Born: 01 August 1921, Glin, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1939, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1953, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 15 August 1959, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 21 February 1995, St Joseph’s, Shankhill, County Dublin

Part of the Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin community at the time of death.

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1963 at St Ignatius Chicago IL, USA (CHG) studying

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 86 : July 1996
Obituary
Fr Seán Casey (1921-1995)

1st Aug. 1921: Born in Glin, Co. Limerick
Education: Clongowes Wood College
7th Sept. 1939; Entered Society at Emo, Co. Laois
8th Sept. 1941: First Vows at Emo
1941 - 1942: Rathfarnham - Arts at UCD
1942 - 1943: Supplying at Clongowes, Belvedere, Mungret
1943 - 1946: Philosophy at Tullabeg, Co. Offaly
1946 - 1948: Rathfarnham - Arts at UCD
1948 - 1950: Regency at Crescent College, Limerick
1950 - 1954: Theology at Milltown Park
31st July 1953: Ordained Priest at Milltown Park by Archbishop J.C. McQuaid
1954 - 1958: Teacher - Crescent College, Limerick
1958 - 1959: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1959 - 1962: Teacher, Spiritual Father - Crescent College, Limerick
1962 - 1963; Studied Counselling in Chicago, USA
1963 - 1965: Teacher of Philosophy - Apostolic School, Mungret, Doctorate Studies in Philosophy
1965 - 1966: Teacher of Philosophy - Rome, Doctorate Studies in Philosophy
1966 - 1967: Teacher of Philosophy - Apostolic School, Mungret, Doctorate Studies in Philosophy
1967 - 1969: Spiritual Father and Adult Education - Crescent College, Limerick
1969 - 1972: Ministered in Sacred Heart Church, Limerick and Adult Education
1972 - 1973: Lecturer in Philosophy - Milltown Institute
1973 - 1975: Director of Adult Education - Limerick
1977 - 1980: CLC.
1980 - 1985: Chaplain - "Eye & Ear" Hospital, Dublin
1985 - 1990: Cherryfield Lodge
1990 - 1995: Kilcroney Nursing Home and St. Joseph's Centre, Crinken Lane, Shankill, Co. Dublin
21st Feb. 1995: Died

The words of our Gospel just read really startle us. They contradict our worldly experience and scale of judgements. “Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted”. This does not make sense to us when we feel a great loss and are confronted by the awe and mystery of death. Yet, I think, that it is only in the experience of bereavement that we can come to understand the meaning and truth of these words. For there is a blessedness in mourning that can bring us comfort.

We mourn because we have loved and lose and are loved. And St. John has told us that those who love, live in the light.

When we mourn, we support each other, often in silent, unobtrusive ways. That love between us is a truly blessed thing, for it tells us that God is really present among us and walks with us in our grief.

When we mourn, we often think and talk about the one who is no longer with us. Incidents in his life are recalled, words he spoke, humourous sayings, mannerisms or incidents. This fills out the picture of a person's character and life. But such memories are private recollections, intimate and personal, not shared in public - because they are sacred. But they nourish love. They are a comfort.

When we mourn, we learn what the really important things in life are and accept that suffering and the cross touches every life. We come to understand that a person's worth is not measured by success in life or achievements. It rests on their relationship with God and others, by their sincerity, goodness and generosity.

These were qualities Sean possessed in a remarkable degree. He was blessed with a keen, subtle mind. He loved study and was considered to be a person who would achieve great things in the academic world of philosophy. But ill health constantly interfered with his studies. He had to turn to less burdensome, apostolic work which he pursued with all his kindness and skill.

Then he had the terrible accident that rendered him incapacitated for the remainder of his life.

But I never heard him complain. When I visited him in hospital, I saw many of the beatitudes reflected in his demeanour, gentleness, a poverty of spirit that prevented him from criticizing anybody, Jesuit or non-Jesuit. But frequently I heard him expressing gratitude, especially for the care and kindness he received from the Staff and Community in Kilcroney and St. Joseph's. The patients, too, felt at ease with him, "I like Fr. Casey," a patient said to me the last time I was with him, only two days before he died. "I'd like to meet him and talk with him." This was Sean's apostolate over the last few years as he offered himself daily to be one with the Lord. It is in qualities such as these that true greatness is achieved.

