun in 2006, Liam became a member of the team. He spent a few days a week there and once more his teaching abilities came to the fore. He was greatly involved with helping the students master the skills of writing and presentation in the programmes geared to help them gain entry to third level education. He was also in charge of the cultural dimension to the programme, introducing students to the galleries, museums and theatres of the city. His work with the post-graduate group led to wide-ranging debates on art, history and matters of faith. Liam was in his element again. And that is how death found him: in good health, in good form, in full flight, in work he loved. He went at the height of his powers to a place of greater and deeper connections and explorations. Among his papers was found the following piece:

The Green Wood and the Dry
I'm not saying the journey is over
I'm not saying the end is in sight.
I cannot even call up those metaphors for the end:
The chapter closing;
The folding away of the blanket;
The putting of affairs in order.

My affairs are not in order and they never will be.
I am always beginning to spring-clean
And it never comes to an end.

I'm just saying that I am beginning to forget.
Whether this is age, weariness
Or just simply the overloading of the system,
I don't know.

But this has been a week where the refrain
“Lest we forget” has been repeated over and over again,
(By some - only by some.)
And while it would suit me to forget
To get lost in the whole business of trying to keep up with now,
I would not like to be forgotten,
Especially by those who have heard very little from me
And for whom my whole life must have been a mystery,
As much a mystery to them as to me.

I see this piece as an introduction Liam intended for some reflections and recollections on his life that he never got to write. Perhaps more enduring will be the sculptures he carved in France in the last few years. Although an artist, Liam had never tried sculpture until he got the opportunity to participate in a class while on holiday in France. The teacher, Christine, was gifted and she prodded and poked Liam into committing himself to the work. In the first year came what I call the Pretty Face - an initial study in the craft. The next year came The Hand, tentative, reaching out, just failing to grasp, or something else. It is striking in the complexity of its symbolism of the human condition. Then followed the Job-like head filled with pain and anguish and a scream for help that he said was what he often felt in his life. But he also felt a lot more than that, because his final sculpture is that of a serene, wise, peace-filled face gazing from a place of immense peace and certainty. That was his last statement that stays with us.

I finish by remembering Liam's love of meals, of the gathering of family, of friends, like Joan and Cathal in Barna, with Connla Ó Dúlaine in Aran, of the community with Charlie O' Connor in Hatch St., of the gatherings for the sacred meal of the Eucharist that he put his heart and soul into. Now he is, I am sure, taking part in the Eternal Banquet and awaiting our arrival.

Guiney, John, 1928-2019, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/856
  • Person
  • 25 January 1928-17 November 2019

Born: 25 January 1928, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1946, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1959, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 17 June 1976, Loyola House, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 17 November 2019, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1994 at Rome Italy (ROM) Assistant to General Treasurer

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/john-guiney-sj-a-man-of-unfailing-courtesy/

John Guiney SJ – a man of ‘unfailing courtesy’
Fr John Guiney SJ died peacefully at Cherryfield Lodge, Milltown Park, Dublin 6, on Sunday 17 November 2019. His funeral Mass took place at Gonzaga College Chapel on Wednesday 20 November followed by burial in Glasnevin Cemetery.
Fr Guiney was born in Dublin on 25 January 1928. He attended Belvedere College SJ and entered the Society of Jesus at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois, in 1946. His Jesuit training included studying Arts in UCD, philosophy in Tullabeg, regency in Mungret College SJ and theology in Milltown Park before being ordained in 1959.
He discovered his metier early in life. His brilliant head for figures and his shrewd judgement made him a ‘natural’ for financial matters. This led to a thirty-one years posting as Revisor, and later Irish Province Treasurer, followed by a six years stint on the Roman Curia’s Financial team.
In his later years, he served as Minister in Milltown Park and was Financial Director in Cherryfield Lodge. He prayed for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge before passing away aged 91 years.
Fr Guiney is predeceased by his brothers Tom and Eddie and his sister-in-law Sheila. He is fondly remembered by his nephews Edward and Michael, niece Carina and their partners, Aoife, Carrie and Darren, grandnephew Senan and grandnieces Beth and Ruby, and his Jesuit Community in Milltown Park.
Bill Toner SJ, current Irish Province Treasurer, gave the homily at the funeral Mass (Click here to read full homily).
Fr Toner began by thanking God for the life and work of Fr Guiney, to pray for his happy repose, and to offer condolences to his relatives, especially Edward, Michael and Carina, and their families.
Fr Toner referred to John as a “very shrewd investor” but noted that his business acumen did not interfere with his ability to relate to others. “John himself was a man who took great care to preserve good relationships with everyone he came into contact with in the course of a day’s work. This included in the first place his fellow Jesuits, and lay colleagues, but also bank officials, investment managers, estate agents, insurance brokers, solicitors and so on.”
Remarking that when he himself left the Jesuit Centre for Faith and Justice to become Province Treasurer he turned from a socialist to a capitalist overnight he went on to joke, “I never saw it written down anywhere, but I am sometimes told that Jesuits at large are supposed to pray for their Province Treasurers, that is, for their eternal salvation, not for their investing skills”.
He continued in humorous vein recalling that John often said to him that “I never fell out with anybody about money. On hearing this one Jesuit said to me, well, he didn’t fall out with anyone over money because everyone was afraid to ask him for money.”
According to Bill, John is remembered with great fondness by older Jesuits who encountered him when he worked in the finance office in the Head House, or Curia, in Rome. He brought a “joie de vivre” to the community life there through “introducing novel practices such as Friday night films and golf outings, and evening excursions to enjoy gelato”.
In his concluding remarks, Fr Toner said: “John could have done many different things in his Jesuit life. He was extremely well-read and was very good at languages... But I think that John recognised that his work enabled many other Jesuits to work, to keep close to God, to stay healthy, and to grow old gracefully... May he rest in the Lord’s peace.”
Ar Dheis Dé go raibh a anam dilís.

Early Education at Belvedere College SJ

1948-1950 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1950-1953 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1953-1956 Mungret College SJ - Regency : Teacher
1956-1960 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1960-1961 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1961-1962 Milltown Park - Treasurer; Sub-Minister; in charge of New Building Construction
1962-1993 Loyola House - Revisor of Temporal Administration of Houses; Revisor of Province Funds
1966 Minister; Assistant Provincial Treasurer
1974 Superior; Province Treasurer; Revisor of Temporal Administration of Houses
1988 Sabbatical - (Sep 88 to Jan 89 & Sep 89 to Dec 89)
1993-1999 Borgo Santo Spirito, Rome, Italy - Assistant to General Treasurer; Revisor of Temporal Administration of Roman Curia
1999-2019 Milltown Park - Minister
2000 Cherryfield Lodge Consultant
2002 Vice-Rector; Treasurer; Financial Director in Cherryfield Lodge
2004 Treasurer; Financial Director in Cherryfield Lodge
2018 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

Hamilton, Timothy, 1916-2006, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/602
  • Person
  • 02 September 1916-08 March 2006

Born: 02 September 1916, Leap, County Cork
Entered: 07 September 1934, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1948, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 April 1983, Loyola House, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 08 March 2006, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 128 : Special Issue June 2006

Obituary

Fr Timothy (Tim) Hamilton (1916-2005)

2nd September 1916: Born in Leap, Co. Cork
Early education at Rochestown College
7th September 1934: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1936: First Vows at Emo
1936 - 1939: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1939 - 1942: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1942 - 1945: Belvedere College - Teacher
1945 - 1949: Milltown Park -Studied Theology
28th July 1948: Ordained at Milltown Park
1949 - 1950: Tertianship at Rathfarnhamn
1950 - 1951: Gonzaga College - Teacher
1951 - 1954: Crescent College, Limerick - Teacher
1954 - 1956: Gonzaga College - Minister; Teacher
1956 - 1987: College of Industrial Relations - Lecturer in Economics and Sociology
3rd April 1983: Final Vows at Loyola House
1987 - 1989: Assistant at Centre for Faith and Justice
1989 - 1990: Sabbatical
1990 - 1998: College of Industrial Relations - Writer; Directed Spiritual Exercises; Province Spiritual Director
1998 - 2005: Gonzaga - Writer, Directed Spiritual Exercises; Province Spiritual Director; Rector's Admonitor; Spiritual Director SJ
2005 - 2006: Cherryfield Lodge - Praying for the Church and the Society
8th March 2006: Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin.

Fr. Hamilton was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 19th April 2005. He was very weak and had a history of falls. His condition deteriorated rather rapidly and he was not expected to recover. However, hie slowly improved and resumed daily activities: walking with an aid, reading and receiving visitors. He remained very fragile and required nursing care. There was a marked deterioration in his condition on Tuesday evening, 7th March. He died peacefully on Wednesday 8th March at 12 midday.

Noel Barber writes:
Fr. Tim Hamilton was for many years an influential 'backroom' member of the Province and a prized Spiritual Director. He exercised his influence on Province policy as a Consultor and as a highly regarded advisor of Provincials. His influence was at its height at the time the Province was grappling with the implementation of the Faith and Justice thrust of the Society. It was a thrust that had his whole hearted and steadfast allegiance. As a lecturer for over 30 years in the College of Industrial Relations, he was, despite his shyness and reserve, an effective teacher and a strong influence on his students. A quintessential scholar himself, he could communicate effectively with students of little educational background and develop in them an intellectual curiosity. When he was in community - here lies a paradox in his life - he was shy, reserved, and unfailingly courteous, and some, at least, held him not only in admiration but also in affection.

He was born in Leap, West Cork on September 2nd 1916, the second of two sons. His mother was the daughter of a small farmer and his father, a fisherman, had been an Able Seaman in the British Navy, a fact not always alluded to in a family that became strongly nationalistic. He always had a strong bond with his family and he was a beacon of sanity in his brother's family, a fact beautifully depicted in his nephew's book Speckled People. He was educated on a scholarship in the Franciscan College, Rochestown, Cork where he was an able and diligent student. Reading O'Rahilly's life of Fr. Willie Doyle pointed him away from the Franciscans and towards the Jesuits. Was it Doyle's asceticism as a religious or his heroism as a Chaplain that appealed so strongly to him? We do not know, but join the Jesuits he did in September 1934. He left Cork and was not to spend much time there again. But, as the saying goes, one can take a person out of Cork but you cannot take Cork out of a person. He remained a Corkman all his life: to the day he died he retained his Cork accent - not without an effort, one suspects - identified with the county and exhibited the shrewdness that rightly or wrongly the rest of us attribute to Corkonians.

He found the Novitiate difficult. He was wont to portray himself there as a simple country boy amongst sophisticated urbanites with a Novice Master who found his Cork accent painful and made it abundantly clear that he did so. Perhaps the Master's displeasure may have been the reason that he retained the accent so tenaciously. In a delightful interview he gave to Interfuse (Easter, 2006) shortly before he died, he recounted with great pleasure how the Ground's Man in Gonzaga said to him, “Well there is one thing for sure, you never lost your West Cork accent”.

After the novitiate he studied Classics at UCD and did very well, as he did at Philosophy. Then he went to Belvedere where the simple country lad from West Cork had no difficulty in keeping the Dublin sophisticates under his thumb. He was an efficient, strict and somewhat distant teacher. He did his Theology at Milltown Park. Given his keen interest in Theology and his intellectual ability, one would have expected that he would have been a star there. In fact, due largely to indifferent liealth, he left Milltown without the Ad Grad and so was not considered for further studies in Theology. One suspects that the Province lost a first class Theologian. He was ordained at Milltown Park on July 28th 1948. He did his tertianship in Rathfarnham Castle in 1949/50 under that strange figure, Fr. George Byrne, a great weeper, who wept his way through the Second Week of The Exercises. At the end of the Repose Day before the 3rd week, an irreverent Tertian – not Fr. Hamilton – said to a colleague, “Listen, you bring a raincoat and I'll bring a brolly”.

After tertianship he was sent as a “founder member” to Gonzaga College along with Frs. Charles O'Conor, Bill White and John Murphy. It was often said that Gonzaga was founded on blood (The O'Conor Don), beauty (Murphy), brains (Hamilton) and ballast (White). Given Fr. White's contribution to Gonzaga the description of him as mere ballast was very wide of the mark. So the young Fr. Hamilton spent the year teaching boys of Junior School age. Hardly, one would have thought, his natural métier. At the end of the year lie moved to the Crescent where he taught Classics, Irish and Religion. One of his brightest pupils remembers him as a strict but kind teacher, methodical with a good feeling for the average pupil but not inspiring.

After three years in Limerick he was back in Gonzaga for two more years as teacher and Minister; he carried out both tasks with his characteristic diligence. At this time Fr. Eddie Kent was keen to get him for the staff of the then Catholic Workers' College, and, as a first step, suggested that he should give some classes there while still teaching in Gonzaga, The Rector of Gonzaga strongly resisted the suggestion and it was not until he had left office as Rector did Fr. Hamilton move to the Workers' College to the delight of Fr. Kent. However, that relationship was to end in tears.

While the Kent/Hamilton partnership began promisingly, it has been suggested that Kent interpreted Hamilton's attentive listening as a sign of agreement and was not pleased when he found out that this was not the case. Be that as it may, what is certain is that there was a falling-out and that, as a result, Fr. Hamilton actually ceased living with the community and spent most of his time with his family, coming to the College to work. Needless to say this arrangement caused eyebrows to be raised and questions to be asked. However, the pattern remained, albeit in an attenuated form, until he went to Cherryfield.

He said that his experience in the College of Industrial Relations enabled him to enter the world of the working class. He saw himself as having been working class, but becoming middle class by joining the Jesuits. Indeed, one occasionally got the impression that he believed that if he had not entered the Society he would have remained a simple country lad and avoided the stigma of being middle class. Of course, given his education and ability, he would have become middle class in any case. One can easily imagine him becoming a senior Civil Servant as so many able people of his background did. It was precisely by becoming a Jesuit that he was given a way back to the working class. That would not have happened had he become a senior Civil Servant or an academic. He tended to attribute to himself rather exceptional insight into workers' lives. In the interview in Interfuse he suggests that in the Province only Bill McKenna has his knowledge of their lives!

From the late 1950s he spent his summers in Germany studying Theology in which he was passionately interested and read voraciously. The Second Vatican Council gave his theological interest a great boost and it is said that at this time Bishop Corboy used him as a theological consultant. To the end he remained open and fresh in his theological thinking, always balanced in his judgement with a deep respect for the Church and its teachings.

He was an avid Gaelic enthusiast, having a love for the language, history and culture of the country. He always hoped that he would attract people to an appreciation of the 'hidden Ireland of the heart, culture, civilization and language that people knew nothing about for about 1,000 years'. In this, as in all other matters, he was convinced that one should work with persuasion and attraction, never polemically.

He was completely committed to the 32nd Congregation's teaching on Faith and Justice and, as a Consultor, used his influence to advance that teaching. At a Province assembly some 10 years ago, he gave a review of the previous 30 years in the Province. It was remarkable in that he was totally positive; he did not seem to entertain a single doubt about decisions that had been taken. He either did not observe any negatives or chose to play them down in the light of what he believed to be the overwhelming benefits of the changes to the Society after the Council. Some were surprised that he did not address some of the misgivings.

He became a spiritual director of Jesuits and others who found his attentive listening, his ability to get people to see the good in themselves and his generous way of speaking enormously attractive. I am told that some have attributed the saving of their vocation to his guidance.

In April 2005 he was admitted to Cherryfield after a series of falls, and was not expected to recover, but did so sufficiently to resume his reading, receive his many visitors and walk with some assistance. However he was fragile and at times gave the impression that he was fading away. He deteriorated sharply on March 7h 2006 and died peacefully the next day.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2006

Obituary

Tim Hamilton SJ

Fr Tim Hamilton was for many years an influential 'backroom' member of the Irish Jesuit Province and a prized Spiritual Director. He exercised his influence on Province policy as a Consultor and as a highly regarded advisor of Provincials. His influence was at its height at the time when the Province was grappling with the implementation of the Faith and Justice thrust of the Society. It was a thrust that had his wholehearted and steadfast allegiance. As a lecturer for over 30 years in the College of Industrial Relations, he was, despite his shyness and reserve, an effective teacher and a strong influence on his students. A quin tessential scholar himself, he could communicate effectively with students of little educational background and develop in them an intellectual curiosity.

He was born in Leap, West Cork, on September 2nd 1916, the second of two sons. His mother was the daughter of a small farmer and his father, a fisherman, had been an Able Seaman in the British Navy, a fact not always alluded to in a fam ily that became strongly nationalistic. He was educated on a scholarship in the Franciscan College, Rochestown, Cork, where he was an able and diligent student. Reading O'Rahilly's life of Fr Willie Doyle pointed him away from the Franciscans and towards the Jesuits. Was it Doyle's asceticism as a religious or his heroism as a Chaplain that appealed so strongly to him? We do not know. But join the Jesuits he did in September 1934. He left Cork and was not to spend much time there again, but as the saying goes, you can take a person out of Cork but you can not take Cork out of a person. He remained a Cork man all his life: to the day he died he retained his Cork accent - not without an effort, one suspects - identified with the county and exhibited the shrewdness that rightly or wrongly the rest of us attribute to Corkonians.

After the novitiate he studied Classics at UCD and did very well, as he did at Philosophy. Then he went to Belvedere where the simple country lad from West Cork had no difficulty in keeping the Dublin sophisticates under his thumb. He was an efficient, strict and somewhat distant teacher. He did his Theology at

Given his keen interest in Theology and his intellectual ability one would have expected him to have been a star there. In fact, due largely to indiffer ent health, he left Milltown without the Ad Grad and so was not considered for further studies in Theology. One suspects that the Province lost a first class Theologian. He was ordained at Milltown Park on July 28th 1948.

After tertianship he was sent as a 'founder member to Gonzaga College along with Frs Charles O'Conor, Bill White and John Murphy. It was often said that Gonzaga was founded on blood (The O'Conor Don), beauty (Murphy), brains (Hamilton) and ballast (White). Given Fr. White's contribution to Gonzaga, the description of him as mere ballast was very wide of the mark. So the young Fr. Hamilton spent the year teaching boys of Junior School age. Hardly, one would have thought, his natural métier. At the end of the year he moved to the Crescent where he taught Classics, Irish and Religion. One of his brightest pupils remem bers him as a strict but kind teacher, methodical with a good feeling for the aver age pupil but not inspiring. After three years in Limerick he was back in Gonzaga for two more years as teacher and Minister; he carried out both tasks with his char acteristic diligence. At this time Fr Eddie Kent was keen to get him for the staff of the then Catholic Workers College and, as a first step, suggested that he give some classes there while still teaching in Gonzaga. The Rector of Gonzaga strongly resisted the suggestion and it was not until he had left office as Rector that Fr. Hamilton moved to the Workers' College, to the delight of Fr Kent. Fr Hamilton said that his experience in the College of Industrial Relations enabled him to enter the world of the working class. He saw himself as having been working class, but having become middle class by joining the Jesuits. Indeed, one occasionally got the impression that he believed that if he had not entered the Society he would have remained a simple country lad and avoided the stigma of being middle class. Of course given his education and ability, he would have become middle class in any case. One can easily imagine him becoming a senior Civil Servant as so many able people of his background did. It was precisely by becoming a Jesuit that he was given a way back to the working class. That would not have happened had he become a senior Civil Servant or an academic. He tended to attribute to himself rather exceptional insight into workers' lives.

From the late 1950s he spent his summers in Germany studying Theology, in which he was passionately interested and read voraciously. The Second Vatican Council gave his theological interest a great boost and it is said that at this time Bishop Corboy SJ used him as a theological consultant. To the end, he remained open and fresh in his theological thinking, always balanced in his judgement with a deep respect for the Church and its teachings. 1. He was an avid Gaelic enthusiast, having a love for the language, history and cul ture of the country. He always hoped that he would attract people to an apprecia tion of the 'hidden Ireland of the heart, culture, civilization and language that peo ple knew nothing about for about 1,000 years'. In this, as in all other matters, he was convinced that one should work with persuasion and attraction, never polem ically.

He became a spiritual director of Jesuits and others who found his attentive lis tening, his ability to get people to see the good in themselves, and his generous way of speaking enormously attractive. I am told that some have attributed the saving of their vocation to his guidance.

In April 2005 he was admitted to Cherryfield after a series of falls and was not expected to recover, but did so sufficiently to resume his reading, receive his many visitors and walk with some assistance. However he was fragile and at times gave the impression that he was fading away. He deteriorated sharply on March 7th 2006 and died peacefully the next day.

Fr Noel Barber SJ

Hanley, Kieran C, 1915-1998, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/603
  • Person
  • 06 October 1915-22 July 1998

Born: 06 October 1915, Castletownbere, County Cork
Entered: 08 September 1934, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1948, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 April 1983, Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 22 July 1998, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Clongowes Wood College, Naas, County Kildare community at the time of death.

◆ Interfuse No 101 : Special Edition 1999 & ◆ The Clongownian, 1998

Obituary

Fr Kieran Hanley (1915-1988)

6th Oct. 1915: Born in Castletownbeare, Co. Cork.
1929 - 1934: Educated in Mungret College, Limerick.
8th Sept. 1934: Entered the Society of Jesus at Emo
9th Sept. 1936: First vows at Emo
1936 - 1939: Rathfarnham - BA (English History)
1939 - 1942: Tullabeg - Philosophy
1942 -1944: Belvedere College - H.Dip
1944 - 1949: Milltown Park - Theology.
28th July 1948: Ordained at Milltown Park
1949 - 1950: Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1950 - 1962: Tullabeg - Minister & Bursar, Farm from 1953
1962 - 1965: Clongowes - Farms in CWC and Tullabeg
1965 - 1972: Tullabeg - Superior; Assistant in Parish; Minister
1980 - 1981: Loyola - Socius
1981 - 1983: Socius and Superior
1983 - 1989: Clongowes - Rector
1989 - 1993: Manresa - Rector, Socius to Novice Master; Director Spiritual Exercises
1993 - 1997: Clongowes - Assistant in People's Church.
1997: Cherryfield

Kieran went to Cherryfield at the beginning of December 1997. After Christmas he spent some weeks in the Bons Secours Hospital and then returned to Cherryfield where he made some improvements but was still weak. On Sunday, July 12th Kieran had a turn which left him very weak. Since then he had slowly deteriorated and passed away very peacefully on Wednesday morning July 22nd, 1998.

Kieran Hanley SJ was born in Castletownbeare on the southern tip of Co. Cork and maybe his interest in the origins of others grew from his own inordinate pride in the place of his birth. Certainly, he knew where everyone known to him came from. And he seems to have known everyone, whether it was in the years that he ministered in the midlands, or when he supervised in the Jesuit farms, or when he lived in the Jesuit schools.

Although he lived into his eighties and was a prodigious worker, he was no stranger to illness, and indeed he nearly died before completing his theological studies. It was therefore a particular joy for him and his family when he was ordained in 1948 and took his final vows in the Society of Jesus on the 3rd of April 1983.

In 1950 he began a career as an administrator in the Jesuit order that encompassed nearly 50 years. For 23 years, at the college and farm outside Tullamore, he learnt about farming from his neighbours and first displayed his particular gift of absolute integration into the midland's community. He was a bright and willing student, as some who attended his funeral remember, and soon he undertook the direction of the Clongowes farm as well. He was to spend 10 years in Dublin, in Gonzaga College, as superior in the church in Gardiner Street and as assistant to the provincial of the order. Finally he became rector in Clongowes Wood College in the plains of Kildare in 1983 and it was here he was to end his days, except for a four year interlude as rector of Manresa, the retreat house in Clontarf. It was to Manresa that the beautiful Evie Hone stained glass windows were moved and suitably housed under his supervision and he rejoiced in displaying them to visitors.

It was in Clongowes that he seemed most at home and during his 11 years there he got to know every pupil in the school, all their parents and most of their relations. He was a great raconteur and had an infectious sense of humour. His ability to orchestrate and transmit the best of West Cork common sense was an absolute delight and was perhaps the secret of his rapport with people. His advice was worth having and you would not go far wrong if you listened to it.

He died peacefully on July 22nd at Cherryfield Lodge, the Jesuit nursing home in Dublin, and is buried in the community graveyard at the top of the long avenue in Clongowes, past the large beech trees, where small black crosses with Latin inscriptions mark the graves. A student visited the new grave some days after the funeral and then proceeded up to the castle, only then to realise what Fr. Hanley's death meant when he did not find Kieran walking around and cheerfully welcoming him by name. There are thousands all over Ireland and in the diaspora who will miss this generous man and yet still feel his presence, most of all his family. Only six months before he died he had overcome what seemed certain death, but once more he recovered. Finally he was too weak to fight death anymore.

He was a very modest man who loved to joke about his contributions. He recalled that his novice master, in an effort to foresee the future, foretold distinguished futures for all other novices, but paused when he came to Kieran, and then he said that a holy man would be welcome in any house. The poor man did not know the half of it, but he was right; Kieran Hanley was always welcome in any house. With his other unique attributes there was a true humility. Finally, Fr. Hanley invariably added to his farewells the phrase, “and thank you”. Now, we all reluctantly say farewell, and thank you.

Hayes, James FG, 1933-2016, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/838
  • Person
  • 06 July 1933-31 January 2016

Born: 06 July 1933, Pery Square, Limerick
Entered: 14 September 1951, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 29 July 1965, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final vows: 02 February 1968, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 31 January 2016, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1976 in London, England (ANG) working
by 1991 at Torry, Aberdeen, Scotland (BRI) working
by 1994 at Lerwick, Shetland, Scotland (BRI) working
by 2001 at Liverpool, England (BRI) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/jim-hayes-sj/

Jim Hayes SJ
AMDG Express has saluted two of the Irish Jesuits working in Britain: Kieran Barry-Ryan and (posthumously) Jack Donovan. Jack’s near-contemporary, Jim Hayes, is living in
Liverpool, but for many years he has hardly featured on the horizons of Province activities despite a remarkably active priestly life. Paul Andrews’ report on a recent conversation with Jim.
When I rang Jim Hayes to hear his story, one picture stayed vividly with me. Jim asked had I seen “Tunes of Glory”, and in particular the scene in an officers’ mess, where you see officers at each end of the dining room table, eating in a shared solitude, with nobody saying hello. Jim’s first breakfast in Belvedere, in the early 70s, was like that. He had moved across the city from Milltown, appointed as Minister to a large community which he had never known before. He sat at one end of the table, some of the brethren gathered at the other end, and nobody greeted the newcomer or said hello. Things eased with time. Rupert Coyle, Michael Reidy, Jim Dunne and others became and remained good friends. But the Belvedere of 1970 tolerated unfriendliness, even inhumanity, in a way that reduced everyone’s energy.
Jim is remembered in both Milltown and Belvedere not just for efficiency as a Minister, but for an almost maternal eye for the needs of the brethren, and readiness to take pains and spend money to meet those needs. He is remembered with affection, and it is important for him to realise that.
Despite his frosty start in Belvedere, he worked hard at his job and grew to like it there; so he was sad, and felt it as something of a reproach, when the Provincial moved him after three years. He is happy to recall that years later the same Provincial wrote to him with an apology for making that move, and an acknowledgement that he had followed the wrong advice and done Jim an injustice.
After a short spell in his native Limerick, (at that time there were more priests in its main street than in the whole of Zambia), he was invited by Fr Oliver McTiernan to ease the shortage of priests in London. With the support of both Irish and British Provincials he moved to Islington for fifteen happy years. Both Oliver and Bruce Kent, his companions in Islington, later left priestly ministry, but Jim stayed with his parish, schools and hospital.
In the mid-1980s he felt moved to offer himself for the diocese of Aberdeen, where the shortage of priests was so chronic that it survived only through an infusion of Jesuit volunteers. Jim was parish priest in a Highlands parish west of Inverness, then in a city parish, and then for seven years in the Shetland Islands. When he went there, he found only four native Catholics, but with the development of the oil fields their number was swollen by a surge of workers, from Scotland, England, Ireland, Poland and elsewhere.
Despite the loneliness and the long winter nights, Jim enjoyed Shetland very much, moving round his parish by car and boat. But ten years ago he found that his half-moon glasses no longer served him adequately. A specialist told him that he was suffering from loss of central vision due to diabetes (of which he was unaware). His sight gave way suddenly. He could not distinguish parishioners, and he knew he had to leave the parish and the island.
He was happy to accept an invitation from the British Provincial to serve as full-time chaplain in the Catholic Institute for the Blind in Liverpool. He had to give up the chaplain’s post when he found he could no longer see faces clearly enough to recognise them. Now he is a resident, in a state of high dependency, blind and afflicted by Parkinson’s, but still able to celebrate Mass. When I asked him about the good and bad years in his memory, he said that most of his years had been good, but the last year has been an annus horribilis. Is there anything we can do to bring this good Jesuit closer?

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/20674/

Fr Jim Hayes RIP: committed to kindness and service of the Gospel
There were two sides to Jim Hayes, the Limerick-born Jesuit who has died at the age of 82. At first blush a stranger might find him serious, almost stern, in face and manner; but where he was looking after others – as he was for most of his ministry – he was kindness itself. He is remembered in both Milltown and Belvedere not just for efficiency as a Minister, but for an almost motherly eye for the needs of the brethren, and readiness to take pains and spend money to meet those needs. Any Jesuit in the job of Minister lives in a tension between the needs of the brethren and the moneywise watchfulness of superior and bursar. In that tension Jim put the brethren’s needs first. So he is remembered with great regard and affection. He sometimes felt the pressure of the bursar’s books, for instance when he was unexpectedly moved from Belvedere. Years later the Provincial who moved him wrote to him with an apology for making that move, acknowledging that it was a poorly-founded decision.
After a short spell in Limerick, (at that time there were more priests in its main street than in the whole of Zambia), he was invited by Fr Oliver McTiernan to ease the shortage of priests in London. With the support of both Irish and British Provincials he spent fifteen happy years in Islington. Both Oliver and Bruce Kent, his companions in Islington, later left priestly ministry, but Jim persevered faithfully.
In the mid-1980s he felt moved to volunteer for the diocese of Aberdeen, where the shortage of priests was so chronic that it survived only through an infusion of Jesuit volunteers. Jim was parish priest in a Highlands parish west of Inverness, then in a city parish, and then for seven years in the Shetland Islands. When he went there, he found only four native Catholics, but with the development of the oil fields their number was swollen by a surge of workers, from Scotland, England, Ireland, Poland and elsewhere.
Despite the loneliness and the long winter nights, Jim enjoyed Shetland, moving round his parish by car and boat. But ten years ago he found that his half-moon glasses no longer served him adequately. A specialist found that he was suffering from loss of central vision due to diabetes (of which Jim was unaware). His sight gave way suddenly. When he could not identify parishioners, he knew he had to leave the parish. The British Provincial asked him to serve as full-time chaplain in the Catholic Institute for the Blind in Liverpool. He worked there for fourteen years until, blind and afflicted by Parkinson’s, he returned to Ireland and settled well into Cherryfield Lodge. His condition deteriorated quickly in the past two weeks, and he died peacefully on 21 January, surrounded by his family and Jesuit companions.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 162 : Winter 2015

Obituary

Fr James (Jim) Hayes (1933-2016)

6 July 1933: Born in Dublin. Raised in Limerick City.
Early education at Crescent College SJ, Limerick.
14 September 1951: Entered Society at St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
15 September 1953: First Vows at St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
1953 - 1956: Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1956 - 1959: Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1959 - 1962: Clongowes - Regency : Teacher; Prefect; Studying CWC Cert in Education
1962 - 1966: Milltown Park - Studying Theology
29 July 1965: Ordained at Gonzaga Chapel, Milltown Park, Dublin
1966 - 1967: Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1967 - 1970: Milltown Park - Minister
2 Feb 1968: Final Vows at Gonzaga Chapel, Milltown Park, Dublin
1970 - 1974: Belvedere - Minister
1974 - 1975: Crescent - Minister in Church
1975 - 1990: London, UK - Curate at Church of St John the Evangelist, Islington
1990 - 1993: Aberdeen, Scotland, UK - Parish priest at Sacred Heart Church, Tory
1993 - 1999: Lerwick, Shetland, Scotland, UK - Parish Priest at St Margaret's
1999 - 2013: Liverpool, UK - Chaplain at Christopher Grange Centre for the Adult Blind
2013 - 2016: Loyola - Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

Having worked mostly in parishes in Britain, Jim returned home to Cherryfield Lodge from Liverpool on February 2nd 2013. He settled very well into Cherryfield, and while his overall wellbeing was fragile, he enjoyed life again in an Irish community. His condition deteriorated quickly in the past two weeks, and he died peacefully surrounded by his family, his sister Thérèse, brother in law John, nieces and nephew, and members of the Jesuit community, May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

James Francis Gerard Hayes, was born on 6th July 1933, in Limerick City. He was the eldest in the family, and he had a brother and two sisters.

In 1951 Jim joined the Jesuits in Emo, and three others who joined the same day, Sean Coghlan, Dermot Cassidy and Harry Naylor are still living. After doing an Arts degree in UCD and studying philosophy in Tullabeg. He then worked for three years in Clongowes. Here he taught French, History and Geography, and he was he also was the choir master. For the study of Theology Jim went to Milltown Park, where he was ordained on 29th July 1965.

After Tertianship Jim's first appointment was as Minister in Milltown Park in 1967. This was a community of 45 priests, 9 brothers and 54 scholastics, and the Minister also had responsibility for the catering and maintenance of Tabor Retreat House. At this time the furnishings and décor were institutional. Jim had a different vision of caring after people, and of surprising them and giving them more than they expected. The celebrations and fellowship that Jim enabled brought the Jesuit community together, and when Jim died, there were many stories of his kindnesses and care of the Milltown Park Community.

After two years, in 1970 Jim was sent to the Belvedere College community, to bring about the same changes in the community there. Apparently he was not welcomed with open arms, and he remembered his first morning there at breakfast, where the atmosphere was decidedly chilly. However his care for people warmed the atmosphere at Belvedere too, and Jim formed great friendships there. Four years later when he left Belvedere, Jim was especially missed by the catering and maintenance staff at Belvedere House, because he was a wonderful person to work for.

After Belvedere, Jim was then sent to be Minister in the Sacred Heart Church in his native Limerick. However Jim longed for direct pastoral work, and was attracted by the need in London, which were described to him by his friends, Fr Ken Mc Cabe and Fr. Oliver McTiernan,

So for fifteen years Jim went to minister at the church of St. John the Evangelist, in Islington, from 1975 till 1990. When Jim died the present parish priest of St John's, Mgr. Seamus O'Boyle, wrote to assure Jim's family and Jesuit colleagues of his prayers and those of the parish. Seamus reflected that parish register in St Johns tells its own story, of hundreds of baptisms and weddings and Anointings of the sick, conducted by the youthful Fr. Hayes. When Jim arrive at Islington Harold Wilson was Prime Minister, and when he was leaving, John Major was taking over from Margaret Thatcher. These were turbulent years in Britain, with the IRA bombings in Hyde Park and Regents' Park and Brighton. These were also years of deep divisions in society, of the miners' strike, and of massive protests for nuclear dişarmament, led by the secretary of CND, Mgr. Bruce Kent who lived in the same rectory as Jim. These were also turbulent years in the church too, and both Bruce Kent and Oliver McTiernan eventually left the priesthood. During all these upheavals and during all of this unrest, Jim Hayes faithfully preached the Gospel of love and forgiveness and the mercy of God, at the parish of St. John in Islington.

In 1990 Jim moved again, to where the need was great, to Scotland. He worked in Aberdeen for three years, at the Sacred Heart Church in Torry and then in 1993 at St Margaret's Church at Lerwick on the Shetland islands. Lerwick is further north than Oslo and Stockholm, with long summer evenings, and dark cold winters. Despite these extremes Jim loved it there. Here his congregation was made up of a small number of native Shetland people and a large number of immigrants who worked in fisheries and on oil rigs. On hearing of Jim's death, Anil Gonzalves of St Margaret's church wrote to say: “I am sorry to hear about Fr Jim Hayes. I will inform the parish and a Mass will be offered for his intentions”.

Jim's sister Theresa and her family, the Hurleys, were regular visitors to Jim in Lerwick. Jim's sister Mary visited him there too, and Jim had happy memories of Mary clearing the snow with a brush from the roof of the presbytery. When Mary sadly died about 15 years ago, Jim recalled these carefree times. Mary's death was a heavy cross for Jim to bear.

After nine years in Scotland, in 1999 Jim was surprised to learn the reason for the rapid deterioration of his eyesight. It was caused by diabetes, and the damage to his eyes was permanent. Even in in his blindness, Jim was willing to go where there was an apostolic need, and so he went at Chaplain to Christopher Grange Centre for the Adult Blind, in Liverpool. For three years he celebrated the sacraments for this special community, and learned to master technology so that he could 'read' the texts to celebrate Mass, and to administer the sacraments. During his period Fr. Matthew Power SJ from the nearby Jesuit community kept in touch with him, and his long-term medical needs were monitored by his sister Theresa, and by Mary Rickard, the Irish Provincial's health delegate. Theresa and Mary formed a mighty alliance, and they liaised with Bernadette Lavin, who looks after the health of the British Jesuits.

After complex negotiations, diplomatically handled, Jim came to live in Cherryfield in 2013. The transfer was planned with military precision, with a vanguard, a main guard, and a rear-guard action. The time in Cherryfield was a time of great blessings in Jim's life, because he could be close to the Hurley family, and when Jim was able to perform the baptism of baby Sam Fogarty, his grandnephew, last June, in the Cherryfield chapel, it was a special time of blessings for everybody.

The time in Cherryfield gave the Terry and her Hurley family a chance to be close to Jim, and he loved their visits and support. They shared their pride in Munster Rugby and their careers, and Jim was proud of them.

About six years ago, while in Liverpool, Jim prepared the liturgy for his funeral Mass. The readings and the hymns, and special recorded music reflected the interests of a person coping with serious illness and with his blindness. The pealing of church bells, which was a feature of a Sunday morning BBC programme he loved, and the signature tune for the BBC Shipping forecast called “Sailing By”, were played at his request. The Gospel included Jesus reassurance “It is I, do not be afraid”. In Jim's final years he suffered from Parkinson's disease, and despite the kindness of the Cherryfield staff and the support of his family and Jesuit colleagues, these were difficult years. When Jim died on January 31st, 2016, the prayers for eternal rest had a special poignancy.

Liam O’Connell

Hughes, Seán J , 1910-2003, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/604
  • Person
  • 29 October 1910-19 June 2003

Born: 29 October 1910, Drumcondra, Dublin
Entered: 02 September 1929, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 29 July 1943, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 February 1947, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 19 June 2003, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin community at the time of death.

Early education at O’Connell’s School

by 1935 at St Aloysius Jersey Channel Islands (FRA) studying

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 117 : Special Issue November 2003

Obituary

Fr Seán Hughes (1910-2003)

29th Oct. 1910: Born in Dublin
Early education in National School, Fairview and O'Connell School (CBS), Dublin
2nd Sept. 1929: Entered the Society at Tullabeg
3rd Sept. 1931: First Vows at Emo
1931 - 1934: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1934 - 1937: Jersey - Maison St. Louis - Studied Philosophy
1937 - 1939: Mungret College - Regency (Choir Master)
1939 - 1940: Clongowes - Regency (Choir Master); Clongowes Certificate in Education
1940 - 1944: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
29th July 1943: Ordained at Milltown Park
1944 - 1945: Mungret College - Sub-Minister
1945 - 1946: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1946 - 1953: Mungret College
1946 - 1949: Minister; Lecturer in Philosophy
1949 - 1953: Teacher; Lecturer in Philosophy, Choir Master
3rd Feb. 1947: Final Vows at Mungret College
1953 - 1959: St. Ignatius, Galway - Rector; Men's Sodality
1956 - 1964: Province Consultor
1959 - 1965: Gonzaga College - Rector
1965 - 1973: Crescent College - Rector; President: Sod. BVM
1973 - 1974: Belvedere - Director, Secretariat Catholic Secondary Schools (1973-1977)
1974 - 1977: John Austin House - Bursar, Belvedere
1977 - 1984: Manresa - Minister, Asst. Director, Retreat House; Socius to Novice Director
1984 - 1995: John Austin House - Superior, Directed Spir.Ex.
1995 - 2003: Loyola House
1995 - 1997: Librarian; Treasurer; Directed Spir. Ex.
1997 - 2001: Assistant Treasurer; Directed Spir. Ex., Sacristan; House Historian
2001 - 2003: Resided in Cherryfield Lodge

Following his return to Cherryfield from four weeks in the Royal Hospital in May, where Seán regained some mobility, and his sharpness of wit returned, he took a sudden turn on June 16th during the night. His heart and kidney function deteriorated rapidly over the next few days but he entertained friends even on the previous Thursday afternoon! Seán on 19 June 2003, at Cherryfield Lodge, aged 92 years.

Dermot Murray writes:
Seán Hughes was born on 29th October 1910 in Dublin. He attended the National School in Fairview and O'Connell Schools before entering the Society in Tullabeg at the age of eighteen. Following the noviceship (Tullabeg and Emo) and his degree studies in UCD, he was sent to Jersey for Philosophy in 1934. Two years in Mungret, one year in Clongowes and three years in Milltown Park were followed by ordination on 29th July 1943. His fourth year in Milltown was followed by a year in Mungret before Tertianship in Rathfarnham, a return to Mungret in 1946 and the beginning of his life of service as a priest in the world of education.

After his seven years in Mungret, Seán went to Galway as Rector. Six year later he went to Gonzaga again as Rector and this was followed by eight years as Rector in Crescent, where he was deeply involved in the move to Dooradoyle and the setting up of Crescent College Comprehensive. On his appointment as Director of the Secretariate for Catholic Secondary Schools, Seán left Limerick in 1973 and, following a short stay in Belvedere, moved to John Austin House in 1974. He then spent seven years in Manresa before returning to John Austin House as Superior from 1984 to 1995. Then, at the age of 85, he moved to Loyola House where he spent six happy years before moving to Cherryfield House for the last two years of his life. He died on 19th June 2003.

In a letter to Fr. Provincial on the occasion of Seán's death, Mr. Seán McCann, General Secretary of ACS paid him this tribute:

“The history of School Management in Irish Post primary education cannot be adequately written without honouring the    memory of Fr. Sean Hughes'

There is no need in this obituary to go into the details of his work in the development of the structures of second level in education in Ireland. But it is worth quoting the words of Eileen Doyle in her book, Leading the Way in which she notes that”'the credit for proposing a managerial body that would represent the interests of all the churches is rightly attributed to John Hughes SJ”.

Seán worked very hard to obtain this. The fruits of his efforts – his among others - lie in the Secretariate for Catholic Secondary schools and in the Joint Managerial Body (MB), representing all secondary schools. And when he became Chairman of the Board of Crescent College Comprehensive, he was one of the founding fathers and the first Chairman of the Association of Community and Comprehensive Schools (ACS).

I first came to know Seán when I was a scholastic in Crescent in 1965 when Sean was appointed as Rector. He had already been Rector in Galway and in Gonzaga and some members of the Crescent community at the time thought that his appointment was another example of musical chairs. But they were wrong. I was a young scholastic at the time, beginning my second year of regency in Crescent. What struck me then - as it did in the years since – was that, despite his many and well known foibles, Seán was a Vatican 2 person and remained so until the end of his life.

I came to know him more deeply when he was Chairman of the Board of Crescent College Comprehensive and I was Headmaster. We became great friends and I became aware of the depth of his own spirituality – confirmed by the letters received since his death - and his wonderful humanity. He performed an enormous service to the world of Irish second level education. He had a wide range of friends and a wonderful sense of family; and he did love 'fine wines and foods rich and juicy' as Isaiah described the banquet that Lord would prepare for his people. May he enjoy it eternally in heaven.

Humphreys, John, 1943-2014, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/846
  • Person
  • 30 April 1943-10 October 2014

Born: 30 April 1943, Limerick City
Entered: 07 September 1961, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 21 June 1974, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows: 15 May 1981, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 10 October 2014, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1970 at University of Warwick, Coventry (ANG) studying
by 1975 at Rome, Italy (DIR) studying
by 1997 at Cambridge MA, USA (NEN) Sabbatical

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/loss-leader-john-humphreys/

Loss of a leader: John Humphreys
Last Friday, 10 October, the Irish Jesuits lost one of their great servants. John Humphreys, aged 71, had been unconscious for two days, and increasingly sick with a brain tumour for five months. John was a Limerick man, a passionate fan of Munster rugby. His father, 25 years older than his mother, had died in 1953, leaving 10-year-old John as man of the house. He learned to manage the burdens of responsibility in a calm and kindly style, and as a result was landed with them all his life, as captain of Clongowes, beadle of scholastics during his years of study, Socius (companion and close advisor) to three Provincials, and Rector of several houses. When he was taken sick he was in his ninth year as rector of St Ignatius, Galway, charged with the thankless task of raising two million for school buildings.
John’s administrative gifts would not explain the grieving crowds who packed Gardiner Street church for his funeral. John was loved, and will be terribly missed. His style was upbeat, encouraging and giving. He was a humble man, a quiet listener, ready to learn from his mistakes. A Jesuit friend remembers him as good company at table, not saying much, but smiling at the craic and adding to it.
The source of this warmth became particularly clear in his last months of life. When he learned that his cancer was probably terminal, he lived with it, and his increasing sickness, with good humour nourished by his prayer. He asked a friend to seek out the text of a prayer which touched him, and described his spiritual state:
I asked God for strength, that I might achieve. I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy. I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 158 : Winter 2014

Obituary

Fr John Humphreys (1943-2014)

30 April 1943: Born in Limerick,
Early education at Sacred Heart College, Limerick and Clongowes Wood College
7 September 1961: Entered the Society at Emo
8 September 1963: First Vows at Emo
1963 - 1967: Rathfarnham - Studied Science at UCD
1967 - 1969: Milltown Park - Studied Philosophy
1969 - 1970: Warwick University - Studied Philosophy
1970 - 1971: Clongowes - Lower Line Prefect: Regency
1971 - 1974: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
21st June 1974: Ordained at Gonzaga Chapel, Dublin
1974 - 1976: Gregorian, Rome --Studied Theology (Residence: S. Roberto Bellarmino)
1976 - 1981: Galway – Teacher
1978 - 1979: Tertianship in Tullabeg; Vice-Rector; Teacher
1979 - 1981: Rector; Teacher; Province Consultor (1978)
15 May 1981: Final Vows at Galway
1981 - 1987: Milltown Park - Rector; Delegate for Formation; Province Consultor
1987 - 1996: Loyola - Socius; Vice-Superior; Province Consultor
1991 - 1996: Socius; Province Consultor. Chair of Board Crescent College Comprehensive
1996 - 1997: Sabbatical – Weston Jesuits, New England
1997 - 1999: Clongowes - Chaplain; Pastoral Care Corordinator; Chair, Vocations Vocations Promotion Team
1998: Acting Socius
1999 - 2002: Loyola - Superior; Socius; Prov. Consultor; Provincial Team; Chair Vocations Vocations Promotion Team
2002 - 2005: Dominic Collins - Province Consultor; Prov. Assistant for Strategic Planning; Delegate for Child Protection; Revisor of Province Funds
2005 - 2014: Galway - Rector; Revisor of Province Funds; Province Consultor; Child Protection Delegate; Spirituality Delegate; Chair Coláiste lognáid Board
2008 - 2014: Galway - Rector; Director of Spirituality Centre; Revisor of Province Funds

Fr. John Humphreys was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 19th May 2014. He settled in well though his condition deteriorated over time. He died peacefully in Cherryfield on 10th October 2014.

“Past all grasp God-throned behind death with a sovereignty that heeds, but hides, that bodes but abides”. Hopkins stretching words about the mystery of death and God.

I remember my mother told me one time whenever John's father, Louis, would tell a funny story – long before be got to the punch line he would get into helpless fits of laughter and tears were running down his face, so that everyone around started laughing with him and you mightn't get the punch line at all, but it didn't matter. And the same was true of John. The abiding truth of John was that you just felt better in his company - his humanity and palpable goodness made those with him feel good about themselves. An extraordinary gift!

When Sir Thomas More heard about the sudden death of Bishop John Fisher at the hands of Henry VIII because he had refused to bow to his bullying: More said: Ah, Fisher, a lovely man. An amazing number of people would say just the same of John Humphreys: a lovely man.

Karl Rahner, the German 20th century Jesuit theologian, was asked in an interview how could a modern man become or remain a Jesuit. And part of his answer was: my reason is not because the Society of Jesus still has a significant influence within the Church or in the broader world. Rather, it is because I still see around me living in many of my companions a readiness for disinterested service carried out in silence, a readiness for prayer, for abandonment to the incomprehensibility of God, for the calm acceptance of death in whatever form it may come, for the total dedication to the following of Christ crucified.

It could be a pen-picture of John's life-of many others too as Rahner says – but John is the focus today : disinterested service – John was the Provincial's (three of them in fact – Philip Harnett, Laurence Murphy & Gerry O'Hanlon) Socius, or right hand man or consigliere for many years - I used to refer to him as 1A - the servant of us all in the Irish province of the Jesuits – enormously competent; painstaking, generous, good-humoured, compassionate, including his hidden & committed labour in the not-easy area of child-protection. Readiness for prayer: John's faith in Christ Risen was the constant and the anchor in his life, and his abandonment and calm acceptance were astonishing when he suddenly became ill in April and was soon diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumour, which claimed his life within 6 months - John's dealing with this was for us Jesuits an embodiment of the P & F in the Spiritual Exercises where Ignatius writes that we were all made to praise, reverence and serve God our Lord, and everything else in creation was made to help us do this - and so we should neither prefer a long life to a short life, sickness to health - John lived this freedom or detachment as it's sometimes called. Mary Rickard, our Province Health Supremo who with John's doctor-niece Sally masterminded John's care, said of his time in Cherryfield, where he was so lovingly cared for, that he was no trouble - So easy to look after – and he just slipped away last Friday afternoon - no trouble - he died as he lived.

However, unlike yourself or myself, John wasn't perfect in every way. My mother again was a source of information on his earlier years - reminding me that she asked John once when he was about eight, how do you say what time is it in French - John replied grumpily claratelle - my mother (a French teacher) tried to correct him, but John wouldn't budge - his father had told him it was claratelle. And claratelle it was. As stubborn as a mule. Loyal to the end. Then shortly afterwards he got his appendix out and he completely changed, she said, and became the delightful John we all knew! John and I use to play Mass too when we were about 10 - though he claimed that I was always the priest and he was the server. Well, that all certainly changed in later life! But he could be fussy and get a bit ratty too - on holiday he once rebuked me for not getting to the washing up. I replied any time I go to it you have it half-done already - it was so strange seeing him completely passive in our most recent holiday last July in Alison & his late-cousin Seamus’ Glandore house.

As you well know, John had a great sense of humour - his great friend Tom told me that John's own father had named a horse Bundle of Fun after John when John was only an infant! he was always ready for a party and dance - Louis told me he burned up many a dance-floor at weddings, had a spontaneous awareness of beauty and beauty responded; he was a charmer ! Always happy for a sing-song -- now he was no Pavarotti and would never have got into OLCS, but he was totally involved, with his head and feet going steadily to rhythm right to the end in the Cherryfield masses. We'd often speak in authentic Limerick accents when together - and he'd get great mileage if I told him I was listening to two men talking at the traffic lights in Limerick one time : and one said the doctor told me to take it easy; Geez, replied the other fella, you'll find that very hard you've done feck all for the last 40 years !