The last great comfort that mourning brings us is that it widens our horizons. Our Lord seems to take us away from the narrow confines of a hospital bed and takes us, as it were, to a cliff-top and directs us to look out at a vast expanse of ocean where death and life intermingle, where love in time flows into love in eternity. Those we love never die. “He that eats my flesh and drinks my blood shall live for ever” Christ said. This, surely, is the greatest comfort for all who mourn.

Paul Leonard SJ

◆ The Clongownian, 1995
Obituary
Father Seán Casey SJ

Seán Casey was born on the first day of August in 1921 in Glin, Co. Limerick. After school he joined the Jesuits in Emo and took his First Vows there two years later on 8 Sep tember 1941. He broke off his Arts studies, pursued at UCD while living at Rathfarnham Castle; to help out in his old school and, also spent spells in Belvedere and Mungret. From there, he proceeded to Philosophy at Tullabeg and only when he had completed this part of his course in 1946 did he return to Rathfarnham and UCD and complete his Arts degree.

With one year's “regency”, as a Jesuit's years as a teaching scholastic are known, already behind him, Seán spent only two more at the “chalk-face”, this time back in his native Limerick, at the Crescent. He then went on to Milltown Park for the regulation four years of Theology and was ordained after three, on 31 July 1953, by the late Archbishop John Charles McQuaid.

He went back to the Crescent to teach in 1954 and remained at this work and that of Spiritual Father until 1962, with just one intermission, in 1958, when he made his Tertianship at Rathfarnham.

As the Second Vatican Council was ushering in a new era for the Church in the autumn of 1962, Seán headed west to study counselling in Chicago. Immediately afterwards, he went to Mungret to teach Philosophy in the Apostolic School and begin his own doctoral studies in Philosophy, which he later pursued in Rome. After a final year in Mungret, he moved once more to the Crescent, when the work of the Apostolic School ended.

For the next five years, he engaged in Adult Education, acted as Spiritual Father in the school (1967-69) and ministered in the Sacred Heart Church (1969-72). A further five years were devoted to teaching Philosophy in the Milltown Institute (1972-3 and 1975-77) and filling the role of Director of Adult Educaiton in Limerick (1973-75). After that Seán worked for the Christian Life Communities movement (formerly the Sodality of Our Lady) for three years and then, in 1980, took up chaplaincy at the Eye and Ear Hospital in Dublin.

Seán's own health, never robust, failed in the last period of his life. He spent five years at the Jesuit infirmary, Cherryfield Lodge, and then, in 1990, when the need for more intensive care arose, he went to Kilcroney Nursing Home. He died peacefully at St Joseph's Centre, Crinken Lane, Shankill, Co, Dublin, where Kilcroney had been transferred, on 21 February 1995.

Seán Casey was a humble, even diffident man, whose considerable intellectual gifts were often concealed by his diffidence. His various postings in Dublin and Limerick gave him opportunities to deploy his gifts for study and teaching and the gentle listening which was one of his marked characteristics. May he rest in peace.

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.

Born: 24 October 1929, Dublin City, County 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 Mission 1880- 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 21st 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

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

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Dunne SJ: funeral homily

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. 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.

3. 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

Born: 01 July 1929, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1946, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1960, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1964, Chiesa del Gesù, Rome, Italy
Died: 11 December 1989, Milltown Park, Dublin

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1963 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying

◆ Interfuse No 82 : September 1995 & ◆ The Clongownian, 1989

Obituary
Fr Jim Healy (1929-1993)

1st July 1929: Born in Dublin. Schooled in Clongowes
7th Sept. 1946; Entered Society of Jesus Emo,
1946 - 1948; novitiate
1948 - 1951: Rathfarnham, juniorate: BA (UCD) in French and English
1951 - 1954: Tullabeg, philosophy
1954 - 1957: Regency: 1954-'56 Clongowes, 1956-57 Belvedere
1957 - 1961: Milltown Park, theology
1960: Ordained a priest,
1961 - 1962: tertianship Rathfarnham
1962 - 1964: Rome, biennium in moral theology.
2nd Feb. 1964: at the Gesù, final vows before Fr. Vicar General John L. Swain.
1964 - 1989; Milltown Park, professor of moral theology (after 1978 his area was referred to as practical theology). Meanwhile, 1968-'77, he served as the first President of Milltown Institute. He took two sabbaticals, 1977-78 and 1988.
11th Dec. 1989 Jim died suddenly in class at Milltown Park.