He loved Galway - spending two sustained spells there in the Jes both in the 70s and for the last eight years in many roles-where he has been loved and hugely appreciated, and where he will be, like in so many other places, greatly missed.

John was matured and purified by his life's experience: his father died when he was about 10, his mother (my godmother) was very unwell in her latter years, his lovely sister Reena, and only sibling, died 18 years ago after a long illness and her husband Paddy, 10 years ago – their legacy is the delightful family of his nieces and nephew, Sally, Louis and Judith, whom he dearly loved. And now John, just over the Biblical three score and ten. He had his difficult moments too: having an academic stumble in Warwick University in his earlier years, where he went full of Lonergan philosophy to the uncomprehending English - there he found that so many conversations ended with: Oh, how very interesting – but after all, who's to say?! And all his time of shepherding Jesuit scholastics in Milltown Park was no bed of roses.

I think that this purification made him such an attractive person to so many people - there was nothing threatening or intimidating about John - he was a great listener -- and when he had positions of responsibility he was just so human, so humble, so understanding, so compassionate.

The readings: Wisdom 4: 7-15; 2 Tim 4; 6-8; Mt 5: 1-12 - speak for themselves, perhaps most eloquently Paul's own farewell.

Fr Pedro Arrupe, the then General of the Jesuits, meeting with the provincials of the Philippines some years ago, was trying to clarify the main characteristic to be sought in Jesuits who are making final vows (sjs take final vows a few years after ordination) and thrashing it around for a while someone eventually said 'disponibilité' ie availability, freedom from possessiveness, or a sustained freedom from selfishness and self-concem. Arrupe nodded vigorously and said, that's it. John was available. The late Fr Michael Sweetman was a boy in Clongowes when Fr John Sullivan was there and Sweetman wrote about him: ‘he had wiped out selfishness so completely that you could not fail to see what, or rather Who, was in him.

There was nothing else there: he was all goodness, all Christ.' I think that's not a bad description of John. There wasn't a bone of selfishness left in him. I think Ignatius would have been pretty pleased.
And when you come to think of it isn't that what the Christian life is all about too !

So, while John's death is profoundly sad for us all, it's not tragic, though leaving us all bereft -- he did live over the three score and ten: the psalmist says our span is 70 and 80 for those who are strong - though we thought John was strong! We have all been enormously enriched by him. He was sublimely ready to go. He was just serenely waiting for the call in the last few months. So while we grieve as we must, we grieve not as vague agnostics, but like John himself as followers of Christ Risen, recognising as Paul Claudel wrote that Christ has come not to explain suffering, but to share it and to fill it with his presence.

There is, of course, no way in which anyone's life, not to mention that of a person of John's calibre and influence, can be remotely captured adequately in a homily or a panegyric - it can just be hinted at. But we are surely called to give profound thanks for John, for his life, his companionship and his service. And his swift departure is a call to all of us to get our own lives more into perspective, to shed some of our illusions and foolish obsessions and preoccupations – we are so easily seduced by the ephemeral and unimportant. John's death can teach us how to walk more lightly through life – to live in a less cluttered way - to attend to what is essential & important – to live more nobly and more generously – in the words of St Paul, to live a life more worthy of our vocation. And more in the spirit of inner freedom & serenity that John embodied. Helmut Thielicke, the German Lutheran theologian wrote: “Because of the Resurrection everything is now different: we do not know what is to come, but we do know who is to come. And if the last hour belongs to us, we do not need to fear the next minute”. And in conclusion St John of the Cross pithily: 'In the evening of our lives we will be judged on love'. It's an exam in which I think John will do rather well.

Peter Sexton

Hutchinson, John W, 1917-1970, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/189
  • Person
  • 22 May 1917-24 January 1970

Born: 22 May 1917, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1935, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1953, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 24 January 1970, Regional Hospital, Galway

Part of the Coláiste Iognáid, Sea Road, Galway community at the time of death

Irish Province News 45th Year No 2 1970

St. Ignatius College, Galway
On December 31st came the sad news of Father Cashman's death in Rathfarnham. He passed away quietly in the last hours of the old year. May he rest in peace. He came here from the Tertianship in August 1934 and after 33 years spent in Galway he left for Rathfarnham in September 1967. He was the most popular priest in the city, keeping in constant contact with the people and helping them in every need. He was well known for the helpful advice he gave and was loved by all for his friendliness and good will. He was the originator of the plan for the houses at Loyola Park, and saw the plan carried through. He took a keen interest in the Wheelchair Association and when men could not find employment he was the man to whom they came and the one who found jobs for them. In his early sixties he had a prolonged period of ill health, was in and out of hospital, but on his return from the U.S.A., after a few months spent with his brother, a Parish Priest, he seemed to have been given a new lease of life. At breakfast, on the morning after his return, he was so overwhelmed with the warm céad míle fáilte he got that in his own inimitable way he quoted two apt lines from the “Exile's return” : “I'd almost venture another flight, there's so much joy in returning”. The move to Rathfarnham was a hard blow to him. As he said in a letter to a Galway friend. "I loved the people back in the West". He accepted it quietly and settled down to his life of retirement. Fine tributes appeared in the Connaught Tribune and Cork Examiner, but the greatest tribute of all was the profound feeling of sorrow and of personal loss shown by such a multitude of friends in Gal way. The people of the West loved him, too. A life-long lover of his native language he spoke it fluently, taking his place at table with the school fathers, so as to have a chance of speaking it.

The last week of January brought us new cause for grief. After a month in the Regional Hospital, Father Jack Hutchinson died of a heart-attack on Saturday evening, 24th January. On Monday there was a Concelebrated Requiem Mass, 15 priests taking part, including Fr. Provincial and Father Rector who was the chief Celebrant. His Lordship, the Bishop presided. During the Mass the choir rendered hymns in Irish. Fr. P. Meagher, Socius, read the Gospel and Father P. O'Higgins read the bidding prayers in Irish. The impressive funeral and the large number of “Ours” from all over the Province who followed his remains to the graveside were ample testimony of the esteem in which he was held by all who knew him.
Father Jack was here as a Scholastic, 1943-46, and as a priest from 1963 till his death. He suffered a severe heart attack at Easter 1968, and since then his health was never very good. During the last two years of his teaching career he was also Spiritual Father to the boys, and when he became Operarius in the Church, he continued on as Sp. Father to the boys in a number of classes. He paid frequent visits to the Regional Hospital, and it was while getting ready to visit a patient there on the evening of December 23rd that the heart trouble came, which led to his death, a month later. During that last month, his lovable personality and fund of humour contributed much to the happiness of his fellow patients. He was the life and soul of the ward, and the men grew very fond of him and missed him sorely when he died. He was the last of five from our former community to die within the short period of 18 months, and yet, accustomed as we had grown, in that time to death, we seemed to feel all the more keenly this fifth last good-bye. Ar láimh dheis Dé go raibh a n-anamacha :
Fr. Hutchinson's Sodality and the boys of the 6th year presented Rev. Fr. Rector with a chalice as their tribute to the memory of a priest whom they loved.

Obituary :

Fr Jack Hutchinson SJ (1917-1970)

The announcement of the death of Fr. Jack Hutchinson was received with great regret not only by the members of his own community who knew him well, but also by the Province at large in which he had many friends and was universally liked.
After completing his secondary education at O'Connell Schools Jack Hutchinson entered the Noviceship at Emo in September 1935. As those were years of large numbers in the novitiate, Jack had the advantage of a large circle of contemporaries as he made his studies through the various houses of formation. All his training was done in Ireland. He was a naturally good student and applied himself seriously and successfully to Arts, Philosophy and Theology. He enjoyed games and played them well, especially soccer, his first love. He was often out in the boats in Tullabeg and took part in dramatics.
After Tertianship in Rathfarnham, Jack was assigned to teaching, which was to be his main work to the end. For eleven years, Gonzaga knew him as a devoted and efficient teacher, one who ever had the best interests of the boys at heart. His aim was to cultivate an easy relationship with his pupils. Nothing was too much trouble and his pupils appreciated the work he did for them. Because of his anxious temperament, teaching took more out of Jack than it did out of others of more relaxed nature.
During the Summer of these years, he gave retreats. He agreed that he found this type of work difficult. He was fond of quoting a friend who maintained that his own retreats must do enormous good, because of the effort they caused him in the giving. This was a view with which Jack concurred. For years he went to Lourdes each summer, to work as a chaplain and there took up the study of French at which he soon became proficient.
In 1962, he was transferred to the teaching staff of Galway, an assignment for which he was very suitable. As a scholastic he had spent two years teaching in Coláiste Iognáid and his ability to teach through Irish made him a most valuable member of the staff. He was equally at home and effective teaching Irish, Latin and French. For a number of years, he produced school plays in Irish at home and at Drama Festivals. In this field he was very successful and was awarded many prizes. He was always a great lover of the Irish language and of all that goes with it. He held very strongly that schools in Ireland should be trying to give an education suit able to Irish boys. Later, Summer months found him providing an outlet for his zeal in doing supply work on Bofin Island and in English parishes.
Jack Hutchinson was a very easy man to live with, the community to which he was appointed meant everything to him. His broad charity and friendliness were at the centre of his dealings with each one. If ever his feelings were ruffled or if he felt that he had spoken a word out of place, it seemed to him the most natural thing in the world to apologise. He had a lively sense of humour and on villa or festive occasions, he was at his best with stories and jokes of a most kindly nature, Twenty years of teaching can make inroads on the health of any man and with a man of Fr. Hutchinson's devotion and concentration, the effect was bound to be serious. Many and many an evening, he just about dragged himself to his room after a heavy day. A serious heart attack came after he had acted as Chairman to a meeting of Jesuits at Milltown Park, His recovery slow and tedious he bore with great patience and it was a wonderful uplift to his morale when he was told that he would be returning to Galway and was to work in the church. His zeal was his undoing. When human need demanded he knew no bounds and so eventually, he had another heart attack. He slept well the day he died and woke 'to find the doctor and nurses about his bed. He thanked them all for their care of him and kindness to him. Those words of thanks, the last he spoke, were characteristic of the man. Fr. Jack Hutchinson was a man of integrity, a fine teacher, and a good priest. He died at the age of 52. His memory will live on with affection in the hearts of many.
Proof of the regard in which the boys held him was not slow in coming. During his time as Spiritual Father to the boys, he had instituted class masses regular days for mass for each class in the Boys' Chapel. These were intimate gatherings and proved very popular with the boys. He re-organised Cuallacht Mhuire on lines of his own and again he was proved right. And so it came about that within a fortnight of his death, quite spontaneously in an intimate ceremony Cuallacht Mhuire presented to the Rector an engraved chalice and Paten, dedicated to his memory.
Go ndéana' Dia Trócaire air.

Kavanagh, Joseph, 1913-1982, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/197
  • Person
  • 05 February 1913-27 May 1982

Born: 05 February 1913, Dublin
Entered: 11 September 1931, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1946, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1949, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 27 May 1982, County Wicklow (in a car accident)

Part of the Gonzaga College, Ranelagh, Dublin community at the time of death

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 57th Year No 3 1982
Gonzaga
A phone-call about midnight of 27th/28th May brought us the tragic news of the death of our colleague, Fr Joe Kavanagh, What exactly happened is not entirely clear, but it appears that Fr Joe was involved in a hit-and-run accident while travelling on his Honda motor-cycle at about 11 pm near the Glen of the Downs, co. Wicklow. He was buried from St Kevin’s church, Harrington street, where he had been a curate for the past two years, and he got a send-off that he must have appreciated from his lofty position. A very large number of concelebrants, both Jesuit and diocesan, joined Fr Rector in the requiem Mass; the music was provided by Our Lady's Choral Society, of which Joe had long been a zealous and active member; two Bishops presided, the Most Rev Joseph A Carroll and the Most Rev Donal Murray; and among the congregation were the Lord Mayor (an old pupil) and Mr John Wilson (government minister and an old teaching colleague). We miss Joe very much. Though working in a parish he was always very much a member of the Gonzaga community, in reality as well as in spirit. He joined us as often as his duties would allow and was always a welcome, refreshing, peaceable presence. May he rest in peace.

Obituary
Fr Joseph Kavanagh (1913-1931-1982)

In the last issue of the Province News the editor had a few interesting words to say about the commissioning of obituary notices. In asking me to present a pen- picture of Joe Kavanagh he didn't have to do any serious arm-twisting: I, am more than glad to be able to pay my tribute to a man who was my companion for many years and whom I, among many others, will sadly miss now that he is gone.
Let us start with the timetable, as it were, of Joe's life. He was at school in Belvedere, entered the noviceship in Emo in 1931. This was followed by Juniorate in Rathfarnham where he pursued a French course with considerable success: philosophy in Tullabeg from 1937-1940, and from these years arises a clear memory of Joe working out, with marvellous patience and good humour, a quartet from Gilbert and Sullivan that was somewhat beyond the vocal range of those whom he was directing. The regency years were spent at Mungret (1940-42) where he was obviously very happy and very successful, but the exigencies of the time demanded that he move to Clongowes for his third year, to get his Certificate in Education. From 1943 to 1947 he was in Milltown for theology, and from those days too I can picture him at the piano preparing a motley caste for a brief season of operetta, or playing at centre-forward on the soccer pitch where he was no mean performer, and many of his contemporaries will remember that deft flick of his that was productive both of goals and serrated shinbones.
After tertianship in Rathfarnham Joe spent a year in Clongowes, followed by three years in the Crescent and then, in 1952, he came to Gonzaga where he was to remain until 1971. After this long period of teaching the rest of his days were to be passed working for the "Diocese' - seven years in the Blackrock area, where he was chaplain to Obelisk Park and also taught in the Blackrock Technical school, three years in East Wall and his last two years as a curate in Harrington street.
When Joe's remains were brought to St Kevin's Church on the evening of 29th May, his parish priest, Fr Dermot O'Neill spoke a few words and described Joe as “a nice, quiet, unassuming, hard working priest”, and most would agree that that is a very fair description. He always had this air of quiet about him; perhaps “serenity” would be a better word, or even “unflappability”. In my mind’s eye I can see him, good humoured and unperturbed, surrounded by a mob of unruly schoolboys or refereeing an under-10 rugby match with tremendous aplomb. There was an occasion when, in the act of refereeing, Joe fell backwards over a stray mongrel that had wandered onto the pitch: except physically he wasn't the slightest bit upset. Teaching, I suspect, was always a little against the grain for Joe. but he applied himself to this task over many years with admirable patience and dedication, and must have passed on much of his own great enthusiasm for the French language: certainly many of his pupils remember him with great affection and while they may beat their breasts a little for the merry dance they sometimes led him in the classroom they recall with gratitude his quiet tolerance and inspiration.
There was a period when Gonzaga took its cricket seriously, and this was one game that Joe particularly enjoyed. I remember him playing in the Staff versus Boys matches, tying up the opposition with a mixture of slow googlies and chinamen; and at other times he could be seen umpiring at square leg or behind the wicket, always perched upon a shooting stick.
When at last his teaching days came to an end and he moved out into the “Diocese” he brought the same calmness and application to his new duties. I know that as a curate he undertook very seriously the job of visiting his parishioners. But all the time - from 1971 - that Joe was working as a curate he remained a member of the Gonzaga community and this he was both in fact and in spirit; for hardly a week passed that he didn't join his brethren there, and they will now miss his quiet presence, his informed conversation and his generally optimistic view of world affairs.
Joe seems to have suffered from some sort of a chronic ulcer. Certainly, over the years he was taking something for this ailment or observing a mild diet. And yet I always regarded him as a man of rude health, a man who not all that long ago put-putted his way on his motor bike all the way from Dublin to some place north of Rome where the machine “packed up”, unable any longer to match the vigour of its rider. It was on his motor-cycle, in his 69th year, that he met his sudden tragic death, (27th May 1982), the victim, apparently, of a hit and-run accident around 11 pm in the Glen of the Downs, though the exact circumstances may never be known. .
For his funeral Joe got a great send off. St Kevin's Church, Harrington' street, was packed for the requiem Mass concelebrated by a very large number of both Jesuit and diocesan priests and presided over by two bishops. But what must have given him, watching from above, especial satisfaction, was the fact that the Gardaí spontaneously provided a cycle escort to expedite the funeral cortège to Glasnevin (he had worked with them in the parish), and that the music was provided by Our Lady's Choral Society of which he had long been an active and zealous member. His love for music had always been conspicuous. He was always the choir master, the organist, the musical director of shows and entertainments from novice to tertian, and even after. Nothing he liked better than to be seated a a piano when he displayed the extraordinarily wide range of his musical interests, at one time fingering a Beethoven sonata, at another belting out something straight from Tin Pan Alley.
There can be no doubt but that now he is a member, perhaps even the director, of a celestial choir and that he will continue to make sweet music to the Lord for all eternity.

Irish Province News 58th Year No 2 1983

Gonzaga
Fr Joe Kavanagh
Further light has been thrown on the circumstances surrounding the accident that ended in the tragic death of Fr Joe Kavanagh at Glen o’ the Downs on the night of 27th May 1982. The following reconstruction is based on the evidence presented in Bray district court on 7th January, at the hearing of the prosecutions brought under the Road Traffic Act against the two motorists involved in Fr Kavanagh's death.

The first impact
A woman was driving south in this area around 11 pm. There was a heavy drizzle. Some distance behind her was another car driven by a Mr Fiach McDonagh of Wexford, who thus described the whole occurrence. As he came around a bend on to a straight stretch of road he saw sparks come from under the car in front of him. The car appeared to be on the correct side of the road at the time, then swerved over to the right-hand side of the road and carried on some distance ending up in a ditch. It wasn't until he came level with a helmet which he spotted lying on the road that he realised that an accident had taken place. He turned his car round towards Dublin and stopped on the Dublin-bound carriageway, with his light shining full on the motor-cyclist, who was positioned with his entire body lying on the hard shoulder except for his head, which was on the roadway. A car came from the direction of Dublin: he stopped it and asked the driver to get help. Then he spoke to the priest on the ground and told him he was sending for help.
The car that he had seen sparks come from had travelled weil over a hundred yards down the road. He noticed some body get out, walk around the car, look and get in again; then it slowly began to drive away.

The second and fatal impact
Ms McDonagh went back to his own car and saw at the same time a car travelling from the Wicklow direction, This car kept coming even when it was in full view of the car stopped in the middle of the road. At the last minute it swerved suddenly to the inside of the stopped car on to the hard shoulder. Here it struck the bike and the man on the ground, swerved to the right-hand side of the road and ended up in the ditch on the opposite side. The impact had flipped the priest right up in the air and over, reversing his position. Two men got out of the car, both as it transpired ambulance men. When they saw the priest on the ground they went back to their car, took out a first-aid kit to do whatever they could, but found no pulse.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1982

Obituary

Father Joseph Kavanagh SJ

When I joined the Gonzaga Community in 1961, the oriental-like inscrutability and rather dis tant manner of Father Kavanagh gave me a little indication of his real qualities. In fact he proved to be a delightful companion, whose gentle sense of humour, generosity and undemonstrative kindness greatly enhanced community life. In the school, while he did not attain sufficient command of a class to be an excellent teacher, he won the affec tion of the pupils capable of distinguishing quality of personality from pedagogical skill. Later, in parish work, his quiet and undemonstrative devo tion to his parishioners was most impressive and much appreciated. To this the attendence at his funeral bore eloquent testimony. As a friend - I had the good fortune to enjoy his friendship for 21 years - he was warmharted and generous and a kindly and wise counsellor.

There was about him a self confidence and magnanimity reflected in his judgements of others which were almost always positive and generous: never destructives, never petty. He was as patient with the shortcomings of others as he was of his own and always keenly aware of the qualities and strengths of others.
He was a good man, a sound religious and a loyal friend. May he rest in peace.

Keane, Edmund, 1916-2000, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/624
  • Person
  • 28 July 1916-11 May 2000

Born: 28 July 1916, Ballina, County Mayo
Entered: 07 September 1933, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 30 July 1947, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1951, St Ignatius, Leeson Street, Dublin
Died: 11 May 2000, St Vincent’s Hospital Dublin

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1949 North American Martyrs, Auriesville NY USA (NEB) making Tertianship

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 24th Year No 1 1949

LETTERS :
Fr. Edmund Keane, writes 27th September, from Oour Lady of Martyrs Tertianship, Auriesville, New York :
“On the eve of the Long Retreat (it begins this evening) I write to commend myself in a special manner to your Holy Masses and prayers. Auriesville certainly affords all the exterior aids for a faithful retreat : peace, coolness, and the wide open-spaces so welcome after the heat and hurried tempo of New York, and one can depend on the weather to behave. After four weeks Fr. Kent and I are now well settled into the Tertianship, and both are in good health, D.G. The house is very comfortable and well appointed, food excellent, and surroundings from a scenic point of view very beautiful. In all there are 43 Tertians, of whom only about 8 hail from Provinces other than American, so there are no language difficulties. Fr. Keenan is our Instructor, and I am glad of the opportunity of spending a year under his direction.
Yesterday, the Feast of the Matryrs was marked by special celebrations, and during the day the number of pilgrims that flowed in through the Shrine must have been over 10,000. Solemn High Mass coram Episcopo (Most Rev, Dr. Gibbons of the Albany diocese) in the Coliseum at noon, preceded by a procession into it of various bodies, the Knights of Columbus, The Order of Alhambra and the A.O.H., etc. A sermon was preached by Fr. Flattery, Director of the retreat-house. The celebrant, deacon, subdeacon and M.C. were Filipino, Canadian, Italian and Dutch respectively Tertians). Supply work comes round about every third week : one regular week-end call brings us a distance of 150 miles, and so we are armed with the faculties of three dioceses - New York, Albany and Syracuse. Some hospital work, too, may likely fall to my lot, such work, apart from its value as an experimentum, should be rich in experience ..."

Irish Province News 24th Year No 3 1949
LETTERS :

From Fr. R. Ingram, Holy Family Rectory, 1501 Fremont Ave., South Pasedena, Cal., U.S.A. :
“I have just missed a trip to the Marshall Islands and Hawaii. Shell Ox Co. is sponsoring a world-wide experiment op gravity observations to be taken simultaneously at many different stations. We had arranged a party to take the observations in the Pacific, they were to be made every 1 hour, and the Navy had agreed to co-operate by flying the personnel and instruments to the locations. But an automatic recorder was perfected by La Coste (the designer of the ‘gravy-meter’) and off he went alone. God bless American efficiency! Instead of flying across the Pacific a party of us have charge of the observations for the Los Angeles region. We hope to get a lot of information.
I plan to leave the West for St. Louis at the end of July. I sail for Ireland with Frs. Kent and Keane on 7th September”.
(Fr. E. Kent has been acting as Assistant Chaplain in City Hospital, New York.)

◆ Interfuse No 105 : Special Edition 2000 & ◆ The Clongownian, 2000

Obituary

Fr Edmund (Eddie) Keane (1916-2000)

28th July 1916: Bom in Ballina, Co. Mayo
Early Education Private school in Ballina and at Clongowes Wood College
7th Sept. 1933: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1935: First Vows at Emo
1935 - 1938: Rathfarnham - Arts at UCD
1938 - 1941: Tullabeg, studying Philosophy
1941 - 1943: Belevedere - Teacher, H.Dip in Education
1943 - 1944: Mungret College - Teaching
1944 - 1948: Milltown Park - studying Theology
30th July 1947: Ordained at Milltown Park
1948 - 1949: Tertianship at Auriesville, New York
1949 - 1951: Leeson Street - Assistant Editor “Studies” and Editor “Irish Monthly”
1951 - 2000: Gonzaga College - Teacher until 1991 when he retired from teaching. He continued to be active as Writer, Spiritual Director (SJ), etc.

Father Keane played golf and tennis until an advanced age. Even after a hip operation in recent years he went back to golf. His health was failing and he moved to Cherryfield Lodge in March while awaiting a bed in the hospital. He was admitted to St. Vincent's Private Hospital for tests on the 20th April last. There had been a gradual deterioration in his health, so his death was not unexpected. The community were glad to have a vigil with him on the evening before he died. He died peacefully before 10 a.m. on 11th May, 2000.

The following obituary appeared in The Irish Times shortly after Fr. Keane's death ...

Eddie Keane - known with much more affection as “Neddie” to generations of Gonzaga students - lived a long and an ordinary life which will almost certainly be forgotten. Fame asks of its candidates the proofs of ego and the protocols of conquest, and neither in any way interested this very benign, bookish man who taught classics in a quiet secondary school through a half century of planetary atrocity and apocalypse.

In fact, he was so self-effacing that most of us discovered his background in Ballina only by reading the death notice which his community placed in a newspaper, and so self-possessed that the other possibilities of his apostolate - the prestige of service overseas, say, or of academic ambitions as a classicist - didn't distract him for a moment from his daily obligations as a mentor and a friend to multitudinous middle-class kids cogging Xenophon and Virgil from their inky, broken-down textbooks.

Eight and nine-year-olds who served Eddie's Mass - the old Tridentine rite of Pius V in the little scented oratories of the priests' house - won't have forgotten that familiar kindness of his at the far end of their schooldays, when bewilderment over the black-letter and the red-letter Latin of the altar-server's laminated sheet would cause the affectionate face to turn, smile, and set right, as the smells of breakfast rose up from the kitchens and oriental blossom drifted across the tennis courts. And, by the same token, 18 and 19 year olds who participated in the late 1960s in the new vernacular Mass of Paul VI won't have forgotten the period after the Council, years of turmoil and resurgence, the glory days of the Jesuits under their second Ignatius, Arrupe the Basque, as the order re-invented itself in the name of liberation theology and the preferential option for the poor, when Father Keane was still there with Catullus in one hand and the Psalter in the other, trying to twin Jerusalem and Athens, the Graeco-Roman idea and the Judeo-Christian ideal.

This was no small achievement. When the Lord scolds Saul on the road to Damascus in the Acts of the Apostles, he does so with a quote from Euripides. But to the fundamentalist mind (Eddie would probably red line the phrase as oxymoron) classical civilisation is a pagan place, while to the humanist sensibility scriptural culture, because of its association with the institutional church , is usually barbaric. To one splendid Ignatian companion, however, the two belonged together as the blackboard and the chalk, so that he could speak in a senior classroom, after prayer at the start of the session, of the homosexual organisation of the fifth-century Greek army or of bisexuality in antiquity, at the time when either dispensation was a criminal activity in the Irish state and when the dislike of the gay individual was as pronounced and as pathological as the dislike of the Roman Catholic clergy is today.

Asked by a boy in the senior school what he most looked forward to after his death, he said: "I want to spend my first thousand years talking to Sophocles". (Did he know that the dramatist's Antigone had been called the fifth gospel by Simone Weil?) And again, preaching to a packed congregation in the school chapel at midnight mass on Christmas Eve, the feast of the incarnation, he declared: “Because of what we are celebrating here tonight. I am speaking to a gathering of immortals”.

Some of his former students are still fearful that eternal life and immortal life may not be the same thing. More of us again have given up altogether on the hereinafter. But Edmund Keane was a scholar and a very gentle man and I leave the adjectivity in his hands. In an ordinary and ordained life he taught us all, men and boys, that continuity is a form of constancy, that constancy is an act of fidelity, and that fidelity is the behaviour of love. I hope that he wept tears at the sight of heaven, just as he wept on the marble steps of the Propylaea on the Acropolis in Athens in 1965 and cried out among the tourists: "How beautiful! How beautiful!"

His articles appeared in the Sacred Heart Messenger and not in Concilium; his parish work during the summer adjournments was in Britain and not in Bolivia; but his dedication, on the long gravel drive to the long millennium, to the two discredited creeds of the Jew and the Greek - to the Way, the Truth and the Life on the one hand and to the true, the Good and the Beautiful - was a threshold and a turning point to the students he guided.

Now he has entered, more deeply than ever before, the society of Jesus.

Aidan Matthews

Interfuse No 106 : Autumn 2000

FATER EDMUND KEANE SJ

Joe Brennan

Father Edmund Keane was born on July 28th 1916 and died in St. Vincent's Private on 11th May 2000. His primary education was in his home-town. He went to Clongowes for his secondary education where he was an above average student, good at games, particularly tennis. He matriculated in 5th year and entered the Society in Emo in September 1933.

He did a Classics degree in UCD, gaining first-class honours. He was an exceptionally bright student and had no difficulty in putting either Greek or Latin words to the popular tunes of the day or songs from Gilbert and Sullivan or other operettas.

This ease in the Classics was evident to his students in Gonzaga in a teaching career of 40 years. To a professional ease was added an enthusiasm for the intellectual and linguistic challenge Greek and Latin demand. A past pupil, Aidan Matthews, wrote of him in an obituary in the Irish Times:

“... he was so self effacing that most of us discovered his background in Ballina only by reading the death notice which his community placed in a newspaper, and so self-possessed that the other possibilities of his apostolate - the prestige of service overseas, say, or of academic ambitions as a classicist - didn't distract him for a moment from his daily obligations as a mentor and a friend to a multitudinous middle-class kids cogging Xenophon and Virgil from their inky, broken-down text-books”.

His own course of studies took the normal course; Philosophy in Tullabeg, two years regency in Belvedere, one in Mungret, Theology and ordination in Milltown. He did his tertianship in Auriesville, New York, and particularly enjoyed the chance to ski, skate and play ice-hockey, once again showing his natural athletic abilities.

For two years he was in Leeson Street as assistant Editor of Studies and Editor of the Irish Monthly. In 1951 he went to Gonzaga where he remained for almost 50 years. He founded the Classics Department there, but also helped in many other fields, especially rugby, and above all, tennis. In a fitting tribute to his contribution to Gonzaga, a group of past pupils have commissioned the renewal of the College courts with a savannah-grass surface as a memorial to Eddie and his contribution to Gonzaga.

In more recent decades he had developed a pusillus grex on Sunday mornings in the Domestic Chapel. His insights were greatly valued. In the words of one of the most regular members he was “holy, intelligent, very well informed and obviously a scholar. He was very kind and possessed a very natural dignity”.

In community he made a tremendous contribution to recreation. His joy with words and word-plays, his interest in current affairs, his enthusiasm for all forms of sports meant that all benefited from his wit and wisdom. Yet in all of this he was basically a reserved man, rarely sharing his religious insights. While no stoic or sophist - he could be devastatingly critical of the 'culture' of the classical world - he did not believe in wearing his heart on his sleeve.

While the boys might not know of his Mayo origins, the community knew of his pietas. He was proud to bring his cousin, President Mary Robinsion, to visit the house. He delighted in the company of his nephews and nieces, especially Dillie Keane, the well-known founder of “Fascinating Aida”. As one of his nephews wrote; “To us he was so constant, such a rock of good sense, kindly and humorous, that we will miss him greatly”.

Many of his past-pupils speak highly of him. He kept up a correspondence with many of them. One writes: “I was one of those who corresponded over the years with Father Keane. I have kept all his letters and agree with you that they were all minor works of art, carefully crafted and full of information and insightful analysis, as he would have wished. I shall be doubly sure now to safeguard them”.

His reputation with the lay staff was particularly high. While he had his natural reserve, he was open to all. They found him “extraordinarily civil”, with a positive attitude to all. Many enjoyed his play with words and responded to it. But behind it all they knew him to be “a dedicated priest and don”"

For many years he wrote a most popular article in the Messenger, “If you see what I mean”. They were a perfect demonstration of learning worn lightly. Yet they had a deeper purpose behind them, as the title implied. Clearly in all his work this balance of the sacred and the profane was something which he did naturally, though greatly aided by grace. This balance was expressed by Aidan Matthews in his obituary:

“His articles appeared in the Sacred Heart Messenger and not in Concilium; his parish work during the summer adjournments was in Britain and not in Bolivia; but his dedication, on the long gravel drive to the long millennium, to the two discredited creeds of the Jew and the Greek - to the way, the Truth and the Life on the one hand and to the true, the Good and the Beautiful - was a threshold and a turning point to the students he guided.

Now he has entered, more deeply than ever before, the society of Jesus."

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2000

Obituary

Edmund Keane SJ

Eddie Keane - known with much more affection than stringency as “Neddie” to generations of Gonzaga students lived a long and an ordinary life which will almost certainly be forgotten. Fame asks of its candidates the proofs of ego and the protocols of conquest, and neither in any way interested this very benign, bookish man who taught classics in a quiet secondary school through a half-century of planetary atrocity and apocalypse.

In fact, he was so self-effacing that most of us discovered his background in Ballina only by reading the death notice which his community placed in a newspaper; and so self-possessed that the other possibilities of his apostolate--the prestige of service overseas, for example, or of academic ambitions as a classicist-didn't distract him for a moment from his daily obligations as a mentor and a friend to multitudinous middle-class kids cogging Xenophon and Virgil from their inky, broken-down textbooks.

Eight and nine-year-olds who served Eddie's mass - the old Tridentine rite of Pius V in the little scented oratories of the priests' house - won't have forgotten that familiar kindness of his at the far end of their schooldays, when bewilderment over the black-letter and the red-letter Latin of the altar-server's laminated sheet would cause the affectionate face to turn, smile, simplify, and set right, as the smells of breakfast rose up from the kitchens and oriental blossom drifted across the tennis courts. And, by the same token, 18- and 19 year-olds who participated in the late 1960s in the new vernacular Mass of Paul VI won't have forgotten the period after the Council, years of turmoil and resurgence, the glory days of the Jesuits under their second Ignatius, Arrupe the Basque, as the order reinvented itself in the name of liberation theology and the preferential obligation for the poor, when Father Keane was still there with Catullus in one hand and the Psalter in the other, trying to twin Jerusalem and Athens, the Greco-Roman idea and the Judeo-Christian ideal.

This was no small achievement. When the Lord scolds Saul on the road to Damascus in the Acts of the Apostles, he does so with a quote from Euripides. But to the fundamentalist mind (Eddie would probably red-line the phrase as an oxymoron) classical civilisation is a pagan place, while to the humanist sensibility scriptural culture, because of s association with the institutional church, is usually barbaric. To one splendid Ignatian companion, however, the two belonged together as naturally as the blackboard and the chalk, so that he could speak in a senior classroom, after the prayer at the start of the ses sion, of the homosexual organisation of the fifth-century Greek army or of bisexuality in antiquity, at a time where either dispensation was a criminal activity in the Irish state and when the dislike of the gay individual was as pronounced and as pathological as the dislike of the Roman Catholic clergy is today.

Asked by a boy in the senior school what he most looked forward to after his death, he said “I want to spend the first thousand years talking to Sophocles”. (Did he know that the dramatist's Antigone had been called the fifth gospel by Simone Weil?) And again, preaching to a packed congregation in the school chapel at midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, the feast of the Incarnation, he declared: “Because of what we are celebrating here tonight, I am speaking to a gathering of immortals”.

Some of his former students are still fearful that eternal life and immortal life may not be the one and same thing. More of us again have given up altogether on the hereinafter. But Edmund Keane was a scholar and a very gentle man, and I leave the adjectivity in his hands. In an ordinary and ordained life he taught us all, men and boys, that continuity is a form of constancy, that constancy is an act of fidelity, and that fidelity is the behaviour of love. I hope that he wept tears at the sight of Heaven, just as he wept on the marble steps of the Propylaea on the Acropolis in Athens in 1965 and cried out among the tourists: “How beautiful! How beautiful!”

His articles appeared in the Sacred Heart Messinger and not in Concilium; his parish work during the summer adjournments was in Britain and not Bolivia; but his dedication, on the long gravel drive to the third millennium, to the two discredited creeds of the Jew and the Greek-to the Way, the Truth and the Life on one hand and to the Truth, the Good and the Beautiful on the other—was a threshold and a turning point for the students he guided. Now he has entered, more deeply than ever before, into the Society of Jesus.

Aidan Matthews

Keaney, Joseph, 1948-2021, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/2357
  • Person
  • 22 December 1948-20 July 2021

Born: 22 December 1948, Galway City
Entered: 07 September, 1966, St Mary’s Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 23 June 1978, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows: 22 August 1988, Kitwe, Zambia
Died: 20 July 2021, St Ignatius, Lusaka, Zambia - Southern Africa Province (SAP)

Transcribed : HIB to ZAM 22 August 1988

1966-1968 St Mary’s, Emo
1968-1971 Rathfarnham Castle - studying
1971-1973 Milltown Park - studying Philosophy
1973-1975 Canisius College, Chikuni, Zabia - Regency, studying language
1975-1977 Milltown Park - studying Theology
1977-1978 Tabor House - studying Theology at Milltown
1978-1979 Missionary Institute, The Ridgeway, London, England - studying Theology
1979-1980 St Kizito Pastoral Centre, Monze, Zambia
1980-1982 Catholic Church, Namwala, Zambia - Parish Priest
1982-1983 Galway - Chaplain at Coláiste Iognáid
1983-198 Jesuit Residence, Kitwe, Zambia - teaching
1986-1987 Joint HIB/BRI Tertianship - Tullabeg and St Beuno’s
1987-1993 Jesuit Residence, Kitwe, Zambia - teaching
1993-199 St Ignatius, Lusaka, Zambia

https://jesuitssouthern.africa/2021/07/20/fr-joseph-keaney-sj-rip/
RIP
Fr Joseph Keaney SJ
22 December 1948 – 20 July 2021

The Society of Jesus (Jesuits) mourns the loss of Fr Joseph Keaney SJ.

After a long battle with serious illness he passed away peacefully this afternoon, Tuesday 20 July 2021, at St Ignatius Jesuit Community in Lusaka. Fr Keaney will be remembered for his pastoral care and missionary zeal. He was a friend to many and will be fondly remembered.

We commend Fr Keaney to the Lord, knowing that he is now at peace and has no more pain.

Kelly, Joseph A, 1931-2008, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/778
  • Person
  • 27 May 1931-05 December 2008

Born: 27 May 1931, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1963, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1967, Loyola University, Chicago IL, USA
Died: 05 December 2008, Jersey City, NJ USA

Based at St Malachy’s West 49th St, New York NY, USA at the time of death

Youngest Brother of Bob Kelly (ZAM) - RIP 2005 and Michael Kelly - RIP 2021

by 1966 at Cornell, Ithaca NY, USA (BUF) studying
by 1967 at Loyola Chicago (CHG) studying
by 1969 at St Peter’s College, New Jersey NJ, USA (NEB) working
by 1995 at St Malachy’s, New York NY, USA (NYK) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/fr-joseph-a-kelly-sj/

“Some people become priests because they love God, some because they love talking about God, and some, like Fr Joe Kelly, because they love people.” Joe had moved from Dublin to Jersey City in 1968, and worked in particular with students, and later actors – he played a Catholic priest in City Hall with Al Pacino. The crowds who attended Joe’s funeral in Jersey City, and the memorial Mass in Milltown Chapel, showed the affection he inspired, and the impact he made during his 59 years as a Jesuit.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/celebrating-the-pastor-of-broadway-2/
Celebrating the Pastor of Broadway
Fr. Joe Kelly SJ served for years on the Boards of the Broadway Association, the Times Square Alliance, and the Mayor’s Midtown Citizens Committee. He was also the
beloved Parochial Vicar of St. Malachy’s, The Actors’ Chapel, and was responsible for having the section of 49th Street between 8th Avenue and Broadway named “St. Malachy’s Way”. He was a much-sought-after speaker and a friend to all. To honour him for his tireless work and his wonderful contributions to the Times Square neighbourhood and the entertainment community, his caricature will hang with the “greats” on the wall at Sardi’s, a well-known Broadway restaurant. The picture will be unveiled at a cocktail party on Wednesday, May 26, 5:30-7:30 pm.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr Joseph A (Joe) Kelly (1931-2008)

27th May 1931: Born in Tullamore, Co. Offaly
Early education in CBS, Tullamore (St. Columba's Classical College)
1948 - 1949: Studied engineering at UCD
7th September 1949: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1951: First Vows at Emo
1951 - 1954: Rathfarnham - English Literature and Language at UCD
1954 - 1957: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1957 - 1960: Gonzaga - Teacher
1960 - 1964: Milltown Park -Studied Theology
31st July 1963: Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1964 - 1965: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1965 - 1967: Cornell University & Loyola Chicago, USA - Sociology
2nd February 1967: Final Vows
1967 - 1968: College of Industrial Relations - Lecturer
1968 - 1993: St. Peter's College, Jersey City, USA -
1968 - 1973: Chaplain
1973 - 1988: Director of Campus Ministry
1988 - 1993: Senior Development Officer
1993 - 2008: St. Malachy's Church, 49th Street, New York City -
1993 - 2003: Parochial Vicar
2003 - 2008: Assisted in the Church
2008: St. Peter's College, New Jersey
5th December 2008: Died in hospital in New Jersey, USA.

When Fr Joe Kelly died in New Jersey, many of his friends wanted to speak and write about him. Rather than a conflated obituary, here are three distinct voices with their memories of Joe: his brother Michael who spoke at the funeral Masses in Jersey City and Milltown Park; his close friend Roddy Guerrini; and a eulogist from the congregation of St Malachy's, the Actors' Chapel in New York.

The Joe of Surprises

From Fr. Michael Kelly's homilies at Joe's funeral Masses at St. Peter's College, New Jersey, and Milltown Park, Dublin
When going through Joe's things at Saint Peter's College (Jersey City) a few days after he died, I came across the book by Father Gerard Hughes, The God of Surprises. On the fly-leaf Joe had written: “This is my favourite book. If ever you find it lying round make sure it gets back to me”. Well if Joe loved the book The God of Surprises, I am quite certain that the God of Surprises in Person loved and got a great kick out of the Joe of surprises!

Joe never failed to surprise us. He surprised everybody in 1949 when he gave up engineering studies at University College Dublin to join the Jesuits. He surprised even himself in the positive way he influenced the boys at Gonzaga in the late 1950s, when he was the first Jesuit scholastic to teach there. His extensive theological understanding surprised me in Milltown Park where fate in the person of a formal Visitor to the Irish Province appointed me to be one of his theology examiners. It was my feeling that he surprised (and greatly relieved) our mother and father by staying the course to ordination, tertianship and thereafter. He surprised Saint Peter's in Jersey City, and later Saint Malachy's on Broadway, by his stunning success as Director of Campus Ministries, pastor, homilist, counsellor, and ever in-demand baptiser, solemniser of marriages, support in time of stress and grief, and (like his namesake, Joseph of Arimathea whom we heard about in the Gospel) burier of the dead.

And his death was a surprise, something totally unexpected. Though he had been having heart and circulatory problems for quite some time, he seemed to be coping with these. But on Friday 5th December things were different. That day he was leaving Saint Malachy's and changing back to Saint Peter's where he had served for 25 years. He got to his new home early in the afternoon but complained, as he had done earlier in the day, of chest pains and overwhelming tiredness. Late in the afternoon he was taken to hospital where the authorities said they would keep him under observation for a few days. As the evening wore on, they had to give him a whole bunch of IV drips and other medical supports. But in between times he was in good form, spoke to many friends on his cell-phone, was making arrangements for the coming weekend, and asked a few close friends to come and keep him company. After chatting with these for some time, he fell into a quiet sleep and a few minutes later his friends saw that his monitor had changed from blips to a straight line. In his sleep, Joe had just slipped away into the arms of the God he loved and served so well. There was no pain, distress or trouble, but great peace and calm, and for this we must, in one of his own favourite expressions, praise and thank God.

But the thing that bowled us over most of all, Joe's family on this side of the Atlantic, was the flood of people, thousands of them from New York and Jersey City, talking of the way Joe had touched their lives and crying warm tears because he had left them. We knew that Joe was a good priest, but we didn't realize how good until we saw the outpourings of love and grief, heard the testimonials, and shared the tears of some of the thousands for whom he was so significant.

Perhaps in some ways we tended to think of him as Joe the rebel, Joe the “irreverent reverend”, or in the words of one of his close friends, as Joe the Catholic anarchist. And certainly he could be a rebel, and was critical and irreverent whenever he encountered pomposity, sham, formalism, heavy-handed clerical bureaucracy, putting rules and regulations before people, using religion to enslave instead of to set free. In this he identified wholeheartedly with the Jesus he so dearly loved who scorned the pomposity, the nit picking, the ritualistic ways and the oppressive religiosity of many of the religious leaders of his time. Joe was the same. There was no side to him and he had no time for legalism or sham in today's church. He loved pomp and circumstance and good acting in the theatre, but he had no time for anything like this in the church or for anything that might make it harder for people to experience how greatly God loved them.

Mention of the theatre reminds us of Joe's very extensive work throughout the theatre world, from front stage to back stage, and the enjoyment, strength and encouragement that he in his turn got from the support of the theatre community. And it is really marvellous to hear that his friends from the theatre world are considering a celebration to remember him, to be held in a Broadway theatre some time in the New Year.

Messages have poured into St. Malachy's website testifying to Joe's dedication as a great and concerned pastor who always tried to ensure that all should be for the best with each individual whom he contacted. Let me share with you something from two of them.

The first is from Steven Kelly who acknowledges that his lifestyle is one that is not accepted by the Catholic Church but states that because of Joe he is an active Catholic and very comfortable in being one. Steven goes on: “I can remember when our church would publish the name of the priest saying the next week's Mass. They had to stop doing that because people would only go to the Mass that Father Joe was celebrating.... I know he is in a better place ... but it's not fair to all of us remaining. He will be in my heart and head for as long as I live”.

The second comes from Charles Michel, who calls himself “an old-time member of the St. Malachy's Family”. Charles wrote:
There has been a lot of talk recently about guys named Joe. “Joe” has come to stand for any regular guy who is identified with the job he does. He and his job are almost one and the same. He does his job well because this is a natural extension of who he is at his core. This was never truer than it was for "Joe the Priest”. Of all the clergy I have ever known, I cannot think of a more priestly one than Father Joe Kelly.
And here is why ... Some men become priests because they love God. Some men, especially Jesuits, become priests because they like to think about God. And some men become priests because they love to wear robes and pretend they are God!

But Joe Kelly was a priest because he loved PEOPLE. And for him loving people WAS loving God. And since he lived in a world full of people every relationship in his life was a prayer. He didn't need to fall to his knees to commune with The Almighty. He just needed to pour a glass of good wine for a friend, cook him a gourmet meal, and tell the best story ever into the wee hours of the night. ... Father Kelly knew God because he knew Susan and Paul and Margie and Sam. He saw God in the face of everyone he knew. He did not look up to heaven to see God. Instead, on countless occasions, he found God across the dinner table and he would simply say to him or her, Isn't this a good Cabernet?”

This past Sunday one of St. Malachy's long-time parishioners shared with me her last conversation with him. Joe had said to her, “The only thing I now know is that God is love. Everything else - all rules, all the theology, all the struggle, all the guilt - is meaningless”.

Again I see how near he was to the Lord Jesus, the great lover of people, who always gave pride of place to people and their needs, no matter how exhausted he was, his heart going out to them, especially if they were in trouble or seemed harassed or dejected. And that's how it was with Joe.

And Joe identified closely with the Lord in another significant way. Both of them loved feasts, banquets, celebrations, parties – Jesus to the extent that he was criticized as being a drunkard and a glutton, Joe to the extent that, as Charles said in his message, he could so easily find God across the dinner table and make it possible for others to do the same. For Joe, every celebration, every meal with friends, was the literal fulfilment of the promise made in tonight's First Reading, that God would prepare a banquet of fine wines, of food rich and juicy, and would wipe away the tears from every cheek and take away the mourning veil covering all peoples. Even in the most desolate moments, Joe's exuberant humour, vitality, wit, and interest in finding God, brought out the presence of God in every meal and gathering, not only as the God of Surprises, but also as the God of gentle healing, rejoicing and laughter. Certainly, he found God more easily and much more surely in a glass of Chateau-neuf-de pape than in any document dealing with infallibility-de-pape! And surely this comes out in the last photo taken of him on 3rd December, just two days before he died, celebrating a meal at Ciro's Restaurant in New York with Sister Peggy and some of the other stalwart women who supported him not only as a priest but also as a person whose health situation was dicey.

And let us remember that it is through a Eucharist that we are celebrating Joe tonight. And the Eucharist is a meal, a feast, a celebration - just what Joe loved. Our Eucharist is a joyful celebration with the great Master of festivities, Jesus Himself, and we find it enriching and fulfilling and a great happiness to be here.

Alongside his deep love of God and his extensive love for everyone as a child of God (recall our First Reading tonight, “We are all children of God, though we still don't know what we are to be in the future”. Joe had an extraordinary love for all the members of his many families, his natural family here in Ireland and those who became his family in New York and Jersey City.

We were a very united family, seven of us and our parents, though we were dispersed all over the place. Like myself, Joe would have heard our mother saying, “It breaks your father's heart and mine to see you going away, and yet we are glad that you are all living far from one another, because that way we know you will stay close and will not be quarrelling”. How right she was! We never knew squabbling or bickering or falling out. Coming back home, whether to Tullamore, or Newbridge or Blackrock, was always wonderful for Joe and all of us, with great reunions all round and great celebrations. Joe idolized our father, and I'm sure this helped him experience what it meant to be loved by God as Father, And our father in Tullamore worshipped the ground Joe walked on, even to the extent of refusing to let himself die until he became aware that Joe was at his side. This great warm bond between us was what Joe wanted to re-create as he tried to strengthen the union and harmony in the families of his countless friends, students and parishioners.

Joe also had a powerfully strong love for the Jesuits, the Society of Jesus to which he belonged for more than 59 years. Just one illustration of that. Going through his personal effects last week, we came across a notebook clearly marked "private". At first we were going to put it with papers to be shredded. But earlier we nearly did the same with an envelope containing a thick wad of dollars, thinking it was an old diary. So although some things remain private even in death, I thought I'd better have a quick look at the private notebook. I flicked through the pages, and what did I find? Not a single dollar! Nothing, in fact, except blank pages with just a few thinly scribbled ones at the beginning. One of these, dated August 2002, read: “I don't know how I can ever be grateful enough to my Jesuit colleagues at America House, for all the support, encouragement and boundless love they have always given me. I could never have got on without them”. This was for his own eyes only, but it shows how much it meant to him that he was a Jesuit, a member of the Society of Jesus, the Society of love. The Jesuit Community at America House, and in earlier years the Jesuit Community at St. Peter's College, were his lifeline, the umbilical cord that bound him in love and unity to his fellow Jesuits there and to his Jesuit brethren across the world.

We were indeed proud of Joe as a first class Jesuit and an excellent priest. And Oonagh and I remain very, very proud that he was our brother.

And one last thing before we end. Joe was always very close to Ed Williams of Tullamore. They were a real Jonathan and David pair in modern times. By an extraordinary coincidence, this very day of Joe's memorial Mass, 15th December, is the first anniversary of Ed's death. The bond that united these two in life was too strong to be broken by death. But perhaps I shouldn't have said "coincidence". This was no coincidence. It was the God of Surprises, dearly loved as a Person and a book by both Ed and Joe, who brought them together again. When Joe would visit Ed in Tullamore, one of Ed's daughters would pop her head into the room where Ed was sitting and announce, “The God of Surprises is at the door”. I'm sure that when Ed realized last week that Joe was at the door of heaven he would have welcomed him ecstatically and proudly presented him, the Joe of surprises, to the God of Surprises.

When the Old Testament prophet Elijah was taken up to heaven, his follower Elisha threw Elijah's cloak over his shoulders and became a great and powerful prophet in his place. May Joe's mantle of love of God and family, loyalty and love for the Society of Jesus, joy in celebration, honesty, integrity, compassion, concern for every child of God, and joy in all God's goodness, fall on the shoulders of each one of us so that our lives may help every one we deal with to encounter the surprise and the joy of God and to recognize with Joe that in the final analysis the only thing that has meaning is that God is love.

Roddy Guerrini, for many years Joe's contemporary in the Jesuits:
I think I knew Joe Kelly fairly well. We were friends as novices and continued to communicate well all our lives though separated by distance. The funeral homily is accurate. I'll add some comments to it.

Joe was highly intelligent and sensitive to people and circumstances, what you might call the signs of the times. He would hate to be called an “intellectual”, thinking the word smacked of superiority to others or conceit of self. Those who considered themselves 'intellectuals', he would think phonies or poseurs. Consequently he never talked above peoples' heads or talked down to them. But he was a fast learner in any field he engaged. In Theology he and I repeated every evening for one hour. It was all the theology I needed for the ad grad. Joe was a gifted mimic and could take off the professors and make the dullest lecture a comedy performance. In addition he had a photographic memory and hearing once was all he needed to retain the material, a great help to me who didn't always pay attention. We developed a vocabulary of our own, code words that stood for whole theses. In exam I would hear Joe's voice in my head repeating our wild theology, and answer with a straight face in the conventional way. It made theology a very agreeable experience.

Joe is portrayed in the homily a good listener. This is fair comment but omits mention of the cost. He took many problems on himself and suffered much stress as result. Often I would suggest “detach a little”. It was not in his nature. To detach seemed like “not caring”. I do believe that this 'involvement' harmed his health and took some joy out of his life.

Eulogy in Saint Malachy's Church, Broadway (The Actors Chapel):
Joe Kelly was a lover and a love. He was a lover because, as his brother, nephew and friend said at his funeral mass, he loved God and he loved people and he loved bringing God to people. He was a love because he was a warm, caring, compassionate dynamo, with an unparalleled sense of humour and such a deep humility that you just couldn't help but love him. He walked the walk – “What you do unto others, you do unto me”.

He always remembered the forgotten. Even when he was feeling weak, he managed to visit the elderly, the sick and the dying. Years ago, he had a friend who had a relative in prison. When he would visit him, the man would tell him how much he hated prison food and would love to have veal scaloppini. So, as only Joe would do, the next time he visited him, he went with a veal scaloppini sandwich wrapped in foil and plastic and strapped to his leg.

Agnes Sheehy and Michael Kelly were married on April 13, 1919 in Tullamore, County Offaly Ireland. They had 7 children, four boys and three girls; Joe was the youngest. Three of the boys became Jesuit priests: two of them served in Africa and Joe ended up here in the U.S. (lucky for us). He entered the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus at the age of 18. He was not a proud man, but he was proud of that S.J. after his name. He always took his orders in his stride, and in his early days he was assigned to be a beekeeper. He learned to love it and became quite an expert on bees and honey (and you thought he was just an expert on wine).

While studying at University in Ireland, he had to prepare a paper that was sent to Oxford for review and then he had to have a personal meeting with his reviewer, who just happened to be JRR Tolkien. During their meeting, Tolkien told Joe about a book he was currently working on called “The Lord of the Rings”.

After graduation in 1954, he became an English teacher in Ireland, and his students still love him to this day. Many have kept in touch all these years, have brought him back to Ireland to baptize and marry their children and have visited him here in NY. In 2002 they had a special dinner in Ireland to honor him. Joe was an avid bird watcher and was passionate about literature, poetry and music. He could recite entire passages from Shakespeare and frequently a poetic quote would pop out of his mouth. He had no favorite poet – he loved them all.

He left Ireland in 1965 with a heavy heart to come to the U.S. to study labour relations at Loyola in Chicago and in Cornell in NY, but ultimately he fell in love with America.

As head of Campus Ministry at St. Peter's College in Jersey City, he started the “How To Club”. He would bring the students into New York City to go to the theatre and opera, and took them to fine restaurants and taught them proper etiquette and “how to” order food and wine.

He loved opera and Gilbert & Sullivan. In fact, he usually sat there mouthing the words to the songs because he knew them all. He loved theatre. About a month ago, he called me one night and said, “I just have to share this with you – I just had the most incredible night on Broadway that I have ever had”. Phil Smith had taken him to opening night of Billy Elliott and they sat behind Elton Jon, with Mayor Bloomberg in the row behind them. Pity that they have no idea how lucky they were to be sitting so close to such a great man.

I was very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him on a number of projects for St. Malachy's so I could see him in action first hand. We worked for a whole year on the centennial dinner that was held in January 2003 and many, many hours were spent writing the keepsake journal with St. Malachy's history that was given out at the dinner, Because he was so well loved in the community, people generously responded to him and ultimately $250,000 profit was made at that dinner.

Through his tireless efforts, there is now a “St. Malachy's Way” sign at the corner of 49th Street and Eighth Avenue. He jumped through many hoops to finally get the approval and a wonderful street-naming ceremony was held in June 2003, complete with a Proclamation from the Mayor declaring June 10, 2003 “St. Malachy's Day”. He was beaming - he loved St. Malachy's and one of his dreams became a reality that day.

Aside from being active in the church, Joe was a valued and well-respected member of the community, serving on the Broadway Association, on the board of the Times Square Alliance and was appointed by the Mayor to the Mayor's Midtown Citizens Committee. The Catholic Church couldn't have asked for a better person to represent them in the secular world because everyone loved Joe Kelly and he brought a humanity to the church which attracted people from all faiths.

Joe Kelly was a friend to all, from the famous to the forgotten. He lived life to the fullest, gave unselfishly of himself, touched more lives that he could have ever imagined, and always held fast to his love of God.

I would like to close with a quotation from one of his homilies in 2001:

Years ago there was a play, a great musical here on Broadway. It was called “La Cage Aux Folles” and included a song called “The Best of Times”.
The best of times is now.
What's left of summer but a faded rose?
The best of times is now
For tomorrow, well, who knows?
Who knows?
So hold this moment fast
and live and love as hard as you know how.
And make this moment last because the best of times is now.

Then he went on to say,
“Our Lord himself said it a long time ago in the Sermon on the Mount: ‘Take today for today. Today's troubles are enough. Leave tomorrow. Leave the end of the world, leave all of that – leave even our own death in the hands of a loving and a compassionate God’.”

Joe Kelly did just that – he lived and loved as hard as he knew how. How lucky are we to have had him in our lives.

Interfuse No 162 : Winter 2015

REMEMBERING JOE KELLY

Fr Joseph Kelly (1931-2008)

In the years before he died in Jersey City in December 2008, I seldom met my brother Joe. But almost every time we managed to meet he would at some point say to me, “Michael, when I'm dead and buried no one will remember me”. Little did he know how wrong he was! Within two years of his death, the Broadway Association was instrumental in having his “caricature” hung in the renowned Sardi's Restaurant in New York, along with the greats of the theatre, film and entertainment industry. This was in recognition of the unique pastoral relationship Joe had developed with the Broadway community-actors, choristers, theatre staff - as their special friend and priest-on-call. A year later, Mary Higgins Clark, the “Agatha Christie” of American detective fiction, dedicated her novel I'll Walk Alone to Joe's memory, with the words:

Always a twinkle in this Jesuit's eye
Always a smile on his handsome face
Always faith and compassion overflowing his soul
He was the stuff of which saints are made
When all heaven protested his absence
His Creator called him home.

Some time later, in December 2013, St. Peter's Jesuit University in Jersey City dedicated to his memory a new chaplaincy unit, The Joseph A Kelly SJ Office of Campus Ministry, so that, in the words of the University President, his legacy and love could be experienced by the entire St. Peter's community, including those who never had the good fortune of knowing him personally.

Now Joe is once more being remembered in Times Square in the heart of New York where every day throughout the month of July 2016 one of the huge billboards or “signages” will recall his name, “in memory of a wonderful priest”.

At the time of his death, one of Joe's theatre-world friends wrote: “Some men become priests because they love God. Some men, especially Jesuits, become priests because they like to think about God. .... But Joe Kelly was a priest because he loved people. For him loving people was loving God. And since he lived in a world full of people, every relationship in his life was a prayer. He didn't need to fall to his knees to commune with the Almighty. He just needed to pour a glass of good wine for a friend, cook him a gourmet meal, and tell the best story ever into the wee hours of the night”.

How better could he be remembered? Thank God that the memory of a dedicated Irish Jesuit survives in New York, in St. Malachy's (the Actors’ Chapel), on Broadway, in Sardi's and in the chaplaincy unit at St. Peter's Jesuit University and the annual university walk which he instituted to gather funds to provide international food assistance. Joe, if this is what you mean by saying that no one will remember you after you are gone, let every one of us live so that we can be “forgotten” in a similar way!

Michael J Kelly

Laheen, Kevin A, 1919-2019, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/854
  • Person
  • 18 February 1919-26 March 2019

Born: 18 February 1919, Bray, Co Wicklow & Dublin
Entered: 16 September 1938, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1952, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1955, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 26 March 2019, Highfield Healthcare, Whitehall, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

Brother of Br Christopher J Laheen - LEFT 08 September 1942
Early Education at Presentation College Bray, Co Wicklow; Belvedere College SJ

1940-1943 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1943-1946 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1946-1949 Belvedere College SJ - Regency : Teacher; Choir Master; Studying H Dip in Education at UCD (46-47)
1949-1953 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1953-1954 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1954-1957 Mungret College SJ - Teacher; Liturgical Music; Librarian
1957-1962 Gonzaga College SJ - Teacher; Games Master; Subminister
1962-1985 Rathfarnham - Mission Staff; Giving Retreats
1981 Association Rathfarnham
1983 Promoter of Apostleship of Prayer; Writer
1985-2019 Leeson St - Mission Staff; Giving Missions and Directs Spiritual Exercises; Promoter of Apostleship of Prayer; Writer
2001 Council Member of Knights of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem and Ecclesiastical Master of Ceremonies
2014 Highfield Healthcare, Swords Road, Dublin 9

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/kevin-laheen-rip/

Kevin Laheen RIP
Fr Kevin Laheen SJ, died peacefully on Tuesday 26 March 2019 in the Highfield Healthcare centre, Drumcondra. His Jesuit brothers, family and friends gathered for his funeral Mass in Milltown Park Chapel at 11am the following Friday. Fr Kevin died just a few weeks after his 100th birthday which he celebrated with the same family and friends and fellow Jesuits, back in February. Charlie Davy SJ was the principal celebrant and homilist on Friday. He warmly welcomed those present and in particular the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre and those friends who had been so faithful visiting Fr Kevin in his last five years in Highfield. He also spoke briefly about Fr Kevin’s life, noting that he was born in 1919, so his childhood was in the troubled years before and after the founding of the state. He grew up during economic war of the 1930s and lived through the second world war as a scholastic. “They were authoritarian times in the Church and in the Jesuits,” said Fr Charlie, adding that this “did not favour a more rounded personal formation... but today we thank the Lord that Kevin along with seven others of his Belvedere year responded to the Lord’s call.” That calling led Fr Kevin to become a teacher first, then for the greater part of his active life he was a preacher of parish missions the length and breadth of the country, helping many on their journey of faith, according to Fr Charlie. In later years he wrote books on Mungret and Tullabeg, the Mission crosses of Killaloe as well as many articles so that there would be a historical record of work done by his brother Jesuits of earlier times. In his homily Fr Charlie spoke about Fr Kevin’s association with the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, whom he said, gave Kevin great support in his latter years, and share his love of the Holy Land. Fr Kevin had brought many groups there to visit the places where Jesus walked, and preached and healed. He also spoke about the ‘Our Father’, as the prayer that came to him when he was reflecting on what to preach about at Kevin’s requiem Mass. “It seemed appropriate,” said Fr Charlie, adding, “It’s one of the first prayers we learned at home. A prayer utterly familiar to Kevin from his daily Mass, and the morning and evening prayer of the Church which formed his daily prayer routine. It was surely a prayer that would have come to life for him in the Holy Land as he travelled through isolated places where Jesus would have gone off to pray to his Father.” But it was the words ‘Our Father’ that Fr Charlie singled out as the most important phrase of the prayer, noting that Jesus invites us into the intimacy of his divine family allowing us to address God as ‘Abba Father’, encouraging to pray with the confidence of a child before its father. And he went on: “If Jesus asks us to say Our Father it surely means that we never pray in isolation from the needs of all our brothers and sisters. While it is natural that our own needs our foremost in our prayers it can never be the whole agenda. The intercessory dimension of praying for others has to grow and grow. And so it is that today we put our own concerns to one side as we reach out to pray to the Lord for Fr. Kevin and also all those with whom he lived and worked, those who crossed his paths: those who were helped by him but also those who maybe were hurt by something he said or did through human frailty”. Fr Charlie also referenced the phrase ‘lead us not into temptation,’ noting that there is a great need to make this prayer in a world of so much violence and injustice. And finally he noted that, “The Our Father provides a sort of road map for Christian prayer and life. To let this prayer become part of we can follow St. Ignatius’ recommendation of praying it slowly, one phrase at a time.” He then invited all the congregation to take a few moment to pray the words ‘thy kingdom come’ silently and slowly together so that, he said, “God’s kingdom would take deeper root in our hearts and in our actions and finally praying for Kevin that he might be made ready to enter his eternal home in God’s kingdom.” Fr Kevin was cremated in Glasnevin Crematorium, after the funeral Mass. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

Obituary

Kevin Laheen, SJ

Born in 1919, Kevin’s early years were lived in the troubled around the founding of the state, growing up during the economic war of the 1930s and living through the second world war as a scholastic. They were authoritarian times in the Church and in the Society, a fact which did not favour a personal formation.
After school, along with seven others of his Belvedere year, he entered the novitiate in Emo. As the last survivor, he prayed daily for that group. Kevin followed the usual formation: an Arts degree in UCD, philosophy in Tullabeg, regency in Belvedere and theology in Milltown Park. It was there he was ordained in 1952.
His early ministry was in the schools: Mungret 1954-57 and Gonzaga 1957-62. Kevin was a good teacher and was games’ master in Gonzaga. His strong voice and commanding presence meant he had no problem with class discipline. Pupils knew that “ the RevKev” could fly into a temper. It did not happen often and as pupils I don’t think it bothered us much. We learned to adapt to the personalities of different teachers, most of whom we liked. However, years later I met a class mate at a union dinner, whose anger was aroused at the mention of Kevin’s name. As a pupil, this doctor never played rugby, but loved to kick a soccer ball about with a few others after school. As games’ master, Kevin forbade the playing of soccer. Rugby only.
It was in his early forties that Kevin joined the Mission staff, to which he would be assigned for a number of decades. This new apostolate was a good move for him. He had a desire to preach the gospel to adults willing to listen. I may be wrong, but his rector, Sean Hughes, might also have encouraged this new direction!
Kevin liked driving and I imagine he enjoyed the freedom to travel the length and breadth of the country and follow up his historical interests. He also enjoyed giving community retreats in convents.
It was during these years that he began to visit the Holy Land. Over many years he led groups there. Pilgrimages which opened a space in people’s hearts to imagine gospel stories in situ. In recognition of his work, he was made a knight of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem. He was a council member of the Irish knights. They celebrated an annual Mass in Knock at which Kevin concelebrated until the year before he died. This group was a great source of support to him.
In later years he wrote books on Mungret and Tullabeg, the Mission Crosses of Killaloe as well as articles in Collectanea Hibernica so that there would be a historical record of work done by his brother Jesuits of earlier times. A final volume on Mungret was never completed. He wrote a life of St. Patrick and edited a prayer book on the Stations of the Cross with beautiful images.
The Society’s training during Kevin’s time of formation was heavily intellectual. The affective side was left to nature, one’s contemporaries and family. Unfortunately, Kevin’s spiritual and intellectual development was not integrated with his emotions. This was the tragedy of his life. Was Kevin ever able to talk in confidence and receive help?
It is hard truth to admit, but Kevin’s relationship with one woman caused trauma to her and her family. I suspect that this relationship may have traumatised him too and exacerbated his anger both towards himself and those with whom he lived. His increasing deafness was painful for both him and his community.
Due to complaints from a male member of staff, a moment was reached when it was felt that Kevin could no longer live in the Leeson St. Cherryfield, did not feel resourced to take him.
So began his final four plus years in Highfield Health Care on the Swords Rd. For Kevin, this was exile, no longer fit to live with his brothers. While he had a pleasant room, the whole unit was under lock and key. Most of the men suffered from some form of dementia. Highfield did have a chapel, but access would probably have been dependent on a member of staff accompanying him.
Two women friends, a Holy Faith sister, Marie Therese Carney and Nora Finnegan, a single woman, were his ever regular visitors. Jesuits also visited, but often found that Kevin was not there. Sr Marie Therese used take him out for lunch and later to her convent in Glasnevin where he would spend a few hours and celebrate Mass. Nora Finnegan used take out to lunch once a week.
Five weeks before he died, he celebrated his 100th birthday. It was an event that he looked forward to. I think he saw it as a sort of final accomplishment. It was celebrated fittingly in Highfield with Mass and a meal in the presence of Jesuits, family and friends.
As he approaches the Light of Truth, I feel sure that Kevin would want to acknowledge his failures, seek forgiveness and ask of our prayers. Even if little known to most of us, he was our brother.
Fr. Kevin brought many groups to the Holy Land to see the places where Jesus lYou, his friends in the order of the Holy Sepulchre who gave him such support in his old age shared his affection for the Holy Land which you express in supporting a school in Jordan.
Last week when I began to think of what gospel I should choose for Fr. Kevin’s Mass this gospel of Jesus teaching his disciples the Lord’s prayer came to me. It seemed appropriate.
It’s one of the first prayers we learned at home. A prayer utterly familiar to Kevin from his daily Mass, and the morning and evening prayer of the Church which formed his daily prayer routine. It was surely a prayer that would have come to life for him in the Holy Land as he travelled through isolated places where Jesus would have gone off to pray to his Father.
The most important phrase is surely the first: Our Father. Only Jesus can truly call God Father. He is his only Son. But Jesus invites us into the intimacy of his divine family allowing us to address God as Abba Father, encouraging to pray with the confidence of a child before its father.
If Jesus asks us to say Our Father it surely means that we never pray in isolation from the needs of all our brothers and sisters. While it is natural that our own needs our foremost in our prayers it can never be the whole agenda. The intercessory dimension of praying for others has to grow and grow. And so it is that today we put our own concerns to one side as we reach out to pray to the Lord for Fr. Kevin and also all those with whom he lived and worked, those who crossed his paths: those who were helped by him but also those who maybe were hurt by something he said or did through human frailty.
Our Father may your name be held holy: be treated with respect and reverence. Our relationship with God is a wonderful mixture of both intimacy and reverence.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done....Jesus teaches his disciples and us too to put the things of God first: to pray for the coming of his kingdom of love and justice. It is a challenge to seek first the things of God and to trust that He will give us what is best for us. Ad maiorem Dei Gloriam: we seek God’s glory first and try not get in the way.
Give us this day our daily bread...how we need, day after day, for the Lord to nourish us in faith, hope and love.
Forgive us as we forgive others....a difficult prayer? Surely a grace to pray for. As Fr Kevin makes his final journey home to the Lord we pray that he may receive this grace.
Jim Tarpey....
Finally we pray to be led safely through temptation and delivered from evil. How great a need to make this prayer in a world of so much violence and injustice.
The Our Father provides a sort of road map for Christian prayer and life. To let this prayer become part of we can follow St. Ignatius’ recommendation of praying it slowly, one phrase at a time.
Let’s take a few moments to pray “thy kingdom come” silently, slowly repeating it again and again. Praying for ourselves that the God’s kingdom take deeper root in our hearts and in our actions and finally praying for Kevin that he might be made ready to enter his eternal home in God’s kingdom.
Pray for us, O holy mother of God that he might be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Pray for us, O holy mother of God that we too might one day be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Leahy, Maurice A, 1920-2004, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/732
  • Person
  • 22 July 1920-26 October 2004

Born: 22 July 1920, County View Terrace, Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1937, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1952, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1978, Mazabuka, Seminary, Choma, Zambia
Died: 26 October 2004, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin Dublin - Zambia-Malawi province (ZAM)

Part of the Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia community at the time of death.

Brother of Henry (Harry) Leahy - LEFT 10 January 1944 for medical reasons

Transcribed HIB to ZAM : 01 December 1977

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Brother of Henry (Harry) Leahy - LEFT 10 January 1944 for medical reasons

◆ Companions in Mission 1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
To look at Fr Maurice, a rather frail figure, one would not imagine that he was a fine rugby player on the school team during his schooldays at the Crescent College, Limerick. In a way, Maurice was a Limerick man through and through. He was born there on 22 July 1920, grew up there and went to school there. He was a bright student coming top of his class year by year and winning many prizes. He was a good sportsman and athlete, playing on the school junior and senior rugby teams. With those long thin legs of his he was, not surprisingly, the Boys’ High Jump Champion of Limerick.

He joined the Society in 1937 at Emo Park, took Latin and History at University, studied philosophy at Tullabeg and went back to Limerick for regency to his old school. After ordination at Milltown Park, Dublin, in 1952, he spent six years at Gonzaga College in Dublin teaching and holding the job of minister. From 1960 to 1972 he was back in Limerick, first in Crescent College teaching and then for five years at Mungret College, again teaching and vice-superior at the Apostolic School. His qualities of simplicity and outstanding patience and kindness must have made teaching rather a trial.

1966 seems to have been a turning point in his life as regards work. He moved to the Sacred Heart Church in Limerick as a pastoral worker for six years, functioning quietly and successfully. In 1972 another big change took place in his life, this time he was missioned to Zambia at the age of 52 where he spent the rest of his life at pastoral work. After his ordination he had asked to be sent to the missions (Hong Kong) and twenty years later his wish was answered (Zambia).

To begin with, he studied ciTonga at Chikuni and then moved to Namwala (1973) as parish priest and superior there. Here he had plenty of practice at the language as he worked in the parish with all that that entailed. After nine years there he was transferred to Assumption Parish in Mazabuka for a year before moving to the Sugar Estate at Nakambala, where he worked for eleven years in the parish, ten years of these as superior and eight years as parish priest.

His younger brother Harry singles out his gentleness and simplicity. He was always kindly and thoughtful, never bad-tempered or argumentative. He really was ‘the good peaceable man’ of Thomas a Kempis. Everyone was good in Maurice’s eyes. His brother tells of his happiness during these years in Zambia. He was at home among the villagers in Namwala, the urban dwellers in Mazabuka and Nakambala, as well as the sick and feeble in Chikuni hospital. As one person put it: ‘A man of simple and quaint goodness, who had his heart in the right place’.

In 1994, Maurice now 74, moved to Chikuni again as pastoral worker. He was a very dedicated priest, a man of God and deeply spiritual. This the people recognized in their own perceptive way. He was an easy person to live with as he was so undemanding even as a superior. He became a charismatic, again in his own quiet way and became a much-sought-after giver of directed retreats.

He developed a peculiar up-down characteristic in his speech, one minute bass and the next falsetto. This affected his preaching in public but it did not interfere with his retreat giving. He was a very methodical man. The data on the outstations where he supplied were kept up to-date so that the priest who took over the outstations, when Maurice was transferred to Chikuni, had a clear picture of each of these outstations and of the people there, who were being prepared for baptism, for marriage and so on.

At the end of 2003, he was operated on in Lusaka for a colostomy and moved to John Chula House. While there the doctor remarked that Maurice had the recuperative powers of a man of 25! – Maurice was 83 years of age at the time. The doctor suggested that he return to Ireland for the next operation for a number of reasons. This Maurice did on 14 February 2004. The operation was a success. Later, while at Cherryfield Lodge, he suffered a stroke, unrelated to the operation and he died on 26 October 2004 in Dublin but he was buried in his own beloved Limerick.

Lee, William M, 1915-1992, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/509
  • Person
  • 07 December 1915-04 June 1992

Born: 07 December 1915, Waterford City, County Waterford
Entered: 09 October 1934, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 30 July 1947, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1950, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 04 June 1992, St Vincent's Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death

by 1951 at Chikuni, Chisekesi, N Rhodesia (POL Mi) working - third wave of Zambian Missioners

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Fr Bill went through the usual studies of the Jesuits, was ordained in 1947 and after tertianship was posted to Limerick. Plans were then afoot to send Irish Jesuits to what was then Northern Rhodesia (Zambia). Bill conceived a keen desire NOT to go there. He was just settling down in the Crescent when he received a letter telling him to get a medical check-up with a view of going to Northern Rhodesia. The Irish Jesuits had been asked to help out their Polish colleagues there. So in 1950, nine Irish Jesuits sailed from Ireland, including Fr Bill.

For many years, Fr Zabdyr had moved out from Chikuni, his base, in order to set up elementary schools in various places. In 1951, two of these places (Kasiya and Chivuna) became new mission stations. Kasiya was set up by Fr. Bill Lee in 1951, the year after he arrived in the country. Later in December, he was joined by Fr J Gill. A letter from Fr Bill to Fr Zabdyr dated 17 June 1951 reads:

‘I have been in “permanent residence” here since the beginning of May, more or less, and will continue so for the future. I am busy building my Mission-station and it is going fairly satisfactorily. A space has been cleared in the bush, foundations are down, a well dug in the river, and grass for thatching cut and piled. After that, things will go smoothly as far as I can foresee. Somewhere near the end of July the house will be finished as far as I can do it this year. I may have to wait until later for cement to make proper floors. lt will be a two-roomed house, with a small kitchen near it. In the meantime I have a class going each evening for Christians who have not married in church’.

When Fr Gill arrived and a 250cc motorbike was available, Fr Gill looked after the station and set out to visit the centres of Christianity within a radius of up to 30 miles. Bill was transferred to Fumbo and later to Chikuni where he taught and was Spiritual Father to the African Sisters. He was also, for a time, secretary to the Bishop of Lusaka.

Having spent seven years in Zambia, he returned to Ireland to Gonzaga College for 30 years, teaching physics etc. up to 1987. The remaining five years of his life he spent at University Hall and at 35 Lower Leeson Street. He died in St Vincent's Hospital on 4th June 1992.

Bill came from a large Waterford family and was distinctive among them, ‘he alone of the 10 children greeted orders with “Why” and all information with “How do you know”? and he always enjoyed a good argument as much as other children enjoyed a party. He endearingly retained these characteristics to the end’. He loved discussion and debate but his kindness, good humour and generosity were no less noticed and appreciated. He was a good teacher and had a marvellous rapport with his students who really loved him. He was a colourful member of his community, enjoying the interchange and contributing much to it. He always had a sense of wonder. As he watched a fellow Jesuit perform some simple 'magic' tricks, he would be enthralled and laugh.

In pastoral work he was most successful, if somewhat diffident. Indeed he was suspicious of those who trafficked in certainties. Nor was he one for laying down an inflexible code of behaviour. He accepted people as he found them and in whatever circumstances they were in. He was keen to help them to make sense of their lives in their own way and to give their own meaning to their lives. He never entertained the idea that he could solve all people's problems but he did try to help others to live more easily with those human and religious problems that everyone experiences and that are beyond solution in this life. He was especially good with those whose faith was fragile, whose link with the Church was tenuous or whose practice was spasmodic. He himself lived happily with questions unanswered and problems unsolved but with the absolute certainty that the day would come when he would get his answers and solutions.

Pulmonary fibrosis was what took him in the end. Actually he had planned to visit Zambia with his sister in the autumn of the year he died but the Lord had other plans for him.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 75 : Christmas 1993 & Interfuse No 82 : September 1995

Obituary

Fr Bill Lee (1915-1992)

7th Dec. 1915: Born, Waterford
Early education: Christian Bros. Schools, Waterford up to Matriculation
9th Oct. 1934: Entered the Society at Emo
1936 - 1939: Juniorate, Rathfarnham
1939 - 1942: Philosophy at Tullabeg
1942 - 1943: Teaching at Clongowes
1944 - 1948; Theology at Milltown Park
1947: Ordained
1948 - 1949: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1950 - 1957: Northern Rhodesia (Zambia). Having studied the language, he served in Kasia, Fumbo, Chikuni, etc.
1957 - 1987: Gonzaga, teaching Physics, etc. (In 1981 he took a sabbatical in the U.S.A.)
1987 - 1989: University Hall - adj. Prefect; also keeper of Records, Milltown Institute
1989 - 1991: 35 Lower Leeson Street, Minister in 1990. Assistant Registrar at Milltown Institute and teaching Latin
4th June 1992: Died at St. Vincent's Hospital, Dublin

William Lee, known to his family as Willie and to his Jesuit brethren as Bill, was bor in 1916 in Waterford where he spent most of his youth. He was one of ten children of whom Sheila, Teddy and Peggy survive and to them we offer our sincerest sympathy. They will miss him terribly. Our sympathy also to his nephews, nieces and other relatives amongst whom he was greatly beloved and in whom he took a keen and warm avuncular interest. Within the family he is remembered as being distinctive: he alone of the ten children greeted all orders with “Why?”, all information with “How do you know?” and enjoyed an argument as other children enjoyed a party. He endearingly retained these characteristics to the end. He was educated in Waterpark College by the Christian Brothers whom he held in the highest esteem and of whom he had the happiest memories. As a student, he was most capable, a voracious reader and utterly stubborn in refusing to leam or study any thing that did not capture his interest. Attempts to break this habit by carrot and stick proved fruitless.

He had little or no contact with Jesuits until a Fr. Mackey descended on Waterpark College to give the boys a retreat. It appears that this man was a famous recruiting sergeant for the Jesuits in the '20s and '30s and he added Bill to his list. Bill's parents received the news that he was to join the Jesuits as a sign of lamentable judgement. After all he had acquired a good position in the bank, and if he was thinking of the priesthood or religious life, did he not know the Franciscans, the diocesan priests and the Christian Brothers? So why join the Jesuits of whom he knew nothing? Characteristically, the more his parents opposed it, the more Bill warmed to the idea. He cut the argument short one day, by getting on his bike in Waterford ad cycling to Dublin. He arrived at Leeson Street to meet Fr. Mackey. Just as the good father was extolling the virtues of the religious life in general and those of the Jesuits in particular, Bill, tired out by his joumey, fell fast asleep. When the startled priest discovered the reason for this, he was suitably impressed and sent Bill to the Provincial with a strong recommendation. By the time Bill returned to Waterford, he had, more or less, signed on. The family's disappointment at his decision was mitigated by the conviction that he would soon be sent home from the Jesuit novitiate. They did not put a tooth in it: they told him that the Jesuits, of all people, would not put up with his incessantly asking, “Why?”, “Wherefore?” and “How do you know?”. However, Bill proved not to be one of nature's natural martyrs. He reserved his taste for robust debate for his fellow novices, one of whom reported that going out with Br. Lee for a discussion was like walking across a mine field. However, if Bill made his mark as a lover of debate and discussion, his kindness, good humour and generosity were no less noticed and appreciated.

After the novitiate, he began his studies that he greatly enjoyed, obtaining a good honours degree in Arts, and then in Philosophy in Tullabeg, and completed what was then known as the long or higher course in Theology. He was ordained in 1947, Between Philosophy and Theology he showed great promise as a teacher in Clongowes and The Crescent. His theological studies left him with an abiding interest in the subject. For him, theology was not merely an academic or intellectual interest. He read it seriously as a means of making sense of his beliefs and convictions. If in latter years his reading tended to concentrate on Schillebeeckx, Kung and the more unorthodox theologians, this reflected his moderate esteem for orthodoxy. He completed his formation with tertianship in Rathfarnham Castle. Plans were afoot to send some Irish Jesuits to what was then Northern Rhodesia. Bill conceived a keen desire NOT to go there, was greatly relieved not to be sent and in these circumstances found a posting in Limerick quite attractive. He was just settling down comfortably to life in the Crescent when he received a note from the Provincial's assistant telling him to get a medical check with a view to going to Northern Rhodesia.

He went in 1950. He was one of the pioneering group, and experienced all the difficulties of establishing the mission. He built a mission station physically with one or two others, taught, spent some time as secretary to the Bishop and picked up a touch of malaria.

He returned to Ireland in 1957 to teach in Gonzaga, which was founded as he was leaving for Africa. He joined a gifted staff that was conscious that the school was doing something new in Irish education. He appreciated the refreshing and innovative ethos of the place but was critical of the role of science in the curriculum. He rightly considered that it did not enjoy a sufficiently central place in the new school and that science should be at the heart of 20th century liberal education. He persuaded the authorities to permit him to go to the USA for six summers to obtain a degree in Physics. He set up the science department in Gonzaga, initially in a loft over converted stables, and introduced a demonstration course in science. This was hardly ideal but was all that resources allowed. Over the years he was joined by excellent teachers and science gradually assumed a central place in the curriculum but by the time the splendid new science wing was built he had retired. However, he was certainly the founding father of the now flourishing science department in Gonzaga.

He was a very good teacher, albeit with a short fuse at times and with less than an unerring way with experiments. He had a marvellous rapport with his students by whom he was much beloved. He was deeply interested in his subject, and had broad intellectual interests that enabled him not merely to teach but to educate.

Bill, however, was appreciated for what he was, rather than for what he did: humane, kindly, tolerant and unpretentious. There was about him something difficult to define but palpable to experience; one did not relate to him as a teacher or a cleric. He did not, as many clerics do, give the impression that he was fulfilling a role or assuming a function. He was very much the human face of the clerical and religious life. He was immensely popular in the staff room and was a colourful member of the community life. He was clubable, enjoying and contributing much to community life. He had his own style. He seemed to “sniff” the general drift of conversation and then assume a position against the commonly held view. The more vigorous the argument, the more pleased he seemed to be. While some found his style more attractive than others, it was salutary for those who took themselves too seriously.

He left Gonzaga in 1987 after 30 years and moved to University Hall and then to Leeson Street while working in The Milltown Institute as Bursar, Assistant Registrar and teacher of Latin, To his colleagues in Milltown he was a popular and lively companion. He was Minister for a year in Leeson Street in addition to his tasks in Milltown and was always ready and happy to supply in the Barrett Cheshire Home where he had the affection and respect of the residents.

In pastoral work he was most successful, if somewhat diffident. He was not one for passing on certainties. Indeed, he was suspicious of those who trafficked in certainties. Nor was he one for laying down an inflexible code of behaviour. He accepted people as he found them and in whatever circumstances they were. He was keen to help them to make sense of their lives in their own way and to give their own meaning to those lives. He never enter tained the idea that he could solve peoples' problems but he did try to help people to live more easily with those human and religious problems that we all have and that are beyond solution in this life. He related well to the dedicated and practising Christians in the Teams of Our Lady who so much appreciated him. The presence of the residents of the Barrett Cheshire Home, who went to so much trouble to be at his funeral, reflects their appreciation of a man who unostentatiously and uncondescendingly con veyed his understanding of those whom providence left gravely disadvantaged. He was especially good with those whose faith was fragile, whose link with the Church was tenuous or whose practice was spasmodic. He was helped in dealing with such people by his awareness that Faith and its consequences are a gift and so he tended to be more surprised by their presence than by their absence. He himself lived happily with questions unanswered and problems unsolved but with the absolute certainty that the day would come - and for him it has - when he would get his answers and solutions. However, should they turn out to be the orthodox ones, he will, I suspect, be bitterly disappointed.

About a year ago, the pulmonary fibrosis that was to prove fatal was diagnosed. This restricted his activity greatly, and consider able damaged his quality of life. The signs were there for all to see. The work in Milltown became a little too much for him. He frequently and uncharacteristically absented himself from community recreation. He went to his sisters on Fridays and Sundays armed with a video as the effort to keep up his usual rate of conversation waned. But he retained his spark and interest in life. He had acquired a second hand computer shortly before going into hospital and was happily working on it when he got his fatal attack. He had planned to visit Zambia this Autumn with his sister Peggy and generally was looking forward rather than looking back.

We will miss his colourful manner, kindly personality, and gen uine goodness but he has left us the happiest memories of a good life lived to the full.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1992

Obituary

William Lee SJ

I am very pleased to have been asked to write about Fr William Lee. But I shall refer to him simply as Bill, for that was his name among his religious colleagues. The boys, I know, used to call him Willie behind his back with a sense of daring: they may be slightly deflated to learn that this was the form of William by which he was known among his own family.
When I received the news of Bill's death, along with a great sadness came the relieving thought ‘Now, at last, he knows all the answers!'

Bill was always noted for his questioning spirit. His was always a curious mind, in the Latin sense of the word. Everything was of interest to him and he wanted to know everything about it. But then, Alistair Cooke says ‘Curiosity is free-wheeling intelligence', or, in the words of Samuel Johnson, 'It is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect!'
This, I think, was one of the qualities that made him an exceptional teacher, a stimulating companion and a great asset to community life.

He loved a good argument. I, a purveyor of the classics, could see in him a touch of Socrates who, with his famous maieutic method, could lead his adversary first into a confession of total ignorance and then be opened to the truth. Bill, of course, was always conscious of that salutary admonition of St Ignatius - that, when a Jesuit argues “it is not to get the upper hand, but that the truth may appear'. Or haven't you noticed it?

He and I always kept up a good-natured rivalry. It was science versus the classics. But, really, it was a rather uneven contest, for while I was almost completely ignorant of matters scientific and had little interest in them, Bill was no mean Latin scholar. He could quote his lines of Virgil and Horace with the best and, towards the end of his life, was actually teaching Latin for a time in the Milltown Institute.

There was a memorable summer (1974) when we went together on a trip to Greece. As we visited the great sites. - the Acropolis, Delphi, Mycenae, Epidaurus, Knossos — his thirst for answers was insatiable. I recall with some amusement how once, in Athens, he remarked on the crowds that gathered every evening in Omonia Square. There were large groups of men engaged in earnest and vociferous discussion. The natural conclusion (for him) was that they were talking politics - a scene that would have brought joy to the heart of old Socrates who encouraged people to dialogue on the real essentials of life and the eternal verities. Great, however, was his disillusionment when Bill discovered that they were merely arguing about the soccer results of the day.
Surprisingly enough, Bill's university degree was not in physics or any science subject, but in English and history. When he came to teach in Gonzaga in 1957, though already more than competent, he worked hard to prepare himself for the task of being the College's one and only science teacher for many years. Besides attending courses in Dublin and Cork he spent many of his early summers in the US plundering the brains and know-how of the Americans at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the Universities of Kentucky, Fordham, Notre Dame and Colombia. There he studied such diverse subjects as physics, chemistry, electronics and geology.

Thus he equipped himself superbly as a teacher who could introduce into Gonzaga a physics course that would be in line with modern developments and requirements. In 1962 he was President of the Irish Science Teachers' Association, Editor of their magazine in 1966 and Public Relations Officer in 1971.

Bill was Editor of the first three issues of The Gonzaga Record (1985-87). The first and second issues contain his succinct and invaluable 'History of Gonzaga College 1950-85'. In it was a section entitled “The Introduction of Science Teaching' wherein he gives the reasons why there was no place for science in the original curriculum and describes how the subject made a tentative beginning in 1959 as a sort of gentleman's demonstration course. He recounts how the facilities gradually improved - from the humble beginnings in the upper room in the lower yard (until recently the Music Room) to a pre-fab. structure that, erected in 1972, was eventually replaced, in 1983, by the present well-equipped specialist science block. Now that we have it,' he wrote in his editorial of 1987, ‘one wonders how we did without it.' One wonders even more how he did without it, for, alas! Bill himself never enjoyed the luxuries of this building. Having reached pensionable age in 1981 he withdrew from the classroom and never looked back.

However, in spite of the limitations of a mere demonstration course and the below-par facilities, many of his pupils did him great credit, not only in examinations but also at the annual Young Scientists' Exhibition. Notable among these were Lothar Enders, Leslie Daly, Peter Duggan and John David Biggs.

I could have adjudged Bill, even a priori, an excellent teacher. He had this earnest, patient way of explaining difficult things simply, lucidly, logically. What's more, he gave everyone he talked to his full attention, taking quite seriously even the most stupid question. Had I been, e'en briefly, a 'fly on the wall' in one of his classes, I could have observed what went on, but had to settle for a few words with some of his past pupils. Somehow I had expected to extract from them some special insider information - personal idiosyncrasies, funny incidents, the stuff of legend. I was, in a way, disappointed. They all - as past pupils will — suggested that they had been the bane of his life, but remembered him with deep affection and gratitude and no-one had an unkind word to say of him. There were memories of occasions when the experiments went a bit wrong, of the odd prank, but nothing of epic proportions. When I asked what special measures he took to maintain discipline, one answer was that his main weapon was a wide smile which could, in turn, register pity, reproval or encouragement.

Bill would be highly amused at any mention of his sporting proclivities or achievements. But I should like here to record that, on his arrival at Gonzaga, he humbly undertook the office of Gamesmaster for about three years. Reffing rugby, umpiring cricket and organising sports was really not his scene, but, as in everything else, he did a whole-hearted job. I remember, with a touch of awe, the first time he took part in the cricket match between staff and boys and revealed himself as a fast bowler of some merit, though with a strong tendency towards involuntary bodyline. He possessed, too, a meagre and poverty-stricken collection of golf clubs with which he once got his name on the Veterans' Trophy at the Annual Jesuit Golf Outing. The clubs, incidentally, were left-handed, and yet he was right-handed in most things else. This ambidexterity was, perhaps, a physical expression of his ability to argue from both sides of any question.
It is fitting that this account of Bill should confine itself mainly to his years as teacher in Gonzaga. Were I writing a wider appreciation I would have much to say about him as a spiritual man, a zealous religious and about his role as guide, counsellor and friend to so many people. Here, at least, I might recall that before his coming to Gonzaga in 1957 he had worked as a pioneering missionary in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia) for some seven years: among his souvenirs from this period was a touch of malaria. Along with his science he taught religion in the classroom and did his share of counselling. In holiday time, apart from his attendance at many courses, he was often engaged in pastoral work especially in the US and in England. In 1981 he made a tour of the Holy Land.

For many years there was a regular Sunday Mass in the college chapel. Bill's homilies, I know, were greatly savoured. He always had a fresh and original angle. A Gonzaga mother was talking to me about this recently and she recalled a little story he told about a boy who had some scruples about reading in bed because his parents had told him to put the light off as soon as he turned in. (Ah for the days when disobedience to parental instructions was regarded as at least an imperfection!) Anyway, this boy confided his unease to Bill. “What I do”, he said, “is to leave the bedroom door open and by a system of mirrors draw the light from the corridor onto the pages of my book”. Far from condemnation, Bill had nothing but commendation for such ingenuity and scientific know-how. I wonder was this homily on Luke 18, 8?

Bill left Gonzaga in the summer of 1987. His first appointment was to University Hall, Hatch St, where he acted as Assistant Prefect; at the same time he was Keeper of the Records in the Milltown Institute. Thence he moved, in 1989, to the Jesuit residence in Leeson St where for a time he was Minister while he still commuted daily to the Milltown Institute, now as Assistant Registrar. But soon his health began to deteriorate. He was hospitalised on 24 May, 1992, with pulmonary fibrosis, and died peacefully in the early hours of 4 June. He was 76.

Jesuits working in Dublin are usually buried from St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner St, but circumstances did not so allow. Gonzaga was the next obvious choice but its chapel had already been reserved for another ceremony. And so, his Requiem Mass was concelebrated in Milltown Park, and I can't help thinking that Bill must have felt a little heavenly glee in having his obsequies presided over by Father General himself and in upsetting the timetable drawn up for a Meeting of the whole Jesuit Province.

Our deepest sympathy to all his relatives and friends. We, his confrères, miss him sorely.

Edmund Keane SJ

Macken, John C, 1943-1996, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/531
  • Person
  • 22 December 1943-07 May 1996

Born: 22 December 1943, Ballinasloe, County Galway
Entered: 07 September 1962, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 21 June 1974, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows: 10 January 1986, John Sullivan House, Monkstown, County Dublin
Died: 07 May 1996, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Leinster Road, Rathmines, Dublin community at the time of death

by 1972 at Regis Toronto, Canada (CAN S) studying
by 1974 at St Ignatius Guelph ONT, Canada (CAN S) studying
by 1978 at Tübingen Germany (GER S) studying

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 86 : July 1996

Obituary

Fr John Macken (1943-1996)

22nd Dec, 1943: Born at Ballinasloe, Galway
Early education: Crescent College, Limerick and Gonzaga College
7th Sept. 1962: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1964: First Vows
1964 - 1967: Rathfarnham, Study of Eastern languages at UCD.
1967 - 1969: Milltown Park, study Philosophy/M.A Languages, UCD
1969 - 1971: Crescent College - teaching/H DipEd, UCC
1971 - 1973 Toronto, Regis College, Guelph, Master of Divinity
21st June 1974: Ordained priest, Milltown Park
1974 - 1977: Loyola House, Special Secretariat
1977 - 1984: Tubingen, Doctoral Studies, Theology Tullabeg,
1984 - 1985: Tertianship
1985 - 1992: Sullivan House, Lecturer in Theology, Milltown Institute
1992 - 1995: Dominic Collins House - Superior/ Milltown Institute
1995 - 1996: Residence, Leinster Road/ President and lecturer at Milltown Institute

John felt very tired at the Easter break and had some tests done which revealed cancer of the liver. Further tests showed this to be the secondaries. The doctors discussed the option of treatment with John, but in the light of the prognosis it was decided against. He died peacefully a month later on 7th May.

Sermon at the Funeral Mass of Fr. John Macken

When Sir Thomas More heard of the death by execution of one of the bishops who had refused to bow to Henry's bullying: he said, “Ah Fisher, a lovely man”. Perhaps that sums up what is to be said about John - a lovely man.

Everyone here has their own treasured memories of him - how can you sum up anyone's life on their funeral day - it's foolish to think you can - but perhaps we can get glimpses. Asking a fair number of people over the last few days - perhaps the most consistent word was “gentle”.

We are faced with a mystery, dismayed and bewildered by the abrupt summons and departure of John, and we mourn and grieve as tenderly as we awkwardly can with his mother Eleanor, his brothers James and Frank, and sisters, Marian, Eleanor, Sheila and Nuala; their spouses Maeve, Andrew, Paraic and Susan, their children and the Macken relatives - but also with his large Jesuit family, his many friends and colleagues from the Milltown Institute, whose president he briefly was, friends in Toronto and Tübingen - the list goes on of those his life has graced

But we try to face into this mystery in the light and hope of the Resurrection - as Fr. Laurence Murphy said last evening John staked his life on the Word of God, on Christ - and his faith quickened and sustained many others.

St. Paul reminds us that we are God's work of art - everyone of us is a word of God - John was a special word and work of God's art. Our grief and loss are tempered by gratitude for such a gentle, lovely, gifted, simple man.

He was not faultless (unlike yourself and myself) - he could be heavy or morose or irritable. But these limitations were vastly outweighed by his gifts (as indeed they are in all of us if only we could see with God's eyes.)

He was a man of learning - but learning worn so lightly and unselfconsciously. He sort of belied the Gospel today, (Matt.11, 25 30) being the exception to whom the things of God are revealed. He was a scholar, a theologian, ecumenist, yet combining great intellectual integrity with a corresponding intellectual humility. He never patronised you or put you down. He could correct you, and very directly, but somehow graciously, painlessly. After five weeks in Tübingen he knew more about theology than others who had spent 20 years. When he left Crescent 100 years ago to move to Gonzaga, we all breathed a sigh of relief because we all moved up a place in class. “If he wasn't so nice and good”, a relative was saying yesterday, “he would have been intolerable, he knew so much”.

But he was also a very human and simple man: a great companion and dear friend - so easy to be with (most of the time anyway), so non threatening or judgmental. Interested in you and understanding - gently compassionate - courteous - in a delightful simple sense of humorous enjoyment. “Don was always a peacemaker”, his mother used to say of him - he spent many happy hours with his friends the MacNamara's in Waterford and Kilkee and his visits were much looked forward to by many. Sr. Marie in Maryfield - in visiting his mother used to say of him: “He left a kind of peace”. A colleague on a commission - he didn't say very much, but you were always aware of his supportive presence. He was a man of faith - his family was very important to him and he to them - he was so faithful to his mother and to Eleanor his sister, ill for many years, faithful to his calling as a Jesuit priest, a son of Ignatius - a faithfulness that was profoundly focused and simplified in his last weeks. The way he handled his illness was astonishing, to me certainly, but consistent with his life up to that point. He remained attentive to others and concerned about them to the end, and so appreciative of anything done for him. Mary, a nurse in Cherryfield said it was “a privilege to look after that man”.

God certainly put him to the test and found him worthy of him, as the reading from Wisdom said. He had said 'yes' to his life and he said yes to his death, with a courage ad objectivity that neither exaggerated or minimised the reality he was undergoing - yet without any posturing or bitterness that I could see - on the contrary his tranquillity made it all easier and bearable for his family and the rest of us.

If John of the Cross is right when he said “in the evening of our lives we will be judged on love” John will do very well in this only ultimately important exam. So while we do mourn most painfully even more do we celebrate and give thanks for such a rich and fruitful life, which has graced us all in different ways, evoking in everyone so many good feelings. He did incarnate Newman's prayer “Help me to spread your fragrance everywhere I go”.

So perhaps mysteriously, providentially Don's work is done: and ours now to follow with appreciative hearts this gracious, gentle friend of Christ, privileged to have walked some of the way with him. Maybe Bernanos was right in saying that the only sadness is not to be a saint. A lovely man, increasingly like his Lord who said “Come to me all you who labour.....”

It seems appropriate to end with a prayer written by Karl Barth, perhaps the most influential Protestant theologian of this century, and John's special study:

At the Start of Worship
O Lord our God! You know who we are, men
with good
consciences and with bad, persons who are
content and
those who are discontent, the certain and the
uncertain,
Christians by conviction and Christians by convention,
those who believe, those who half-believe,
those who
disbelieve.
And you know where we have come from:
from the
circle of relatives, acquaintances and friends or
from the
greatest loneliness, from a life of quiet
prosperity or from
manifold confusion and distress, from family
relationships
that are well ordered or from those disordered
or under
stress, from the inner circle of the Christian
community or
from its outer edge.

But now we all stand before you, in all our
differences, yet alike in that we are all in the
wrong with
you and with one another, that we must all one
day die,
that we would all be lost without your grace,
but also in
that your grace is promised and made available
to us all in
your dear Son Jesus Christ. We are here
together in order
to praise you through letting you speak to us.
We beseech
you to grant that this may take place in this
hour, in the
name of your Son our Lord.