Last Monday at 12.15pm I had my last conversation with Jim Healy, before he and I turned in to the last class of the day - and I am glad to say that it was a piece of light-hearted banter. I don't have to tell you how I felt on coming out of that class and receiving the news of his death,.

Since then, inevitably, my mind has been turning back to the time when I first came across him. It was some time in the school year 1943-144, when we were both boys in the same school. I was a very insignificant newcomer, and he was one of the stars of the school. In that year the school had entered the rugby Junior cup for the first time ever, and was indeed to win the cup, beating Belvedere 13-3 in the final. Jim was one of the main scorers on that team. Looking back over the school magazine yesterday, I came across this account of their first match:

"O'Hara broke away from the line-out with James Healy and Dick Muldoon in attendance; his pass in to James Healy was beautifully timed. James shook off several pursuers and scored between the posts, adding the extra points himself. Practically the same performance was repeated a few minutes later, when James Healy, backing up splendidly, scored once more."

Last Monday Jim scored between the posts and converted once again.

I have used the phrase “the last class”. It is a phrase with a ring to it. People who have never been to boarding-school can have no idea of the joy at the end of term and at the last class, especially in the Spartan days of a previous generation. For a small boy it was the very threshold of heaven. Perhaps it is not too fanciful to regard the parable in today's gospel, Mt 25:31 ff., as a kind of last class which the Lord will give to all of us at the end of the term in this world. This gospel passage is one of the most telling in the New Testament about the content of that last class and that last examination. It will focus, as we see, on how we serve one another, and the people of Milltown Institute and Milltown Community have no doubt but that, on that criterion, Jim passes with flying colours. Jim himself is the last one who would like this homily to become a panegyric of his virtues and achievements. As Jim's successor in the presidency of Milltown Institute, I am more conscious than most of how much the Institute owes to him, its first president. As the present president said the other day, it was Jim who gave the Institute its shape. It is indeed his monument. Fr. Rector has already spoken of his life. It is of his death, and of the Christian approach to death, that I would like to speak.

For most of us the notion of our death is only a shadowy concept. Only in the death of friends, and in the death of those we love, does it become something of an experience. This is why such deaths can be very special moments of revelation to us, occasions when God says something personal to each one. I am asking myself what might God be saying to us today, and I suggest that it has something to do with the Christian attitude to death,

There is only one freedom, namely, to come close to an understanding with death. So wrote Camus. He went on: “To believe in God is to accept death. When you have accepted death, then the problem of God has been resolved; not the other way round”. Most of us run away from the thought of death. We insulate ourselves against it by stigmatising it as morbid talk. Certainly Jim Healy did not do that.

He had known for a number of years that death was on the cards for him, Those of us who lived close to him can testify to the magnificent Christian faith by which he came to terms with his lot and could face life with cheerful good humour. The great moral theologian, St. Alphonsus Ligouri, has written that to accept death willingly is more efficacious than any other mortification. The best testimony to a life of faith and unselfishness is the grace of peace in the face of death. The poet might speak of 'the dreadful outer brink of obvious death.' It takes faith to look death in the eye and to disarm him of his menaces. Such an attitude is the fruit of a life well lived. The best signs of grace here below come ordinarily, not in dramatic displays of piety or mortification, but in the bits and pieces of a life lived in unassuming loyalty and dedication, in cheerfulness and concern for others, and when such a life is lived on the brink of obvious death, then these signs are indeed signals of resurrection.

By the fact of Jim Healy's death, I, and my brethren in the community, my colleagues in the Institute and its students, are moved by a deep sense of loss. We will miss him sorely. In this way we know that we share in something of what his family must feel, and to them we extend our profoundest sympathy. But I have to say that looking at the lessons of Jim's last years, and in particular at the way he faced death, I realise that we must not allow that sense of loss to linger in grieving but to be turned into thanksgiving for a life well lived and into a desire to follow him in his Christian hope.