Peter Sexton SJ

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1986

John Macken SJ

I came late to Gonzaga, joining Fourth year in 1962. I had already been in a Jesuit school, in Crescent College in Limerick, where I grew up, though I was born in Ballinasloe, Co. Galway. Going to Gonzaga appealed to me. I wanted a Jesuit school and had at the back of mind the idea that I might join the Jesuits. Gonzaga did little to hin der and much to reinforce the idea. The atmosphere, like the grounds, was open, positive and encouraging, in fact one might say sunny. The approach to education was a broad one and most of us enjoyed it thoroughly. What added an extra spice to our year was that we had in Paul Durcan a genuine poet who kept us entertained with his juvenilia.

My religious inclination was catered for by Mass-serving (we cycled in early to school and home again for break fast) and Fr Sean Hutchinson's sod ality as well as the excellent R.E. programme. (I still preserve some note books from fourth year as well as notes from a retreat in Rathfarnham Castle which now have first-class his torical value!) I did in fact join the Jesuits in 1962 and to my surprise I had two companions: David Murphy and Frank Roden. It was a surprise because each of us had kept the decision very private. I'm sure we weren't the only ones to whom the idea occurred, but it wasn't something to be discussed.

The two years noviceship in Emo Park were much as they had been described in Ben Kiely's There was an ancient House twenty-five years before, monastic and quiet - too quiet some of the time! In UCD I was asked by Fr Charles O'Conor to study subjects that would prepare me for theology later on, so I took Hebrew with Prof Dermot Ryan (later Arch bishop) and Greek with Prof. Michael Tierney jun. We took as much part in College life as we were allowed -- joining College societies was permitted except for L & H and Dramsoc. I enjoyed UCD and continued with it for two more years, doing an MA simultaneously with philosophical studies in Milltown Park. But Mill town was the more exciting place to be then, studying with Philip McShane, an uncritical enthusiast for the transcendental Thomism of Bernard Lonergan. A welcome interruption to studies was the two years I spent teaching in my old school, Crescent College in Limerick, which was then beginning to go comprehensive. There I also did a HDip in UCC under the direction of Fr James Good.

In 1971 I was permitted to go to Toronto, Canada for theological studies. This was a great experience as the Canadians were at the time far more advanced than we in the study and practice of Jesuit spirituality and the Spiritual Exercises, in pastoral training (it was the age of the encoun ter group and of Rogerian counselling) and in ecumenism. The college was joined in a consortium of seminaries that included Anglicans (High and Low), United Church and Presbyterian as well as three Roman Catholic Institutions. Students were encouraged to take lectures in Colleges of the other denominations, although the main ex aminations and the syllabus remained that of one's own college. I was especially grateful to a Scotsman, Dr David Hay, for a lively introduction to Presbyterian theology. My ordination in Gonzaga Chapel in 1974 alongside David Murphy was a memorable ex perience. But it was followed, not by pastoral activities, but by three years of administrative work with the Jesuit Provincial. I was leader of a team of management consultants for the Irish Jesuits. (The experiment has since been dropped!) Thereafter I was still wondering what I would do when I grew up! In fact, I returned to Fr. O'Conor's vision of me and went to Germany for seven years, studying philosophy and theology in Tübingen and Munich under Prof. Walter Kasper. My Presbyterian training stood me in good stead and I returned with a thesis on the famous Swiss theologian Karl Barth, whose centenary occurs this May. I began teaching theology this year (1985-86) in Milltown Park (now a consortium of eleven religious orders) and am enjoying it thoroughly.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1996

Obituary

John Macken SJ

by Peter Sexton SJ

John Macken SJ, president of the Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy in Dublin, died at the age of 53 on May 7th. The death of such a gifted man, apparently in the summer of his career, has left his many col leagues, students and friends deeply saddened. And yet, as Bernanos says, perhaps the only sadness is not to be a saint.

John (Don to his family) was the son of Eleanor and the late Matthew Macken, former Dublin city and county manager. He was born in Ballinasloe and educated first in Crescent College, Limerick, where his father was city man ager at the time, and later in Gonzaga College, Dublin.

He joined the Jesuits in 1962 and stud ied Eastern languages at UCD under Professor (later Archbishop) Dermot Ryan. He combined an MA at UCD with philosophical studies at Milltown. After two years on the staff of Cres cent College, he went to Regis College, Toronto for theology.

After ordination in 1974, John worked for a number of years on the Provincial's ad ministrative team, before taking up post-gradu ate studies in Tubingen under Walter Kaspar. His doctorate, for a dissertation on the concept of autonomy in Karl Barth's theology, was awarded in 1984. Soon afterwards, he began teaching at the Milltown Institute.

Throughout his life, he was a commit ted ecumenist and in those years he also taught in the Irish School of Ecumenics and the Church of Ireland theological College. In August 1995 he became president of the institute, but his term in office was cut tragically short by his premature death.

John Macken was a brilliant and cultured man, who excelled at every stage of his studies. He had remarkable powers of concentration, that capacity for "attention” which Simone Weil considers to be the heart of study. He was an ideal companion when travelling - anywhere in Ireland, in Paris, Tubingen, Rome – because of his easy, profound grasp of history. But he wore his broad learning lightly and unselfconsciously. "If he wasn't so nice and good", one of his rela tives remarked, “he would have been intoler able - he knew so much!”

He was a great friend to so many people, human, simple, gentle, non-judgemental, quali ties which made a deep impression on those he met. He had an unusual ability to be on equal terms with all sorts of people, including children.

News of his cancer came as a great shock to those who loved and admired him. But the dignity and unfussy realism with which he faced his illness gave courage and a certain peace to his family and friends, during the short weeks which remained to him in the gentle, compe tent care of St. Vincent's Private Hospital and Cherryfield Lodge.

Our deepest sympathy goes to his wonderful mother and family. A friend, speaking for all of us, wrote on hearing of his death:

Farewell, noble friend. God knew you under the fig tree,
God knows You now, gentle one The cup drained, pain spent, the
burden shouldered, No projects unfinished,
Consummatum.

McCarthy, Thomas G, 1915-2008, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/786
  • Person
  • 03 October 1915-18 June 2008

Born: 03 October 1915, Sherkin Island, County Cork
Entered: 04 October 1935, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1952, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died 18 June 2008, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Della Strada, Crescent College Comprehensive, Dooradoyle, Limerick community at the time of death.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/remembering-tom-mccarthy-sj/

Remembering Tom McCarthy SJ
Fr. Tom McCathy SJ was born in Co. Cork in 1915 and he entered the Society at Emo in 1937. He studied Arts at UCD before his philosophy and theology, and was ordained in Milltown Park in 1949. He taught in Clongowes Wood College for 8 years before going to St. Ignatius, Galway as Minister. Over the years, he also taught in the Crescent College and Gonzaga College, gave the Spiritual Exercises, and worked with the St. Vincent de Paul Society in Limerick. He went to Cherryfield Lodge in 2004 and despite deteriorating health, he enjoyed being out in the garden. He died peacefully on Wednesday, 18 June 2008, aged 92 years.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 137 : Autumn 2008

Obituary

Fr Thomas (Tom) McCarthy (1915-2008)

3rd October 1915: Born in Sherkin, Co. Cork
Early education at Sacred Heart College, Cork
4th October 1935: Entered the Society at Emo
5th October 1937: First Vows at Emo
1937 - 1940: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1940 - 1944: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1944 - 1946: Clongowes Wood College - Regency
1946 - 1950: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1949: Ordained at Milltown Park
1950 - 1951: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1951 - 1959: Clongowes Wood College - Teacher
2nd February 1952: Final Vows at Clongowes Wood College
1959 - 1961: St. Ignatius, Galway - Minister
1961 - 1963: Crescent, Limerick - Teacher, Games Manager
1963 - 1965: Gonzaga College - Teacher
1965 - 2004: Limerick -
1965 - 1977: Crescent College
1977 - 1978: Dooradoyle - Vice-Superior; Teacher
1978 - 1982: Superior
1982 - 1983: Sabbatical
1983 - 1997: Dooradoyle - Directed Spiritual Exercises
1997 - 1999: Parish Visitation
1999 - 2004: Parish Visitation; St. Vincent de Paul Society
2004 - 2008: Cherryfield Lodge - Praying for Church and Society
18th June 2008: Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Liam O'Connell writes:
Sherkin Island:
Tom McCarthy was bom on the 3rd October 1915, on Sherkin Island, off the coast of Cork, and he had a strong love of his family and his native place all his life. His parents had seven children, Patrick, James, John, Simon, William, Mary and then the youngest, Tom. One day when Tom was 9 years old, his father went away for the day. Tom took this chance to take out his father's boat, hoisted the sail and manoeuvred his way over and back around an inland lake, and he handled the boat very well. What he did not know until much later was that his father had returned early from his business, and from a distance he saw Tom sailing the boat. His father was very impressed by Tom's skill and was proud of him.

On May 21st, 1927 when 11-year-old Tom and his father were out fishing from a boat when Charles Lindberg passed overhead while flying from the USA to Paris, on one of the early translantic flights. Tom explained that at first they thought they heard a ship's engine, and then they thought they saw a large bird flying towards them, before then they realised that it was an aeroplane. Lindberg afterwards wrote about this: "The first indication of my approach to the European Coast was a small fishing boat which I first noticed a few miles ahead and slightly to the south of my course. There were several of these fishing boats grouped within a few miles of each other.

There is another story from Tom's childhood, which gives a hint of what is everlasting. One Christmas Eve, Tom and his mother had gone shopping to the mainland, to the town of Baltimore. During the day a storm blew up, and they were marooned in Baltimore, and feared that they would miss Christmas back in Sherkin with their family, because the seas were too dangerous. Late in the evening the captain of the ferry decided to set sail, and they all arrive home safely. 80 years later Tom still recalled the delight of going home with his mother and being reunited with his family.

The sea was one of Tom's great loves. Another was a life long love affair with language. He loved to find the right word for a situation. He delighted in words like 'insouciance' or
apposite' or 'flout - used correctly of course. This craft with words went back a long way. One day a schools inspector at his national school asked the students to spell three words: Furze, Yacht and Arctic. Tom got the prize for being the only person to get all three spellings correct. All his life until fairly recently he was a great reader, especially of biography and history, and books about sailing, and he loved good writing.

In 1978 when Tom retired from teaching, I suspect that it was not because he lacked energy, but, perhaps, because of the terrible things his young scholars did to language, and that this began to wear him down.

Jesuits
As a boy Tom moved from Sherkin Island to the mainland to stay with an uncle and aunt, to attend school in Baltimore, and then he moved on to the Sacred Heart Secondary School in Cork city as a boarder. After school he joined the Jesuits in October 1935. He formed great friendships with his contemporaries, especially with Michael Reidy and Eddie Diffley. In later years in community Tom was a most kind and encouraging presence, with a great sense of humour, and a lovely ability to laugh at himself. Sometimes his encouragement took the form of long homilies that kept us late for dinner on cold winter days. But no one could deny that these came from a kind spirit and a sincere zeal for the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Tom's work as a Jesuit brought him as Minister to Galway, and he taught Irish in Gonzaga College, and Latin and Irish in Clongowes. When he came to Limerick in the 1961 Tom taught these subjects again, and he also took on the job of Games Master. During the holidays he gave retreats, and he did Summer supply in a parish in New York. This also helped him to keep in touch with his brothers and sisters over there, and their families.

Old Crescent, Vincent de Paul
He was a Munster Schools Rugby Selector, and a Patron of Old Crescent Rugby Club. Devotion to Old Crescent was a big part of his life. It went very deep and in pride of place in his room was a picture of him blessing the new pavilion at Rosbrien. He enjoyed his visits to the clubhouse, where he was made feel so welcome, and where his pipe smoking was graciously tolerated.

Tom's other great interest was the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul, and the Conference of past students of Crescent, that works in St. Joseph's hospital. On Tuesdays after dinner, Tom first enjoyed a good smoke of his pipe, a mixture of Balkan Sobrany and Maltan tobacco, and then he was collected by some kind Brother, to go to St. Joseph's hospital, where they organise entertainment during the winter months. During the summer months they held outings to scenic locations around Limerick. The Brothers of this Conference of St. Vincent de Paul, and the patients of St. Joseph's were strong and constant friends to Tom. In recent years Tom said Mass at the Oratory at the Crescent Shopping Centre, and again made very good friends here. Retirement

After teaching, Tom worked with the parish priests in Southill on Parish visitation, and he travelled there on his Honda 50. He enjoyed this contact and admired the good people of Holy Family Parish. In later years, and in another part of the city, much closer to the city centre, Tom was driving by one day, when he came upon an altercation. He stopped the car and walked into the middle of the furore, and said something like “Desist from this inappropriate and unseemly behaviour”. The assailants could not believe what they were seeing and hearing; they scattered before this vision of a frail but valiant 82 year old.

Golf
Tom was a beautiful golfer with a neat and tidy swing, and he loved the cut and thrust of competition. Just before ordination in July 1949, he had a golf lesson from Christy Greene in Milltown, and discovered the secret of golf. By the end of the lesson every shot was perfect, and he could not wait to try out his new swing in a full round. However he had wait, first because of a Retreat and then Ordination and First Mass and then Mass in Sherkin Island. Eventually, two weeks later he got back to a golf course, in Killarney with his brothers. But alas! He used to chuckle as he explained that the secret of golf had escaped again. Tom had the distinction in Limerick Golf Club of winning a stroke competition, the Mungret Cup, despite taking 10 shots at one hole. Later he won the Holmes Cup with a partner, but Tom would never allow his partner, to say that 'we? won the cup, as Tom disparagingly refused to acknowledge the other's contribution.

Cherryfield
In recent years Tom's independent Island Man spirit meant that he did not want to accept help in coping with old age. However that most persistent of women, the Jesuit Health Officer, Mary Rickard, cajoled Tom to stay at the Jesuit Nursing Home in Cherryfield from time to time on short visits. At first he went reluctantly. Tom even went missing during some of Mary's visits to Limerick, but then as he grew weaker, he enjoyed the extraordinary care and goodness of the staff there, and he came to love Cherryfield, and in turn was loved and cherished by the Cherryfield Staff.

When Tom was Superior of the Jesuit Community at Dooradoyle, there was a frugality about the living conditions at Della Strada. However this was frugality with a purpose, as the community made a large contribution towards the cost of a new Jesuit community house in Kitwe in Zambia. Today this house serves as a home for Jesuits working in the University and in a Spirituality Centre. Nowadays. We use the phrase "Live simply so that others may simply live, but Tom anticipated this worldview of sharing. It came from a spirituality of the Body of Christ, which values solidarity and communion between people, and where we are all our brothers and sisters keepers.

When he was well into his 60's Tom was sent on a sabbatical year to train as a Spiritual Director and Retreat Giver. His letters from the training course to his community in Dooradoyle were masterpieces, as Tom poked fun at himself and his mistakes. But these letters were also profound, and gave an insight into Tom's willingness to unlearn old ways and to learn new skills, and to retain what was central to the message of Jesus Christ, and the Jesuit way of life. These letters showed that Tom was both daring and humble in the face of change. We had a sense that he walked with his God at his side, and in the middle of every difficulty God was his shield and his staff.

We pray that the love he learned from his father and mother, this love story with God which began at Tom's baptism, this love he kept alive all his live, will be enjoyed by Tom forever. Go dté tú slán ar shlí na firinne. Mile buíochas duit. Go dtreorai na haingil isteach sna flaithis thú.

McDonagh, Peadar, 1922-1973, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/803
  • Person
  • 11 November 1922-26 April 1973

Born: 11 November 1922, Galway City
Entered: 06 September 1941, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 29 July 1954, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 15 August 1961, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 26 April 1973, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 48th Year No 2 1973

Belvedere
We have still another sudden death to record, that of Fr Peter MacDonagh. He was attending the Province Meeting at Rathfarnham on Thursday April 26th, but feeling indisposed he returned home shortly after lunch; he had difficulty ultimately in reaching his room and died about 4 o'clock. It was most unexpected.

Obituary :

Fr Peter McDonagh (1922-1973)

Fr Peter McDonagh came to the noviceship at Emo Park a day too soon!, but then all 14 companions did likewise because Sept. 7th, the official day of entrance, was a Sunday and train Services were restricted in the emergency conditions of the war. Thus Saturday, Sept. 6th was an uncounted day of initiation - presumably not much adverted to since the ensuing years were already accepted as a long haul. He was one of several representatives of Coláiste Iognáid, hailing from across the street and acquainted with church and school from childhood.
He was born Nov. 22nd, 1922 and was consequently 19 when he entered, having completed a year at University College, Galway immediately after leaving school. He settled down equably at Emo, earnest and conscientious, regular and companionable, a ready sense of humour and a gay laugh audible possibly on occasion after the challenger had sounded. He had an interest in nature study, trees and plants and birds - an advantage in the Emo environment. He was an adept with a cross-cut and enjoyed pike fishing on the lake when opportunity occurred during the Major Villa. It could be said of him then and later that his relaxations were in a demure unelaborate kind.
He pronounced his vows Sept. 9th 1943 and proceeded to Rathfarnham, resuming the Arts course he had interrupted at University College, Galway. 1945 Degree and Tullabeg for Philosophy; 1948, two years at the Crescent and a final year at Coláiste lognáid; he was an energetic industrious teacher inspiring interest in his subjects, organising and engaging in debates and other extra curricular activities which brought him into closer contact with the boys among whom he had a way.
1951 found him at Milltown Park amid the lean years of Genicot and Dogma (at which he acquitted himself cum laude). He took his part in Holy Week Ceremonies and the Christmas plays, presenting himself in anything but the role of “odd man out”.
1954 ordination; 1955 Tertianship at Rathfarnham. His life as a priest differed little, apart from his priestly duties, from what had been the tenor of his life previously. In 1956 he returned to the school-room - a year a Gonzaga and the succeeding years to Belvedere where he remained until his untimely death.
In his latter years at Belvedere he suffered increasingly from a form of asthma which necessitated his being provided habitually with an “inhaler”. He appears on occasion to have been heedless in applying this remedy and possibly as a result he was afflicted with a kind of nervous tension which compelled him to seek hospital treatment on occasion to obviate the distress. A certain
reticence and reserve grew upon him and his energies were not sufficiently resilient to cope with the exuberance of the class room. A change of occupation was advisable and in 1971 while remaining domiciled at Belvedere he was transferred to the Social Service Centre at Gardiner St, where to all evidence he gained a new lease of life. He was devoted to the work which fortunately provided him with a wide variety of interests in assisting and relieving the poor. Meals on wheels, flat hunting, landlords to be bearded, Senior Citizens to be catered for and entertained, all was grist. His depression lifted, the buoyancy returned. He attended the Province Meeting at Rathfarnham, April 26th. The present writer sat opposite him at dinner and we laughed and joked. He was in the best of form. Then it was “Grace” and I helped him as he gave a hand at drying. It was like Emo again, a day too soon ... and now in a sense history was to repeat itself for the Lord was good to call him to Himself - at 50 and with so much to do a day too soon.
His death which occurred as he betook himself to his room in Belvedere that same afternoon was tragically sudden. A post mortem assigned its cause to a cardiac attack during an asmathic spasm. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1973

Obituary

Father Peadar McDonagh SJ

The death of Fr. Peadar McDonagh occurred with tragic suddenness on the afternoon of April 26th this year. He had attended a large meeting of the Jesuit Province in Rathfarnham Castle that very morning and the previous day, during which he had been in more than usually good form. Apparently not feeling well, he had slipped away from the meeting without fuss and died just outside his room in Belvedere on his return.

It was typical of Fr Peadar that he died, causing, a minimum of trouble and disturbance to others. Of a gentle and pleasant disposition, he had carried on his work during his life quietly and unobtrusively. He came to Belvedere in 1957, three years after his ordination, and taught here for fourteen years. He was a painstaking and conscientious teacher and his classes fully appreciated the solid preparation that went into his teaching and his orderly presentation. He had a pleasant relationship with the boys and numbered some of the lay masters among his closest friends.

During the latter years of his teaching, increasingly bad health made his daily programme a heavy burden indeed, which he bore with great patience until forced to give up in 1971. A change of occupation then became advisable and while continuing to live in Belvedere, he was transferred to the Social Centre in Gardiner St. The new interests awakened there gave him fresh impetus and he became very devoted to the work and keenly interested in the plight of the old people and of the poor. It revealed him more than ever as a man of great sensitivity with a sympathetic interest in others.

To Father Peadar's family and close relatives we in Belvedere offer our deepest sympathy. They are a family who have always been closely associated with the Jesuits since the time they became practically our next-door neighbours in Galway. In particular, to his mother, his sister, Joan, Mrs McKiernan, and brother-in-law, Mr Patrick McKiernan, who have three sons in Belvedere, and to his brother, Padraic, we extend our sympathy.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

R McG

Meagher, Patrick, 1917-2005, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/636
  • Person
  • 11 April 1917-07 February 2005

Born: 11 April 1917, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1935, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1948, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1981, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Died: 07 February 2005, Cherryfield Lodge Dublin

Part of the Manresa House, Dublin community at the time of death.

Younger brother of D Louis Meagher - RIP 1980
Cousin of John P Leonard - RIP 2006

◆ Fr Francis Finegan SJ : Admissions 1859-1948 - Born Ratoath, County Meath; St Finian’s Mullingar student

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 128 : Special Issue June 2006

Obituary

Patrick (Paddy) Meagher (1917-2005)

11th April 1917: Born in Dublin
Early education at the National School in Ratoath, Co. Meath and St. Finian's, Mullingar
7th September 1935: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1937: First Vows at Emo
1937 - 1940: Rathfarnham - Studied Classics at UCD
1940 - 1943: Tullabeg -Studied Philosophy
1943 - 1945: Mungret College, Limerick - Teacher (Regency)
1945 - 1949: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
28th July 1948: Ordained at Milltown Park
1949 - 1950: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1950 - 1953: Clongowes - Teacher
1953 - 1956: Mungret College - Teacher
1956 - 1960: Gonzaga College - Teacher; Minister, Assistant Prefect of Studies
1960 - 1968: Mungret College - Teacher, Sub-Minister
1968 - 1972: Loyola - Socius to Provincial
1972 - 1973: Rathfarnham -Studied catechetics at Mt. Oliver, Dundalk
1973 - 1974: Manresa House -Assistant Director; Directed Spiritual Exercises
1974 - 1975: Belvedere College - Teacher
1975 - 2005: Manresa House -
1975 - 1985: Assistant Director, Directed Spiritual Exercises
2nd February 1981: Final Vows at Manresa
1985 - 1992: Socius to Director of Novices
1992 - 1996: Directed Spiritual Exercises
1996 - 2001: Rector's Admonitor, Spiritual Director
2001 - 2004: Spiritual Director (SJ)
2004 - 2005: Assisted in the community
7th February 2005 Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Fr Meagher visited Cherryfield Lodge many times over the years for respite care. He was admitted in May 2004. He had become weak with chronic chest and circulatory problems. He was treated with antibiotic therapy and pain relief. In the last two weeks his condition weakened further and he died peacefully but unexpectedly in Cherryfield Lodge.

Paul Andrews writes:
Paddy was born in Ratoath, Co. Meath, the fourth child and second boy in a family of six. Three of the four boys became priests, and one of the girls a nun. They were blow-ins, not native to Meath. Paddy's father was from Templemore, his mother the child of a Co. Offaly farmer who had given up farming and moved to near Mulhuddert when the absentee landlord put up the rent. So strong was the anti-landlord feeling that when the family moved away from Offaly, the neighbours came in and knocked down all the buildings, Perhaps it was from this maternal grandfather that Paddy inherited the core of steel that could surprise strangers to this mild little man.

He was closer to his father, admired by neighbours and family as a gentleman of gentlemen, of small stature (all the children inherited this) and incapable of saying a rough word. Mother had the better business head, and thought her husband unsuited to the job of a Ratoath merchant, running a general store and pub. Too little interest in money, she said. He'd have been better in the bank.

Paddy was delicate as a young boy. After National School le went as a boarder to St Finian's in Mullingar. He was small like his father, and never shone at games, though he played Gaelic and carried the mark of a stray hurley in a scar under his eye. He was a bright student, and St Finian's gave him a good foundation in Greek and Latin.

His brother Louis had gone to Belvedere while lodging in Huntstown with his grandmother. There he had come under the influence of Fr Ernest Mackey, the assertive promoter of vocations (perhaps one reason why older Irish Jesuits shudder when Fr General urges us to be aggressive in our search for vocations). Ernest would dine with the Meaghers every Christmas, and exerted such an influence, first on Louis, then on Paddy, that when Tom, two years younger and less academic than Paddy, went to the Holy Ghosts, the local lads used ask him, Would the Js not take you?

Paddy followed Louis's footsteps to Emo. The parents were supportive of their multiple vocations (Maureen had become a Loreto sister). They visited Emo, and when Paddy walked tlırough the parlour door in his Jesuit gown, his mother cried, Oh, a saint! as she rushed to embrace him. That would not have been Paddy's style. He was uneasy with sensible devotion, cool-headed yet with a personal warmth that drew people to him; but the opposite of charismatic.

He eschewed scenes of high emotion. In the tempestuous seventies, the Grubb Institute led a group session for several days in Tullabeg, and explored the emotional sensitivities of the sometimes unwilling participants. Towards the end Paddy exploded: For the first time in 25 years you have made me lose my temper. No, said the Australian leader, For the first time in 25 years we have given you permission to lose your temper. Paddy did not like it.

When we were looking for a photo of Paddy for his memorial card, we wondered: What age are we in heaven – with what sort of a face? God gives you your eyes but you gradually make your own mouth. Earlier photos show Paddy's lips as judicial and stern. As a teacher he had to compensate in gravity of personality for a slight physical presence; and compensate he did. He was respected and liked, a most effective teacher in Mungret, Clongowes and (as one of the earliest staff) Gonzaga. In the councils of staff and community his voice was calm and reasonable. When Cecil McGarry became Provincial, he looked for Paddy as his Socius because he was wise and respected, easy to get on with and of good judgment.

So he was at the Provincial's side through those tumultuous years. The job suited him in many ways. He was an easy companion and could exercise independent discretion when needs be. When a rather forward Jesuit rang Loyola looking for an appointment with the Provincial, Paddy gave him a time in late morning. The visitor asked: Does that include an invitation to lunch? No, said Paddy quietly.

It was heart trouble that forced him to give up the job of Socius with its daily quota of serious business. Physically he may not have been able for high stress. When John Guiney brought him from Loyola to St Vincent's A and B with angina, they put him to bed quickly. A priest appeared and then two doctors. Paddy promptly responded by getting a heart attack. Over the years he became a model of how to live with a wacky heart. In early 2003 we worried about his stomach aneurysm which could not be mended because the operation might kill him. On the last day of 2003 he was anointed. Three days later Mary Rickard said he was sinking. Seven days later he asked about prayers for the dying. But he bounced back.

Coming from Loyola to Manresa did not mean an abdication of intelligence. Both within the community and with the many people he helped here, you could trust him to use his head, always sage, humane, insightful. The sisters seeking the Lord in Manresa liked him because he reflected assurance, a known way of proceeding, and a calm judgment. Many still remember his pithy, succinct homilies.

He did not sit lightly to the sillier aspects of media culture, such as pop music, designer stubble, or phrases like: Go with the feeling. His sense of irony carried him through such inanities – and through the bandying of religious jargon - without becoming grumpy; he could be teased about them. There were other changes which he accepted but suffered, such as the reshaping of the Manresa community chapel: he would have liked fewer windows, more pictures, a crucifix and sanctuary lamp. He did not relish the sharing of reflections and experiences at concelebrated Mass. But he was there every day.

In Cherryfield people remarked on Paddy's clarity of mind and the tenacity with which he held on to life. When one of the brethren brought over blue and orange shirts from his room, Paddy thanked him for the blue but queried the orange: I thought I mentioned a beige shirt. Up to the day of his death he was bubbling with enquiries about the Province and life outside.

In 2004 he left this note to his Rector, to be opened when I die:

Paul, I would wish that the homily at my funeral Mass be short, i.e. three and a half to four minutes - no more. I was a small man, so there is no need to make me seem bigger than I am (was). Just ask the SJs and people to thank God for whatever good I may have done, and ask his pardon for all my shortcomings.
And end with Cardinal Newman's prayer: May he support us all the day long...
Thanking you for all your caring for me in my last years. Paddy.

Alas, some of these wishes were not met, because the Rector was away when Paddy died, and the touching letter lay hidden in his safe. But Dermot Mansfield's homily at the funeral did justice to Paddy in Dermot's own way, and the back of his mortuary card carries the Cardinal's prayer.

What we miss is the smiling or laughing Paddy. It is no accident that in his reading he reverted to PGWodehouse and a light-hearted view of life. He showed how to shuffle off responsibilities in this passing life, and face the beatific vision with a contented and hopeful heart.

◆ The Clongownian, 2006

Obituary

Father Patrick Meagher SJ

Fr Patrick Meagher SJ who died at Cherryfield Lodge on 7th February 2005 at the age of 87, spent three years teaching in Clongowes from 1950-1953. Born in Dublin in 1917 he entered the Society at Emo where he took his first yows in 1935. He studied in Rathfarnham, Tullabeg and Milltown Park where he was ordained in 1948. As well as Clongowes, Fr Meagher taught in Mungret, Gonzaga and Belvedere College. He also served in Manresa House where he directed Spiricual Exercises and took his final vows in 1981. May he rest in peace.

Monaghan, Hubert M, 1938-2000, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/637
  • Person
  • 26 November 1938-29 May 2000

Born: 26 November 1938, Hardwicke Street, Dublin
Entered: 06 April 1958, St Mary's , Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1971, Clongowes Wood College
Died: 29 May 2000, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin

by 1991 at Toronto Canada (CAN S) Sabbatical

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 105 : Special Edition 2000

Obituary

Br Hubert (Hughie) Monaghan (1919-2000)

1938 Nov 26th: Born in Hardwicke Street, Dublin
Hubert was educated by the Christian Brothers at CBS Richmond Street, Dublin.
He went to Sandymount High School and was an apprentice Radio Serviceman before he entered.
6th April 1958: Entered the Society at Emo
7th April 1960: First vows at Emo
1960 - 1962: Tullabeg - Refectorian ; Infirmarian
1962 - 1969: Milltown Park - in charge of staff
1969 - 1970: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1970 - 1975: Galway - Supervisor of staff, Assistant Director “Boys' Club”
1975 - 1981: CIR - Subminister, College Tutor; Supervisor of staff
1981 - 1983: CIR - Minister; Supervisor of College
1983 - 1990: CIR - Subminister; Supervisor of College
1990 - 1991: Toronto - Sabbatical year
1991 - 1997: Gonzaga - Assistant Co-ordinator of Pastoral Care; Ass, Administrator.
1997 - 2000: Gonzaga - Minister; College Administrator, House Consultor

Hubert was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on 11th May 2000 following major surgery at St. Vincent's Hospital. After an initial steady recovery from his operation he passed away suddenly but peacefully on Monday 29th May at 3.30 p.m

Mícheál Mac Gréil preached at Hubert's funeral mass in Gonzaga

It is but right and proper that I should begin this sermon on the untimely death of a very dear friend, Hughie Monaghan, RIP, by expressing my ; sincerest sympathy to his brothers and sisters-in-law, Denis and Eileen and Tony and Dorothy, to his nephews and nieces, to his Auntie May Drumgoole and his cousin, Marie Drumgoole, to his Jesuit colleagues, to his many friends, neighbours and to all who mourn Brother Hubert today. It is great to see you all here. I welcome especially Bishop James Corboy, SJ, and the great number of Jesuit Brothers and Priests as well as the staff and students of Gonzaga College. This requiem Mass gives us an opportunity to bid farewell to Hughie and reflect on his life and death.

What does Dying Mean to the Christian?
This is one of the most profound questions which each of us must attempt to answer. It is in its answer we begin to grasp the true meaning of life. In a sense we all should live to die well. I understand that for the many young students here present death is something quite remote but, as Pádraig Mac Piarais wrote in his poem on death: “Brón art an mbás, ní féidir a shéanadh” ("Death is sad, it cannot be denied"). Death cannot be denied or avoided. So, let us face up to it!

I have been pondering on the question of the meaning of dying since I was very young and I have tried to find the answer wherever I could. It was while I was a student of philosophy in Louvain in Belgium in the early 1960s that I got a most helpful answer form a wise and holy Jesuit priest. He said that my whole life comes together or converges into one act at the moment of death. It is really the completion of life and the moment of transition between time and eternity!

The Lifting Up of the Mosaic
It is necessary that we distinguish between physical death, which can be explained by doctors, i.e., the failure of the cardiac and respiratory systems leading to or caused by a cessation of brain function, and what happens to the spiritual and metaphysical person as the body dies. The body becomes a remains! What is in the coffin before us is not Hubert Monaghan, but rather, his remains. We will not bury Hughie in Glasnevin. He is now complete and more alive than we are. So Pádraig Mac Piarais was incorrect when he said in the poem (already quoted): “Och, is fuar é do leaba sa gcillin uaigneach” ("Alas, your bed is cold in the lonely graveyard”). Hughie is alive because as St. Paul says in the Letter to the Romans (just read): “Alive or dead we belong to the Lord” (Romans 14).

Returning to the mosaic analogy, the holy and wise Flemish Jesuit put it like this. Imagine, an artist creating a large mosaic. He builds it piece (or gem)-by-piece over time. He places each precious stone upside down on a flat surface. When the artist has the last gem in place, he binds all the pieces together with a strong adhesive substance. Then comes the great moment of lifting up the mosaic and exposing the completed work of art for the first time to the ecstatic joy of those who view it!

So it is with the life and death of the Christian and of the good person. Throughout our lives we place the precious stones on the mosaic of our lives, i.e., all of those acts of kindness and support, all the sufferings endured, all our work and prayer for others, our good intentions, our good thoughts and prayers, and so forth. The artist building my mosaic is myself responding to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit within me and the good people around me. (Sins do not constitute any part of the mosaic as they are negations, and, once I repent and God forgives, they
are blotted out). We are all contributing to our own mosaic of life every time we do even the smallest act of goodness every day we live and as long as we live! Our guide to those acts of goodness is summarised in the eight beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12), just read in the Gospel Dying, then, is the moment our mosaic is completed and it is unveiled in one great act that brings all my life together. This view of me is what God sees and embraces (it is my judgement) and welcomes home-my true self.

Let Us Now Reflect on Brother Hubert's Mosaic!
Hughie was born and reared in Hardwicke Street, Dublin, and grew-up in a good family. He went to school in Brunswick Street C.B.S. and spent two years as an 'apprentice Radio Serviceman'. He was a very dedicated altar boy in St. Francis Xavier's Church, Gardiner Street (at a time when I used to attend the early Mass each morning when working in Lucas' in North Portland Street in 1950, but I did not know Hubert at the time). He also joined the drama group 'Jo Mac's Productions' and entertained the children in Temple Street Hospital.

When he was nineteen years old (1958) he joined the Jesuits in Emo Park. He served in the Society of Jesus for forty-two years and I had the privilege of sharing a community with him for twenty-two years (i.e. in the Noviceship in Tullabeg, in Milltown Park and in the C.I.R.). What kind of gems did he place in his mosaic? In a short homily it is very difficult to do justice to Hubert.

(a) He was a Hard Worker: Hard work is our best way of serving others. Those of us who knew Hughie must agree he was a very hard worker. There was not an idle bone in his body! If St. Benedict is right when he implied "Laborare est orare" then Hughie was a prayerful man! As a worker he was most obliging. Right up to his final illness, as the staff and students of Gonzaga will bear witness, he worked hard and long hours in the College and in the Community.

(b) He was a person for Others: Hughie, according to most people I have consulted when preparing this sermon, was a person for others. My own experience of him confirms this view. He tried to help people and to persuade others to do likewise. While he was not reluctant to give his view, he was also a good listener, and he was very witty.

When serving in Tullabeg, for instance, Hughie organised a 'school for the house staff and others and I were recruited to help out. Again, in Milltown Park he roped others and me into teaching the house staff in the 'staff school'! We even gave out certificates to those who attended. While working in Galway, he also looked after the staff and became Assistant Director of the 'Boys Club' of which he was very proud.

When Brother Hubert came to the C.I.R. in 1975 for a term of service of fifteen years he worked beyond the call of duty and got to know and help the staff and students. He knew the names of every one of them. He was the human face of the Jesuits for many. He was a quiet, almost hidden worker, who had very little time for image or glossy recognition. He was plant manager of the C.I.R. for years and contributed to its successful survival in a most important way.

For the past nine years he has served in Gonzaga College and Community, where he become College Administrator, Minister of the Jesuit Community and House Consultor - all responsible positions. But Hubert worked on in support of students and staff, His colleagues Ben and Bennie, the Ladies Community and the students owe him much. He has been happy here in Gonzaga.

(c) Hubert the Family Man Hubert was very close to his family as his family was to him. He appointed me as an honorary chaplain' to the Monaghans and this enabled me to get to know his late mother, Madge, his Auntie May (still with us, thank God) and his brothers, sisters-in-law and nephews and nieces. He was very proud of his nephews and nieces. Every Sunday he was free, Denis would call and they had the day together. He loved to visit Tony and family in Preston and enjoyed going to football matches in the local club. He loved football. He was very attached to his family.

(d) Hubert the Jesuit His brother Denis told me the other night that ever since he was an altar boy in Gardiner Street Church, Hubert had only one major desire – to be a Jesuit. And in my experience of him he was a real Jesuit. We both had our difficulties, which we shared, but that even made him (and I hope me) more committed to the Society of Jesus.

Hughie was a Jesuit Brother, which I often think is the truly Jesuit vocation. Often the glamour and prestige of the priesthood gives us Jesuit priests a double identity which may obscure our religious Jesuitness. On completion of my own studies, I remember going to the Rector to explore the possibility of becoming a Jesuit Brother and continuing my academic work as a Brother, I feel I must say this to bear out the point I am making. Of course, my superior's advice was to seek ordination! I still maintain, however, that Jesuits like Hubert only had their Jesuit religious status and in that way they were and are very privileged.

He Brought Christ Closer
The Mosaic of Brother Hubert is now completed and what a mosaic it is! He radiated that basic goodness. Your turn-out today and the impressive scene in the hospital morgue when his Rector, Fr. Brendan Staunton, was visibly and emotionally grieving the loss of such a fine companion and fellow-worker, speaks volumes. He will indeed be missed by his family, by his Jesuit colleagues and all who had the privilege of knowing him. For me, he brought Christ closer. In a way he fulfilled his calling by becoming an Alter Christus for all of us. Thanks Hughie, for being yourself?

Ar Dheis Dé go raibh a anam uasal.

Micheál Mac Gréil, SJ

-oOo-

Beyond an odd handshake at Province gatherings, I had no contact with Hughie Monaghan until 1975, when he arrived in the College of Industrial Relations. We quickly became good friends. I found Hughie to be a very warm person. He made people feel appreciated and I found him an affirming presence. He was a very hard worker, and very flexible, and he made it possible to introduce initiatives in the College that would have been very difficult without him.

At that time, around 1975, Hughie liked an odd pint, as did I. Some evenings after class we would go down to the Sandford House and review the joys and crosses of the day. But we could really only do this in summertime, when there was late closing, as it was customary to offer the students a free cuppa after night classes, so that it was nearly eleven when the premises was vacated. Eventually this got Hughie down, SO (without stating the real reason) he suggested that tea be served between classes, at five minutes to nine. He argued that all the students would go to the tea-room, instead of about a quarter of them, and that this would improve the students' social life. This proved quite correct, and the College's tea bill soared by 400%. The faculty were sceptical that as many as two hundred students could be served tea in 15 minutes, but Hughie ran the tea points like a military operation. The tea-break became the high point of college life, and undoubtedly helped retain and attract students. Perhaps this bears out Camus's assertion that "all great thoughts and all great deeds have ridiculous beginnings".

Hughie talked a lot about the Boys' Club in Galway, where he had been assistant Director. He deeply loved the Club and seemed somewhat sore that he had been moved from Galway. Many people connected with the Club continued to contact him when they were in Dublin and undoubtedly he brought the same warm and caring qualities as he did to his later work

When we began to run classes for unemployed people in the College I encouraged Hughie to get involved, which he did with relish. He was particularly good helping students who had reading and writing difficulties. But he also had a gift for just talking to course participants (he would not have called it 'counselling) and for giving them encouragement during what was a rough patch in their lives. Unfortunately the classes for unemployed came to an end and Hughie missed the involvement. He had a yen for something other than pouring tea and shifting chairs which over time led to a fairly deep dissatisfaction with his role in the College and even in the Society. He did not feel he had fulfilled his potential.

Hughie's deep spirituality sustained him through difficult times. He had been an altar boy in Gardiner Street, just around the corner from his home, and no doubt this laid the foundation of his vocation to the Society. He was not particularly 'pious', but he had a very homely relationship with God. Whenever he talked about God he spoke of him as a good and understanding friend, and I am sure he cheered many people up (he certainly cheered me) with his pithy observations on this theme.

Hughie and I shared a good few interests. One was folk music. He liked to organise parties from time to time in his mother's flat in O'Deveney Gardens, and invited a host of people, Jesuits and others, who could make music. His aunt May, who lived in the flat next door, played the piano for us. He had a group of mainly lay friends who loved music and for many years of the 70s and 80s we gathered regularly in houses and hostelries and played and sang into the small hours. Hughie was more of an appreciative spectator than a performer, but he had a few songs, such as “The Singing Bird", that he sang with great feeling to wild applause. Hughie and I also enjoyed a game of pitch and putt, and when we were in CIR Wednesday afternoon trips to Sandyford became a ritual that helped keep us both sane. We enjoyed a number of holidays together too, including a memorable week in Inishbofin where there were no Gardai to enforce closing time.

Hughie was the quintessential “Dub” and he was intensely proud of his roots in Hardwicke Street. He felt the death of his mother keenly, and the break with the old home. He was a great family man, and was very close to his brother Denis, whom he met every week without fail. He showed enormous devotion to his aunt May as her health gradually declined and there is great poignancy in the fact that she outlived him.

In his fine homily at Hughie's funeral, Micheál Mac Gréil spoke of the part Hughie played in setting up the staff school in Milltown Park. This was typical of Hughie because he always had an eye for the lame ducks or the people on the margins. In the noviceship we were told, “Always look after general needs before particular needs”, but Hughie tended to do the opposite and if someone was in trouble or had a problem everyone else could wait! In CIR Hughie was perhaps closest of all to the voluntary helpers, whose status in the organizational pecking order was probably lowest. He took a keen interest in the Cherry Orchard apostolate, and every Christmas he would give me a big bag of sweets for the local children. When he heard that the children often asked me for stationery items he began to pass on to me the fruits of the end-of term clean ups in Gonzaga, pens, pencils, copy-books and so on left around the place.

Hughie had a rocky start in Gonzaga, but it forced him to face up to some of the tensions in his life. As he gradually worked through these he became much more settled in himself, and happier and more calm than I had ever seen him. I heard from many quarters how much he was liked by the children and the staff and how much they appreciated his warmth, cheerfulness and hard work.

After we both left CIR I did not see so much of Hughie. We enjoyed a few days together in Clogherhead each summer where we could renew our rivalry on the pitch and putt course. He would occasionally meet a group of us who met in Burchill's on Monday night, but as he had decided to give up the drink he was not happy sipping rock shandies and he never stayed for long. In retrospect I think he was also growing tired, and various illnesses and complaints which later became serious were beginning to slow him down.

Hughie is the first close friend I have lost, and his death creates a great gap in our circle of friends. Still, Hughie's vitality and optimism were so great right up to the end that I am still very conscious of him looking down on us with wry humour as we complete our own pilgrimages. May the God he knew as a friend during his life be close to him now in his place of rest.

Bill Toner

◆ The Gonzaga Record 2000

Obituary

Hubert Monaghan SJ

Brother Hubert Monaghan SJ worked at the College from 1991 until shortly before his death, first as Assistant Co-Ordinatior of Pastoral Care and Assistant Administrator, then as Administrator, Community House Consultor and Minister.

After major surgery at St. Vincent's Hospital in May 2000, Hubert was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge where, after an initial steady recovery from his operation he passed away suddenly but peacefully on Monday 29'h May. The following tribute is excerpted from Michael MacGreils sermon at Hubert's funeral mass in Gonzaga.

Hubert Monaghan was born and reared in Hardwicke Street, Dublin, and grew up in a good family. He went to school in Brunswick Street C.B.S. and spent two years as an appren tice radio serviceman. He was a very dedicated altar boy in St Francis Xavier Church, Gardiner St. He also joined the drama group “Jo Mac's Productions” and entertained the children in Temple St. Hospital.

When he was 19 years old in 1958 he joined the Jesuits in Emo Park. He served in the Society for 42 years and I had the privilege of sharing a community with him for 22 years, in
Tullabeg, in Milltown Park and in the CIR. In a short homily it is very difficult to do justice to Hubert.

Hard work is our best way of serving others. Those of us who knew Hughie must agree he was a very hard worker. There was not an idle bone in his body. If St. Benedict is right when he implied laborare est orare then Hughie was a prayerful man! As a worker he was most obliging. Right up to his final illness, as the staff and students at Gonzaga College will bear witness, he worked hard and long hours in the College and the Community.

Hughie, according to most people I consulted when preparing this sermon, was a person for others. My own experience of him confirms this view. He tried to help people and to persuade others to do likewise. While he was not reluctant to give his view, he was also a good listener, and he was very witty.

When serving in Tullabeg, for instance, Hughie organised a “school” for the house staff and others and I were recruited to help out. Again in Milltown Park he roped others into teaching the house staff in the “staff school”! We even gave out certificates to those who attended. While working in Galway he also looked after the staff and became assistant director of the Boys' Club, of which he was very proud.

When Brother Hubert came to the CIR in 1975 for a term of service of 15 years he worked beyond the call of duty and got to know and help the staff and students. He knew the names of every one of them. He was, for many, the human face of the Jesuits. He was a quiet, almost hidden worker, who had very little time for image or glossy recognition. He was plant manager of the CIR for years and contributed to its successful survival in a most important way.

For the past nine years he served in Gonzaga College and Community, where he became College Administrator, Minister of the Community and House Consultor-all responsible positions. But Hubert worked in support of students and staff. His colleagues Ben Donovan and Benny Lynham, the Ladies Committee and the students owe him much. He was happy here in Gonzaga.

Hubert was very close to his family, as his family was to him. He appointed me as honorary Chaplain to the Monaghans and this enabled me to get to know his late mother Madge, his Auntie May, and his brothers, sisters-in-law and nephews and nieces. He was very proud of his nephews and nieces. Every Sunday he was free, Denis would call and they would have the day together. He loved to visit Tony and family in Preston and enjoyed going to football matches in the local club. He loved football. He was very attached to his family.

His brother Denis told me the other night that ever since he was an altar boy in Gardiner St. Hubert had only one major desire-to be a Jesuit. And in my experience he was a real Jesuit. Everything in his life made him more committed to the Society of Jesus.

Hughie was a Jesuit Brother, which I often think is the truly Jesuit vocation. Often the glamour and prestige of the priesthood gives us Jesuit priests a double identity which may obscure our religious Jesuitness. On completion of my own studies, I remember going to the Rector to explore the possibility of becoming a Jesuit brother and continuing my academic work as a Brother, I feel I must say this to bear out the point I am making. Of course, my superior's advice was to seek ordination! I still maintain, however, that Jesuits like Hubert only had their Jesuit religious status and in that way they were and are very privileged.

Hubert radiated basic goodness. This turn-out today and the response of his friends and colleagues speaks volumes. He will indeed be missed by his family, by his Jesuit col leagues and all who had the privilege of knowing him. For me, he brought Christ closer. In a way he fulfilled his calling by becoming an Alter Christus for all of us.

Thanks, Hughie, for being yourself! Ar Dheis De go raibh a anam uasal.

Moylan, John, 1938-2012, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/750
  • Person
  • 01 March 1938-26 November 2012

Born: 01 March 1938, Ennis, County Clare
Entered: 07 September 1955, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 10 July 1969, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 17 September 1985, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 26 November 2012, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin community at the time of death

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1963 at Chantilly, France (GAL S) studying
by 1971 at Auriesville, NY, USA (NEB) making Tertianship
by 1972 at St Gregory NY, USA (NEB) studying
by 1996 at Berkeley, CA, USA (CAL) studying

Mulcahy, Donal B, 1912-1994, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/521
  • Person
  • 22 April 1912-21 April 1994

Born: 22 April 1912, Sandymount, Dublin
Entered: 03 September 1930, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1944, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 February 1947, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 21 April 1994, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Early education at Belvedere College SJ

◆ Interfuse No 82 : September 1995 & ◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1995 & ◆ The Gonzaga Record 1995

Obituary

Fr Donal Mulcahy (1922-1994)

12th April 1922: Born in Dublin
Education: Holy Faith, Glasnevin; Belvedere
3rd Sept. 1930: Entered Society at Emo, Co. Laois
4th Sept. 1932: First Vows at Emo
1932 - 1935: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD, BA
1935 - 1938: Philosophy at Tullabeg, Co. Offaly
1938 - 1941: Belvedere College, Teacher and H.Dip in Ed
1941 - 1945: Theology at Milltown Park
31st July 1944: Ordained a at Milltown Park by J.C. McQuaid
1945 - 1946: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1946 - 1953; Mungret College, Teacher and Spiritual Father to the boys
1953 - 1962: Gardiner Street and teaching Religion at DIT (Bolton Street)
1960 - 1962: Minister, Ministering in the Church
1962 - 1971: Manresa House, Superior
1972 - 1979; Consultor of the Province
1973 - 1977: Dooradoyle, Superior
1977 - 1983: Tullabeg, Superior
1983 - 1993: Gonzaga, Minister, Treasurer
1983-1985: Treasurer, Rathfarnham Castle
1983-1989: Milltown Institute, Financial Director
1993 - 1994: Gonzaga, living in Cherryfield
21st April 1994: Died

A perspicacious man my father would have called him - and Donal was a father to me for over 12 years. Perspicacious means: of quick mental insight, understanding, perceptive, reasoned, comprehending. The reading from the Book of Wisdom rightly celebrates Donal's wise common sense and his quality of judgement - totally caring, totally honest, never judgmental.

It was that wisdom that the boys in Mungret received when he was spiritual father, Latin teacher, Junior Cup Team trainer. The students in Bolton Street enjoyed that same wisdom during his time as chaplain there in the 50's. Those who were Province consultors or house consultors with him over the years experienced and appreciated it. It was this wisdom, deepened with prayer, that he brought to his community building, his genius for home making.

Donal's home making career began here in Gardiner Street in 1960 and it was this trade that he continued to ply as Rector in Manresa from '62, Minister in Crescent from '71, Rector in Dooradoyle, which he built from scratch in '73, Superior in Tullabeg at Rahan from '77 and as minister/bursar in Gonzaga from '83 up to last summer. In all of these places he enhanced the physical surroundings, and community facilities, with an eagle eye to financial rectitude! In so doing he freed his fellow Jesuits for their work, with confidence that there was a warm home to return to and be refreshed humanly and spiritually. The second reading could not be more apt to describe Donal's philosophy and way of life.

Let love be genuine, hate what is evil; hold fast to what is good; love one another with brotherly affection, outdo one another in showing honour, never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer, contribute to the needs of the saints, practise hospitality.

Communities in Donal's care lived in that atmosphere. His nephews, nieces and grand-nephews/nieces will attest to his deep interest in their well-being, academic, sporting, career prowess, his shrewd assessments and warm encouragement. We Jesuits received the same concern and help. Truly a man who overcame evil with good.

The loyalty and generosity Donal showed to everyone, high and low, is legendary. The contacts he made through the Garden Fetes in Manresa and Tullabeg, the custom he gave those who were loyal to him, the reliability of his husbandry and hospitality, reminded me of the Gospel scene, where Jesus tantalised his friends only to enrich their understanding and grasp the real meaning of life. Donal lived that hospitality that made people “stay awhile” and break bread with him.

But despite all this, Donal was not perfect, you'll be sorry to hear. And if ever you watched TV with him, it is something to hear you would get..... in the form of quite disconcerting snoring! followed by an awakening and the question...,”Did I miss much” or “tell me what has happened so far!”. I understand such a characteristic was shared with his brothers: I do not know if it is hereditary! But I'm sure his sense of humour is, and his enjoyment of the simple things in life: there was nothing he liked better than a good variety show with wholesome humour. He was even addicted to the Late Late Show, God help us, Glenroe and the Rose of Tralee, the highlight of the year, along with Tops of the Town. He enjoyed a good “who done it” novel, or his fishing when on holidays.

Donal's untiring humanity is borne out in the courage he had in overcoming his speech impediment and the crippling arthritis over so many of his later years. Can any of us remember him complaining, making demands, being inconsiderate of others? The manner of his dying typifies his character, no fuss, minimal disruption, the choir didn't even get a day off school!

Donal's last words to me Thursday evening, about 20 minutes before he died, were, “There's nothing I need and thanks very much for coming” - a typical response from him.

My last words to you, now, Donal are: “Thanks for being there, so many times, for so many of us in our need. You revealed the Lord in the hospitality of the home, in the breaking of the bread for us, may you now be "at home", as he breaks bread with you”.

John Dunne

Mulligan, John M, 1920-1986, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/187
  • Person
  • 18 April 1920-29 May 1986

Born: 18 April 1920, Swinford, County Mayo
Entered: 07 September 1943, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 29 July 1954, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1981, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 29 May 1986, Our Lady Queen of Peace, Bray, County Wicklow

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

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 61st Year No 3 1986
Obituary
Fr John Mary Mulligan (1920-1943-1986)
18th April 1920: born. Lived in Swinford, Co Mayo. Studied for the diocesan priesthood at Clonliffe and Maynooth colleges. 7th September 1943: entered SJ. 1943-45 Emo, noviciate. Bypassed juniorate. 1945-48 Tullabeg, philosophy. 1948-51 Mungret, regency. 1951-56 Milltown, theology. 1956-57 Rathfarnham, tertianship.
1957-69 Gardiner Street: 1957-60 assistant, Jesuit Mission office, also (1958-60) house bursar; 1960-69 assistant to national director, Pioneer TAA.
1969-71 minister of houses: 1969-70 Mungret, 1970-71 Gonzaga.
1971-86 curate in Dublin parishes: 1971-77 Finglas West, 1977-83 Halston Street and Arran Quay, all the while attached to Belvedere; 1983-86 Bray (Queen of Peace), while attached to Gonzaga. 29th May 1986: died.

John Mulligan was 24 when I first met him, in my first year in the noviceship, and his second, We looked on him as very old, not just because of the six-year gap between him and us boys just out of school, but because he had experienced a lot. He could entertain us with stories of his home in Swinford - he always had deep roots in county Mayo - and of his school days in the national school and in Blackrock college, which he loved dearly and spoke of always with affection. More than that, he knew Clonliffe, where he was classmate of many who
were to go into Dublin diocese. He could speak of Maynooth too, which he had left to enter the Jesuits. He seemed to be a man cut out in every way to be a priest. Even though his mother was alive and survived for many years, he was in a sense an alone man. His father had died when John was young and his only sister Kitty died tragically only two years
after our noviceship together. He was a bit like that legendary biblical figure Melchizedeck, who is remembered as a high priest and as a man without ancestors, without family, a man alone.
John did indeed cling closely to his family. He had cousins and relations all over Ireland, and he worked to keep in touch with them. He travelled to Cork and Wexford and Mayo and Dublin and kept all the different relations in touch with all the rest.
Yet there was the lonely priest about him. He had a clear public personality. He presented himself easily, warm, talkative, with a fund of entertaining chat. He had an extraordinary memory for names. He was a people's person. He loved people, wherever he went, in Finglas, Halston street, Bray, all around the country in the earlier years, he met people, placed them in their relations, and was enormously interested in them. He was indeed a man of considerable culture, and a clever man, which you discovered if you played bridge with him - he had a remarkable head for cards.
He was a very sharp chess player. He could finish the Times crossword as fast as anybody I know. He had a great store of literature by heart; loved to recite Macaulay's passage on the Church of Rome which would outlast empires; and the last paragraph of Francis Thompson's life of Ignatius Loyola, with its vision of the soldier saint.
But “culture” did not mean as much to him as people. On one occasion he was on a holiday with friends in Vienna, admiring the masterpieces of European Art in the Staatsmuseum. John made an excuse and slipped away from them, and was found later poring over the London Times in a coffee shop. He had calculated that the only newspaper available in Vienna that would cover the Irish general election - then at the counting stage - would be the Times : so he found a newsagent that sold it, and devoured it to satisfy his hungry curiosity as to who had got the fifth seat in the Laois-Offaly constituency. He loved Ireland, loved its people, even its politicians, loved them as he found them, as they are.
John's easy presence and talk, his public persona, stood him in good stead in the one work as a priest which he did superbly, the most important task in the life of a parish priest, namely visiting the parish. He was faithful to his district, visited everyone systematically, and this is not always easy. You may arrive in the middle of a good television programme, or in the middle of a fight between children of parents; you may be rebuffed or made unwelcome. But John persisted as the presence of the Christian community, of the Church, in going from house to house, and letting people know that he was interested in them.
As we think about the public person of John, we must ask how did he keep it up? There was another side to him. He had few and simple pleasures: reading the paper, doing the crossword, talking to friends. A few years ago he gave up two of the pleasures which meant a good deal to him, smoking and alcohol. Again one wonders about the private life that lay behind such a renunciation. It was a life hidden in God. Again you wonder how he was so contented in himself, happy with the second place. He was Assistant throughout his life: assistant to the director of foreign missions, assistant to the director of the Pioneers, assistant to this or that superior, assistant in parishes - at 66 he was still a curate. Yet one never felt an ambition in him, or a resentment at not having the top job. There was an unworldliness about John. It wasn't that he didn't see worldliness: he could be very funny about people who were too attached to money, whether clergy or laity. But he didn't rant against them, and himself he was open-handed and generous.
He had in the last months quite a sense of his final call. A couple of weeks before the end, in Lourdes, when he was wheeling an invalid around, he felt a stabbing pain and had to stop. He was found to have had a coronary attack; but he carried on, and did not talk about it when he returned to Ireland. One Saturday, in a house with friends, invited to play a boisterous game with children, he said: 'I can't anymore. My hands feel like sacks of potatoes.' A few days later in the sacristy he felt another warning pain, and before he went to bed he got in his car and drove into Gonzaga to talk - to say goodbye? - to his community. Then he went to bed and died peacefully in his sleep, as he would have wanted. He always said that in his family he couldn't expect to live to seventy. May he continue to remember us to God, as we remember him.
Paul Andrews

Murphy, David, 1944-1982, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/19
  • Person
  • 15 May 1944-21 May 1982

Born: 15 May 1944, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1962, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 21 June 1974, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows 29 December 1980, Tabor House, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 21 May 1982, St Luke's Hospital, Dublin

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

by 1968 at Chantilly France (GAL S) studying
by 1975 at Grenelle Paris (GAL) teaching
by 1979 at Copenhagen Denmark (GER S) working

◆ Companions in Mission 1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
‘A tall, determined young man’ is what first comes to mind when David's name is mentioned. He was born in Dublin on 15 May 1944 and attended Gonzaga College for his secondary schooling. He was one of the school's first vocations and entered the Society at Emo in 1962. At the University he took English and French for his degree and French culture had a special appeal for him, so he went to Chantilly, France, for his philosophy in 1967. For regency he came to Zambia in August 1969 and after six months working at the ciTonga language, he moved into Canisius Secondary School as a teacher. ‘A certain intolerance for what he saw as the merely conventional began to emerge. There was something a little wooden and naive in his own attitude but his indignation at another man's apparent failure in charity or common sense for the sake of conventional propriety never led to a lessening regard for those he disagreed with’. He took on a number of 'causes': prisoners' rights (Dublin, Copenhagen, Northern Ireland), opposition to apartheid in South Africa, Third World problems (which increased that intolerance), and a distaste for injustice of any kind.

He was ordained in Milltown Park on 21st June 1974 and went to America for a few months. It was while there that the brain tumour which finally killed him came to light. That settled the question of whether he should return to Zambia where he had so enjoyed teaching. Still, though slowed down by his illness and treatment, he went to Paris for two years to study pastoral theology. After a year in Gardiner Street parish, he returned to Paris for another year 1977.

In 1978 he undertook what was perhaps the most amazing adventure of all, he became prison chaplain in Copenhagen (Denmark) to those non-Danish prisoners who neither spoke nor understood either English or French. His sense of outrage at what he saw as the callous mistreatment of a fairly wretched group by a reputedly sophisticated society was quick to surface and he did not hesitate to communicate it to others’. The last two years of his life he spent in Dublin receiving treatment for his tumour. He did a little parish work and prison visiting at Mountjoy prison.

His final illness as he moved in and out of comas and became increasingly paralysed and humiliatingly dependent was a deeply harrowing time, above all for David himself but also for his community and brave family. He died on 21 May 1982 in his 38th year of life.

People who knew David found him to be gentle, humorous, kindly, while at the same time determined and single minded. He was angered by humbug and pretence. On these occasions he could be rigidly uncompromising. His strong character showed a deep personal honesty and integrity. To the end, he was very appreciative of the dedicated help he received from those who were looking after him, both at St Luke's Cancer hospital and from his own religious community.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 57th Year No 3 1982
Obituary
Fr David Murphy (1944-1962-1982)

David Murphy came to the Society in the middle of the brief boom at the start of the sixties. Son of Michael, an active and well-loved Old Clongownian and related, through his mother, to Fr Paddy O’Kelly, he had spent his schooldays in Gonzaga and was one of the school's first vocations. We were 24 in the class of ‘62, reduced to 15 by vow-day two years later and now, with David’s course already completed, numbering just eight. But in those days the cameratas bulged on the seams, we had enough to play two soccer matches on a Sunday afternoon and Fr Socius Timoney’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of a huge workforce to be unleashed on the unsuspecting “clochar”, come the Long Retreat.
From the beginning David stood out. He was a big man, both in body and spirit. The monastic style of Emo in those preconciliar days required just the qualities of generosity and inwardness which David abundantly possessed. He was a very diligent, reliable novice but never lacking in a sense of humour to keep things in proportion. He was a good athlete - who can forget him, then and later, putting in those disconcertingly long-legged tackles at centre-half and rising above everybody to head clear? On the tennis-court, where a novice's spirit of charity could be tested, David was a tough but always impeccably courteous opponent.
He was in Rathfarnham from 1964-67 and enjoyed the university years. He was a solid student and got a solid degree in English and French. But for David there was much more to life in UCD than study or the narrow constraints of the set curriculum. It was from him that we all first heard of Merleau-Ponty and we used to be aghast at his facility for persuading the likes of Monsieur Cognon and Dr Denis Donoghue to take him down to the Shelbourne between lectures for coffee and earnest discussion. These encounters were neither engineered to curry favour with his teachers nor narrated afterwards to impress his companions in the Juniorate. I have rarely known anyone so free of human respect or fear of what others might think.
French culture had a special appeal for David - he was to spend five of his 20 years as a Jesuit in France - and in 1967 he went to Chantilly for philosophy. He became interested in Freud, an interest he never lost, and was reputed to have managed an interview with the reclusive Samuel Beckett by the simplest of stratagems - going along and knocking on the great man's door.
He volunteered for the missions after philosophy and went to Zambia with Colm Brophy in 1969. That David should have wanted to be a missionary was wholly in character and exemplified his courage, generosity, independence and spirit of adventure. It was in France and in Zambia, I think, that something else began to emerge - a certain intolerance of what he saw as the merely conventional. There was possibly something a little wooden and naïve in his own attitude but his indignation at another man's apparent failure in charity or commonsense for the sake of conventional propriety never led to a lessening of respect for those he disagreed with. He was not inclined to judge motives; he simply could not understand their behaviour. In later years, when he was ill and when his causes had become prisoners' rights (whether in Dublin, in Northern Ireland, or in Denmark) and opposition to apartheid, the intolerance increased and the interpretation of some situations could seem a little lopsided. But behind it was always David's own utter decency and his extreme distaste for injustice of any kind.
After three years in Milltown Park at theology, he was ordained by Archbishop Ryan on 21st June, 1974 and, that summer, while he was in America, the brain tumour which finally killed him first came to light. After that there could be no question of returning to Zambia. But, although slowed down by his illness and the treatment, David was not prepared to make major concessions to it or to opt for the life of an invalid. He went to Paris for two years and did his best to study pastoral theology. After that there was a year in Gardiner street, where he did some work in the parish and even began to teach himself Spanish. Typically, he visited the headquarters of Sinn Féin in Gardiner Place (now the Workers' Party) and, despite their known Marxist leanings and presumed hostility to the Church, coolly informed them that they were in his area and that he was available, should they require him in his capacity as a priest. History does not record what they said; they were probably too surprised to say anything.
In 1977 he went back to Paris for another year and then, in 1978, undertook what was perhaps the most amazing adventure of all, becoming prison chaplain in Copenhagen to those non-Danish prisoners who spoke or could understand either English or French. Without Danish or German (the native language of most of the Jesuits in Scandinavia) and not well enough to try to learn either, most others would have been daunted by such an assignment. But not David. His sense of outrage at what hę saw as the callous mistreatment of a fairly wretched group by a reputedly sophisticated society was quick to surface and he did not hesitate to communicate it to others. At that time he was full of hopeful and touchingly zealous schemes for other Jesuits to come from Ireland and join him. But of his own ministry he told us little or nothing. It appears that he and his Mexican colleague were awarded a substantial humanitarian prize in Denmark for a report they drew up on the sufferings of prisoners in solitary confinement. How typical of David that we should learn of this only now, after his death.
The last two years of his life were spent between Tabor, Milltown Park, Sherrard street and St Luke's, under the darkening cloud of his illness. He did not cease to work for as long as he could, among other things involving himself in prison visitation at Mountjoy. Although formally assigned to tertianship in the autumn of 1980, he never went. Instead, he made his solemn profession, in the presence of his family, his Jesuit friends and a few others, in Milltown on 29th December. It was not a sombre or despairing ceremony but serious, courageous, trusting. The readings were David's own choice, beginning with the vocation of Abraham narrated in the Book of Genesis: “Leave your country, your family and your father's house, for the land I will show you ....” It seemed to express not only his history as a missionary but also a constant quality of detachment in his own life and his mysterious and painful destiny to leave all things in death a few days after his 38th birthday.
After that the visits to St Luke’s became more frequent and more prolonged. His final illness, as he moved in and out of comas and became increasingly paralysed and humiliatingly dependent, was a deeply harrowing time, above all for David himself but also for his community and his brave family. He (and they) bore it with courage and with a dignity that was always distinctive of him, a sense of inwardness and understatement noticeable in him from the beginning. He died early in the morning of 21st May and was buried the next day, after a moving funeral Mass in Gardiner street.

Many of us who knew David found him to be gentle, humorous, kindly: while at the same time, determined and single- minded. In his last years of failing health these qualities were very much to the fore. Determination and single-minded ness marked his struggle to cope with his illness. Not a moment was wasted. He was constantly planning, even against the odds, for future work and leisure. He vibrated enthusiasm in his own unique way, living a very full and varied life, never giving in to the pressures and limitations of deteriorating health.
One of the most remarkable features of the past seven years of David's life has been that they were years of solid achievement despite the burden of ill-health.
As a prison chaplain he was outstanding. His strong character was shown at its best in recent years in the lively and sincere concern he shared with those who were suffering or oppressed. Only those who were closest to him know of the active and priestly work which consumed so much of his little energy. Typical of such activity was his work in the prisons at Copenhagen and Mountjoy. One of his fellow-chaplains remarked recently that what impressed the prisoners deeply was 'the driving interest David had in their welfare - when it was perfectly obvious to even the most casual observer, that he was gravely ill. Yet his major concern seemed to be with their problems rather than his own. Here, as in everything else, he gave himself unstintingly to the needs of others.
His influence was pervasive. He made many friends in widely differing walks of life and, as always, once he made friends they became friends for life. He had the respect and affection of those who were close to him. Not surprisingly, he is sorely missed.
David was at his best when faced with challenge. When the serious nature of his illness first became apparent the immediate future looked extremely gloomy. It seemed evident at the time that David's highly active life was going to be greatly restricted. Yet, after initial hospital treatment, he was off on his travels once again - this time back to Paris where he continued to take his English classes at Franklin. His dogged determination to live as normal a life for as long as possible was remarkably obvious. He had great difficulty at this time in adapting to the fact that his resources of energy were much diminished. He tried so very hard to continue as before but it was clear that changes would have to be made.
When David returned from France many of us expected him to slow down the pace – at least a little! But he had hardly settled back before he was off again: this time to Copenhagen as prison chaplain to the English-speaking prisoners. He spent two years in Denmark. While he found his work very satisfying and invigorating he found certain aspects of community life very difficult.
His qualities of gentleness and concern for those who were oppressed were predominant at this time. He was particularly prominent in speaking out on behalf of those whom he considered were being treated unfairly or unjustly. His major concern was for the dignity of the individual which he considered to be sacred. He was angered by humbug or pretence. On these occasions he could be rigidly uncompromising. There are many stories and anecdotes he used recount of his experiences in Copenhagen. But even when he spoke of the setbacks they were usually related with a touch of humour And yet he was very appreciative of rather than bitterness.
So many of these experiences reveal his questioning mind which refused to be browbeaten. His strong character showed a deep degree of personal honesty and integrity.
David felt very strongly on certain matters. His stand on such issues as anti-apartheid, prisoners' rights, Northern Ireland, the Third World etc. left no room for ambiguity. While many in the Province may not always have synchronised with his views there was never any doubting his personal integrity and dedication. David advocated his cause fearlessly and enthusiastically, always seeking to implement his vision. Even when time for active involvement was obviously getting shorter, his lively spirit did not diminish. To the end he was alert to the issues which gave him so much of his inner fire.
He was gifted with an active and enquiring mind. The adventure and mystery of life provided him with a never-ending search into the deeper questions of the world which surrounds us. This search, for him, could never be satisfied by dallying on the surface. Before his illness, David had a deep-rooted fascination with the power of the written word as an instrument for research and as a means of expression. One of his greatest frustrations in recent years was the incapacity to express himself clearly in writing. And yet his enquiring mind remained unbowed: always the active lively interest in so of his causes célèbres'. In the closing weeks of his life he was gathering his thoughts on the dignity that is due to the 'incurable patient in hospital. He was adamant that patients in hospital should never be made feel that they are in danger of being reduced to the category of prisoner' with no control over the ordinary decisions that affect their lives. His own reaction to hospitalisation was a clear indication of his feelings on this matter.
And yet he was very appreciative of the dedicated help he received from those who were looking after him. He had respect and admiration for the staff of St Luke's whom he considered to be “good listeners and who did not make you feel that there were two types of person, the sick and the non-sick”. He was also very much aware of the fact that without the devotion and selfless generosity of Br Joe Cleary he could never have managed to have the degree of independence that marked his time at Milltown.
To say that David had a zest for living would surely be a gross understatement!, He had an insatiable appetite for travel and new discovery. It was reflected in his great enthusiasm for life. He loved people and he loved living. Despite the difficulties with which he struggled during the past seven years the bedrock of his enthusiasm remained undimmed.
So many of his friends remember, maybe even with a touch of humour, how the suggestion of foreign travel could revive David's spirits in recent times. Shortly before his death he was already preparing for the possibility of another trip to the Holy Land. It was fitting. Many of those who knew him intimately will remember him as a citizen of the world', always preparing for new Voyages of discovery and . meeting new people.
He went to God on the day following: the Ascension. We can only imagine how enthusiastically he is revelling in this new! to the world of discovery. It is difficult to visualise David resting in peace with many such a brave new world to be explored!
It is only the annals of eternity that will reveal to the full the outstanding and selfless dedication of this remarkable priest. His deep faith and trust in God was an inspiration. It was typical of the man that self-pity and self-concern were never his major preoccupations. The heavy burden of ill-health he accepted as part of the mysterious plan of redemption for a suffering world. His faith was solid and shown in his apostolic enthusiasm. He was constantly preoccupied in trying to bring the peace of God to those whop were suffering in any way. Much of this work is hidden in the God whom he served faithfully. he comforted many who wept the tears of life, and gave new hope and encouragement to those threatened by difficulty and despair.
He was truly what Ignatius would like us all to be: a man for others.
CH

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 66 : September 1991

JUNE 1991 - 1491 TO 1991

Jim O’Higgins

A memorial, sent to the host of the Province Day, by Jim O'Higgins, brother-in-law of the late David Murphy, S.J.

This is the best day of my life he said
Dougie in the dining hall
Where sacerdotal homburg hat had just been
recorded as a rarity
Yet welcomed by the sweaters and the jeans
All synthesising with the greys, the garbs
The collars of the brothers
Vested in the clothes
of ordinary people
As Inigo on the path to Monserrat

First Salmeron and Brouet from Romes perspective
Strove to understand the lapsing unbelief of chiefs
Of Northern Donegal
And the Celts invective almost quenched
Their spirit but for the epistle from
the Basque
Now from Northwest of Ireland the Companions
They have sent their own emissary
To Rome to reach to unbelievers with good news

This is 'effective effective as the infiltration
Of Peter Kenny and his confreres
To prepare a people for emancipation
Through Castle Browne and Galway

Urging and creating a new “energy”
And support for ancient classicists and young feminists

For Arrupe, Peter-Hans G.C. 32
For Kostka and Columbiere

In 1991 in June they gathered
A great day in my life said Dougie
Quincentennial day for comrades
For the men for others.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1986

David Murphy SJ

David was born in 1944 in Dublin, and spent his school days at Gonzaga Col lege. On leaving school he entered the Jesuit novitiate in 1962. The monastic style of Emo Park in those days re quired just the qualities of generosity and inwardness which David abund antly possessed.

He was in Rathfarnham Castle from 1964 to 1967 and enjoyed his years at university. He took his degree in English and French. French culture had a special appeal for David, and he spent five of his twenty years as a Jesuit in France. He went to Chantilly for philosophy. He became interested in Freud, an interest he never lost, and was reputed to have managed an inter view with the reclusive Samuel Beckett by the simplest of stratagems – going along and knocking on the great man's door. After philosophy he did his regency in Zambia. He returned to Milltown Park for theology and was ordained by Archbishop Ryan on 21 June 1974.

While he was in America that sum mer the brain tumour which finally killed him first came to light. Typically, David was not prepared to make major concessions to it or opt for the life of an invalid.

In 1977 he went back for a third time to Paris for pastoral theology. In 1978 he undertook what was perhaps the most amazing adventure of all: he became prison chaplain in Copenhagen to those non-Danish prisoners who spoke or could understand either English or French. His sense of outrage at what he saw as the callous treatment of a fairly wretched group by a reputedly sophisticated society was quick to surface and he did not hesitate to communicate it to others. He and a Mexican colleague were awarded a substantial humanitarian prize in Denmark for a report they drew up on the sufferings of prisoners in solitary confinement. It was so like David that we learned of this only after his death.

The last two years of his life were spent between Tabor, Sherrard Street, and St Luke's Hospital. He was too weak to undertake the Tertianship. Instead, he made his solemn profes
sion in the presence of his family and some friends in Milltown Park, on 29 December. It was not a sombre cere mony, but serious, courageous, and trusting. The readings were David's own choice, beginning with the voc ation of Abraham: 'Leave your coun try, your family, and your father's house, for the land I will show you? It seemed to express not only his history as a missionary, but also a constant quality of detachment in his own life, and his mysterious and painful destiny to leave all things in death a few days after his thirty-eighth birthday.

Murphy, Edmond, 1913-1994, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/12
  • Person
  • 08 July 1913-20 January 1994

Born: 08 July 1913, Limerick City
Entered: 04 October 1937, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1948, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows 02 February 1951, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 20 January 1994, Beechfield Manor, Dublin

Part of Belvedere College SJ community at time of death.

by 1979 at Coventry England (ANG) working.

◆ Interfuse No 82 : September 1995 & ◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1995

Obituary

Fr Edmond (Eddie) Murphy (1913-1994)

8th July 1913; Born in Limerick
Secondary studies: C.B.S., Sexton Street, Limerick. Taught at primary level for two and a half years.
4th Oct. 1937: Entered the Society at Emo
5th Oct. 1939: First Vows at Emo
1939 - 1941: Lived at Rathfarnham while studying Arts at UCD.
1941 - 1944: Philosophy at Tullabeg
1944 - 1945: Regency in Belvedere College
1945 - 1949: Theology at Milltown Park
28th July 1948: Ordained a priest in Milltown Park by Bishop J.C. McQuaid
1949 - 1950: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1950 - 1965: Belvedere College, Prefect of Studies, Junior School
1965 - 1967: Gonzaga College, Prefect of Studies
1967 - 1978: Belvedere College, Teacher
1978 - 1980: Coventry, England, working in a Parish
1980 - 1984: Belvedere College, Teacher
1984 - 1985: Loyola House, Province Secretary
1985 - 1994: Belvedere College
1985 - 1991: Writer and Confessor to the Boys
1991 - 1994: Praying for the Society and the Church
20th Jan. 1994: Died at Beechfield Nursing Home, Shankill, Co. Dublin

To the believing Christian the words of St. Paul (from our first reading) “Our homeland is in heaven” give meaning to the gift of life - to our passage through life - and, finally, to our passage from life. As we celebrate this Mass in thanksgiving for the life of Fr. Eddie Murphy, we rejoice in his passing from this world in spite of the sorrow that his death occasions in each of us. Such is the paradox of the Christian Faith - such is the gift of that Hope in which we live out our lives - and such are the thoughts which our love for him bring to our hearts this morning.

The life of Fr. Eddie Murphy can be traced in the footsteps of His Master and Teacher. From early childhood - and numerous are the instances recounted by his family! - by word and example he taught his younger brothers and sisters the path of rectitude and right living. After leaving school in his native Limerick, he became a Primary School Teacher, and at the age of 24, joined the Jesuits in 1937. He received the B.A. degree in English, Latin and Irish, and, apart from the period of formation, spent nearly all of his life in the classroom, most of it in Belvedere College.

He is remembered as a person with a deep love of the vocation of Teaching - with high and strict standards set and demanded - yet he is recalled as a person with a deep interest in the individual student, which extended far beyond the confines of the classroom. He is also fondly remembered for the help and advice given to many young teachers starting out on their career. For 15 years - from 1950 to 1965 - Eddie was a much respected Headmaster of the Junior School in Belvedere. He brought to his mastery of the classroom techniques a great love of music - he was an enthusiastic listener, player and even composer - witness his STRING QUARTET in E MINOR of 1982!

That, in a few short lines, is the resume of the life of this teacher, faithful both to that profession and to his Jesuit vocation. After his retirement from teaching, he spent two years in parochial work in Coventry (during which time he undertook the challenging task of translating into English the Memorial of one of the founding companions of the Society of Jesus, B1, Peter Fabre). Unfortunately, he did not live to see his work in print. He also wrote short lives of Jesuits Blessed and Saints. At the end of 1980 he returned to his beloved Belvedere to live out the last 15 years of his life.

Apart from two years spent under his guidance in regency in Gonzaga College in the 60's, it was during these last years that I knew him best. His urbane deportment and interest in all things intellectual failed to hide a quite delicious and often mischievous sense of humour, of which the brethren in the community have been recalling the most outrageous examples during these past two days.

Just over 5 years ago, Fr, Eddie suffered the first of many minor strokes, which gradually slowed him down, and eventually led him along a path which, known only to God, seemed such a mysterious vocation for one who had been gifted with such an outstanding interest in the things of the mind.

The words of Christ in St. John's Gospel in this Mass summarise very well the diptych which has been his life. When young and in his prime, Fr. Eddie enjoyed God's gifts to the full - and he shared the fruits of them with others........ but, in the evening of his life, he followed St. Peter: “when you are old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will bind you and take you where you don't want to go”.

I think that it is in this latter living out of his vocation that Eddie made his greatest offering to God. It is not for us to pass judgement on the ways in which God deals with another, yet there were times when we were tempted to ask why the Lord did not call him home, as his bodily strength failed, as his contemporaries passed on and as he faded into silence. But we can always bear witness to the ways in which God speaks to us through others.....and it is in this faith-context that we can thank God for the gift of Eddie Murphy, the patient.

One of the pillars of the Foundation of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is the unconditional and complete offering of ourselves to God - in such a way that, “as far as we are concerned, we should not prefer health to sickness, riches to poverty, honour to dishonour, a long life to a short life”. Over 50 years ago, Eddie made that offering when he pronounced his First Vows in the Society of Jesus, and how well was that young man's commitment honoured in these last years of life, unheralded and unsung in the eyes of the world, yet as precious and fruitful as any years spent in his active ministry. Of what use, the world may ask, was this life of helpless existence? Only to the eyes of Faith can the answer be apparent - for I deeply believe that Eddie was asked to “hang on”, as it were, so that God could show forth the strength of love and draw out from others the extraordinary outpouring of living care and concern of which Eddie was the recipient from those whose vocation it is to look after the sick and helpless. I can only record my unbounded admiration for the nursing and caring Staff who showed their love for an old and feeble man in such a deeply Christian way. As I welcome you here, I hope that, when you think of Fr. Eddie Murphy, you will do so with pride in your work and with a deep sense of gratitude to God for having given you the grace to love him so well! In shouldering his needs, you have shouldered the yoke of Christ - you have learned from Eddie as well - and you have been gentle and very loving in heart - and you brought him rest for body and soul. Thanks to you, he could find Christ's yoke easy and His burden light.

Eddie waited so long for the coming of Our Saviour to call him home - but now his old enfeebled body (St. Paul speaks of "these wretched bodies of ours") will be transfigured into a copy of Christ's glorious body.

Fr Eddie's passing reminds us of the gift of life and the mystery of death - of God's forgiveness and our hope in Him - of our need to count on His word and to wait for Him.

To those of you who have joined us this morning to say farewell to Eddie, we, his Family and his Brother-Jesuits, thank you for the gift of your friendship and love for him.......and we pray that God, who spoke to you through him, will reward you for your love of him, “in full measure, pressed down and overflowing”.

We cannot but rejoice with and for Eddie - even in the midst of our sadness at this parting. But, when our sorrow has eased with the passage of time, may we be able to look back and recall what we shared together - and laugh at the fun-times - and in our laughter, may we give thanks.

As we celebrate this Eucharist, we reaffirm our Faith that “our homeland is in heaven”. As we pray for Eddie, we ask God to grant us the grace to be reunited with him in that heavenly home. As we say farewell, we say may you be with God, Eddie. And we say may God be-with-you, GOOD-BYE!

Michael Sheil

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1994

Obituary

Edmond Murphy SJ

Prefect of Studies 1965-7

If only to jog the memories of those past pupils who knew Fr Eddie I shall begin my small tribute by putting him into his proper context in Gonzaga history.

He came to Gonzaga in the August of 1965 to assume the role of Prefect of Studies (the title 'Headmaster' had not yet arrived) in succession to Fr Bill White who was kicked upstairs to be the Rector in place of Fr John Hughes. He came to us after fifteen very successful years as Prefect of Studies of the Junior School in Belvedere and, when he departed again in 1967, he was sucked back once more into the life of that college, where he remained a superb teacher of English and French until the years caught up on him. He was succeeded in Gonzaga by Fr Paul Andrews.
His two years among us were significant in many ways. Apart from his own substantial contribution to the academic life of the college, these were years when the lay staff included such notable personalities as Cathal O'Gara, Ray Kearns, John Wilson, Tom O'Dea and Edmundo Volpi, while among the Jesuits on active service in the classroom were Fr Joe Veale, Fr Joe Kavanagh, Fr Bill Lee, Fr Diarmuid O’Laoghaire, Fr John O'Leary, the two Fr Redmonds (Stephen and John), Fr Fred Cull, Fr (then ‘Mr') Michael Sheil, and myself.

His arrival in Gonzaga coincided with the erection of the great steel frame that was the skeleton of the present Boys' Chapel. 1966 was also the year when a large group of our senior boys marched in the 1916 Anniversary Schools' Procession to Croke Park, proudly carrying the tricolour and the school pennant, and the Proclamation was solemnly unveiled in the school theatre by Cathal Brugha, grandson of the 1916 leader, and read aloud by the captain, James O'Rourke. It was in this year too that Barry Bresnihan got his first call-up as centre-three-quarter against England at Twickenham.

Fr Eddie Murphy was a man of many parts. Limerick-born, he received his early education at the CBS in Sexton St, but did not enter the Society of Jesus immediately after his secondary schooling. Indeed, he had already attained the ripe age of 24 and had some two-and-a-half years' teaching in a national school behind him before he appeared on the steps of Emo Park to begin his noviceship. He then followed the normal course of Jesuit formation - two years' noviciate, three years attending UCD from Rathfarnham Castle and equipping himself with his BA and HDip in Ed, three years' philosophy in Tullabeg, a year's regency (i.e. teaching) in Belvedere, and four years' theology in Milltown Park, where he was ordained priest on 28 July 1948. Then began his long association with Belvedere, interrupted only by his short stint at Gonzaga.

A man of many parts, I said. Yes, a man who gave his full commitment to the task in hand and while with us he generously shared his gift for organisation, his pedagogical experience, his aptitude for making friends, his rich vein of humour, his understanding of youth, his wise counselling and encouragement, and all his other many talents. I have spoken to a number of past pupils who were in Gonzaga between 1965 and 1967 and I have found that they all remember him with affection, recognising a person who was efficient, helpful, kind and very fair. In his dealings with boys, especially seniors, there were no 'scenes’, no tirades. His own mature handling of situations seemed to call forth a reciprocal maturity. One past pupil reminded me of how he would visit a classroom and, having made whatever pronouncement the occasion required, he would move towards the door, but then, as if an afterthought, deliver himself of an exit line in the form of an apt quotation, not infrequently in Latin.

Thinking of Fr Eddie there comes naturally to my mind the passage from Goldsmith's The Deserted Village:

A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant new;
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frowned;
Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.

Yes, he was, perhaps, a trifle ‘stern to view'. His fiery top contributed somewhat to this image, and I recall now the remark of a colleague who one day caught him in a pensive mood, in a pose that had him glaring at his fingernails “as if he were daring his fingers to answer back'. In memory's eye I see him with those same fingers poised menacingly over the keyboard of a piano, an instrument he always played fortissimo and, at times, agitato: I see him with his head thrust forward like a turtle's, his nose almost pressed against the sheet of music because of his short-sightedness. He was no mean musician and among his compositions is a String Quartet which had its premiere in Belvedere.

But then, I suppose, anyone who takes on the job of Prefect of Studies must make an effort to look a bit severe, and his pupils may see only one aspect of him. As one who shared his student days and had him as a friend and colleague in Gonzaga, I can assure all who served under him that Fr Eddie was a man of infinite wit, with a loud and infectious laugh, and he was a great swopper of stories - 'for many a joke had he'.

Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,
The love he bore for learning was in fault.

Fr Eddie was a learned man with a deep love of learning. Most of his time in Belvedere he taught English and some French, but also spoke Irish fluently. In any language he was a purist and perfectionist and was steeped in semantics. As a former Classics teacher I like to think that this derived from his profound knowledge of Latin, and here I might add that among his works was a translation of the Memoriale of Br Peter Faber SJ commissioned by the Jesuit Resources Institute in the USA. For many a year he accompanied a group of Belvedere boys to Stratford-on-Avon, and so became known to many Gonzagians who shared this experience with the sister college.

While in Gonzaga he gave no evidence of athletic prowess; he was far more at home with dusty volumes than muddy fields. Yet I remember him as a faithful follower of this College's fortunes when the Cup matches got under way. One picture I relish of him was the occasion when he had been persuaded to take bat in hand for some cricket match - it may have been Staff versus Boys, I don't rightly remember. Anyway I see him now, caparisoned in minuscule pads, standing uncertainly at the wicket and peering suspiciously towards the other end as if there was a Curtly Ambrose lurking to deliver a lethal ball.

As he neared his four-score years his health collapsed and the dimming of an already weak sight must have been a great frustration to one for whom books and learning were such nourishment. His final period on earth was spent in a nursing home where he gradually loosened his grip on this world and began to breathe the airs of eternity. He passed away quietly on 20 January 1994, aged eighty-one.

May his gentle soul rest contentedly today in the happiness of God's home.

Edmund Keane SJ

Murphy, John E, 1914-1986, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/265
  • Person
  • 06 February 1914-23 September 1986

Born: 06 February 1914, Donabate, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1932, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1945, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1948, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 23 September 1986, St Vincent's Private Hosptial, Herbert Avenue, Dublin

Part of St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin.
Brother of Dermot - RIP 1979

◆ Companions in Mission 1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Note from Dermot Murphy Entry
His brother John, also a Jesuit, was with him when he died. When John arrived, Dermot was in a coma. John wrote, ‘He (Dermot) did not give any sign of recognition but I had the uncanny feeling that he knew I was there’.

◆ Irish Province News 61st Year No 4 1986 & ◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1987

Obituary

Fr John Murphy (1914-1932-1986)
4th February 1914: born. Schooled at Belvedere. 7th September 1932: entered SJ. 1932-34 Emo, noviciate. 1934-37 Rathfarnham, juniorate. 1937-40 Tullabeg, philosophy. 1940-42 Clongowes, regency. 1942-46 Milltown, theology (31st July 1945: ordained a priest). 1946-47 Rathfarnham, tertianship.
1947-50 Clongowes, teaching. 1950-54 Gonzaga, minister, teaching,
1954-58 Gardiner Street, pastoral work. 1958-69 Loyola: 1958-60 mission and retreat staff; 1960-69 promoter, Apostleship of Prayer; 1962-73 promoter, Eucharistic Crusade; 1966-69 Superior. 1969-83 Gardiner Street: 1969-74 Superior; 1970-81 director, SFX social service centre; 1982-86 executive member, Catholic Social Service Conference.
1983-86 Leeson Street chaplain to St Anne's cancer hospital. 23rd September 1986: died.

In attempting to describe Fr John Murphy's life, it's hard to know where exactly to start or what precisely to stress. For one reason he had so many genuine interests, and for another, the Lord blessed him with so many fine gifts. A younger brother of his, Dermot († 1979), also became a Jesuit priest, and worked in Ireland and Zambia before ill-health and doctor's orders forced him to live in a different setting. Their only sister became a Dominican nun and worked in Africa. In later life, when John became chaplain to the Dominican sisters in Eccles street (near Gardiner Street), this family link made his job a labour of love.
John was a Jesuit for 54 years of his life, and before he became one, as a schoolboy in Belvedere was in contact with the Society. We were impressed by his outstanding qualities as a good priest and a marvellous “community man”. As he met all sorts of people, one assumes that many were attracted by his sense of humour and admired his sound judgement and his unique planning ability. His mind seemed permanently working at full stretch, always one if not two steps ahead of every one else's.
John spent nine years teaching at Clongowes and Gonzaga, and an excellent teacher he was. For many more years, as Irish national director of the Apostleship of Prayer's Eucharistic Crusade, he had a wide-ranging influence on young people. All this was grist to his mill, adding to a store of knowledge and experience to be used later.
Perhaps his most fruitful years were the eighteen which he spent at St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street, where his various interests were aired and often put into execution. John was indeed a "man for others'. The parish social service centre, a few yards from St Francis Xavier's, was his brain-child, and it brought him into close contact with the Irish Sisters of Charity.
As the years passed, his horizons widened. The Catholic Social Service Conference, with its city-wide organisation, brought him into friendly association with Bishop Kavanagh, and later with Bishop Desmond Williams. For both bishops he had an immense regard, and was glad of support and very proud of their friendship.
Not many people knew of John's great interest in St Vincent's Centre for industrial training, run by the Daughters of Charity. He spent many hours planning and praying for the success of this venture. (More about it in IPN, Oct. 1983, p. 377.) The House-a-marriage (HAM) project, which aims at providing flats for newly-weds, took up much of John's time. He greatly admired that band of businessmen who gave so generously of their time, energy, expertise, advice and enthusiasm in an apostolate so appealing to any christian-minded Dubliner. (More about HAM in his Maker. IPN, Oct. '84, p. 103.)
In 1983 John arranged that he should be chaplain to St Anne's hospital, Northbrook Road, off Leeson park: an institution run by the Daughters of Charity for patients with cancer or skin disorders. He was greatly impressed by the hospital staff and interested in his work as chaplain, which gave him an opportunity of meeting terminally-ill patients. By a strange coincidence he had somehow been attracted for some years to this type of work. Man proposes but God disposes. John gradually learned the truth that his own days were numbered. He acquired the gift of speaking to patients with delicate sympathy and at the same time with strong conviction and sincerity. It's not surprising that he became a founder-member of the Bethany Support Group - an organisation one of whose aims is to help the terminally ill. (More about this in IPN, Apr. '86, p. 250)
In the Gospel, Christ blessed Martha and Mary, so that they became great friends of his. John was blessed with marvellous friends, especially one family who nursed him with loving care both in Galway and in Dublin till shortly before his death: may the good Lord reward them for their kindness.
John loved his fortnight's holiday each summer. Of late years he stayed in their west Cork house, where he relaxed and talked to his heart's content about the things that mattered. One fine sunny day last July, while sailing in Bantry bay off Whiddy island, gazing at sea and mountains, with a smile on his face he said quietly to the present author, “This is like heaven”. He felt drawn nearer to the God he loved and served so well.
There is an old Persian proverb which says that life is summed up in four that words: Men live, men die. Fr John Murphy lived life to the full with enthusiasm, zest and idealism, and - more importantly - was prepared with courage, trust and contentment to meet his Maker.

Nolan, Patrick, 1904-1967, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/306
  • Person
  • 23 September 1904-25 March 1967

Born: 23 September 1904, Dublin City
Entered: 12 November 1924, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Final Vows: 02 February 1935, Clongowes Wood College SJ, County Kildare
Died: 25 March 1967, Gonzaga College, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 42nd Year No 3 1967
Obituary :

Br Patrick Nolan SJ (1905-1967)

Br. Patrick Nolan was born in Dublin on 23rd September 1905 He received his early education at the National School, Haddington Road, and then went on to the Christian Brothers at Westland Row. A young boy at the time of the 1916 Rising, he could give you a pretty full account of the doings around Mount Street Bridge, and the Haddington Road area in general. He came to have strong views on the political upheaval of those times, but it was always interesting to hear him relate his experiences of his childhood in Dublin. For five years, 1919-24, he was an apprentice in the business of Messrs P. Conway & Co., Exchequer Street, Dublin. He entered the Society on 1st May 1924 at Tullabeg. After his First Vows he remained on at Tullabeg as Manuductor from 1928-31. He was then sent as cook to Clongowes Wood where he had a long spell, from 1931-45. These included the war years which was a very trying time for anybody grappling with the problems of fuel and food, and hungry boys.
We next find him at the Crescent College, Limerick, where he was cook and dispenser from 1945-52. His next appointment took him to St. Ignatius' College, Galway, where he was cook, dispenser, and in charge of staff from 1952-60.
In 1960 he went to Gonzaga College, where was cook and in charge of staff until his death on 25th March 1967.
What most struck one about Br. Patrick was probably his versatility. He had a very enquiring mind and many interests. Dealing with the domestic staff can be a very frustrating experience. He had long years of it. It must be very disheartening to take a boy who knows nothing, train him as a cook for several years, then watch him move on to a higher paid job, and begin all over again with somebody else. This is a regular pattern in our houses. To his great credit Br. Patrick never tried to hold a domestic staff member by any argument of gratitude. He liked to see them move on to a job where they could afford to marry and settle down to a normal life.
In spite of the time-consuming nature of his job. Br. Patrick managed to cultivate side-lines. He got interested in music, and was quite capable of re-stringing a broken-down piano if need be. He had a real appreciation of classical music. Of late years he became interested in the repair of broken-down radios. He became quite an expert in this field. He often regretted the lack of technical training which forced on him a hit-and-miss method. But it is really remarkable how expert he became in the field. He was extremely intelligent and would have profited greatly from a wider education followed by technical training. One can only rejoice in the long overdue re-appraisal of the vocation of the Brothers which the Society has recently undertaken. In a rejuvenated Society with full education and proper technical training of the Brothers, one feels that Br. Nolan would have contributed outstanding service to the Society and the Church. On one issue he became rather unbalanced. He had no love for the “sons of Israel” and was inclined to see them as sinister figures behind most modern social movements. One learned to keep off the subject with him. But he could be a very pleasant companion, was a good religious, and under the most trying circumstances no community in which he worked ever saw the Minister put up a notice saying : “No dinner today”. Do we all take this simple daily routine of our meals too much for granted?
Br. Patrick had not been very well for some years. He suffered a good deal from nervous tension and exhaustion. But he learned to live with it, and carried on his full day's work. His death came as a great shock. And there is many a poor person outside the Society who will miss his cheerful arrival to fix up a radio or T.V. that has broken down. May he rest in peace.

Ó Laoghaire, Diarmuid M, 1915-2001, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/639
  • Person
  • 01 August 1915-21 July 2001

Born: 01 August 1915, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1933, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1948, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1951, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 21 July 2001, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

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

by 1944 at St Mary’s College, Aberystwyth, Wales (ANG) studying
Editor of An Timire, 1971-1997.

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Ó Laoghaire, Diarmuid
by Brian Mac Cuarta

Ó Laoghaire, Diarmuid (1915–2001), writer and lecturer on Celtic spirituality, and Irish-language enthusiast, was born 1 August 1915 in Dublin, one of three children of Michael O'Leary from Doneraile, Co. Cork, and Mary O'Leary (née Flood), from Co. Meath; his father was manager of McBirney's department store on Aston Quay, Dublin. Brought up in Glasnevin and educated at Holy Faith convent school and Belvedere College (where he acquired a lifelong interest in cricket), he joined the Jesuits on leaving school in 1933.

Under the influence of his Irish teacher at Belvedere, the layman Tadhg Ó Murchadha, Diarmuid's interest in the language developed. He took Celtic studies at UCD, gaining an MA (1939) for a thesis on ‘Eochair-sgiath an Aifrinn’, a text on the mass by the seventeenth-century priest Geoffrey Keating (qv). He was awarded the NUI travelling studentship in Celtic studies. Because of the war, the British Museum manuscripts had been moved to Aberystwyth, Wales; at the suggestion of Robin Flower (qv), it was there that Ó Laoghaire pursued further research. Ordained in 1948, in the 1950s he was responsible for the Jesuit students in Rathfarnham Castle, while engaged in research, writing, and work with the Irish-language community. Prefect of studies at Belvedere (1960–62), he taught Irish at Gonzaga (1962–77), and thereafter was a member of the Jesuit community, Milltown Park. He was awarded an NUI Ph.D. from UCD in 1967 for a thesis on the lives of the saints, in Irish, in the medieval period. This research led to scholarly publications in Celtica, xxi (1990), 487–522, and a critical edition of ‘The Liber Flavus Fergusiorum infancy narrative’ (M. McNamara et al., Apocrypha Hiberniae (Turnhout, 2001), 142–245).

As well as speaking immaculate Irish, and fluent in French and Breton, he was well known throughout Wales, for he talked regularly on Welsh radio, and appeared on Welsh television. He translated a collection of short stories from the best modern Welsh authors into Irish (Glór ár nGaolta: Rogha scéalta na linne seo ón mBreatnais (1992)). For his abilities in Welsh he was made a member of the Gorsedd of bards in the Eisteddfod, the Welsh cultural festival; he preached in Welsh on occasions. His wide knowledge both of the spiritual texts and of the history and contemporary situation of the Celtic languages made him a respected authority on the Christian heritage of the Celtic world. On this topic he lectured in Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology, Dublin, and elsewhere. His Milltown Institute colleagues honoured him with a Festschrift (Mac Conmara agus Ní Thiarnaigh (eag.), Cothú an Dúchais (1997)), which included contributions from scholars in Wales, France, and Ireland. His academic, linguistic, and cultural interests were deeply integrated into his personal faith and his sense of mission as member of an apostolic order.

He was dedicated to exploring and fostering the link between Christian faith and Gaelic culture. Along with his more strictly scholarly interests, he devoted much time and energy to supporting and enriching the faith of the Irish-speaking community. This project was greatly energised by the change from Latin to the vernacular in the liturgy of the catholic church after the second Vatican council (1962–5). He rendered long and faithful service to a wide variety of groups, including Cumann na Sagart, Conradh na Gaeilge, An tOireachtas, Pobal an Aifrinn, An Chuallacht, Scoil Ghaelach Bhrí Chualann, and especially An Réalt, the Irish-language section of the Legion of Mary. In recognition of his services to Irish-language groups he was awarded Gradam an Phiarsaigh (the Pearse award) in 1992.

As editor of FÁS (Foilseacháin Ábhair Spioradálta, publisher of religious material in Irish), and through translations and other writings, Ó Laoghaire was one of those who ensured that a relatively varied spiritual and liturgical literature is available in Irish. Long a contributor, he was editor of An Timire (1972–97), the Irish-language devotional magazine founded by the Jesuits in 1911. A major contribution to the study of popular spirituality was his collection of prayers from the Gaelic oral tradition of Ireland and Scotland, Ár bPaidreacha Dúchais (1975), a book which has run into four editions. He died 21 July 2001 in Dublin. A catalogued bibliography of his books and pamphlets is in Milltown Park Library, Dublin.

R. Ó Glaisne, ‘Diarmuid Ó Laoghaire’, M. Mac Conmara agus E. Ní Thiarnaigh (eag.), Cothú an Dúchais (1997), 11–51

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 51st Year No 4 1976

Gonzaga
Many will have seen on the front page of the Universe (August 13th) the large photo of Fr D Ó Laoghaire swathed in the green robes of a Welsh Bard: he had recently been honoured by initiation into the Gorsedd of Bards during the National Eisteddfod of Wales at Cardigan, which he was also at tending as official delegate of the Oireachtas. An article by Nodlaig McCarthy in The Irish Times (August 24th) describes the event and expresses surprise that while “the fact that the honour was given in the 800th anniversary year to an Irish Catholic (sic) Jesuit aroused considerable media interest on the other side ... the only picture to appear in an Irish daily paper after the event was one of the Welsh rugby player, Gareth Edwards, who was also honoured on this occasion”. Fr Ó Laoghaire set off on August 28th to attend the Oireachtas Festival at Cois Fharraige, Connemara.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 112 : Special Edition 2002

Obituary

Fr Diarmuid Ó Laoghaire (1915-2001)

1st Aug. 1915: Born in Dublin
Early education in Holy Faith, Glasnevin, and Belvedere College.
7th Sept. 1933: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1935: First Vows at Emo
1935 - 1939: Rathfarnham - Arts (Celtic Studies) at UCD
1939 - 1942: Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1942 - 1945: Alberystwyth - Doctorate in Celtic Studies (Ph.D. UCD 1967)
1945 - 1949: Milltown Park - Studying Theology
28th July 1948: Ordained at Milltown Park
1949 - 1950: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1950 - 1960: Rathfarnham Castle - Minister of Juniors.
2nd Feb. 1951: Final Vows at Milltown Park
1960 - 1962: Belvedere College - Prefect of Studies.
1962 - 1977: Gonzaga College - Teacher; Writer; studying Celtic Literature and Spirituality
1977 - 2001: Milltown Park - Visiting Lecturer at Institute; Editor An Timire; Studying Celtic Literature and Spirituality
1997 - 2001: Cherryfield Lodge - Studying Celtic Literature & Spirituality; Praying for Church and the Society
21st July 2001: Died in St. Vincent's Private Hospital, Dublin.

In 1997, Fr. Diarmuid's mobility was decreasing, and, as he needed assistance to walk, he took up residence in Cherryfield, where, even though wheelchair-bound, he was able to continue his many works dealing with Celtic literature and Spirituality. For as long as possible, he went to Milltown weekly for lunch. He passed away peacefully as he approached his 86th birthday.

Stephen Redmund writes....
I first got to know Diarmuid when I went to Milltown for Theology in 1947, in our “pilgrimage” to seven altars of repose on Holy Thursday in the pre-liturgical reform tradition, and as a guest at his first (or second?) Mass in the Holy Faith Convent in Finglas, and at the reception in his uncle's rambling “period house” nearby.

Many years later, we met again in Gonzaga, where he gently and devotedly represented an cultúr Gaelach (something far more than grammar and a few texts) to the boys. And, to their bafflement and delight, he revealed himself as a star batsman in “the English game”. I suspect that he counted the runs as Gaeilge.

Behind the gentleness and civility there was a passion for an Gaeleachas; he saw it as, in large measure, a vehicle, an expression of the faith. I think that, while he may have had reservations about the post-Vatican 2 liturgy, he was happy that it allowed him to celebrate Mass in the language of Ó Rathaille, Ó Clery, Keating, Ó Donnell, and Ó Brolcháin. He lived just long enough to see some resurgence of Gaeleachas in the religious celebrations for the millennium.

In 1966, Nelson's Pillar was very professionally and 'neatly' blown up. It was thought that Breton nationalists were involved. The Gonzaga community enjoyably indulged the rumour that Diarmuid knew them, or knew of them, from his pan-Celtic interests. Was it possible that our quiet scholar had such revolutionary contacts? For a while we looked at him as, I imagine, English Jesuits looked at Henry Garnet at the time of the Gunpowder Plot.

In 1968, I provided a mild sensation myself, by getting a song with an Irish lyric (Gleann na Smól) as far as the final of the National Song Contest. I like to think that Diarmuid was pleased that such a song came from a confrere of his. Did I show the text to him? My memory stickers. I do recall bringing him subsequent efforts produced with much page-flipping of Dinneen's Dictionary, since my Irish was not that good. He would shake his head sadly over this word or that ("Sorry, obsolete since the 17th century!"), or unpedantically concede me poetic licence.

He had a great sense of humour, at times directed against himself. For instance, the story about his visit to the doctor prior to his joining the Society, when the doctor asked him euphemistically had he passed water recently, and he replied that he had just passed over the canal. No great lover of British influence in Ireland, he must have enjoyed the irony of being a one-night guest of his Britannic Majesty's police in an Oxford air-raid shelter during the war, when he couldn't get into Campion Hall.

His most influential publication was his remarkable anthology, Ár bPaidreacha Dúchais. His introduction to this is a striking testimony to his Gaeleachas-articulated faith; one might call it a spiritual testament. When I asked his permission regarding publication by Veritas of my translations of fifty Dúchas prayers (Prayers of Two Peoples), he was graciousness itself. My last conversation with him was on the phone in connection with my hope that Veritas would publish sixty more of the prayers in translation. If they do, the book will be dedicated i gcuimhne dil chara agus sár-saoi an Ghaelachais.

Let me conclude by quoting one of his past pupils, Simon White, in a letter of condolence to Paul Andrews:

“My grasp of Irish was not good. I was aware of his efforts to help me....I never remember him being cross with me and he always displayed kindness....I count myself very privileged to have been able to share, as an altar boy, many early morning Masses alone with him. This was very special. He was one of nature's purest gentlemen. He had such a kind smiling way about him. Finding you were on the roster to serve his Mass guaranteed you a happy week.

He spoke Irish to all the other boys who could banter with him, and they enjoyed it...I was eternally grateful that he always spoke to me in English and made me feel at ease. His humour was, like himself, gentle and as sharp as steel....basically he was a lovely, lovely, man...I have never been able to satisfactorily unravel the meaning of the expression, Go neirí an bóthar leat. But I think it is a fond farewell one can wish him with confidence - that the road leads somewhere very special”.

-oOo-

Brian Mac Cuarta wrote in An Timire.... : Translation by Brian Grogan

Diarmuid O Laoghaire SJ died on July 21. He was a writer and lecturer on Irish spirituality, and active in the world of Irish for almost seventy years. Born in Dublin, he received his primary education in the Holy Faith School in Glasnevin and then in Scoil Phadraig, Drumcondra. He admits that he had no interest in or respect for Irish before his sixth year in Belvedere. He had an abiding memory of a moment in fifth class in Scoil Phadraig, when his teacher, Mr O Sithigh, son of the renowned footballer John Joe Sheehy, tired of young Diarmuid’s indifference, said jokingly, “O'Leary, you'll be the Professor of Irish in Trinity College some day if you're not careful!”

Everything changed when he met with a Belvedere teacher named Tadhg Ó Murchadha, who awoke in his heart a love for Irish language and culture which lasted till the day he died. Influenced by his teacher he founded a Cumann Gaelach in Belvedere. He entered the Jesuits in 1933 and was awarded an MA in Celtic Studies in UCD in 1939. His thesis emerged from a text on the Mass by Séathrún Céitinn (c1580-c1644), and won him an NUI Travelling Scholarship. Because of the Second World War the British Museum’s Celtic manuscripts were moved to the University of Wales in Aberystwyth, and on the advice of Robin Flower Diarmuid went there to study the lives of medieval saints written in Irish. He won his PhD in UCD in 1967. Many were his scholarly writings, and Celtic scholars from far and near knew and appreciated him.

He always said that Fr Donnchadh Ó Floinn influenced his thought deeply. Fr Donnchadh gave priority to faith over language but acknowledged the depth of faith in the minds of Irish speakers. This insight encouraged Diarmuid and gave focus to his life and work.

Diarmuid was one of a very few who were proficient in Irish, Welsh and Breton. He regularly attended the Welsh Eisteddfodd (Assembly), and was honored with the award of Draoi (Druid). He was interviewed often on Welsh TV. He lectured on Irish spirituality in Milltown Institute in Dublin and was Editor of An Timire from 1977-1998, and of FÁS - Foilseacháin Ábhar Spioradálta: in this post he edited many spiritual books. He gathered many popular prayers into Ar bPaidreacha Dúchais, which went into four editions. The devotion of our ancestors to the Mass is revealed in his pamphlet Our Mass Our Life.

Diarmuid was a member of the group who helped to advance Irish liturgy after the Second Vatican Council (1965). He played an active part in the life of Irish speakers as a member of organizations which included Cumann na Sagart, Conradh na Gaeilge, An Réalt, Cuallacht Mhuire, Pobal an Aifrinn. He regularly served on the Oireachtas, on the Irish-speaking pilgrimage to Knock, and on other Gaelic events. In his latter years he used go on vacation to Gort a'Choirce, in Donegal.

In1997 when he could no longer walk without help, he had to go to Cherryfield Lodge, where he continued to work until his sight failed him. It was heart-breaking for a man so at home in books to be able to read no longer, but he bore this loss gracefully and patiently. In his final year he tried to write a small prayer: It was illegible, but illustrates how he was thinking: ‘The prayer of a good Christian on their death-bed’.

-oOo-

Brian also wrote for the Irish Times of August 8th, 2001....

Writer and lecturer on Celtic spirituality and Irish language enthusiast, Father Diarmuid Ó Laoghaire died on July 21s aged 85. Born in Dublin on August 15, 1915, he was one of three children of Michael O'Leary, from Doneraile, Co. Cork, and his wife Mary (née Flood), from Co. Meath; his father was manager of McBimney's department store in Dublin, Brought up in Glasnevin, he was educated at Holy Faith Convent School and Belvedere Coilege, where he played cricket and acquired a life-long interest in the game.

Under the influence of his Irish teacher at Belvedere, Tadhg Ó Murchadha, his interest in the language developed. He took Celtic Studies at UCD, gaining an MA in 1939 for his thesis on a religious text by the 17th century author, Geoffery Keating, research which has been incorporated into the standard biography of Keating. He was awarded the NUI Travelling Studentship in Celtic Studies and subsequently pursued further research at Aberystwyth, where the British Library manuscripts had been moved because of the war.

He joined the Jesuits in 1933 and was ordained in 1948. During the 1950s he was responsible for the Jesuit students in Rathfarnham Castle, while still engaged in research, writing, and work with the Irish-language community. He was prefect of studies at Belvedere from 1960-62, and taught Irish at Gonzaga from 1962-77. Thereafter he was a member of the Jesuit community, Milltown Park. He was awarded a PhD from UCD in 1967 for a thesis in Irish on the lives of the saints in the medieval period, a topic which exposed him to the Irish contribution to Christianity in Europe at that time.

As well as speaking Irish, he was fluent in French and Breton, and was well known throughout Wales, where he talked regularly on radio, and appeared on television. He also preached in Welsh on occasions. He translated a collection of short stories from some of the best modern Welsh authors into Irish. For his contributions in Welsh he was made a member of Gorsedd, or bard, in the Eisteddfod, an honour which is bestowed on merit. As a lecturer both in Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology, Dublin, and in many other settings, he shared his gifts with others. His Milltown Institute colleagues honoured him with a Festschrift, Cothú an Dúchais (1997), which included contributions from scholars in Wales, France and Ireland.

A gentle, gracious and convivial man, Father Ó Laoghaire preferred to speak in Irish, but changed without demur to English as the company required. He could be droll, enjoying a story told against himself, together with his friend and confrère Father Séamus MacAmhlaoibh he used travel the country to Irish-language gatherings. He was dedicated to exploring and fostering the link between religious faith and Gaelic culture. Along with his more strictly scholarly interests, he devoted much time and energy to supporting and enriching the faith of the Irish-speaking community. This project was greatly energised by the change from Latin to the vernacular in the liturgy of the Catholic Church after the Second Vatican Council (1962-65).

He gave long service to a wide variety of groups, including Cumann na Sagart, Conradh na Gaeilge, An tOireachtas , Pobal an Aifrinn, An Chuallacht, Scoil Ghaelach Bhrí Chualann, and especially An Réalt, the Irish-language section of the Legion of Mary. In recognition of his services to Irish language groups he was awarded Gradam an Phiarsaigh in 1992. As editor of Foilseacháin Ábhair Spioradálta and through translations and other writings, he was one of those who ensured that a relatively varied spiritual and liturgical literature of Catholic provenance is available in Irish.

Long time a contributor to An Timire (the Irish-language devotional magazine founded by the Jesuits in 1911), he was also editor from 1972-1997. His collection of prayers from the Gaelic oral tradition of Ireland and Scotland, Ár bPaidreacha Dúchais (1975), was a major contribution to the study of popular spirituality. The book has run into four editions. His last scholarly publication, a critical edition of an apocryphal life of Mary from an Irish 15th century text, will be published in Belgium in the Corpus Christianorum series.

O'Brien, Kennedy P, 1956-2018, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/810
  • Person
  • 11 October 1956-07 January 2018

Born: 11 October 1956, Oughterard, County Galway
Entered: 04 October 1975, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Ordained: 20 June 1987, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Final Vows: 24 January 1996, St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin
Died: 07 January 2018, Gonzaga College SJ, Ranelagh, Dublin

by 1980 at Osterley, London (BRI) working
by 1981 at Manresa, Birmingham, England (BRI) studying)
BY 1988 at Cambridge MA, USA (NEN) studying

1977-1979 John Sullivan House, Monkstown - Studying Philosophy at Milltown Institute
1979-1980 Isleworth, London, UK - Residential Care work at Lillie Road Centre
1980-1982 Manresa House, Harbourne, Birmingham, UK - Studying Youth and Community Work at Westhill College
1982-1984 Coláiste Iognáid, Galway - Regency : Teacher
1984-1986 Luís Espinal - Studying Theology at Milltown Institute
1986-1987 Rutilio Grande - Studying Theology at Milltown Institute
1987-1988 Avon St, Cambridge, MA, USA - Studying Theology at Weston School of Theology
1988-1993 Coláiste Iognáid, Galway - Teacher; Chaplain; Subminister; Pastoral Care Co-ordinator; Studying H Dip in Education at UCG (88-89)
1989 President “An Club Rámhaoicht”
1993-1994 Belfast - Tertianship
1994-2001 Belvedere College SJ - Minister; Chaplain; Pastoral Care; Teacher; Social Integration Committee; Cherryfield Board
1995 Vocations Promotion Team
1996 Vice-Principal Junior School
1998 Pastoral Care Co-ordinator
2001-2018 Gonzaga College SJ - Minister; Teacher; College Spiritual Father

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/god-love-kennedys-mantra/

‘God is love’ – Kennedy’s mantra
The Funeral Mass of Kennedy O’Brien SJ took place at the Church of the Holy Name, Ranelagh, on Saturday 13 January before a packed congregation, with crowds outside in the cold. A native of Galway, Kennedy (aged 61) devoted his Jesuit life to teaching.
Mourners at the Mass included a large number of students from Gonzaga College SJ, where the Kennedy taught English and served as chaplain and retreat leader. The College choir provided the music, and a number of students removed the pall from the coffin. Irish Provincial, Leonard Moloney SJ, was the main celebrant.
At the end of a traumatic week for Gonzaga (with the deaths of both Kennedy and his fellow-Jesuit Joe Brennan, who had taught in the college for many years), Principal Mr Damon McCaul spoke at the Mass. “For me personally, he [Kennedy] was a friend, a confidant, a sounding board. What I really appreciated – and Kennedy was good at this – was being told when he thought things could be done better, or differently. In that, Kennedy was the embodiment of Magis [the Jesuit principle of more or greater]... a half job was never enough.”
With good humour, Mr McCaul reminded the congregation of Kennedy’s initial reluctance to come to Gonzaga. He taught in his alma mater, Coláiste Iognáid, in Galway and in Belvedere College in Dublin beforehand. However, he said of Kennedy: “He went where the need was greatest; he threw all of himself into Gonzaga, to such an extent that he loved it in spite of himself”. He then expressed his gratitude for the care and support the school had been given in recent days. Mr McCaul finished by asking the Gonzaga students to join him in reciting Kennedy’s favourite Gospel message, one he used to repeat at every College Mass: “God is love. Whoever lives in love, lives in God, and God in him or her”. Kennedy had a wide range of hobbies and interests, including heraldry, gardening, rowing, cricket and the poetry of G M Hopkins. His popularity and regard as a priest was attested to by the number of weddings, baptisms and funerals at which he was asked to officiate. He was buried at Glasnevin Cemetery following the Funeral Mass.

O'Connell, Patrick L, 1920-1997, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/533
  • Person
  • 07 September 1920-11 February 1997

Born: 07 September 1920, Galway City, County Galway
Entered: 07 September 1938, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 08 September 1951, Heythrop College, Oxford, England
Final Vows: 02 February 1956, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 11 February 1997, St Vincent’s Hospital Dublin

Part of the Manresa, Dollymount, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1949 at Heythrop, Oxfordshire (ANG) studying
by 1963 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying
by 1972 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 92 : August 1996

Obituary

Fr Patrick (Paddy) O’Connell (1920-1997)

7th Sept. 1920: Born in Galway.
Early education: Presentation Brothers, Cork and Belvedere College
7th Sept. 1938: Entered the Society at Emo
1940 - 1944: Rathfarnham, studied Classics at UCD
1944 - 1947: Tullabeg, studied Philosophy
1947 - 1948: Belvedere College, Regency
1948 - 1952: Heythrop College, studied Theology
8th Sept. 1951: Ordained at Heythrop College
1952 - 1953: Rathfarnham, Tertianship
1953 - 1955: Gonzaga College, teaching
1955 - 1961: Milltown Park, teaching Dogma and Church History
1961 - 1963: Rome, Oriental Inst., Study : Oriental Church History
1963 - 1967; Milltown Park, Prof. Fundamental Theology
1967 - 1970: Rome, Gregorian - (Apr - Oct)
1970 - 1971: Sabbatical year
1971 - 1972: Milltown Park (Sem 1), Rome (Sem 2)
1973 - 1974: Rome: Dean, Faculty of Oriental Theology and Superior of the Community
1974 - 1984: Leeson St. - Editor of “Studies”
1984 - 1997: Manresa: Curate, St. Gabriel's Parish

Fr. Paddy O'Connell was born in Galway on the 7th September 1920. His father, who was from Kerry, was a school inspector. He began his schooling with the Presentation Brothers, Cork and finished in Belvedere College. In 1938 on his eighteenth birthday he joined the Jesuits. After two years noviceship in Emo, near Portarlington, his long years of study began. Four years at UCD obtaining an MA in Latin and Greek, three years philosophy in Rahan, Co. Offaly and four years theology in England where he was ordained in 1951. In the early sixties he obtained a doctorate in Theology in Rome.

Fr. Paddy was at home among books of all kinds, but they were not his only love. He was keen on sport and current affairs. He was very much himself in the company of young people; what interested them interested him. For a number of years while teaching theology in Milltown Park he was the rugby trainer of Presentation College, Bray. Apart from teaching in the Milltown Institute, where he served as Dean of the Faculty of Theology, he also taught briefly in Belvedere and Gonzaga in Dublin and at the Oriental Institute in Rome where he was Rector in 1973-74. In the ten years before coming to St. Gabriel's he was editor of the Jesuit Review Studies. Up until recently he acted as censor of several Jesuit magazines. He learned to read quickly!

When Fr. Paddy was appointed to St. Gabriel's he lived for a while in Manresa before he had a house in the parish. However, he always remained a member of the Manresa community and had his dinner there a few days a week.

Of all the jobs he had as a priest the one that made him happiest was his time in St. Gabriel's. There is no giving without receiving. As he gave himself tirelessly to young and old, Fr. Paddy received encouragement and support for his life as a Jesuit priest. His Jesuit brothers wish to thank all of you in the parish who helped him find happiness in serving in the parish in his final twelve years.

His younger brother John was priest of the Dublin diocese and died ten years ago while parish priest of Brackenstown. Fr. Paddy is survived by his sisters, Nora in England and Maureen in Canada, and his many nieces and nephews and their families.

Ar dheis Dé ar a anam.

Charlie Davy

-oOo-

It is not a case of what can one say about Fr. O'Connell, rather one wonders what can one leave out when writing about him. He was such a “Complete Human Being” in every sense of the word and a wonderful Priest. He truly lived his vocation and gave 200% all of the time, never thinking of himself.

Academically he had reached great heights yet he was a very humble man. He loved his work in this parish and he loved the people and was always concerned for them. He took unto himself a lot of the worries and problems of those he served.

There was another side to Fr. O'Connnell. Yes he always had a smile and a greeting whenever he met you, he was most gracious. Then he would start joking and pulling the leg and all in good fun; he was the best of company. One of his favourite television programmes was Taggart, and when Taggart actor Mark McManus died, Fr. O'Connell celebrated a Mass for him. This was his way of saying “Thank You” for the hours of pleasure and relaxation he had received.

There are so many wonderful memories of Fr. O'Connell, but the one I will hold onto is seeing him on a sunny morning sitting on the concrete parapet under the portico outside the sacristy, the jacket open, a cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other and delighted to chat to anyone who happened to come along.

We have lost a good friend and a wonderful character but as followers of Christ we must rejoice for him now and thank the good Lord for giving us the privilege of knowing him. He died on the feast of our Lady of Lourdes. May he rest in peace.

Focus 2000 Group

-oOo-

Fr. Paddy has been our much loved Spiritual Director almost since he came to the Parish more than 12 years ago. During all that time members of the branch and all parishioners who wished to attend, had the spiritual benefit of the Mass which he offered and a short talk before the monthly meetings he attended.

At the monthly meetings we had the benefit of his advice, encouragement and help in the recruitment of new members for whom he was always on the look-out, all of which has helped to ensure that our branch remains vibrant.

Over the years he arranged a number of Sunday "Afternoons of Prayer" at the Little Sisters of the Poor Church in Sybil Hill and in the Parish Church. His care for the problems of members, especially sick members, was much appreciated.

Ar dheis De go raibh a ainm dilis.

St. Joseph's Young Priest Society

-oOo-

For several years now Fr. O'Connell has been holding a Bible Class on Tuesday nights and all who attended feel so privileged to have participated.
The members of this group wish to acknowledge the tremendous amount of work and preparation he put into it each week and how much we have all learned. It was all very informal but he made all
the readings come to life for us.

Not only will we miss our Bible studies but we will miss the grand finale of each session when he celebrated Mass for us and then provided a couple of large pavlovas with the tea!

Bible Study Group

-oOo-

The people of Dollymount Grove are grieving the loss of a Neighbour and Friend as well as their priest. Fr. O'Connell was a familair sight driving in and out, doing a wide U-turn to park in his usual spot, and God help anyone who got in the way! He was always ready to stop for à chat and knew everyone he met, down to their dislikes and failings, which he worked on to his advantage. But he also knew their good points and never missed an opportunity to offer praise and encouragement.

He was keen on gardening - especially watching other people - and was always quick to point out the weeds. He loved children and they returned his affection. He could not pass the boys playing football on the road without joining in, and indeed sadly he was seen out with then just a few short weeks ago.

Fr. O'Connell was welcomed in every house and brought consolation and comfort to the elderly and the lonely. He was new to parish work when he came to St. Gabriel's in 1983 and frequently became distresssed after being with people in their last hours. He never lost this emotion and could empathise with those in grief and sorrow. But he did not dwell on sadness for long and used his ability and will to force a smile and lift a heart in even the darkest situations

Auaimhneas siorai ar a anam uasal.

Dollymount Grove

-oOo-

Fr. O'Connell was one of us yet he was also a man apart. His deep knowledge of theology was coupled with a childlike innocence of expression. He brought the comfort of Christ to many, particularly those he visited at home. His rare gift of heart-warming laughter brightened our days.

No trained journalist could have lowered barriers of reserve more quickly. He became both friend and pastor. When our family suffered a bereavement Fr. O'Connell suffered too. Yet he made us aware that death is a new beginning, that there is joy in Heaven, Fr. O'Connell was the epitome of Christianity. He was Christlike.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

A Personal Tribute

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1997

Obituary

Father Patrick O’Connell SJ (OB 1938)

Paddy O'Connell arrived in Belvedere in September 1938. He had just finished his Inter Cert in another school, and joined us with the reputation of what we schoolboys called a “swot”. This meant that he would spend most of his time with his head in the books, and would consequently be somewhat anti-social. It was not long before we discovered how wrong we were. In no time he had got involved in all the extra-curricular activities, such as the Debating Society, the St Vincent de Paul Society, the Mission Society, and, of course, the rugby. He even made an abortive attempt to start a chess club. In about one month he must have learned the names of every boy in the school and he was so involved that one could have got the impression that he was a Belvederian of long standing. It was well known that he was a great reader and that he borrowed books from a number of city libraries. This fact tempted one of the boys to ask, “Paddy, is it true that you read four books before breakfast every morning?” With that O'Connell glint in the eye that we all came to know so well as time passed, he replied, “No. It is not true. I can only manage to read three”. I was told that on another occasion, when the same question was asked, Paddy replied, “Did you say read or write?” We all grew to like him as time passed, and when he pushed Gerry Victory into second place in his first house exam, we all believed that Paddy had achieved the impossible.

He was a lover of sport, and while rugby was new to him, he threw himself into the game with a gusto that was well-intentioned if some what lacking in finesse. He was a danger in the lineout, for as a schoolboy, he was a big boned second row forward, all elbows and knees, and one of his own team was just as likely to get a black eye as was one of the opponents. Coming off the field in Roscrea, I asked Seamus Henry, who was to captain the Senior team that won the Cup that year, what he thought of Paddy's performance in the lineout. He replied, briefly but tellingly, “Very effective, if somewhat unusual”. He carried his love of rugby right through his life and coached many school tearns, even when much involved in the academic life later on. Although gifted in many ways, he had no musical ability, even if he had a great love for it. He never made the school opera, but displayed a knowledge of Gilbert and Sullivan lore that put us budding thespians to shame.

In September 1938, six Belvederians arrived in the Jesuit novitiate in Emo, with two or more of our year to follow at a later date. It was like Belvedere being moved to the midlands. At school, Paddy had distinguished himself in Fr Charlie Byrne's Latin and Greek classes. We were not surprised when the Master of Novices asked Paddy to help some of the other novices whose training in the classics had been some what limited. During our time in Emo, Paddy told me that he envied his brother, John, who was a student in Clonliffe College and who eventually became a priest in the Dublin dioce şes. John would have ample scope to do what Paddy called “specifically priestly work” in a parish, while he, as a Jesuit, might have limited opportunities to do so. During the last assign ment of his life, his hopes of doing this type of pastoral work were granted.

As a Jesuit, he held many important posi tions. His love of books made him an auto matic choice for the post of Librarian in Jesuit communities. He was the editor of the Jesuit quarterly, Studies, and lectured in Milltown Park and Heythrop College, the Irish and English Jesuit theologates. While resident in Dublin, between his many postings abroad, he was of immense help to the victims of alco holism. His final assignment outside the country saw him occupy the position of Rector of the Oriental Institute in Rome.

His love of rugby brought him into contact with many schools, some run by Jesuits and some by other orders. While engaged in the study of theology at Heythrop before ordina tion, he did a little bit of coaching in his spare time, and even turned out and played with the local club, a thing that would not have been tol erated in Ireland at the time. But in spite of these contacts, he never lost his love for Belvedere. During the last decade of his life, when he was a curate in the parish of St Gabriel, Dollymount, he came in contact with many of his past pupils who lived in the area. They still regarded him as their old master and were grateful that he was always available to listen to their problems and rejoice in their suc cesses. These were the happiest years of his life and the close proximity of his fellow Jesuits in Manresa House was a special bonus that added much to that happiness.

Paddy was always an optimist, and when I visited him in hospital three days before his death, he assured me that he would be back working in the parish in about two weeks. But that was not to be. His death came as a great shock to his many friends, and to the parish ioners of St Gabriel's. One of thern, Raymond O’Driscoll, penned a tribute to him in verse, two lines. of which I will quote, for they epito mise the Paddy we all knew so well, and now so sadly miss. May he rest in peace.

"For thirteen years he served us; his labours never ceased,
A humble man, a learned man, a dedicated priest.”

KAL SJ

O'Conor, Charles D, 1906-1981, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/323
  • Person
  • 25 March 1906-02 November 1981

Born: 25 March 1906, Lisnagry, County Limerick
Entered: 01 September 1924, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1939, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1943, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 02 November 1981, Hazel Hall Nursing Home, Clane, County Kildare

Part of the Clongowes Wood College, Clane, Co Kildare community at the time of death

Father Provincial of the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus: 20 July 1959-1965

Early Education at CUS, Dublin and Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1938 at Petworth, Surrey (ANG) health

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Note from Arthur J Clarke Entry
Arthur took as his model and ideal his Master of Juniors, Fr Charles O'Conor Don, whose motto, ‘faithful always and everywhere’, Arthur took as his own.

Note from Tommie O’Meara Entry
One summer on villa (summer holidays), the local parish priest was invited to dinner and was being introduced to the scholastics, one of whom was Charles O'Conor-Don (a descendant of the last High King of Ireland). He was introduced as ‘This is the O’Conor-Don’, when Tommie immediately pipes up ‘I'm the O’Meara Tom’.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 18th Year No 2 1943

The O’Conor Don, Owen Phelim O’Conor who died at Glenageary Dublin, on 1st March, was the last lineal descendant, from father to son of Roderick O’Conor, last High King of Ireland, who resigned in the 12th century. He was the second son of the late Right Hon. Charles Owen O'Conor and succeeded to the title on the death of his elder brother, Denis, in 1917. The new holder of the title is our Fr. Charles O’Conor, Minister of Juniors at Rathfarnham, the only son of the late Mr. Charles O’Conor K.M., Lucan House Dublin, and nephew of the late holder. He is the first bearer of an hereditary Irish title to be a priest, and not until his death will the title go to the son or grandson of a cousin of Owen Phelim O’Conor. This gentleman, Mr. Charles William O’Conor was once M.P. for Sligo and now lives in Herefordshire.

Irish Province News 23rd Year No 1 1948

Frs. G. Casey and C. O'Conor represented the Province at the Solem Requiem Mass celebrated at Kikeel Church, Co. Down on 22nd January for the late Fr. John Sloan, S.J., of Patna Mission (Chicago Province) who perished in the Dakota crash outside Karachi on the night of 27th December. Fr. O'Conor was the Celebrant. A brief account of his career appears below.

Irish Province News 34th Year No 4 1959

GENERAL
On 20th July Fr. Charles O'Conor, former Rector of Gonzaga College was appointed Provincial in succession to Fr. Michael A. O’Grady. The best wishes of the Province are with the Provincial in his new office, and to Fr. O'Grady the Province offers its gratitude for his services during his Provincialate. He will be remembered, beyond doubt, above all for his outstanding kindness, under standing and sympathy. His great and quite genuine charm of manner made personal contact between him and his subjects easy. They could always feel that their position was understood even if it could not always be improved. And these qualities extended themselves outside the Society and won for Fr. O’Grady and for the Province the goodwill, esteem and affection of everyone with whom he came into contact.
When he became Provincial in 1953 Fr. O’Grady was faced with a task which demanded gifts of this high order, The period of office of his predecessor, Fr. T, Byrne, had been one of expansion after the war. It was for Fr. O’Grady to consolidate. He found himself with a number of new enterprises-the Catholic Workers' College, the Mission in Rhodesia, Gonzaga College - which he had to see firmly established. This involved, among other things, a heavy building programme. It has been his great achievement that he courageously carried through this programme, though the toll on his health was at times very great. Besides the buildings at Gonzaga and the Workers' College, there were the preparatory school at Belvedere, the Pioneer Hall, the extension to Manresa and the renovation of Loyola, Eglinton Road, which was purchased as a Provincial Residence in his term of office. That, in spite of the expenditure involved, the Province is in a sound financial position is a tribute to Fr. O'Grady's generous use of his great personal gifts and to his inexhaustible patience and zeal.
Other activities recently undertaken which received his wholehearted en couragement were the Missions to Britain and to the Irish workers in Britain, the work of teaching Christian Doctrine in the Technical Schools, and the Child Educational Centre, which was started in his Provincialate and was finally established in its new premises in Northumberland Road last year.
He visited both China and Northern Rhodesia, and it was largely through his tireless negotiation that a satisfactory status for the Rhodesian Mission was worked out and the Mission of Chikuni created. He also saw the expansion of the Mission to the Chinese in Malaya. In both Missions he supported extensive building schemes of which the most ambitious were the new Wah Yan College, Queen's Road, Hong Kong and the Teacher Training College, Chikuni. And for all this the Province is grateful to Fr. O’Grady.

Irish Province News 57th Year No 1 1982

Clongowes
The Clongowes Community and boys suffered a grievous loss by the death of Fr Charles O'Conor. (See obituary notices, pp. 152 ff.] No one who reads this brief account of the man will wonder why we, his community, feel his passing so keenly, and share with all the people in the immediate and remoter vicinity a profound sense of loss.
Charles excelled in love of his neighbour. He could not offend in word or deed; he could not say or think present and a Jesuit Roman Catholic anything uncharitable; he was always priest was very well received. The Rector already to oblige; he was a humble man and Headmaster attended the annual who never gave the faintest impression of dinner of the Munster Branch of the being superior in any sense. He was Clongowes Union (28th November). always a pleasant companion and Like all other post-primary schools, gravitated towards the less popular, less Clongowes opened late (14th/15th attractive of his fellows. He was deeply September) on ministerial instructions. respected and beloved by all his fellow scholastics.
One could write of his tireless activity his great patience with himself, especially during the last few years when his memory was failing very and was causing him humiliating trouble in conversation, and that same patience with the poor arriving at our door, many of whom were humbugs with made-up hard-luck stories that went on With all inside and outside he showed the same restraint and respect: he himself all unawares won the greatest reverence from all the people around. Even the boys, thoughtless though they seem, regarded him with great affection and respect; and boys are seldom deceived in their judgments of their masters or superiors.

Obituary

Fr Charles O’Conor (1906-1924-1981)

The present writer first met Fr Charlie in Tullabeg noviciate on 1st September 1924, in the days when an entry-list of 26 first-year novices was looked upon as quite normal. He and his family had made a great sacrifice by his following a religious vocation, as he was the last direct descendant of the third-last High King of Ireland. Turlough O’Conor. For the tiine, however, he was just one of us novices and went through all the noviceship experiments like the rest of us. Tall and ascetic-looking, but of rather frail physique, he took little part in team games, but was exceptionally good at tennis and very popular with everyone.
After the noviceship he went with the rest of his year to Rathfarnham and attended University College, Dublin, gaining there a BA degree with honours. for the next two years (1929-'31), still in Rathfarnham, he went on to gain an HDE and (something quite exceptional in those days) an MA in History. His dissertation was on Charles O’Conor of Belanagare, a distinguished ancestor of his who lived in Penal times. As a result of the two extra years in Rathfarnham, when his contemporaries had moved on to philosophy, Charlie was out of step with them for the rest of his scholastic career. After philosophical studies in Tullabeg, instead of teaching prefecting in the colleges, he returned to Rathfarnham and spent two more years there, assisting the Minister of Juniors and doing some teaching in the juniorate.
His theological studies in Milltown Park (1936-41) were interrupted by ill- health. At the end of his first year it was discovered that he had contracted tuberculosis, so he was sent to Petworth, where the English Province maintained a sanatorium. Here within twelve months he made what seemed to be a satisfactory recovery. However, when he resumed theology in Ireland, doubt arose over the permanence of this recovery, so by special dispensation he was ordained a priest at the end of his second year. After theology he went to Rathfarnham (his third time there) as a tertian, and on his appointment as Minister of Juniors stayed on (1942-50). During this period also he was “Province Prefect of Studies” (inspector of colleges).
Since about 1945 Fr Charlie was “vice postulator” of the cause of Fr John Sullivan's beatification. He played a great part in drawing up the necessary documents for the Judicial Informative Process held in Dublin and in Kildare and Leighlin. The cause entailed an enormous amount of correspondence not only with Rome but also with a very large number of clients both at home and abroad, some seeking relics and others informing him of favours received through Fr Sullivan’s intercession.
[The next nine years of Fr Charles’s life - his Gonzaga period, 1950-59 - are dealt with separately, below. His Provincialate (1959-'65) presently lacks a chronicler! Fr Brendan Barry was his Socius and successor as Provincial: had he survived, we might have had a first hand account).
When Fr Charlie ceased to be Provincial in 1965, he came to Clongowes, where he spent the reinaining sixteen years of his life. He was made pastor of the people's church and was given charge of the garden and the pleasure grounds. For many years also he taught religion to one of the junior classes, to whom he became guide, philosopher and friend. He interviewed the boys regularly in his room, and in later life many of them returned to thank him for the help he gave them when they had succumbed to depression.
Besides his voluminous correspondence connected with Fr John Sullivan, he was also indefatigable in writing to Ours, especially to those working on the missions in Hong Kong, Zambia and Australia. Many an exile was completely dependent on him for news of what was happening here at home. As guestmaster he always gave them a hearty céad mile failte on their return from foreign parts.
Fr Charlie occupied one of the rooms near the hall door and so was in constant demand as confessor at unusual hours, He heard confessions also for long hours every week-end, on the eves of First Fridays and all the Church holydays. However, probably the greatest demand made on his time and patience was in listening to all sorts of down-and-outs who came regularly to him seeking help both spiritual and temporal. Frequently they arrived at mealtimes, but never did he show any resentment at the inconvenience they caused him. He took very literally the words of the Gospel: “As often as you did it to the least of these my brethren, you did it to Me”. He was often asked also to bless invalids either in their own homes or in hospitals in Naas or Dublin or sometimes farther afield.
In the school itself he was in daily demand to superintend the swimming pool and showers. On half-days, especially when there were visiting teams Charlie was taken and put under to be catered for, this was a long and sedation. very wearisome chore in the steaming atmosphere of the baths, to the accompaniment of a constant din of high-pitched youthful screaming and shouting to their hearts' content. At the end of the exercise, he always insisted on doing the mopping-up personally, even though many volunteered to help.
A few years ago, his tuberculosis showed signs of returning, so he had to go to hospital in Dublin. Afterwards he spent some time recuperating in his home atmosphere at Clonalis, Co Roscommon. He began to suffer from two great disabilities: deafness and loss of memory. Though he was supplied with a hearing aid, it never worked very successfully. He was not mechanically-minded, and so found it difficult to adjust: for all practical purposes he discarded it completely.
With his loss of memory, another man might have retired completely into his shell, but not Fr Charlie. At times admittedly when talking to him, it could be embarrassing to have to hear and answer the same question two or three times in the course of a short conversation. As a result of these disabilities, he had to give up offering Mass and hearing confessions in the People's church, but these were the only concessions he did make. He managed to keep up all his other activities right up to the end.
On Sunday, 25th October 1981, at breakfast (7.30 am) he looked pale and sickly, and admitted to feeling unwell. He took merely a cup of tea and was led back to his room. The doctor was sent for and diagnosed a heart attack, but not one requiring immediate intensive care hospital. He saw Fr O’Conor's immediate need as rest, preparatory to transfer to hospital, and himself suggested the nearby nursing home, Hazel Hall in Clane. The consultant assented to this course, so there Fr Charlie was taken and put under sedation.
During his first few days in Hazel Hall he appeared very anaemic and listless; then by degrees he seemed to regain both his colour and his interest in everything: happenings at home, goings and comings. Various members of the community visited him daily, as did his sisters, four of whom survive.
On All Souls' day (2nd November) two of the community visited him and found him ever better than he had been on previous days. Within an hour or so, as afternoon tea was being brought to the rooms, word came back that Fr Charlie had suffered another heart attack, to which he succumbed. Next evening his remains were brought to Clongowes. Dr Patrick Lennon, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, received the coffin at the main door of the 1932 building. The senior boys carried it down the corridors, the others lining the way, to the high altar of the Boys' chapel, where his Lordship spoke the final prayers. Among the dignitaries present that evening were Dublin's Lord Mayor, Alexis FitzGerald, who had been one of Fr Charlie's pupils at Gonzaga, and the ex-Taoiseach, Mr Liam Cosgrave. Dr Dominic Conway, Bishop of Elphin (the O’Conor home diocese), presided next morning at the funeral Mass concelebrated by some seventy
priests. The then Taoiseach, Dr Garret FitzGerald, was represented by his aide-de-camp, and the Knights of Malta, attired in their robes, were well represented: Fr Charlie had been their chaplain. The coffin was then carried once more in by the senior boys to the hearse waiting on the main avenue, with the rest of the boys fining the route; then all proceeded to the community cemetery, where the final farewell was spoken by Fr Provincial. Tributes carne from far and near from all classes of people who felt his death as a real personal loss. May he rest in peace!

Fr O'Conor's Gonzaga period
In the spring of 1950 Charlie left Rathfarnham to take up residence in Milltown Park and to set up Gonzaga College in part of the newly-acquired Bewley property. He had been Province
Prefect of Studies for some years, but had never been on the teaching staff of any of our colleges. With the thoroughness and dedication that was characteristic of him, he set about this pioneering task leading to an ever-mysterious future whose outlines he could barely have glimpsed.
Those who were posted to Gonzaga in 1950 received more sympathy than envy from their friends. One of them told the present writer that the postal delivery of 31st July, which brought the unwelcome Status news brought also another letter - a line of welcome from Charlie with a their ten-shilling note enclosed. This kind personal consideration was a marked feature of his life.
The Rector of Milltown, in whose name the Bewley property had been bought, had entrusted the reconstruction of the house - the future school and residence - to a group of tradesmen who undertook to do it after working hours. By the opening date, 8th September, they hadn't finished the job. However, classrooms and toilets were ready. The brethren's rooms had each a bed, a table and a chair: community meals were in Miltown Park, Every night Charlie went down to meet the workmen and enjoy a smoke with them, despite the irritation their broken promises occasioned him.
The Archbishop of Dublin, Dr John Charles McQuaid, had requested a school at the south side of the city. While meeting this request, the Provincial, Fr “Luigi” O'Grady, had decided that the Province should try to offer a preparation for third-level education other than that given by the Leaving Certificate and Matriculation courses of those days. A return to the Ratio
Studiorum was invoked, but it wasn't obvious how this was to be applied to the realities of Irish secondary education in 1950, when parents paid all school fees and university entrance standards had to be met. Charlie had his own ideas of what a school might be, and while not being a theorist, he had his own quiet way of converting his ideas into reality. I think he saw the school as ancillary to the home. Hence parents were invited to all school occasions, even to a cup of coffee after a Confirmation in the opening year, when standing-room scarcely existed for parents and boys. He had a deep personal interest in each of the boys and held private “chats” with them in his office. Many of them have told the present writer that they received help from him that carried them through post-school years.Charlie’s involvement in the school’s life was total. He taught Religion and supervised the lunchroom and the changing-room for games. He was constantly thinking of the immediate and future needs of the school, and planned community each change with great care, relying on listed arguments pro and contra before his decision, then really trusting in the power of prayer for every undertaking. Here his devotion to our Lady and confidence in her intercession was remarkable. When the theologians vacated the second Bewley house, variously known as Sandford Grove, Winkelmann’s and St. Joseph's, Gonzaga fitted it up as a classroom block. Charlie gave great care and attention to every detail of the plans for this, as he did for the building of the hall and library block, and on this latter he was more efficient than any clerk of works could be. Before the building was handed over, the whole community was paration for third-level education other asked to do a tour of inspection to note any omissions or defects; the result was a long list of 113 minor items for the builder's consideration.
As a superior, he was a man of his time. He expected co-operation with his ideas, though he listened to ours. It was possible to disagree with him without having a row about the matter. He was thoughtful and considerate for each individual. His expectations of others were high, but he never asked anyone to do what he himself was not willing to attempt
He had a real interest in people, indeed in all people, from the poor man begging for a shilling to those friends of his own family who were in a very different social class. He had a real love for the poor, evidenced by the fact that on one Sunday afternoon no less then 37 came to Gonzaga begging for a little help'. He didn't readily speak about himself, but one day he did tell us of his delight at receiving a letter from a woman in England, asking for his mother's name. She wished her child to take that name in Confirmation, because Mrs O'Conor had given this woman's mother a weekly gift of tea and sugar and the only new clothes she had ever worn,
In the community Charlie was very friendly, even though his shyness tended to make him seem aloof at times. His life with God may have affected his easy approach to people. It was certainly the hub of his life, about which all else revolved. The sincerity of his faith was an inspiration. He won the respect and affection of a large proportion of the boys and their parents, and the years have not blunted their perception of his simplicity, sincerity and saintliness.

A former pupil's appreciation
Mr Charles Edward Lysaght, born in 1942, was educated at Gonzaga and is a barrister and writer. He is the author of Brendan Bracken (1979) and of the following tribute, which appeared in The Irish Times and is reprinted here with a few excisions.]
Fr Charles O’Conor, O’Conor Don, was in every sense a prince among men. As the descendant of the O’Conor High Kings, he was heir to an aristocratic tradition which far antedated the Protestant ascendancy and stretched back beyond the Norman invasion. His forebears in the Penal days had paid a heavy price in worldly terms to hold on to their Faith. It was wholly in character that Fr Charles, the only son among ten children, should not have counted the cost of devoting his life to the priestly vocation in the Society of Jesus.
As a Jesuit he has a fruitful life. Before his ordination he read History at University College, Dublin, and did important historical research for his Master's degree on the history of his family in the Penal days. In 1950 he founded Gonzaga College and quickly established it in a position of eminence in Dublin life ... He was a man of vision and he realised the importance of establishing in Dublin a first-class Catholic day-school.
Of course he had his foibles. His picturesque turn of phrase and well-bred mannerisms evoked occasional mirth among the boys. He could be rigid in some ways and may have lacked an understanding of human frailty in dealing with the wayward. He was very much the child of the old preconciliar Church, where the maintenance of standards was considered as important as the apparent dictates of human compassion.
It was a recognition of Fr O’Conor’s achievement as first rector of Gonzaga that he was appointed in 1959 to be Provincial of the Irish Province of the Jesuits. ... When his term as Provincial ended in 1965, he returned to Clongowes and sought to promote for canonisation the cause of Fr John Sullivan, the convert son of an Irish Lord Chancellor, who had taught him as a boy at the school. He also acted as chaplain to the Irish Association of the Order of Malta, which his father, Mr Charles O’Conor of Lucan House, had helped to found..
The memory which abides is of the man himself, a gaunt delicate figure, shy, reticent, earnest and somewhat tense, who walked very much alone in God’s path through life’s journey. There was about him a graciousness and elegance, epitomised by his handwriting and use of language, which adorned all he touched. It went to the very core of his being and was combined with a deep spirituality and true humility. In his last years he accepted with true Christian resignation his declining mental powers and the great cross of not being able to say Mass. To have been taught by him and to have known him was an inspiration in life, for through that experience one could not help but feel closer to one’s God.

◆ The Clongownian, 1982
Obituary
Father Charles O’Conor SJ
The Clongowes Community and boys suffered a grievous loss by the death of Fr Charles O'Conor on the 2nd November in Hazel Hall Nursing Home in Clane - just two miles from the College. He had suffered a heart attack on the Sunday morning eight days earlier which the doctor at first did not think was very serious. Indeed within a day or two Charles began to get his colour back and seemed definitely to be on the mend. However on Monday, 2nd November at 3.30 pm the nurse brought him a cup of tea, returned in ten minutes and found him dead. So his passing was swift and probably painless. Many of the younger generation may know little about Fr Charles or his career. So a brief outline of his life in the Society is called for.

Fr Charles O'Conor entered the novitiate at Tullabeg on the 1st September 1924 accompanied to that grim building by a bevy of young ladies, who, we learned afterwards, were some of his nine sisters - Charlie being the only son and heir to the title of the “O'Conor Don”. Having completed his two years noviceship he passed on to Rathfarnham, to the University, and there he spent four years and secured an MA in History. Then he returned to Tullabeg for his three years of Philosophy and he later spent the time of regency as assistant to the Master of Juniors.

In 1936 he began his theology in Milltown, but the following year he had to retire to the Jesuit sanatorium at Petworth in Sussex after a serious attack of TB. After a year in Petworth he returned to Milltown with his health improved; there he finished his theology, having been ordained after only two years of theology by special privilege. He finally completed his Tertianship and training in Rathfarnham Castle, and here he was to remain as master of Juniors, for eight years until 1950 when he was given the difficult and extremely demanding task of founding our now so successful Gonzaga College. Charles spent three more than busy years on this task and the next six years as Rector of the College.

In 1959 he was appointed Provincial of the Irish Province and at the end of this task, and at his own request, he came to Clongowes to take charge of the Peoples Church. Added to his other duties was that of vice-postulator for the cause of Fr John Sullivan. This well-loved task involved him in a very tiring, heavy and constant correspondence.

This, in brief, is the factual account of Charles's life, the part of it that all could see. But “qualis erat” really? Again we must be brief.

The Lord said that the love of God and the love of our neighbour is the summary of Christianity, nor can the two commandments be separated. He who has the one must have the other. We, humans, can in any case see, or at least be certain of the one ie, love of the neighbour. Charles had this virtue in excelsis. He could not offend in word or deed; he could not say or, I believe, think an uncharitable word; he was always ready to oblige; he was a humble man who never gave the faintest impression of being superior in any sense. He was always a pleasant companion and gravitated towards the less popular, less attractive of his fellows. He was deeply respected and beloved, I dare say, by all his fellow scholastics, and saying that I have said enough,

G O'B SJ

O'Leary, John C, 1914-1968, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/562
  • Person
  • 18 December 1914-04 March 1968

Born: 18 December 1914, Cashel, County Tipperary
Entered: 07 September 1934, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1949, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1952
Died: 04 March 1968, Gonzaga College, Ranelagh, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 43rd Year No 3 1968

Gonzaga College
Fr. John O'Leary, on medical advice, entered hospital on the evening of Saturday, 2nd March, but neither he nor we were unduly concerned for the state of his health : he himself had talked about a weak heart muscle and the need to lie up for a couple of weeks. Consequently we were very shocked on the following morning to learn that he had suffered a coronary and been anointed. Matters seemed to have improved somewhat by that Sunday evening, but another attack ensued during the night and he died about 4 a.m. on Monday. The remains were received at Gongaza chapel on Monday evening and solemn requiem Mass celebrated there on Wednesday, 6th March. The numbers that attended both the reception and the Mass bore eloquent testimony to the great esteem in which he was held and to his tremendous capacity for making friends. May he rest in peace.

Irish Province News 43rd Year No 4 1968
Obituary :

Fr John O’Leary SJ (1914-1968)

Father John O'Leary was born in Cashel, Co. Tipperary, on the 18th December 1914. One might say of him that he was a pure product of the Irish Province of the Society. From the time he entered Mungret College as a boy, all his studies and all his experience of life were confined to Ireland. His career in the Province can be summarised thus. Noviceship at Emo 1934-36; University studies in Rathfarnham 1936-39; Philosophy in Tullabeg 1939-42; Regency at Mungret 1943-46; Theology at Milltown Park 1946-50; Tertianship at Rathfarnham 1950-51; Clongowes 1951-61; Belvedere 1962-63; Gonzaga 1963-68
Father John was an uncomplicated character. An enduring and endearing trait was a certain “pietas” if one understands by this, a loyalty to places where one has lived and worked. It is a good quality. It was strong enough in him to make him vulnerable to some leg-pulling. One could easily get a ‘rise' out of him by some adverse remark on any house where he had worked. Father was no academic. He was an extrovert, with no inclinations towards intellectual theories or controversies. This has its advantages since everything appears much simpler than it really is. Of late years he was upset by the unrest and questioning in the Church and in the Society. This simplicity of outlook also made him somewhat of a “laudator temporis acti”. Indeed, a good deal of his conversation was about the good old days as a scholastic. It never seemed to dawn on him that in the remembrance of other people, they were very bad old days. As a boy in school he distinguished himself both at Hurling and Rugby, and even in the incomprehensive art of Cricket. And he retained a trim athletic figure to the end. It is notorious that schoolboys have a deadly accuracy in the nicknames they sometimes give to their masters or prefects. At Clongowes they called him “Ever-Ready”. And as far as outward activity was concerned, it gave the essence of Father John. He was always on the spot when something happened. It was an invaluable quality in a prefect, or a Minister, as far as the boys were concerned. Possibly not equally appreciated where the Community is concerned. But it made him invaluable especially in games and school activities.
He got on very well with the parents of our boys. He was always “there”. Partly from tradition, and partly from false spiritual direction in regard to “externs”, it must be admitted that many Irish Jesuits rather tend to avoid the casual visitor. He, or she, is the responsibility of the Minister or the Rector. Father John's inclination was in the opposite direction, and his instinct in this was right. The parents appreciated it. He was willing to talk, even by the hour, about the doings of “little John” or “little Alexander”. What this meant to the parents came as a revelation to the community at Gonzaga when he died. Amongst the very large gathering of parents who came to the College for his obsequies there was real genuine grief. There is surely a lesson in it for all of us who are engaged in teaching in the Colleges. During his years at Gonzaga he also organised the swimming classes. It took a lot of patience and a lot of trouble, since the boys had to be organised for transport to the Iveagh Baths. One can get very tired of that sort of thing. But once again Father John was always there, always ready. The school misses him sorely.
He is gone now to his reward. He will be understood and appreciated by the Marthas of God's Kingdom; those invaluable people without whose incessant activities there would be no dinner for the Marys.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1968

Obituary

Father John C O’Leary SJ

The Rev John C O'Leary SJ, who died in a Dublin nursing home, was born in Cashel, Co. Tipperary, in 1914 and received his secondary education at Mungret College, Limerick. He entered the Society of Jesus in 1934, did his clerical studies in Jesuit houses in Ireland and was ordained to the priesthood at Milltown Park in 1949.

He had taught at Mungret College for three years before ordination. Subsequently he was stationed at Clongowes Wood College for ten years (1951-1962), at Belvedere College for one year and at Gonzaga College for nearly five years (1963-68), where he functioned as teacher, prefect and vice rector.

Irish Independent

O'Neill, Hugh, 1927-2017, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/830
  • Person
  • 20 May 1927-12 February 2017

Born: 20 May 1927, Dungarvan, County Waterford
Entered: 07 September 1944, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1958, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1961, Crescent College SJ, Limerick
Died: 12 February 2017, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death.
Early Education at St.Mary's College Mullingar, Co Westmeath; Clongowes Wood College SJ

1946-1949 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1949-1952 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1952-1955 Crescent College SJ, Limerick - Regency : Teacher; Studying for H Dip in Education
1955-1959 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1959-1960 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1960-1961 Crescent College SJ, Limerick - Teacher
1961-1962 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Lower Line Prefect; Teacher
1962-1973 Crescent College SJ, Limerick - Teacher; Pioneers
1973-1975 Gonzaga College SJ - Secretary to Headmaster
1974 Assistant Province Treasurer
1975-1979 Loyola House - Assistant Province Treasurer; Editor “Ordo”
1976 Editor of “Liturgical Calendar” & “Province News”
1979-1984 Leeson St - Subminister; Editor of “Liturgical Calendar” & “Province News”
1984-1989 Crescent Church, Limerick - Assists in Church; Editor of “Liturgical Calendar” & “Province News”
1989-1991 Tullabeg - Assists in Church; Editor of “Liturgical Calendar” & “Province News”
1991-2017 Milltown Park - Editor of “Liturgical Calendar”; Chaplain
1992 Chaplain Maryville Nursing Home, Donnybrook, Dublin
2011 Editor of “Liturgical Calendar”; Assists Co-ordination of Community Liturgy
2013 Editor of “Liturgical Calendar”
2014 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/life-quiet-faithfulness/

A life of quiet faithfulness
Jesuits, family and friends bid a final farewell to Hugh O’ Neill SJ, who died peacefully in Cherryfield Lodge in the early hours of Sunday morning, 12 February. He would have been 90 on 20 May this year. He was a native of Dugarvan, Co Waterford and as a Jesuit, taught in Crescent, Clongowes and Gonzaga colleges. He was a keen environmentalist and ahead of his time in that respect. In his later years he worked on the ‘Liturgical Calendar’ for the Irish Province and edited ‘Province News’.
Fr Bill Callan, rector of Milltown Park, gave the homily at his funeral mass place in Milltown Park Chapel, Ranelagh, on the Wednesday after his passing. Fr Hugh was remarkable for his courtesy he said, noting how many of the nurses and staff of Cherryfield Lodge referred to him as ‘a true gentle man’. He quoted Ella, the Polish nurse who spoke of her sadness at his death saying,“O Father, so sad: he was beautiful man, – so grateful. No matter how small the thing you do for him he always says ‘Thank you’.” This sentiment was echoed even by the Jesuits whom he taught. David Coghlan was in his class and remembered the high jinks he and his fellow students would get up to. No matter what their behaviour, Fr Hugh’s toughest form of discipline was the admonishment – “Better remain standing”.
The Provincial, Fr Leonard Moloney also remembered his school days being taught by Fr Hugh. He shared about the real impression he made on him and the boys when Fr Hugh inculcated in them a sense of caring for the environment, especially the trees that provided the paper they so took for granted. To this day, the Provincial said, he was always mindful not to be wasteful of paper.
An anecdote from Bill also underlined Fr Hugh’s sensitivity to the environment. “Hugh immensely enjoyed his walks, taking a bus to some remote destination at weekends and doing a circuit locally on weekdays. On these daily outings if he saw any offending litter strewn on the ground he had no hesitation in collecting it and bringing it home for disposal in the house bins. The sight of a Jesuit coming up Eglington Road and stooping to pick up litter as he went, is not seen all that often! However what might strike us as incongruous made perfect sense to Hugh: Such rubbish was a blot on the landscape and as he was passing why should he not be the one to put this to rights.”
But in the end, according to Bill, what stood out most regarding Fr Hugh and his life as a Jesuit priest was his faithful service to the God he believed in. The life he lived was sustained by quiet faithfulness, and the strong love he had for his country and his religion, he said. This was “the key to understanding Hugh’s life: His fidelity would not make sense if God did not exist.”
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

Redmond, John O'C, 1924-2011, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/794
  • Person
  • 18 June 1924-29 September 2011

Born: 18 June 1924, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1942, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1956, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1959, Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 29 September 2011, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/sadness-and-style/

Sadness and style
Fr John Redmond died peacefully in Cherryfield on 29 September at the age of 87. How would we like to remember John? In two scenes, from the start and the end of his adult
life. With a group of fellow about-to-be novices he hired a chauffeur-driven car and proceeded in style from Dublin to the noviciate in Emo. Other photos from this time show him handsome, stylish, full of charm. There is a transparent innocence and optimism in his face. He never lost that innocence. In his seventy years as a Jesuit, John schoolmastered and ministered as a priest. But he suffered from serious illness, initially depression, later accompanied by physical illness. Last month, after a particularly traumatic spell in hospital, he returned to Cherryfield literally weeping with joy that he would be able to die at home.
One remembers too a picture of the Belvedere Cricket Team from the college annual of 1942. A close friend describes it: “In the middle, small, confident, nonchalant in his blazer and whites is John the team captain (also a disconcerting slow bowler and steady bat). In the row behind, tall and angular, Dermot Ryan, namer of metropolitan parks. The photograph celebrates a victory and is full of life and promise.
Another memento from that time marks his victory in the Belvedere debating society. Classmate Garret Fitzgerald’s rapid-fire delivery had for once met its match. It was a wonderful consolation to the family that in his final days he returned to Cherryfield. Then he was at peace – like the man in Luke who was sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. That is how I will remember John, at peace at the end, as he was on that sunny day of cricket. I know he gave his best as a Jesuit for 70 years, even if he thought his best was not good enough. He never ceased to think of and pray for all his family and to thank God for all his good companions in the Society of Jesus. It is with thoughts such as these that I comfort myself.”
John’s contemporary, Dick Cremins, preached at the requiem Mass in Cherryfield:
“An early memory: in Emo we were gathered at the back door, waiting to go in after recreation. I said or did something unusual, at which he exclaimed encouragingly, “Brother Cremins, you missed your vocation!” Then his hand on his mouth, as he realised that in another sense this was not something one novice said to another. Even then John was the life and soul of the party.
In our years of formation, in Tullabeg and Milltown, he continued as a cheerful spirit, always engaged in the choir and on the stage. That was the man I left behind when I went to what was still Northern Rhodesia. We lost touch until 50 years later when I returned home and found he had become the Hermit of Cherryfield. He was odd, withdrawn, and never left his room. On the few occasions when I met him, I found him gracious, although I believe this was not the experience of every one, including his family. I heard then how he had isolated himself and given up work – until in the end there was no place for him except in this nursing home.
One of our contemporaries, Michael O’Kelly, who was a strong young man and one of the best footballers of our time, began in Tullabeg to complain about a pain in his knee. My reaction was to say to myself, “Why doesn’t he snap out of it and get on with life?” It was a cancer. In a short time his leg was amputated above the knee, and he died before he could be ordained. I learned not to take the pains of others so cavalierly.
Likewise, we should not underestimate John’s sufferings: isolation, depression (those who have never known it wonder why he didn’t snap them out of it), low self-esteem, a feeling of being useless and achieving nothing (what could be worse for a Jesuit?). John’s achievement was a life of suffering borne with great fortitude and who knows how much prayer. For that we give thanks.
Edmund Campion (d. 1581), in his Brag, spoke of being “merry in heaven” with his persecutors, a word he borrowed from Margerie Kempe (c. 1400). We pray that John may be merry with the Lord and that with help of his prayers we will join in their merriment when our time comes.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 147 : Spring 2012

Obituary

Fr John Redmond (1924-2011)

18 June 1924: Born in Dublin.
Early education at St. Vincent's CBS, Glasnevin and Belvedere College
7 September 1942: Entered the Society at Emo
8 September 1944: First Vows at Emo
1944 - 1947: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1947 - 1950: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1950 - 1952: Crescent College - Teacher (Drama, Choir, Games)
1952 - 1953: Clongowes - Teacher (Drama, Games)
1953 - 1957: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1956: Ordained at Milltown Park
1957 - 1958: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1958 - 1962: Loyola House - Teacher of Religion and Philosophy at Bolton Street
2 February 1959: Final Vows at Loyola House
1962 - 1975: Gonzaga College: Spiritual Director to boys; Teacher; Prefect; Sports Trainer
1964: Teacher (rugby, cricket, games); Sub-minister; founded Vincent de Paul for boys in the school
1975 - 1985: Belvedere College - Teacher; Spiritual Father to students
1976: Spiritual Father to Students IV, III, II, I
1981: Assisted in Gardiner Street Church
1985 - 1994: Gardiner Street - Assisted in Church
1994 - 1997: Milltown Park - Pastoral ministry
1997 - 2004: Sacred Heart Church, Limerick - Assisted in Church
2000 - 2004: Assistant to Prefect of Health
2004 - 2011: Cherryfield Lodge - Praying for the Church and the Society
from 2006 : Attached to Milltown Park Community

John Redmond was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge in September 2001 following heart surgery in the Mater Private Hospital, and recovered well. He became a full-time member of Cherryfield Lodge in 2004. Following the death of his twin sister Peg, his condition deteriorated, particularly in the last year. After 2 days in a coma, he died peacefully in Cherryfield Lodge at 9.30pm on Thursday 29 September 2011

Obituary : Paul Andrews

John entered the Jesuits in 1942, at a time when such an action was piously spoken of as “giving your life to God”. One was offering the Lord a chalice full of sweet wine, the whole of one's future. John made the offering with joy; he had a quality of optimism and enthusiasm which was infectious, and stood out even among the bright sparks who went with him to Emo. A couple of them joined him in hiring a chauffeur-driven car to carry them from Dublin to the noviciate. He wanted do it in style.

As we look back on his long life as a Jesuit, we can see how inadequate is the image of a goblet of sweet wine. Our lives and relationships are inevitably a mixed drink, bitter-sweet. We can see in retrospect what a mixture it was, at once richer and more painful than when we took vows. John's remarkable mother may have had some inkling of this. In his journal of jottings and quotations, John notes an extraordinary memory. On 18 June 1942: Upon my telling mother, with great joy, that I was going to join the Jesuits, she replied: “You do not know what you are doing!!!”

People have warm, happy memories of John in those early days: handsome, smiling and gifted in many directions. Despite his small stature he was a sportsman who could captain the Belvedere cricket team, swing a golf club, play a respectable game of soccer; and a debater who won the school prize ahead of the rapid-fire delivery of his classmate Garret Fitzgerald. He was at ease on the stage, singing, dancing, acting. And he was the best of company, with an unaffected charm.

He read English in UCD, and he left behind a journal with a telling collection of the literature that spoke to him, pages and pages of meticulously transcribed poems and prose. He obviously loved the romantic poets, Keats, Laurie Lee, Browning: The year's at the spring and day's at the morn... He copied at length St Augustine's account of the death of his mother Monica, and strong pieces from St Patrick, Newman and Fulton Sheen. Gerard Manley Hopkins features more than any other poet, but here we begin to see John's own history. He moves from Hopkins' wide-eyed love of nature: Look, look up at the stars! to the desolation of his late sonnets: I am gall, I am heart-burn. God's most deep decree Bitter would have me taste. My taste was me.

That gradual move from joy in the world around him to an overwhelming sense of his own inadequacy, is the story of his life, and difficult to understand from the outside. John taught in Bolton Street College of Technology for four difficult years, difficult because he was in strange territory with few of the old signposts to help him. He could not take for granted that his students were open to religion, much less that they were pious. Yet a recent encounter reveals another side of his ministry. David Gaffney was visiting houses in the parish of Esker when he met a parishioner outstanding for his devotion to the community and the parish. As they chatted, the man told David: As a young man I had no time for religion, really disliked it. But then I went to Bolton Street Tech and was taught by a priest called Father John Redmond; and he made such good sense of religion that it has stood to me ever since. I told John this story on his deathbed, but do not know if he was conscious enough to savour it.

John would have had little sense of success. In 1962 he moved into Jesuit schools, first Gonzaga, then Belvedere, as spiritual father, teacher and trainer of sports. He founded the Vincent de Paul Society in Gonzaga, and introduced generations of boys to an awareness of the poverty not far from their doors. He led pilgrimages to Lourdes, and could show a dazzling smile to the camera in the group photograph. But gradually in his middle years, in the nineteen sixties and seventies, he fell prey to the black dog of depression, which goes hand in hand with feeling unloved. The self-confidence needed to meet people, or to impose himself in a classroom, deserted him. He would look at his life, at his achievements, and wonder: is there anything there? Did I make any difference?

The changes in the church did nothing to cheer John. The new form of the Mass, which opened its treasures to so many Catholics, remained alien to him. The turmoil that followed Vatican II in the Church and in the Jesuits stirred him to anxiety and anger. That firm, well-rounded faith, nurtured in the hallowed parish of Iona Road, nursery of countless vocations, seemed to have less and less to say to the world around John.

His reaction to depression was to retire. It is not that he was neglected. While he did meet sometimes with the snap-out-of-it sort of advice, that was not the general pattern. In Gonzaga, Belvedere, Crescent, Milltown and Cherryfield, in varying degrees, his Jesuit colleagues agonised over how he could be lifted. Good professional help certainly mitigated some of the pain and damage. But increasingly through his seventies and eighties he tended to withdraw not merely from work but from his human contacts both with Jesuits and with his other kith and kin. Dick Cremins, a near-contemporary, was astonished on return from Zambia to find that the charming and sparkling young John he had known in the 1950s had become the hermit of Cherryfield. He could still be lovely company when the black dog was put outside the door. But most of the time he suffered, especially at losses like that of his twin sister Peg.

John's Requiem Mass was on the feast of a Scottish Jesuit martyr, St John Ogilvie. The government forces that captured him in Edinburgh, tortured him at length in the hope he would betray other Catholics. They crushed his limbs under huge weights. They pricked and pierced him with needles continuously for nine days and nights to keep him without sleep – but he maintained his patience and even gaiety right up to his last moment, when he was hanged in Glasgow.

John Ogilvie gave his life to God as a young man; John Redmond over nearly nine decades. It is only at the end that we can see what is meant by "giving our life to God". His tortures for the most part were not physical but interior, and they lasted for years. They climaxed during a terrible spell in hospital in his last month. When George Fallon arrived to drive him back to Cherryfield, the exhausted John broke down in tears of joy that he would be able to die at home. On the third page of his journal he had copied out Newman's prayer. Let me end with it:

“May He support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in his mercy may He give us a safe lodging and a holy rest and peace at the last”.

Redmond, Stephen B, 1919-2017, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/833
  • Person
  • 26 December 1919-14 January 2017

Born: 26 December 1919, Ballsbridge, Dublin
Entered: 28 September 1940, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1950, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 February 1958, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 14 January 2017, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Early Education at Holy Faith, Haddington Road, Dublin; Synge St CBS, Dublin; UCD

1942-1945 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1945-1947 Belvedere College SJ - Regency : Teacher; Studying H Dip in Education at UCD (45-46)
1947-1951 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1951-1952 Rathfarnham - Tertianship
1952-1971 Gonzaga College SJ - Teacher
1971-1979 Lusaka, Zambia - Assistant to Novice Master; Teaching Theology; Writer; Music Apostolate at Jesuit Educational Institute, Xavier House, Chelston
1979-2010 John Austin House - Music Apostolate; Writer
1989 Assistant Province Archivist; Librarian; Directs Spiritual Exercises
2010-2016 Milltown Park - Music Apostolate; Writer; Spiritual Director; Spiritual Director in Legion of Mary and St Joseph’s Young Priests Society
2013 Music Apostolate; Writer; Spiritual Director in Legion of Mary
2014 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/podcasts/stephen-redmond-sj-looks-back-life-jesuit/

Always young in heart
Stephen Redmond SJ spent his life writing, teaching and composing music, including a song for the Eurovision in 1969. He died on Saturday, aged ninety-seven. In this interview with Pat Coyle of Irish Jesuit Communications when he was 93, he talks about his childhood and his life as a Jesuit.
In ‘the good old days’ when Stephen Redmond SJ was teaching English and History in Gonzaga, he was also writing music. In 1968 his Irish song Gleann na Smól was in the final few from which Ireland’s entry to the Eurovision Song Contest was chosen. Over the years – many years – he has written many other songs both in Ireland and later in Zambia, where he ran a weekly radio programme.
He published a selection in a CD called Wonder World: Songs for Children and the Young in Heart. The lyrics are by various poets, including four poems by Stephen himself. He wrote and performed (piano and voice) all the music. Proceeds from the sale of the CD goes to Third World charities.

Roche, Redmond F, 1904-1983, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/378
  • Person
  • 01 August 1904-20 June 1983

Born: 01 August 1904, Tralee, County Kerry
Entered: 05 October 1922, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1936, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1940, St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
Died: 20 June 1983, John Austin, North Circular Road, Dublin

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1938 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 58th Year No 4 1983
Obituary
Fr Redmond Francis Roche (1904-1922-1983)

We had been friends since we came together as boys in Clongowes. As a boy, as indeed all through life, he was quiet and unassuming, always in good humour, and somehow radiating goodness. In the Lower Line, he and I and a couple of others, under the auspices of Mr Patrick McGlade, the Line Prefect ( †1966), started a news-sheet called Lower Liner. The first few weekly issues were polycopied before we ventured into having it printed by the Leinster Leader and sold at 3d a copy. However, for Fr Larry Kieran, the Prefect of Studies, this schoolboy venture into publication was too much. We were ordered to desist and confine ourselves to our quite undistinguished studies.
Ned Roche was born in Tralee on 1st August 1904, and before going to Clongowes attended the Christian Brothers' School, Tralee, and Our Lady's Bower, Athlone. He entered the Society in Tullabeg on 5th October 1922, some days too late to join in the First-year novices Long retreat. In travelling to Tullabeg, he had been hindered by the disruption of transport services caused by the civil war. If I recall aright, Ned, accompanied by his father, came by coaster from Tralee to Cork, and thence as best he could via Limerick to Tullabeg.
He joined our group of ten Second-year novices for that very happy month while, without making the retreat, we attended the talks. These were given by Fr Michael Browne, who had just begun his third term as Master of novices. For conferences and recreation we were accommodated in the old Sodality room beside the People's church. Outside, we walked untold miles up and down the stretch of road outside the back gate. Ned fitted in as if he had been there all the year.
Noviceships are normally uneventful. His finished, Ned passed on to juniorate in Rathfarnham (1924-26), philosophy in Milltown (1926-29), prefecting in Clongowes (1929-33), theology in Milltown (1933-'7). In 1934 he served my First Mass in the old chapel of Marie Reparatrice in Merrion square. His own ordination came in 1936, followed after theology by tertianship in St Beuno's (1937-38). He served as Socius to the Novice-master in Emo for four years (1938-42).
There followed an unbroken term of twenty-five years as a superior: Rector of the Crescent, Limerick (1942-"7), of Clongowes (1947-53), of Belvedere (1953-39), and Superior of the Apostolic school, Mungret (1959-67); then Minister, Vice Rector and Rector of Gonzaga (1967-'74). On recovering from a a very severe (almost fatal) illness in 1974, he served for three years on the Special Secretariat. In 1977 he became Superior and bursar of John Austin House.
To have borne so much overall responsibility for so long, with the added burden of big building extensions in both the Crescent and and Belvedere, and to have won such respect, admiration and affection amongst his fellow-Jesuits, the college boys and their parents - all this makes Ned one of the truly Ignatian Jesuits of our time.
In a letter he wrote to me on my way to Australia, telling all about the retreat Er Henry Fegan had just given the juniors in Rathfarnham (1925), he constantly reminded us of it. “Quid faciam pro Jesu? and Non quaero gloriam meam, sed gloriam Eius qui misit Me: these were much-used texts. These words express a profound influence on a life they go a long way to explain.
G. Ffrench

This year (1983) Fr Roche's health began to deteriorate markedly. Stair climbing became an ordeal and black-outs occurred. After a time in the Whitworth (St Laurence's) hospital, he went to Cherryfield to convalesce, but was soon back in the Whitworth, where he died peacefully on the morning of 20th June.
It was a life of remarkable service in one very responsible position after another. He brought to each assignment a dedication that was wholly admirable and meticulousness that could on occasion be exasperating. In his rectorships he completely accepted the whole 'package', from care of the community and in the old system) the school to responsibility for attendance at meetings, matches, plays, dinners, funerals. All that involved considerable self-giving austerity of life.
He was quite clearly a man of God, and quite unconsciously conveyed that impression to others. After his death the parish priest of Aughrim street parish and the president of the Legion of Mary praesidium of which Ned was spiritual director told me of the sense of Gold that he brought with him. There will be readers of this He was kind and understanding (there are many testimonies of this). On his own admission he hardly ever lost his temper, but when he did, he did! He was a shrewd assessor of character and situation. He was very interested in developments in the Church and the Society, and kept up his reading in Scripture and Moral Theology. Here one sensed his spirit of obedience.
There are some good-humoured stories about him: the one apropos of his devotion to funerals, that he once approached a funeral stopped in traffic and asked could he join it; how he once delighted the novices by inadvertently pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket as he left the refectory; how he once began to admonish scholastic X and then said, “Oh, I beg your pardon, that was meant for scholastic Y”.
He had a special interest in and affection for Mungret. Readers will remember his authoritative article on Mungret in Interfuse (no. 12 (Dec 1980), pp. 11-24). Mungret records found a home in his room in John Austin. One of the great pleasures of his later years was to be visited by graduates of the Apostolic school from various parts of the world.
In his day he was a keen golfer, cricketer and skater, He brought to his sport that exactness with which he served God in larger matters. (Playing croquet with him in Emo, remember, was an exhausting experience!) His favourite animal was the racehorse, and he went to the - on television - as often as he could.
On 20th June he finished his own earthly race in the peaceful hope of another vision. It is a grace to have been with him.
SR

◆ The Clongownian, 1983

Obituary

Father Redmond F Roche SJ

Ned Roche, as he was familiarly called, died in Dublin in June last; only some years previously he fought his way back from almost fatal illness, showing in this the measure of his willpower.

Born in Tralee on 1 August 1904, he came to Clongowes after earlier schooling in Our Lady's Bower, Athlone. Four years later in October 1922 he joined thirteen first year Jesuit novices in Tullabeg, among them two of his contemporaries in Clongowes, Charlie Daly (1919-22), now in Hong Kong and Bill Dargan (1917-22), now in Eglinton Road.

With a pretty good general knowledge of the career of Irish Jesuits since Fr Peter Kenney landed in Dublin on 31 August 1811, I think his record of continuous administrative service is unique. Beginning with his eight years in forming others with its due place in learning the art of administration, I set down here without immediate comment his curriculum vitae:
1921-31: Gallery Prefect in Clongowes.
1931-33: Lower Line Prefect in Clongowes.
1933-37: Theology in Milltown Park where he was ordained priest on 31 July, 1936.
1937-38: Tertainship in St Beuno's, N Wales
1938-42: Socius, i.e. assistant to Master of Novices, Emo Park.
1942-47: Rector, Crescent College, Limerick.
1947-53: Rector, Clongowes Wood, College.
1953-59: Rector, Belvedere College.
1957-67: Superior, Apostolic School, Mungret.
1967-70: Minister, Gonzaga College.
1970-76: Rector, Gonzaga College.
1976-78: Bursar, John Austin House, NCR, Dublin.
1978-83; Superior, John Austin House.

While Fr Roche was certainly not the first Superior to die in office - one thinks off-hand of Fr James Gubbins who died as Rector of Belvedere, of Fr John S Conmee who died as Rector of Miltown Park - the unadorned mention of the offices he filled is ample evidence of the respect in which he was held by the eight provincials whom he served as a priest and by his Jesuit brethren.

The hallmark which stamped his character was thoroughness inspired by charity. Not over-quick by nature this thoroughness in mastering detail caused him hours of patient daily labour. In the five schools in which he worked he set out to gain as full a knowledge, as possible of his boys and their parents, of their individual personal problems, their joys and their sorrows. Nor did he forget them in their careers after they left: quite by accident I came across two instances where he had supplied the money to make post graduate studies in the United States possible. He had the countryman's innate sympathy for bereaved familiers and, if at all possible, attended requiems, often involving long tire some journeys.

As in work so also in play, Ned was thorough: for years he was one of four Jesuits who took their fortnight's summer holiday in Tramore: the drill was strenuous, eighteen holes before lunch, eighteen holes and a swim after lunch; deadly serious bridge after supper.

His memory should be kept alive here in Clongowes by placing a modest plaque on the Lower Line Pavilion which he built fifty years ago. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1984

Obituary

Father Redmond Roche SJ

This year (1983) Fr. Roche's health began to deteriorate markedly. Stair-climbing became an ordeal and the black-outs occurred. After a time in the Whitworth (St Laurence's) hospital, he went to Cherryfield to convalesce, but was soon back in the Whitworth, where he died peacefully on the morning of 20th June.

It was a life of remarkable service in one very responsible position after another. He brought to each assignment a dedication that was wholly admirable and a meticulousness that could on occasion be exasperating. In his rectorships he completely accepted the whole package', from care of the community and (in the old system) overall responsibility for the school to attendance at meetings, matches, plays, dinners, funerals. All that involved considerable self-giving and austerity of life.

He was quite clearly a man of God, and quite unconsciously conveyed that impression to others, After his death the parish priest of Aughrim Street parish and the president of the Legion of Mary praesidium of which Ned was spiritual director told me of the sense of Gold that he brought with him. There will be readers of this obituary who can confirm this for themselves.

Ned Roche was born in Tralee on 1st August 1904, and before going to Clongowes attended the Christian Brothers' School, Tralee, and Our Lady's Bower, Athlone. He entered the Society in Tullabeg on 5th October 1922, some days too late to join the First-year novices' Long retreat. In traveiling to Tullabeg, he had been hindered by the disruption of transport services caused by the civil war. If I recall right, Ned, accompanied by his father, came by coaster from Tralee to Cork, and thence as best he could via Limerick to Tullabeg.

In 1934 he served my First Mass in the old chapel of Marie Reparatrice in Merrion Square. His own ordination came in 1936, followed after theology by tertianship in St Beuno's (1937-8). He served as Socius to the Novice-master in Emo for four years (1938-42).

There followed an unbroken term of twenty-five years as a superior: Rector of the Crescent, Limerick (1942-7), of Clongowes (1947-53), of Belvedere (1953-9), and Superior of the Apostolic school, Mungret (1959-67); then Minister, Vice-Rector and Rector of Gonzaga (1967-74). On recovering from a very severe (almost fatal) illness in 1974, he served for three years on the Special Secretariat. In 1977 he became Superior and bursar of John Austin House.

To have borne so much responsibility for so long, with the added burden of big building extensions in both the Crescent and Belvedere, and to have won such widespread respect, admiration and affection amongst his fellow-Jesuits, the college boys and their parents.

(Compiled from contributions by S. R. and Ffrench).

Ryan, Michael J, 1917-2008, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/797
  • Person
  • 06 September 1917-03 April 2008

Born: 06 September 1917, Dublin
Entered: 17 October 1941, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1951, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final vows: 02 February 1955, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 03 April 2008, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Entered St Mary's, Emo, County Laois: 07 September 1936; Left: 02 March 1939; Re-entered: 17 October 1941.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/michael-ryan-sj-rip/

Michael Ryan SJ, RIP
The funeral of Fr Michael Ryan SJ took place in Milltown Park, Dublin on April 7, 2008. Michael died peacefully at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin on Thursday, April 3, 2008, aged 90 years.
Born in Dublin, his early education was with the Christian Brothers on North Richmond Street. He entered the Jesuits in Emo in 1936, then studied Arts at UCD, followed by Philosophy at Tullabeg. His Regency was at Mungret and Clongowes, and he studied theology at Milltown, where he was subsequently ordained in 1951. As a priest, he worked first as a teacher in Clongowes and then in Gonzaga College. From 1957 he ministered in the Sacred Heart Church, Limerick, for three years and then assisted in the Milltown library until 2006, when he was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge. His condition had deteriorated in his last six months and he had to be transferred to hospital for treatment, eventually returning to Cherryfield in March before his death on April 3. May he rest in the peace of Christ.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Went to Juniorate without Vows. Sent away because of bad speech impediment. Reentered

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 136 : Summer 2008

Obituary

Fr Michael Ryan (1917-2008)

6 September 1917: Born in Dublin
Early education at CBS, North Richmond Street, Dublin
7th September 1936: Entered the Society at Emo
1938 - 1939: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
31st July 1939: Left the Society for health reasons
1939 - 1941: Studied Arts at UCD
17th October 1941: Re-entered the Society at Emo
2nd February 1944: First Vows at Emo
1944 - 1947: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1947 - 1948: Mungret College - Regency
1948 - 1949: Clongowes Wood College - Regency
1949 - 1952: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1951: Ordained at Milltown Park
1952 - 1953: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1953 - 1956: Clongowes Wood College - Teacher
2nd February 1955: Final Vows at Clongowes
1956 - 1957: Gonzaga College - Teacher
1957 - 1960: Sacred Heart, Limerick - Ministered in Church
1960 - 2007: Milltown Park - Assisting in Library....
21st August 2006: Admitted to Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin
3rd April 2008: Died at Cherryfield

Fergal Brennan writes:
Michael Ryan was a most unusual character. He possessed a unique combination of charm, humour and suspicion. The Milltown Community Staff found him very pleasant and likeable. He was always smiling, told them jokes, and plied them with stories about fishing. His family were fond of him, and his funeral was delayed so that some relatives could return from Australia to attend.

Born in Dublin in 1917, Michael attended O'Connell Schools, where he was impressed by several of the Brothers. Entering the Noviceship in 1936, he was already an accomplished fisherman, catching pike in the Emo lake. Paddy Kelly reports, however, that several people objected to Michael using live, fluffy, little coot chicks as bait. At the end of his time in Emo, Michael did not take First Vows, but he did go on to Rathfarnham and started studies in UCD. He left the Society the following summer, but continued to associate with the Juniors, going for walks up the hills with them, and attending the Irish Villa. On such Villas in Ballinskelligs, Michael taught fly-fishing to Des O'Loughlen and anyone who was interested. When he finished his degree in 1941, it is said that Michael “talked his way back into the Noviceship”. This time he did take Vows, and his progress through ‘Formation' was quite standard after that, including Ordination in Milltown.

After Tertianship, Michael started on a life of teaching - first in Clongowes, then Gonzaga, where the students in his Irish Class did extremely well in the Leaving Certificate. However, Michael was not suited to the work, and transferred in 1957 to the Sacred Heart Church in the Crescent, Limerick. A physically active man, he loved travel and sport. He not merely fly-fished at Castleconnell, and played golf in Ballybough, but, whenever he could, he would take the bus to Kilkee to go swimming in the Pollock Holes. In the Church, he was regarded as a kind and sympathetic confessor, of great assistance to people with scruples. Michael was considered to be hard-working, religious and committed, very useful in the Church, a man of prayer, but somehow different, perhaps even odd, though this wasn't really his own fault. However, tensions arose between Michael and the Minister. Gradually, the tensions grew, eventually culminating in Michael preaching a public sermon criticising the Minister, while the latter was saying the Sunday Mass. This brought matters to a head, and Michael was moved to Milltown Park.

During his time in Milltown, Michael helped out in the Library, particularly in the Irish Section. He was happy there and enjoyed doing research, mostly on Irish history and ancient languages. He was convinced that all languages are derived from the language of Adam. The older languages include Old Irish, and so it could provide clues to the meaning of Old Testament names. St Patrick was a major subject of Michael's research. It was remarkable that he concluded that our Patron Saint was born in Boulogne-Sur-Mer, in France, without being aware that the citizens of Boulogne were already convinced of that; a school, a parish, and some streets there are called after him. But the Boulognnais based their conclusion directly on tradition, without taking the route touristique through Britannia Secunda and Bun na hAbhann, Normandy and Neustria, which could last the whole of a St Patrick's Day Long Table. Micheal had the imaginative talent of a novelist, piling on the embellishments. It is reported that a whole Supper was spent explaining how the story of the Knock apparitions was fabricated by the Nun of Kenmare.

Fishing remained an important hobby for Michael, and he would spend two weeks every year in Pontoon with Jack McDonald and Dermot Fleury, fishing from a boat on Lough Conn. He practised golf in the Milltown grounds, swam in the pool, and spent a lot of time at "outdoor works", slashing vigorously at tussocks along the Black Walk. He remained an acute observer of nature, especially of birds and plants.

Basically a kind man, Michael helped foreigners with their English, explaining to them the anomalies of the language. Still, he was not above a bit of “divilment”. Before a meal, he would go to the Library and read up a topic in an Encyclopaedia article. In the Refectory he would sit with Eddie FitzGerald, and bring up the topic during a lull in the conversation. Eddie took the bait every time, and a long argument would ensue. After one such exchange, when Michael had left, Eddie said to me: “Actually, I don't know much about it, but I do know Michael Ryan can't be right!” In fact, much of the time Michael was right. He took considerable delight in being able to hold his own in a discussion with a learned professor. In so doing, he proved something to himself and he felt the better for it.

Michael enjoyed teasing people and challenging them, particularly if they were authorities of some sort. But sometimes his words were awkward or aggressive, and his attitude was misread. At a Province Meeting in Rathfarnham, he famously threw down the gauntlet by asking the Provincial would he not agree with the “Danish proverb” that says, “A fish rots from the head down”. There was no real malice in Michael. He was never actually uncharitable about others, though he remained quite convinced that some of them were out to get him. He was particularly worried about John Hyde, watching him and following him around. Michael was convinced, too, that his neighbour was interfering with his hand basin and had bugged his room. There were two reasons for this. Not only did this man live in the room next door, he was also a leading ecumenist, and Michael was ever a loyal defender of the “Catholic truth”.

Old age mellowed him considerably, dampening much of his prickliness and suspicion. He grew tolerant of Superiors, and was liked increasingly by many people. It was sad, though, to watch his powers deteriorate and his confusion grow.

He gave up gardening. Golf became too much for him. He started losing things in his room, though he no longer blamed this on anyone else. As his confusion grew, he seemed to grow in calmness and self awareness. He enjoyed the company of Magda, his Polish care-giver. Beaming, he would come down the stairs to go for a walk, with Magda on his arm. “Don't marry a Polish wife!” he would chuckle, obliquely expressing his appreciation of her solicitude. In fact, he was grateful to the Staff for all the help he received, and very grateful to Mary Mooney, who brought him his breakfast and took care of his room. Finally, Michael's confusion grew too great. He was moved to Cherryfield in August 2006. Suffering from senile dementia, he was well cared for by the Staff there. He died peacefully on April 2008.

Michael lived much of his life in a world of his own imagining. He was a fundamentally decent human being, though haunted by recurrent suspicions which were largely beyond his control. I hope that he has found peace, now, and freedom from all his fears.

Sutton, James J, 1933-2010, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/798
  • Person
  • 09 February 1933-26 July 2010

Born: 09 February 1933, Gardiner Street / Glasnevin, Dublin / Donnycarney, Dublin
Entered: 22 October 1955, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1966, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 26 July 2010, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

by 1959 at Rome, Italy - Sec to President of CC. M.M.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/versatile-jim-2/

Versatile Jim
With the death of Brother Jim Sutton last week, the Irish Jesuits lost a quiet man of multiple talents. Born in Glasnevin, and schooled by the Christian Brothers in Scoil Mhuire,
Marino, he was bright enough to win a scholarship into the ESB. Having trained as an electrician he entered the Society at 22. That was his most familiar role in the Province: he wired, rewired, fixed and constructed and maintained plant in most of our houses, leaving a precious legacy behind him. His other talents were less well known. He ran with Donore Harriers, played brilliant hurling with St Vincent’s Club, and could bring a party to life with his banjo. In this last year he pulled himself back from a life-threatening sickness to brighten the surrounds of Cherryfield with its brilliant flower beds. He is remembered with great affection.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 143 : Autumn 2010

Obituary

Br Jim Sutton (1926-2009)

9th February 1933: Born in Co. Dublin
Early education in Scoil Mhuire, Marino; Ringsend Technical College;
ESB apprentice; Qualified electrician.
22nd October 1955: Entered the Society at Emo
12th January 1958: First Vows at Emo
1958 - 1959: Curia Rome - Secretary
1959 - 1970: Milltown Park Community - Electrician, Plant maintenance
1965 - 1966: Tullabeg - Tertianship
15th August 1966: Final Vows
1970 - 1983: Manresa House - Electrician, Plant maintenance
1983 - 1997: Gonzaga Community - Consultant Electrician and Painter (Province Communities and Apostolates)
1997 - 2010: Gonzaga Community - Assisting the sick and elderly
14th October 2009: Admitted to Cherryfield Lodge
26th July 2010: Died in Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Myles O'Reilly writes:
It was very striking when Jim Sutton died how much he was grieved for, not only by family and friends but by the Cherryfield staff itself. A bright, intelligent, cheerful man, sparkling with life, was gone out of their lives. They had witnessed the ordeal he went through the previous 6 months with one doctor insisting that he continue to be plied with heavy doses of antibiotics to keep his knees from becoming re-infected again; and the other, his heart specialist, equally adamant that his heart and body could sustain no more antibiotics. He was between a rock and a hard place and it was only a matter of time before one would prevail over the other. During those months he was a defiant figure and a comic sight to see in a wheel chair, being pushed by Brendan Hyland and Tom-Tom around the grounds of Cherryfield, giving the orders and they digging holes and planting flowers where he wanted them planted according to his master plan! They grew the flowers from seed in Gonzaga garden and transferred them to Cherryfield when the time was right. When you go into Cherryfield grounds now, you cannot but be struck by the beauty of the flowers which are a tribute to Jim's dream garden.

Jim was born in Gardiner St., but early in his childhood his parents moved to Donnycarney, where he and his 3 elder sisters were raised. He went to Colaiste Scoil Mhuire Marino and Ringsend Tech. In his growing up years he played the banjo and sang with the “Black and White Minstrel Show” a group founded by his uncle. He loved the GAA and played in goal with the St Vincent's hurling team. He was a passionate follower of the Dublin footballers all his life and blamed their demise in recent years to their picking too many players from south of the Liffey! His father was a foreman in the docks, which gave rise to Jim wanting to be a tug-boat pilot guiding ships up the Liffey from the sea. Providentially he did not get the job on health grounds, and came to be one of two who was picked out by ESB from Ringsend Tech to become ESB apprentice electricians. This exposed him to doing a retreat in Rathfarnham Castle which in turn led to his wanting to become a Jesuit brother. He finished his training as an electrician and joined the Jesuits in 1955.

He finished his novitiate late due to a stint in hospital from a hurling injury to his knee which he acquired in the novitiate. After novitiate he was sent to Rome to be a secretary to some sodality - without any Italian, and without having ever put a page in a typewriter! A few American Jesuits there kept him sane for two difficult years. From there he was sent back to Milltown Park to be plant manager and electrician. Over the eleven years he spent there, he and Jimmy Lavin must have painted every corridor and room in the house as well as doing all the necessary electrical work. You could often hear them laughing in their practical world at us students living in our intellectual world of books scurrying to classes, puffing ourselves up with knowledge - but most of us could hardly change a plug! Next Jim was sent to Manresa for 3 years and developed the role of being electrician and painter for the whole province. This meant buying a car and hiring some lay people to do the job with him. He continued in this work throughout his Gonzaga years up to 1997 until he was forced to retire from his bad knees and other health complications.

All through all those years, Jim developed a great love of nature. He could name every tree, flower and bird. Mary Oliver's short poem said it all. “Be Attentive, Be astonished, And tell of it”. He loved to grow flowers from seed and beautify the grounds of Gonzaga and Cherryfield from the full grown flowers.

Through Br Peter Doyle, he got a great interest in fishing. Br Brendan Hyland tells a story how he and Jim went for a weekend to somewhere in the ring of Kerry to fish. They armed themselves with all the latest fishing tackle and lovely new rods, and lay them carefully out on the rocks with their packed lunches to take stock of where to first cast their rods. All of a sudden a big wave came in, swept over them and took all their gear off out to sea. Brendan shocked, looked at Jim for his reaction to their dilemma. To his surprise Jim just sat down and broke his sides laughing! He was never far from seeing the funny side of things.

Jim was inclined to quickly like or dislike people. One person he intensely disliked was Senator Norris. He and Br Hyland took a weekend off once and stayed in a B & B. To his horror, Senator Norris was staying there too. But Senator Norris's charming, witty and intelligent conversation won him over! It showed up another side to Jim; he loved a good intelligent conversation, loved people who were well informed and well-read, which he tended to be himself. Those who spent time with him outside the Society tell me that he never missed daily mass, liked to say the rosary in the car and loved to stop and pray in little well-kept country churches.

Jim loved a good joke. Even in his last 5 years, when life was just one operation after another, he kept his humour and his zest for life. Up to 4 days before he died, he was still planning how to improve the garden in Cherryfield. Most of his last 4 days were spent in a semi coma. There was one brief moment where he came out of the coma. He was awakened by the voice of Linda, the cook from Gonzaga. He opened his eyes and with a big smile gave Linda and Mary McGreer and others who were there a big hug. After that he never regained consciousness and died peacefully 2 days later. May he rest in peace.

Tuohy, David G, 1950-2020, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/860
  • Person
  • 10 February 1950-31 January 2020

Born: 10 February 1950, Newcastle, County Galway
Entered: 07 September 1967, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 27 June 1981, Galway Cathedral, Galway
Final Vows: 03 December 1994, Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 31 January 2020, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1981 at Fordham NY, USA (NYK) studying
by 1990 at St Joseph’s,Philadelphia PA, USA (MAR) teaching 1 semseter
by 1991 at Austin TX, USA (NOR) making Tertianship

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/an-authentic-jesuit-academic/

An authentic Jesuit academic
Gonzaga chapel was packed for the funeral Mass of David Tuohy SJ, which took place at 11 am on Monday 3 February 2020. David died peacefully, after a short illness, on the morning of Friday 31 January, just over a week before his 70th birthday. It was an occasion marked by hearty laughter, profound sadness, and deep prayer.
David’s family, fellow Jesuits and many friends were joined by members of the Church of Ireland community including Archbishop Michael Jackson and the Reverend Anne Lodge.
David had indicated some wishes for his funeral. He chose the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus as the gospel reading and his long-time Jesuit friend David Coghlan SJ as the main celebrant and homilist.
It was not the first time that David had asked his Jesuit friend to preach on the Emmaus gospel as David Coghlan explained. “In 1994 when he was taking his Final Vows as a Jesuit David asked me to preach on this gospel and what he wanted me to emphasise was how Jesus, by explaining what he was about, transformed the misguided vision of the two –“Our own hope had been”... In his work with educational leaders, he engaged with them very seriously on what their vision was, what their values were and how they would be actualized in their trust or school structures and educational processes.”
In his opening remarks of welcome, David Coghlan said that during the six months of his illness David spoke constantly in terms of an image from St Luke’s gospel, where the friends of a sick man climb on to a roof of a house and taking off the tiles, lower their friend, who is on a stretcher, down through the ceiling to place him in front of Jesus to be healed. “As David received cards, messages, and reports of love and prayers, he spoke of how he understood that those who were praying for him were holding the ropes and lowering him down to Jesus,” said David. “He was very moved by the prayers and support he was receiving from all over the world. Sometimes he’d apologise for being in bad form, especially when was feeling sick, and in my helplessness, I’d say that there was no need to apologise as I was merely holding the ropes.”
And anyone who spoke at both David’s removal and funeral, including the Jesuit Provincial Fr Leonard Moloney SJ, also attested to the fact that the prayers or presence of his fellow Jesuits, from at home or abroad, throughout his illness was a true source of comfort and support for David – in particular, his Jesuit contemporaries and the Leeson St community. Mary Rickard, Rachel O’Neill and all the staff of Cherryfield nursing home and St James’ hospital were also acknowledged for the wonderful care they gave him in his last months.
David Tuohy was a native of Galway and was schooled in Coláiste Iognáid SJ. He joined the Society of Jesus in 1967 at the age of 17 and was ordained in Galway in 1981. He did his primary degree in botany at UCD under Professor Johnny Moore SJ.
He became a teacher, the first of many careers, and taught in Coláiste Iognáid and Belvedere College. He completed his doctorate in NUI Galway in 1993 and took a post lecturing in UCD, before moving to NUI Galway in 2000. He resigned from that post several years later and became an educational consultant. According to David Coghlan in his homily », David’s time in these universities was foundational and shaped the work he would subsequently go on to do with teachers, school principals, educationalists, and doctoral students.
“His energy and output were enormous,” said David, referencing “the consultancy work with individual schools, boards of management, religious congregations, educational trusts, of which his pioneering work with Le Chéile stands out, research for the Dept of Education, work in Africa with the Loreto sisters, with the Church of Ireland, The Marino Institute, school of nursing... The list is extensive.”
At the end of the Mass, Leonard Moloney SJ also mentioned David’s expertise at board meetings where he as Provincial needed support when complex issues would arise. “David had to give me the odd kick under the table at some of those meetings,” he quipped.
David was also the author of numerous books, articles, and ground-breaking research and reports. His book on Denominational Education and Politics: Ireland in a European Context, published in 2013, was widely acclaimed. His work as an educationalist spanned the continents of Africa, Australia, America, and Europe. He was “an authentic Jesuit academic in the Jesuit intellectual tradition of education in his heart and in his practice,” according to David Coghlan, who added that the central theme of David’s whole apostolic enterprise was “values, leadership, and Catholic education.”
In later years, around 2011 David began working with the Church of Ireland on a number of substantial projects that have borne fruit in the form of key initiatives for giving vigour to Church life in Ireland. He developed a deep friendship with Archbishop Michael Jackson and the Reverend Dr. Anne Lodge. On 1 October 2017, he was made an ecumenical canon in the Church of Ireland.

David Coghlan in his homily told a story that underlined the importance of this ecumenical work for his friend David. “Last week in his dying days when he was telling me again what he wanted me to say at this Mass, and from an apparent sleeping state, he opened his eyes, stretched out his arm and grabbed me to remind me to be sure to mention his ecumenical work.”
In his address at the end of the Mass, Archbishop Michael Jackson certainly did not forget to do just that. In 2015 David was asked by Archbishop Jackson to take part in his Come&C project (“come and see”). This involved facilitating parishioners in Dublin and Glendalough who had taken part in a survey on mission, commissioned by the Archbishop. Over 80% of these parishioners had responded to the survey. They then came together to reflect on it and to plan for the future in terms of a commitment to discipleship in their local parishes, inspired by the gospel vision.
David subsequently co-authored Growing in the Image and Likeness of God, with Maria Feeny which grew out of this work. The book explored discipleship and the five ‘marks of mission’ within the Anglican communion.
Archbishop Michael Jackson spoke about this project in his address at the end of the funeral Mass. “We in the Church of Ireland dioceses of Dublin and Glendalough have so much for which to be thankful on this day of thanksgiving for the life of David Tuohy,” he said. “Because David transformed. He transformed our rather insufficient and inert understanding of our Anglican identity, in which we slumbered somewhat, by taking the five marks of mission of the Anglican communion and bedding them in our psyche and in our spirit.”
Noting that the power to simplify complex concepts was one of David’s key gifts he added, “Forevermore we in Dublin and Glendalough will remember the five marks of mission as the five ‘T’s, that came ready- made from the pen of Dr. Tuohy: Tell, Teach, Tend, Transform, Treasure. And so will the Archbishop of Canterbury, to whom he presented them!”
There was of course more to David than his impressive academic career, As David Coghlan pointed out, he had a wonderful, quirky sense of humour. He often accepted the offer of a gin and tonic by remarking, “I feel a bout of malaria coming on so I need the quinine!” He could turn his hand to anything, according to David, and that included cooking, writing biblical meditations, co-producing musicals, coaching rugby, rowing and show jumping. “And who remembers how he trained to be a soccer referee and was certified by the FAI and had the referees’ black outfit, whistle and notebook?”, David asked adding wisely, “As a player, I wouldn’t have dared give him any backchat!”
David’s entire life was underpinned by a deep connection to his family, his sister Ann, his brother Paul and all the many nieces and nephews around the world with whom he made contact. Paul pointed out in his address at the end of the service that David had probably married or baptised all of the family gathered for his funeral Mass.
Archbishop Michael Jackson finished his tribute to David by saying, “I will miss him terribly, and I have no doubt that many others will also,” a sentiment echoed in the closing words of David Coghlan’s homily. “When the pain and awfulness of today has transformed into the warm and lovely memory of someone beloved, then we may be hopeful, be appreciative of who David is for us and we may let into our hearts the transformative love that God offers us. But that may not happen easily today.”
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/discipleship-great-cathedral-creation/

Discipleship in ‘the great cathedral of creation’
David Tuohy SJ was the invited preacher at the ordination of four Church of Ireland Deacons, on Sunday 18 September, in Christ Church Cathedral. Archbishop Michael Jackson presided at the ordination of Deacons, Tom O’Brien (St Mary’s, Howth), Rebecca Guildea (Zion Parish, Rathgar), Stuart Moles (St. Patrick’s, Greystones) and Anne Lodge (Raheny Parish). David had conducted a two day retreat for the Deacons in September, in Manresa Jesuit Centre for Spirituality in Clontarf, Dublin, and is involved in ongoing accompaniment of participants in the Anglican Church’s Mission programme, Come and See.
In his homily, he said that the four ordinations challenged everyone present to reflect on their own call to discipleship and the journey it entails. “The first dimension of our journey is inwards, to the depth of our own being, to let God touch and transform our human weakness.” Referencing the first reading in the liturgy – the call of the prophet Isaiah – he continued, “Isaiah saw God in the glory of His heavenly kingdom. We see him in the great cathedral of His creation. Our familiarity with the word of scripture directs us to the drama of God’s presence in our world and our lives. Our discipleship seeks the wisdom that goes beyond the superficial to the drama of God loving and caring for us. We let God open up a sense of wonder that captures our minds and our hearts.”
We are never alone on the journey of discipleship and sharing with a community of believers, all with their differing gifts, marks the second dimension of discipleship, he continued. But this part of the journey can be fraught, with individualism and eogism threatening the harmony of unity. “Our world is characterised by different tyrannies,” he said. “The tyranny of majorities who demand conformity from others in order to preserve their own privilege; the tyranny of minorities who demand special treatment in a way that undermines others. We are flooded with media images that portray irreconcilable differences between communities and individuals caught up in a selfish pursuit of excess privilege,” he said. This being the case, true discipleship, following the example of Christ, “requires a language that speaks of hope, reconciliation, mutual understanding and community in a new and creative way.”
For the follower of Jesus, this language also entails action. And the action, as modelled by Jesus, is of compassionate service. As well as looking after the needs of the poor, the sick, the homeless, the prisoner, David said the disciple of Jesus is also called to challenge a life strangling and pervasive fundamentalism.”To-day, there is a need to engage with the fundamentalism of science, and to let the religious imagination engage with new discoveries in cosmology, medicine and the social sciences, where it will find a creative and loving God. There is the need to engage with the fundamentalism that values the human person only as an economic unit of production, giving rise to the exclusion of certain groups from sharing in a society’s wealth. There is a political fundamentalism that seeks to exclude all aspects of religion from public debate. The call of service is to open people’s minds to the way some philosophies and structures can oppress, impoverish and dis-empower both those who hold these philosophies and their victims, as well as reaching out and ministering to those victims.”
He concluded by acknowledging how the ordination of the four deacons was an encouragement to all present. “As they take on a new role of journeying with and serving the community, we are invited to pray for them. Above all, we are invited to give thanks for their generous response to God, and to give glory to the God who continues to call all of us to work with Him in building up his Kingdom.”
All four Deacons had taken part in the the Mission programme that David is involved in leading. Participants reflect on the Anglican Church’s five marks of Mission and seeing how they apply concretely today in the diocese of Dublin and Glendalough. Those marks are: Tell (Preach), Teach (Nurture friends and newcomers), Tend (Look after with loving care), Transform (the unjust structures), and Treasure (enable and look after God’s creation).
David says that as a Jesuit, being part of this journey with people exploring Mission in the Church of Ireland, has given him a new insight into different ways of organising Church and engaging with Church. “And I’ve found the female clergy and female lay participation with Synods very affirming of the faith of all the people and their lives in a Christian community.”

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/a-galway-farewell/

A Galway farewell
The Month’s Mind Mass for David Tuohy SJ took place in St Ignatius Church, Sea Road Galway (see photo) on Sunday 29 February 2020. David was a native of Galway who lectured for a time in Galway University, and a large crowd, including some of his fellow Jesuits from Dublin, came to mark his passing on Friday 31 January this year. After Mass, all were invited to the Jesuit Community house for tea and sandwiches.
The celebrant and homilist was Martin Curry SJ, also from Galway and a life-long friend of David’s. He told the congregation that it was precisely in the neighbourhood in which they were gathered, right beside Coláiste Iognáid, that David realised he was called to be a Jesuit, and that he was ordained in that very church in June 1981.”Whatever thoughts David had when he joined about what he might do as a Jesuit,” said Fr Martin, “he certainly never imagined the fantastic achievements that he completed in his 53 years.”
Read the full homily below.
The Trumpet Shall Sound
It is very fitting that the Gospel today for Saturday of 1st week in Lent is the call of St Matthew by Jesus. Because it was in this neighbourhood of Coláiste Iognáid and Galway that David recognised his own call to become a Jesuit. He joined the novitiate in 1967, just after school. And he was in fact ordained in this Church by Bishop Eamonn Casey in June 1981.
Matthew was a tax collector for the Romans and as such was an enemy of the Jewish people of his time. David was an ordinary student at the Jes and took part in lots of activities in the school. He spent a lot of his life working in schools and became an expert in the management of schools and educational theory.
We remember his great work with very many groups in the country and in Africa, his time lecturing both in UCD and in NUIG, but perhaps one of his greatest achievements was the setting up of the Le Chéile Trust, where he brought together 11 congregations at first, later 14, and formed them into a legal trust to preserve their ethos and identity as the number of religious diminished to near zero.
The patience and expertise needed to bring all those groups together was enormous. Recently David was trying to set up a similar trust for the Jesuit schools in Ireland, but he was taken from us before that could be finished.
Whatever thoughts David had when he joined about what he might do as a Jesuit, he certainly never imagined the fantastic achievements that he completed in his 53 years. I won’t repeat his history – that was very adequately done by Fr. Coghlan at the funeral. I would like to remember the motivation underlying David’s work throughout his life.
He was really in touch with God, particularly through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. He didn’t talk about it too much, but hearing him expound on his ideas and reflecting on his more recent work with the Church of Ireland you could begin to see the lively faith-base from which he worked. God was with him, and while we sometimes didn’t recognise it, we knew that David’s thinking and energy was coming from a really deep source, which was God’s friendship and grace. This was very eloquently recognised by Archbishop Michael Jackson in his words at David’s funeral.
David’s incredible understanding of difficult concepts, whether in education, spirituality, legal issues, financial issues, or lots of other things, left most of his fellow Jesuits swimming in his wake. Sometimes he couldn’t understand why we were so slow, and it brought out a bit of his impatience, but that didn’t interfere with his friendship and his ability to continue to reach out.
He faced the prognosis of terminal cancer with great courage. They were words nobody wants to hear said to themselves by the consultant, but he didn’t avoid them. He looked the issues squarely in the face – although that was very very difficult – and he decided how to manage the time he had left. A few days before he died, I was with him and we talked about his funeral and the arrangements he wanted.
I was reminded of an incident that happened here in the Jesuit community about March 1975. It was Saturday afternoon, and there was nothing major happening, as we were both in our rooms next door to each other on the top floor of the house. I had found a trumpet in Fr. Sean Mallin’s room and I spent about an hour trying to get a sound out of it. Suddenly, I got a clear blast from it, and there was a huge crash from next door! My door flew open and an amazed David stood there, having just fallen out of bed, laughingly asking what the hell was going on. I reminded him of that just before he died, and we said that now another trumpet was blowing – calling him to the next life. He smiled even through the pain of it all, but he didn’t try to avoid what was going to happen.
It is a month now since his funeral, and the immediate sadness has diminished somewhat. David spent his life telling people about God and his goodness, and the promises he made to each of us – that we would reach eternal happiness with him when the time came. David’s time had come, and we now pray that the happiness promised him will be fulfilled.
We often hear people say that when they die, they hope that they leave the world a better place than it was when they came into it. We can certainly say that about David – we are all better for having known and having shared life with him. And so are thousands of other people as well.
We pray that his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed will rest in the peace and joy of Christ forever.
Martin Curry SJ

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/lecture-david-tuohy-sj-jesuit-humanism-education/

Exploring Jesuit Humanism
Conscience, competence, compassion and commitment, not solely as conventionally understood, are the key characteristics of a Jesuit humanism for today, according to Jesuit educationalist Dr David Tuohy SJ.
David Tuohy was the keynote speaker at an education conference in St Patrick’s College, Drumcondra, Dublin, on Thursday 22 January. It was organised by the Irish Jesuit 1814-2014 Restoration Committee as part of their ongoing activities marking the 200th anniversary of the Jesuit Restoration.
The event was chaired by historian and broadcaster Dr John Bowman. David’s talk, entitled ‘Learning to Love the World as God Loves It: Jesuit Humanism In Education’, was responded to by Dr Anne Lodge of the Church of Ireland College of Education, and Mr Gerard Foley, Headmaster of Belvedere College SJ. All of their talks feature in this podcast.
In his lecture and Powerpoint presentation, David explored the Renaissance foundations of Jesuit humanism, the impact of the enlightenment, suppression and restoration of the Jesuits, and the present modern-day challenges to this Jesuit humanism which underpins Jesuit education.
The lecture unfolded the richness and depth of a Jesuit humanism rooted in the Ignatian vision of each human being as created by God and invited to co-create the world with him. This entails an inward developing of the gifts and talents of the individual (the student) as well as an outward orientation of sharing the fruits of the flourishing talents in the love and service of God and others.
This vision has ramifications for the role of the teacher which cannot simply be that of imparting knowledge to a vacant vessel. Rather and analogous to a good Spiritual Director, the teacher shares knowledge and fosters the assimilation of that knowledge in each individual as food for their intellectual, emotional and spiritual growth and development. The teacher is a ‘compass’ for rather than a ‘dispenser to’ the student.
The historical vicissitudes of half a millennium exact their own pressures on any such vision. David explored this impact on the evolution of the vision right up to the present age. Geo-political alliances today are based almost entirely on economic considerations and the experience of authority has been well and truly superseded by the individual’s authority of experience. These challenges notwithstanding, Jesuit schools and colleges are thriving today. The Jesuit humanism based on Ignatius vision of God’s love for the world and its peoples is as necessary today as at any other time in its challenging history.
In her response Dr Anne Lodge, of the Church of Ireland College of Education, highlighted the importance of the way a Jesuit education really fostered the talents, worth and uniqueness of every single student. In terms of a philosophy of education this student-centred approach which values the goodness of each person was not always the dominant vision. She said that when the Jesuits were counter-cultural they were at their best and she noted that today’s culture often put a skewed emphasis on measurable outcomes for students simply summed up as points in the leaving. The counter cultural vision of Jesuit education was therefore much needed.
Gerard Foley, Headmaster of Belvedere College SJ, outlined some of the ways Belvedere students exemplified in practice the theory being talked about. He spoke about the students’ engagement with homeless people in the annual sleepout. He cited the story of one young student who was teaching English to a migrant as part of a joint project with the Jesuit Refugee Service. After a number of weeks he said he’d changed his whole perspective on economic migrants. Mr Foley told the story of the teacher who was sowing a roof-garden on top of the college. “Without ever mentioning God, he’s been teaching the students about the care of the earth, the power of the seed, the beauty of creation”.
In conclusion he referred to Jim Culliton SJ, a former deputy headmaster of Belvedere who used to stand in the corridor and say to the parents he met, “Celebrate the child you have, not the child you hoped to have”.

David Tuohy, SJ
1950-2020

David Gerard Tuohy was born in Dublin on 10th February 1950 to Matt Tuohy and Peg Power. He grew up in Galway and attended Colaiste Iognaid. He entered the Jesuits novitiate in Emo on 7th September 1967, completed a degree in botany in UCD in 1973 while living in Rathfarnham Castles (the province juniorate), studied philosophy in the Milltown Institute (1973-5), taught in Colaiste Iognaid (1975-77), where he attained the H. Dip. He studied theology in the Milltown Institute (1977-81). He was ordained deacon in the Jesuit church in Galway by the Bishop Eamon Casey, Bishop of Galway on 24th February 1980 and ordained priest, also by Bishop Casey, on 27th June 1981, after which he studied for aeducational administration in Fordham University New York. Over the next few years he taught in Belvedere College (1982-85), worked as a parish chaplain in a parish in Tallaght (1985), taught in Colaiste Iognaid (1985-90), lectured in NUI Galway (UCG as it was then, 1990) and in Saint Joseph’s University, Philadelphia (1990-1, 1991-2). In between the two periods in Philadelphia, he did his tertianship in Austin, Texas in 1991 under the direction of Joseph Tetlow. He pronounced his final vows on 3rd December 1994 at Loyola, Eglinton Road. Dublin. While a lecturer in UCG (1992-1993) he completed his doctorate in education in 1993 and took a post in UCD (1993-2000), from which he moved to NUI Galway in 2000. He resigned from that post in 2006 and became an educational consultant. During his tenure in UCD he lived in the Milltown Park community (1993-95), and with the foundation of the Dominic Collins community at 129 Morehampton Road in 1995 he was resident there until 2000. After his resignation from NUI Galway he returned to the Dominic Collins community (2006-2017). He spent a sabbatical (2010-11) in Boston College and in Jerusalem. With the immanent suppression of the Dominic Collins community he lived in SFX, Gardiner St (2017-9) and moved to St Ignatius, Leeson St in 2019. He was diagnosed with cancer in August 2019 and after a troubled five months died on 31st January 2020.

While his tenure in the Education Depts of UCD and NUI Galway were relatively short, they were the base from where he shaped generations of teachers and school principals, facilitated school staff days and supervised research dissertations. He taught courses in educational administration and led summer schools for school principals. His book, School Leadership and Strategic Planning (ASTI) went through two editions, the first edition being launched by the then Minister for Education in 1997.

It was after his retirement from his university post to become an educational consultant that he flourished. His energy and output were enormous. He engaged in consultancy work with individual schools, boards of management, religious congregations and educational trusts. His outstanding achievement in this regard was his pioneering work with Le Cheile. A group of small religious congregations each of which had one or two schools wished to form a common trust for their schools. Over several years David facilitated these congregations’ leadership to create a common vision and he led them through the multiple legal complexities of creating the trust as a company, framing a constitution, property ownership, decision making structures and so on. He became company secretary and organised board meetings and AGMs. To date Le Cheile comprises the schools of fifteen religious congregations and fifty-three schools.

He was a prolific writer. His books include, The Inner World of Teaching (Falmer Press, 1999, later translated into Polish), Youth 2K: Threat or promise to a religious culture? (2000, Marino Institute of Education), Leading Life to the Full: Scriptural Reflections on Leadership in Catholic Schools (Veritas, 2005), and his masterpiece, Denominational Education and Politics: Ireland in a European Context, published in 2013. He authored numerous commissioned research reports across a wide range of educational topics for: The Department of Education, The Loreto Education Office, The Marino Institute, The Church of Ireland Education Office, The Loreto sisters in Uganda, Alexandra College. The topics of these reports covered: new programmes at second level, of non-curricular school policies in a school development planning context, the applied Leaving Cert, teacher development, boarding schools, parental values, secondment and the provision of education for refugees in northern Uganda,. He published articles in educational journals: Studies, Irish Educational Studies, The Furrow, Educational Management and Administration and Oideas, and book chapters and delivered papers at conferences, in Ireland, UK, Finland and Australia. He reviewed books on education created podcasts.

He was hoping that if his illness was prolonged and not too debilitating, he would return to a book project on art and education on which he had been working. Before his illness he was working on the constitutions of an Irish Jesuit educational trust where he was bringing his knowledge of the philosophy of Jesuit education, framed as Jesuit humanism, and his experience of establishing educational trusts together.

His work with the Church of Ireland Education Office extended into work with the united dioceses of Dublin and Glendalough and a friendship with Archbishop Michael Jackson. He led a project on developing discipleship in the diocese and co-authored its outcome, Come & C (Messenger Publications, 2019). He was appointed an ecumenical canon of Christchurch Cathedral and preached at the diaconate ordinations in Christchurch. Archbishop Jackson spoke warmly about David’s work in the archdiocese at David’s funeral and co-presided (with the provincial) at the prayers of commendation.

What of David Tuohy the Jesuit and man?
David was an authentic Jesuit academic in the Jesuit intellectual tradition of education in his heart and in his practice. Jesuit documents describe Jesuit scholars as apostles and that the intellectual life is apostolic even when it appears to be secular. The previous Superior General, Fr Nicolas, emphasised the need for Jesuits in the intellectual apostolate to be men of humility, abnegation and patience, free from desires for personal advancement and of competitive rivalry. He referred specifically to the ‘ministry of research’, which he said that Jesuits who teach in higher education should also be involved. He stated that ‘no field can be excluded a priori from the ministry of research: philosophy and theology, but also the sciences dealing with life, human and social science, physics etc’. It was out of this vision and his internalisation of the Jesuit educational tradition that David lived and worked. The central theme of his whole apostolic enterprise was values, leadership and Catholic education.

Underpinning all his work was an incredibly rapacious mind. His ability in maths and statistics was awesome. In his work with the Le Cheile Trust he grasped the legal complexities and was well able to take on the legal profession. Indeed he could challenge any professional. Woe betide a sloppy builder or workman or even a solicitor!

He could never resist a puzzle - sudoku, crossword, jigsaw. He could turn his hand to anything. He organised and supervised building construction, administered the practical running of communities, kept community accounts, mastered legal and insurance complexities and wrote biblical meditations. He co-produced musicals, coached rugby and rowing. He seemed to understand the complexities of every sport – rugby, soccer, baseball, cricket, gridiron. As a junior he trained to be a soccer referee and was certified by FAI and had the referees’ black outfit, whistle and notebook. He was an accomplished cook and he organised the menus and cooked the dinners at Jesuit gatherings.

As a person he was full of love, fun, making and keeping friends easily. He was deeply attached to his immediate and extended family across the world – being in regular contact, visiting them and officiating at their baptisms, weddings and funeralsm,. He researched his family’s history and constructed complex family trees. He enjoyed his pleasures: visiting art exhibitions, fishing with his cousin, playing golf, attending symphony concerts and Agatha Christie murder plays.

David’s journey was not always easy. He could get trapped easily into a cycle of anger and pessimism. Some working relationships were fractious, especially with some superiors. He could be very intolerant of what he perceived as incompetence, narrow thinking and people’s inability to understand structures and roles. Some special projects and work did not develop as he had hoped due to this.

The final few months of his life were very difficult as he fluctuated between periods living in the community with reasonable health and being in hospital with infections and in Cherryfield Lodge (the province nursing home). Over his dying few months since his cancer was diagnosed, he spoke constantly in terms of an image from St Luke’s gospel (5: 17-26). In this gospel story, a group of a sick man’s friends wanted Jesus to heal him, but because the house in which Jesus was speaking was so crowded, they climbed onto the roof, took off the tiles and lowered their friend down through the ceiling in front of Jesus. As David received cards, messages and reports of love and prayers for him, he spoke of how he understood that those who were praying for him were holding the ropes and lowering him down to Jesus. He was graced with a strong faith as his treatment stopped and he grew weaker. He died in Cherryfield Lodge 31st January 2020 a week before his 70th birthday.

David Coghlan SJ

Veale, Joseph, 1921-2002, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/584
  • Person
  • 07 March 1921-11 October 2002

Born: 07 March 1921, Drumcondra, Dublin / Ranelagh, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1938, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg
Ordained: 31 July 1952, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 01 December 1977, Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 11 October 2002, St Columcille’s Hospital, Loughlinstown, County Dublin

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

by 1963 at Fordham NY, USA (NEB) studying

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Veale, Joseph (‘Joe’)
by Bobby McDonagh

Veale, Joseph (‘Joe’) (1921–2002), Jesuit priest and teacher, was born 7 March 1921 in Dublin, younger of two children and only son of William J. Veale, civil servant, and Mary Veale (née Mullholland), both of Dublin. After primary education at St Patrick's national school, Drumcondra, Dublin, and secondary education at CBS Synge St., Dublin, he entered the Society of Jesus 7 September 1938. He studied arts at UCD (1940–43), philosophy at Tullabeg (1943–6), and theology at Milltown Park, Dublin (1949–53), where he was ordained as a Jesuit priest on 31 July 1952, spending his tertianship at Rathfarnham (1953–4).

Veale taught at Belvedere College, Dublin (1946–9), and at Gonzaga College, Dublin (1954–72). As a teacher of English and religion, he was central to the conception and development of Gonzaga College as a school with exceptional academic standards, in which the emphasis, in practice as well as theory, was on education and expression rather than on examinations. He was the founder and inspiration of the school debating society, An Comhdháil. While working as a teacher, Joe Veale wrote several influential articles about education which were published in Studies, as well as a number of articles in the Irish Monthly including a number on literary criticism. His article ‘Men speechless’ (Studies, xlvi (autumn 1957)), which set out his philosophy and vision of education, was widely influential. During his years as a teacher he also made an important contribution to the recasting of the national English curriculum for secondary schools. However, his principal contribution as a teacher, and probably his most enduring significance, was where he would have wished it to be – in the classroom itself. A teacher of exceptional insight, ability, and dedication, he inspired in a generation of pupils a capacity for independent thought. His rare understanding of language, and his skill in using it, equipped a great many of his pupils with a greater ability than they could otherwise have had to analyse the spoken and written word, to evaluate ideas, and to express their thoughts effectively.

From 1972 to 2002 he was based at Milltown Park, where his activities included study, research, lecturing, and spiritual direction. He became an authority on the spiritual exercises of St Ignatius, which he directed in Ireland, Britain, and the United States. He lectured on spirituality at the Milltown Institute, gave retreats and conferences in many countries, and was widely regarded as an exceptional spiritual director. From 1976 to 1985, and again from 1986 to 1988, he was director of Jesuits in their tertianship. He spent extensive periods every year at Boston College in the United States.

While based at Milltown Park, he wrote extensively about Ignatian spirituality, including Saint Ignatius speaks about ‘Ignatian prayer’ (St Louis, 1996; published as part of Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits); contributions to three books on the subject; and numerous articles in The Way, Studies, Milltown Studies, Religious Life Review, and The Furrow. In an article (Catholic Herald, 24 Jan. 2003) Anthony Symondson wrote that Joe Veale ‘had a profound understanding of the exercises, went below the surface, and extracted the spirituality from a specific historical interpretation. He emancipated it from an encrusted tradition buried in the nineteenth century and allowed St Ignatius to re-emerge. He strongly resisted the tyranny of ideology.’

Joe Veale also wrote several articles for Interfuse, including ‘Eros’ (no. 102, summer/autumn 1999), and the penetrating and timely article ‘Meditations on abuse . . . ’ (Doctrine and Life (May/June 2000)). He died at Loughlinstown hospital, Co. Dublin, 11 October 2002. Joe Veale's integrity and commitment to seeking the truth in all its paradox and complexity obliged him to have an open mind and encouraged a similar aspiration in very many of those who knew him.

Sunday Independent, 10 Nov. 2002; information from Fr Noel Barber, SJ, rector of Milltown Park, Dublin; personal knowledge

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 117 : Special Issue November 2003

Obituary

Fr Joseph (Joe) Veale (1921-2002)

7th March 1921: Born in Dublin
Early education in St. Patrick's, Drumcondra. and CBS Synge Street, Dublin
7th Sept. 1938: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1940: First Vows at Emo
1940 - 1943: Rathfarnham -Studied Arts at UCD
1943 - 1946: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1946 - 1949: Belvedere - Teacher (Regency)
1949 - 1953: Milltown Park -Studied Theology
31" July 1952: Ordained at Milltown Park
1953 - 1954: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1954 - 1962: Gonzaga College - Teacher
1962 - 1963: Sabbatical year
1963 - 1972: Gonzaga - Teacher
1972 - 2002: Milltown Park
1972 - 1973: Assistant Director of Retreat House
1973 - 1976: Study / Research on Spiritual Exercises; Lecturer at Milltown Institute
1976 - 1985: Study / Research on Spiritual Exercises; giving Spiritual Exercises; Lecturer at Milltown; Tertian Instructor
1985 - 1986: Sabbatical - work in US and Africa
1986 - 1988: Tertianship Director
1988 - 2002: Writer; Visiting Lecturer in Milltown; Directed Spiritual Exercises in Ireland, Britain and the USA
11th October 2002: Died at St. Columcille's Hospital, Loughlinstown, Co. Dublin

Whilst visiting a friend in Brittas, Co. Wicklow on 27th August, Fr. Joe developed severe abdominal pains. He was brought to hospital, where he underwent an operation to remove adhesions.

He made slow progress after the operation. A week before his death, he suffered a stroke from which he did not recover.

Two reflections on the life of Joe have already appeared in Interfuse (Christmas 2002 and Easter 2003). The following is the homily preached at his Funeral Mass by Noel Barber.

Joe was born in Dublin 81 years ago. He was the younger of two children with a sister who predeceased him. He was brought up in Drumcondra and then in Ranelagh - prophetically, just outside the back gate of what was to become Gonzaga College. He had a lovely memory of his parents: of never seeming to have wanted anything for themselves, of never being elsewhere.

The family were devout, daily Mass-goers and attended the Lenten Sermons in this Church every year. He went to the Christian Brothers' School, Synge Street. He was happy there, performed well, made life long friends, and left with a high regard for the Brothers and for their teaching.

He entered the Jesuit novitiate in September 1938. When he spoke of his years as a Jesuit student, it was clear that they were not particularly happy. He was an introvert, shy, extremely sensitive and did not relish the rough and tumble of community life. He was never the easiest person to live or work with in the community. Be that as it may, throughout his life he obtained his social sustenance not from unselected colleagues but from his chosen friends. Academically, he was excellent. While some may have been superior in intellectual sharpness, in high seriousness he was without equal.

He taught in Belvedere from 1946 to 1949 and was a magnificent teacher. Even eleven year olds sensed something special about him. Those of us whom he then taught can now see that he was not just a teacher doing his task competently and diligently. It was important for him that we should write well, enjoy poetry, grapple with the demands of English grammar: for him these were not mere tasks for 11 year olds, they were the foundations of a humane life. The impact he made on us in those distant days is shown by the number that still kept contact with him. We all carry something of him with us. I still am unable to use the word “very” without a tremor of guilt and without hearing him say, “Very does not strengthen, it weakens the proposition”.

After his Ordination, he was sent to Gonzaga in 1954 where he taught for 18 years. The school was then considered by many, but not by Gonzaga itself, as Belvedere on the south side. It was young, small, perhaps, a little precious. It was a pioneering venture in Irish education, being relatively free from the exam system. As teacher of English and Religion, he honed his pedagogical skills, sharpened his vision and developed his philosophy of education. His commitment to excellence in thought and expression, his insistence on the highest standards, and the breadth and depth of his intellectual interests made him more than a memorable teacher; he was a profound educator. In those years he won many life-long admirers and friends. In the interest of honesty it must be said that his style alienated a few, and he left a casualty or two on the sideline. I had the good fortune to teach under him for three years. I deeply appreciate what he taught me, and have been ever grateful for his encouragement.

He founded and was in charge of the Gonzaga debating Society. The standard of debating was remarkably high. Participation in the society was an education in itself. On one occasion, I attended a debate against Belvedere on the right to join or not to join a trade union. The Gonzaga team was superb; the Belvedere team, unfortunately, did not approach the debate with Veale-like seriousness and was poor. However from the house there rose a young man who made a witty, irreverent and debunking speech that dragged the debate down to a Belvederian level and swung it in Belvedere's favour. Next morning I asked the great man himself what he thought of the debate. A pained look conveyed that my question was inappropriate. Then he said that the brat who had ruined the debate was going to become a Jesuit. The brat, Bruce Bradley, is concelebrating this Mass.

He exercised a national influence on the teaching of English and was largely responsible for reshaping the English curriculum in Secondary Schools. His widely influential article in Studies in 1957, Men Speechless was a masterpiece in which he made the moral case for Rhetoric and distilled his philosophy and vision of education.

In 1972 he left teaching to study Spirituality, seemingly trading agnostic-leaning adolescents for devout religious. He applied his ability, commitment and seriousness to spirituality as he applied them to his teaching. He became an authority on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Igantius, on the Constitutions of the Jesuits and Ignatian spirituality. He was a highly successful director of Jesuits in their Tertianship, gave conferences and retreats all over the world, was a treasured spiritual director and all the while producing learned articles, all beautifully written. He was a master wordsmith. On Friday, a French review landed on my desk containing a translation of one of his articles.

As a director and counsellor he so cultivated his talent for listening that, it became, with his teaching, his defining characteristic. Many found that listening enormously helpful. I received this letter from a Religious on the day of his death. “Fr. Veale's contribution to the Apostolate of the Spiritual Exercises within my own congregation was immense. His many articles and presentations to audiences around the world bear witness to his wisdom and insight. I am more than grateful than I can state for his friendship, perception, wisdom and encouragement over many years. His interest in the development of my own work in spirituality and theology was a great support. His belief in the work of the Spirit of God within was always life giving". I could quote similar tributes for a long time.

At 81 he was robust and active in writing and directing. I can think of at least two significant recent articles. His room bears witness to work in progress. A small thing, he was making out a new address book. The care that he took with this book was an indication of how much his friends meant to him; I always knew that he meant much to them but in the last weeks the manifestation of this has been overwhelming. The sense of loss expressed by so many underlines the depth of his friendships.

Six weeks ago he walked the strand at Brittas Bay on a beautiful morning with a friend from his Belvedere days, Gerry Donnelly. There is a photo of him taken about an hour before he collapsed. He looks splendid, so young for his years, no sign of the approaching attack. After his operation, there were times when a recovery seemed possible. On several occasions when I visited him, he assured me that he was completely at peace and asked for my blessing. Then came the stroke that swept him away in two days but not without a furious struggle. This was most distressing to observe on that final evening, but how much more distressing it must have been to experience. As so often, the end of life was not splendid, not at all consoling to contemplate. There was the enfeebled body, the confused agitation. These are brute facts but we have to place these facts in the light of Christ's death and resurrection. We believe that when Christ was weakest, most helpless and humiliated, he was at the point of entry into glory. So with Joe Veale; he has moved from his broken state into that place of peace and happiness that was prepared for him from before the foundation of the world. May the good Lord, whom he served so well and at some cost, bless him abundantly.

Interfuse No 114 : Summer 2002

REMEMBERING JOE VEALE

Ross Geoghegan

Ross Geoghegan is Professor of Mathematics at the State University of New York at Binghamton.

Author's Note:
I knew Joe Veale and had regular contact with him from the time I was eleven, when he first walked into my classroom in 1954, until shortly before his death in 2002. I also knew his parents slightly as neighbours. In the latter years he would visit my home in Upstate New York - each year for a long weekend. The 2002 visit was to have begun on October 18. I wrote these impressions on the day he died, 11 October 2002. A much shorter version appeared as an appreciation in the Irish Times on November 4, 2002.

In a sense Joe Veale only arrived in the world at the age of 33. Son of a quiet civil servant and a strong mother, he had finished school at Synge Street, and had entered the Jesuits at seventeen. His degree at UCD was in English - he was a contemporary of Benedict Kiely - but as a clerical student in those days his contact with such young literati must have been limited. He taught for three years in the junior school at Belvedere and followed the usual Jesuit studies.

Joe's first assignment was to teach English and Religious Knowledge at Gonzaga, then a new school where the oldest boys were fourteen (a class was being added each year at the bottom as these "big boys" grew up.) Gonzaga was being touted as an experiment in education. It was to follow a modern version of the old Jesuit ratio studiorum. The school would emphasize Latin and Greek over science, and the boys would take the UCD matriculation in their Fifth Year, thus freeing them for more liberal studies in their Sixth. They would not sit for the Leaving Certificate. These were the general ideas of its very little in the way of an educational philosophy behind the plan. It fell largely to him to fill the vacuum.

In his view the main purpose of education was to make people think and ask questions, even dangerous questions, about why things are as they are, how things might be made better, who benefits from the present set-up and who does not. And along with this was the need to be articulate, so that education was also about learning to speak well and write well. Gonzaga was a relatively expensive school and many of the boys came from well-to-do families. While he did not usually challenge the culture and complacency of upper middle class Dublin explicitly, his encouragement of formal and informal debate challenged the boys to think about their own privileged place in society, He was in fact trying to instil broader ambitions than successful entry into professional clubby Dublin life. He wanted these boys to make a difference, to become leaders who would create a better and more just society. Thus he was seen by critics as a slightly subversive teacher. Not all parents liked what he was doing, especially when a few impressionable boys took his ideas overboard. And indeed not all boys liked it. But in that period Joe acquired a cadre of friends among the boys who would remain his friends for life.

Joe always claimed that he saw little difference between English class and Religious Knowledge class. The latter was interpreted broadly: besides the entirely orthodox official curriculum, he introduced sociology and philosophy at a level which was a challenge to teenagers. Since there were no textbooks for this he wrote his own on densely typed foolscap handouts. In English, he was stern, sometimes almost harsh, in his criticisms of the boys' school essays. He supplemented the official curriculum with authors he admired. In the late fifties he was introducing the older boys to Chaucer, Hopkins and T S Eliot, had them read Cardinal Newman on education, V S Pritchett and F R Leavis on style. At the onset of the Lemass period he believed that economics was THE subject to study. J. period he believed that economics was THE subject to study, J. K. Galbraith's The Affluent Society, had just come out and Joe was recommending it to any boys with the stamina to read it.

This had lasting effect in certain cases.

In those formative years Joe made only one foray into public life. An article entitled "Men Speechless" which he published in Studies in 1957 was influential in educational circles. Later he became a leading figure in the Association of English Teachers and he played a role in the reform of the Department of Education's English curriculum, but that was near the end of his teaching career.

By the early seventies he had burned out, and wanted to leave teaching. The system of university entrance was being changed and there would be no room for the liberal Sixth Year at Gonzaga any more. He moved to Milltown Park and found a new kind of work within the Jesuits as a serious student, eventually a scholar, of Ignatian spirituality. His admiration for what was called the caritas discreta of Ignatius was boundless. I remember him using that phrase in a conversation in 1964; it was clear his serious study of Ignatius had already begun by then. Within the specialized world of people - mostly clerics – willing and able to follow the Spiritual Exercises in their full thirty-day form Joe became a famous director. His articles on Ignatian thought were widely read in those circles, and he was in demand for direction, retreat-giving and panel participation in Britain, Africa and North America. For the rest of his life he was abroad for about half of each year. Indeed, in his last ten years Boston College became his second home and the place where he seemed happiest.

Many of those whose spiritual lives he directed were nuns, and he developed an acute sympathy, even anger, for the way these women had been treated by the Church. Eventually, this anger extended to the treatment of male religious as well. In the awful scandals of child-abusing priests Joe saw one silver lining: he hoped for the collapse of what he called the "Cardinal Cullen Church" (though he did not wish the collapse to be confined to Ireland). He longed for a different kind of Church - communities of faith rooted in the gospels, caring and alive, respectful of all. He wrote a passionate article in Doctrine and Life two years ago about what the experience of religious life was often like: bleak and loveless. He felt this might explain things which could not be excused, but he blamed the hierarchical, narrow-minded and philistine culture of the Church's leadership, both in Ireland and worldwide, for creating this religious hell. He wrote about “private pain ... loneliness ... isolation ... the desert in the heart ... self-hatred ... rage ... having no say in the disposition of one's own life ... the longing for human contact ... touch ... the ache for tenderness and gentleness”. It puzzled him that this article was received in near total silence - even by most of his fellow Jesuits.

At the core of Joe's later thinking was the importance of reflecting on one's own experience. To a layman this seems obvious but in a different time Joe had to find his way there. He often said that the spiritual training he received as a young man was focused on dogma and method; drawing lessons from one's own experience was considered spiritually dangerous and inadmissible in a man of prayer.

Joe's Catholicism appears to have been wholly centered on Christ and the Mass. Whatever his private prayer life may have been, I cannot remember his ever admitting to any "devotion" - not to a saint, not to the Virgin Mary. (His admiration for Ignatius was not a devotion in that pious sense.) Indeed, as Joe got older he became interested in meditation and spirituality, wherever they were to be found, outside as well as inside Christianity. He held Islam in high regard, especially admiring its public prayer. At a conference in America on the relationship between Christian and Buddhist meditation he argued the (unpopular?) view that the gulf between the West and the East was such that “we do not know whether what they are doing and what we are doing are the same or different”. But to Joe the fundamental divide in the world was between those who pray and those who do not. He gleefully described meeting an African Moslem at a party in New Delhi who somehow recognized Joe as another member of that tiny minority who pray - perhaps the only other one in the room.

In his later years Joe enjoyed the little luxuries of food and wine. He invented two cocktails - the Westminster Cathedral and the Westminster Abbey, the second a watered down version of the first. He once told this to Cardinal Hume who appeared either bemused or not amused. For Joe this reaction added to the fun of telling the story.

Joe Veale died at 81, but he never seemed old to his friends. There was always a new idea, a new discovery, a new journey, a new experience. There was so much more he wanted to do.

POSTSCRIPT:
This was not in the original article but, since I am writing for Joe's fellow Irish Jesuits, I have decided to include it. It's an extract from a letter I wrote to another of Joe's close friends - a contemporary of mine - in September 2000. I'll quote my letter precisely as I wrote it then:

An interesting and enjoyable weekend visit from Joe Veale. He's in great form and excellent health for a man who will be EIGHTY in early March. He was a little more forthcoming, though not much, about a memoir he is writing on what it was like to be a celibate cleric in Ireland :in the thirties and the forties and the fifties and the sixties and the sixties and the sixties and the seventies and the eighties and the nineties” (stet - that's exactly how he put it). Whether the world will get to see this memoir I don't know. He says he'll leave a copy with his Provincial when he dies. The P. can do with it what he likes. I think certain others may get a copy - perhaps one other... Last year I asked him if he would show it to me and was told most certainly not. This year he showed me a two-page extract. Everything with Joe is a bit breathless, and as you can imagine the extract wasn't as shocking as the billing had led me to expect. It was an interesting few paragraphs, not on celibacy itself but on the feeling of self-worthlessness that he experienced as a young man as a result of receiving no praise from his superiors for his efforts as a teacher. I'm talking about his Belvedere days. He admits he developed self-confidence during the years we were taught by him. His written description of what this was like is dignified but rather sad for what it said about the monstrously unloving male institutions of the time. It starts, “I have been asked what could be meant by ‘By the year 1954 when I was assigned to teach in Gonzaga College my feeling of unworth was almost complete’”.

Interfuse No 115 : Easter 2003

A MAN WHO EMBODIED THE SPIRIT OF ST IGNATIUS : Joe Veale

Anthony Symnondson

Anthony is a member of the British Province. He wrote this article originally for the Catholic Herald, January 24, 2003. It is reprinted here with permission.

Four of the happiest years of my life were spent in Dublin in 1991-5. I was sent to study at the Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology in Ranelagh and lived in the Jesuit community. Ireland was an entirely new and captivating experience. I regarded myself as a foreigner living overseas in a strange, unfamiliar land and made a resolution never to discuss politics, or jump to simplistic conclusions, and see as much of Ireland as possible.

This is a solipsistic start to a tribute to a valued friend, but Fr Joseph Veale SJ, would have appreciated a context and he did much to make me feel welcome. We occupied rooms on the same corridor and although he was shy and retiring and was rarely to be found sparkling at a haustus, we quickly came to know each other. He was insecure in large groups and sometimes found community life trying. Joe's hallmarks were an attractive and unforced holiness, discipline, humanity, and wide culture. He embodied the spirit of St Ignatius at its best and most authentic.

Joe came from a generation that usually entered the novitiate of the Society of Jesus through Jesuit schools. He was born in Dublin in 1921 and was educated at the Christian Brothers' School in Synge Street. He joined the Society at the age of seventeen in 1938. When he taught as a scholastic at Belvedere College his pupils noticed how much kinder and more approachable he was than some others who had come through the system. This was a characteristic that never left him resulted in vocations.

Joe was an inspired schoolmaster and spent eighteen years teaching at Gonzaga College on the South Side of Dublin. He believed that expression was more important than exams, and approached his pupils with high seriousness ameliorated by an interest in the individual. Fr Noel Barber, the Rector of Milltown, who had himself been taught by him at Belvedere, said at his funeral: “As a teacher of English and Religion, he honed his pedagogical skills, sharpened his vision, and developed his philosophy of education. His commitment to excellence in thought and expression, his insistence on the highest standards, , and the breadth and depth of his intellectual interests made him more than a memorable teacher; he was a profound educator”.

Joe believed that the demands of English grammar were not mere tasks but the foundation of a humane life. He contributed to the reform of the Irish Department of Education's English curriculum. I owe him an unexpected debt. Although I had written for years, I was never much good at it. I had composed a dense article for the Irish Arts Review and, after it had been censored by Fr Fergus O'Donoghue, he suggested I showed it to Joe. When it was returned it was transformed, covered in corrections in red ink with helpful notes in the margin, and two pages of analysis showing where I had gone wrong and how it could be improved. It was turned from a tedious slab of detail into prose. I don't know how the spell worked, but from then onwards I realised that I had been taught to write.

In 1972 Joe moved to research and writing in the Spiritual Exercises and the Jesuit Constitutions and he lectured in spirituality at the Milltown Institute. This was not merely an academic exercise but came to embody some of the most valuable work of his life. Joe was a realist and would not undertake tasks that were beyond his powers. If he discovered that he had done so, his professionalism led him to put them aside. He had a profound understanding of the Exercises, went below the surface, and extracted the spirituality from a specific historical interpretation. He emancipated it from an encrusted tradition buried in the nineteenth century and allowed St Ignatius to re-emerge. He strongly resisted the tyranny of ideology. It is planned to found a lectureship in spirituality in the Institute and publish two volumes of selected works in spirituality and culture. They deserve a wide circulation.

Joe was much sought as a friend, confessor, spiritual director and retreat conductor, and he gave the Exercises all over the world. He was an encourager and had the rare gift of investing others with a sense of personal value. But he had few illusions, and wrote and directed with unusual honesty. In a penetrating article published in Doctrine and Life at the height of the abuse scandals in the Irish Church, he controversially lifted the curtain on some diminishing characteristics of the religious life that he had perceived and experienced in his own life and that of others. “Can we imagine, just imagine, what private pain may have been rooted in a complex of loneliness, of isolation, of having no human being to relate to, the desert in the heart, the language of self-denial that twisted into self abasement, the self-hatred, the conviction of worthlessness, the unattended guilt, the rage at being done to, the having no say in the disposition of one's own life, the indignities of impersonal rule, the comfort of dependency that could suddenly reverse into angry rebellion, the living environment that was Spartan, the lack of amenity, the walls denuded of beauty, the 'spiritual' assumptions that dehumanised? And the longing for human contact for touch, for talk, for being listened to, the unavailability of spiritual direction, the ache for tenderness or gentleness?” Only a man open to God could make such admissions. Joe's holiness was forged by the cross. It gave him empathy with others similarly afflicted, and offered hope.

None of this struggle showed outwardly. He enjoyed the theatre and the cinema and could draw metaphysical themes from the unlikeliest sources. He was a delightful companion on expeditions. He looked forward to his annual visits to Boston College where he was eagerly expected. At the end of his life he discovered Africa and India, and was, hopefully, inspired by their vigorous Catholic life. Joe did not grow old. Christ shone through him, and his influence is lasting.

Ward, Séamus, 1935-2011, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/799
  • Person
  • 31 May 1935-22 February 2011

Born: 31 May 1935, Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1953, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 10 July 1968, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1975, St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street
Died: 22 February 2011, St Mary Star of the Sea, Key West, Florida, USA

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

Nephew of Eugene - RIP 1976

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1971 at USF San Francisco, USA (CAL) studying
by 1972 at St Michael’s Bronx NY, USA (NEB) studying

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/seamus-ward-rip/

Seamus Ward RIP
Seamus Ward SJ passed away in Florida yesterday, 22 February. He was staying at St. Mary, Star of The Sea Church, Florida. Earlier, he had had a fall away from the house on 18th February and broken his femur. He was badly shaken and was hospitalised. The doctors advised that he was unlikely to recover. He needed a breathing machine. Fr Conall O’Cuinn, Rector of Milltown Park, and Eoghan, a nephew of Seamus, travelled to the USA on Tuesday 22nd and were met at the airport and taken straight to the hospital. They were waiting for them before removing the breathing machine. There was time for prayers and singing Ag Criost an Siol and Soul of My Saviour. Seamus died very quietly and peacefully about 15 minutes later. May he rest in Christ’s Peace!

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/burying-seamie-2/

Burying Seamie
There was something astonishing about the obsequies of Fr Seamus Ward, whose death was reported in the last AMDG Express. Within the Irish Province he had a low profile,
partly because of his wretched health. He had taught in Bolton Street DIT, and served the Jesuit Refugee Service in Africa. Fr Tom Layden wrote of his “pioneering spirit, inquiring mind and independence of outlook”: a kind man, with an attitude of welcome and encouragement for those around him. He worked out of weakness, a real pastoral asset with which people could identify. His two funerals, one in Florida where he served a parish, the other in Gonzaga chapel, were memorable events, crowded with his kith and kin and friends who loved him and grieved deeply. In death as in life Seamus could spring a surprise.

◆ Interfuse No 145 : Summer 2011 & ◆ The Clongownian, 2011

Obituary

Fr Séamus (Seamie) Ward (1935-2011)

31st May 1935: Born in Dublin
Early education at Clongowes Wood College
7th Sept. 1953: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1955: First Vows at Emo
1955 - 1958: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1958 - 1961: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1961 - 1964: Belvedere College - Teacher
1964 - 1968: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
10th July 1968: Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1968 - 1969: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1969 - 1970: Rathfarnham - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
1970 - 1972: Fordham, USA-Studied Sociology; Assisted in Holy Family Parish, NY
1972 - 1974: Rathfarnham - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
1974 - 1978: John Austin House - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
2nd February 1975: Final Vows
1978 - 1979: Campion House - Chaplain in DIT
1979 - 1982: Rathfarnham - Curate in Wicklow parish
1982 - 1985: Dolphin's Barn - Parish Curate
1985 - 1986: Clongowes - Sabbatical year
1986 - 1988: Clongowes - Assistant Librarian
1988 - 1989: Ethiopia - Jesuit Refugee Service
1989 - 1991: Belvedere College - Refugee work: Cairo, JRS Rome and Ethiopia
1991 - 1992: Working with refugees in Sierra Leone and Somalila
1992 - 1994: Working with refugees in Mali
1994 - 2005: Belvedere College - Pastoral care of refugees.
2005 - 2011: Milltown Park - Parish Chaplaincy, USA
22nd February 2011: Died in Florida USA

Fr Seamus was at St. Mary, Star of The Sea Church, Florida. He had a fall away from the house on 18th February and broke his femur. He was badly shaken and was hospitalised. The doctors advised that he was unlikely to recover. He needed a breathing machine. Fr Conall O Cuinn, Rector of Milltown Park, and a nephew of Seamus’, Eoghan, travelled to the USA on Tuesday 22nd and were met at the airport and taken straight to the hospital. They were waiting for them before removing the breathing machine. There was time for prayers and singing Ag Críost an Siol and Soul of My Saviour. Seamus died very quietly and peacefully about 15 minutes later. May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

Obituary by Brendan Duddy and Noel Barber
Seamie Ward was one of 8 children. He had 5 brothers and 2 sisters who were at the heart of his life. He had a marvellous relationship with his siblings and with their children. I got to know him during our time in UCD. When I arrived in Rathfarnham, he took me under his wing and showed me the ropes. The regime was tight and he found the rules of the house somewhat oppressive but he did not take them too seriously. We all felt that we did not have enough time for study; most of us accepted this state of affairs but he did not. He would put his umbrella over his bedside lamp and read through Troilus and Cressida into the night. Serious would have been his fate had he been caught. While others dutifully made off on bikes on special free days, he usually had other ideas, bringing me on one occasion to the Shelbourne Hotel where his father awaited us and ordered toast in a magnificent silver bowl and coffee laced with brandy.

In days when it was presumed that one had to avoid any reading of material that was not 'wholesome', he had the nerve to borrow Joyce's Ulysses in the ritual brown paper bag which the kind librarian passed surreptitiously under the counter, On more regular lines he introduced me to O'Casey's plays and to Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. He took a good degree in English, enjoyed the literary delights that were on offer and ignored what was not to his taste. There was an iconoclastic side to him which to some looked as if he saw all authority as authoritarian. There was a shyness which he concealed with a brusqueness that could be disconcerting but he was true gold as a friend. Philosophy in Tullabeg followed where the isolated life did not entirely suit him and literature rather than philosophy captured his interest but doing what was necessary he got through without much effort albeit with little joy but used his time to indulge his literary tastes and to make many excursions, licit and illicit. I then went to Zambia and he to Belvedere where an observer noted that he showed remarkable administrative talents as an assistant to the Prefect of Studies, the formidable Jack Leonard, whose approval and fulsome praise he won. He proved to be a severe disciplinarian and an exacting task master who exercised his authority with a firm hand. However, he won the admiration of the pupils if not their lasting affection. It was noticeable that a number of middle aged men turned up to his funeral – his former pupils from his Belvedere days; they remembered him with something approaching reverence.

His years in Theology were not entirely happy and a contemporary of his considered that his attitude towards authority hardened and he ended up asking to have his ordination postponed to the end of his fourth year. Following his Tertianship in 1968-69 he spent one year in the Dublin Institute of Theology, Bolton Street, before going to Fordham where he took an MA in Sociology. He then returned to Bolton Street where he remained until 1979. I worked with him there and once again he was my mentor and guide. He introduced me to all sorts of people: porters, sweepers, electricians, cooks, his friends in Sean Mc Dermot Street where I became life-long friends with his friends. With these people he was Newman's Perfect Gentleman at ease with all and generous with his time and energy to a fault. He took particular care of foreign students helping them to find their feet. He then spent 3 years (1979-82) as a curate in Wicklow. There he was wonderful with the children, the old folks and with pre-marriage couples. For recreation he took to the joys of sailing, most often with his brother. He moved to Dolphin's Barn in 1982 where he had three not very happy years. He became somewhat restless and spent a few years in Clongowes during which he was unfocused and dispirited.

Then he opened up a new life for himself with the Jesuit Refugee Service from 1988 to 1994. He served in Cairo, Ethiopia, Sierra Leone, Somalia and Mali. A person who knew him well in his JRS days commented on his remarkable ability to live in the most austere circumstances, and to accept the hardship and isolation of his assignments without complaint, his great love and devotion to the poor and the weak and the excessive physical demands he made on himself. On the other hand it was noted that for one of his ability and sterling work he lacked self-confidence to a surprising degree and showed that below the surface there could be strong anger which would occasionally flare.

In 1994 he returned to live in Belvedere as a sick man in the grip of severe emphysema but he found a modus vivendi. To avoid the wet, cold Irish winter he began to do supply parish work in California and then Florida where he flourished as he did in Wicklow years before. He devoted himself to the poor and the weak; he gave of his time and people took the chance to pour out their hearts to him and he listened, gave sound advice and became the wise old man.

In the midst of his successful apostolate, he had a fall, went into hospital where, because of his underlying condition, an operation was out of the question. Inevitably he took a bad turn and died quietly and peacefully. As a Jesuit, he was not prominent and was never well known in the Province but despite his difficult middle years and the poor health of his later years he achieved a great deal at the frontiers.