Jim Healy taught many people many things during his life. I am sure that the students in the classroom with him last Monday will never forget the experience. But really the last lesson of Jim's life was not what he taught them in that final half-hour, but the lesson he has for all of us on how the Christian faces death. This really was Jim Healy's last class.

Ray Moloney

Born: 01 October 1931, Limerick City, County Limerick/Galway, County Galway
Entered: 07 September 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1963, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1967, Chiesa del Gesù, Rome, Italy
Died: 21 August 2000, Staten Island, New York NY, USA

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

Educated at Coláiste Iognáid SJ

by 1966 at Rome Italy (ROM) studying

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 105 : Special Edition 2000

Obituary

Fr William (Billy) Kelly (1931-2000)

1931, Oct1st: Born in Limerick
Early education at St. Ignatius College, Galway.
1949, 7th Sept: Entered the Society at Emo
1951, 8th Sept: First vows at Emo
1951 - 1954: Rathfarnham - Arts at UCD
1954 - 1957: Tullabeg - Philosophy
1957 - 1960: Coláiste lognáid, Galway - Teacher
1960 - 1964: Milltown Park - Theology
1963, July 31st: Ordained priest at Milltown Park
1964 - 1965: Tertianship at Rathfarnham Castle
1965 - 1968: Rome - Studied Canon Law
1968 - 2000: Professor of Canon Law at the Milltown Institute; working at the Dublin Diocesan Marriage Tribunal
2000, Aug 21st: Died Staten Island, New York

Billy suffered from angina and had heart surgery a number of years ago. He spent part of his summer each year on supply in a parish in the U.S.A. It was while he was there that he suffered a heart attack and died at Staten Island on 21st August 2000.

Michael Hurley SJ gave the homily at the funeral mass for Fr. Billy Kelly, at Milltown Park on Monday September 4 2000...

Euge, euge!

My reason for making the unusual choice of the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-17, 19-23) as our gospel reading this morning is precisely because the text I wanted to have for my homily occurs in it and not just once but twice. Some of you will have noticed that I shortened the passage and omitted all reference to the servant who received one talent and buried it, hid it in the ground. I did so of course because I didn't want us distracted with questions about the meaning of the parable as a whole, much less with questions about the treatment of the servant who had received the one talent. I wanted us to concentrate and focus all our attention and interest on those great, glorious evangelical words which I am taking as my text: Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord, come and share the joy, the happiness of your Lord.

I can think of no more appropriate words for this occasion. These were surely the words which the choirs of angels and the whole court of heaven were singing on Monday afternoon last - and it was probably in the afternoon about 3 o'clock rather than in the evening about 8 o'clock - when Billy made his surprised entry. As we'll be reminded once again at the end of this Mass, the funeral liturgy explicitly invites us to imagine the angels and saints leading and escorting and welcoming Billy into paradise, into the holy city, to the bosom of Abraham, to the supper of the Lamb, to meet our Lord and his Mother, to sit down at table with them at the banquet feast which is heaven. Figuring prominently of course among the welcoming party will have been Billy's father and his mother to whom he was particularly devoted especially as he was an only child; and Billy's favourite saints but he was so private a person that we don't know their names and also his favourite Jesuit friends who have gone before him to prepare a place for him. Some of these however we do know. Denis Flannery will certainly have been in the front row, Denis, Billy's contemporary and missionary in Zambia on whom he lavished such tender loving care the year before last in Cherryfield when Denis was dying; and Dicky Butler, his headmaster when he was a young Jesuit scholastic in Galway (1957-60). Dicky was so kind that Billy broke the strange resolution he made after his mother's death; never to visit Galway again . When Dicky died he did go back to attend the funeral. Dicky, it is not perhaps inappropriate to recall, was a fellow conservative. He did read The Tablet but only, as Dicky himself would tell you good humouredly, to find out what they were up to in the enemy camp!

But what were the angels singing on Monday afternoon- and what are they still singing? Well what I hear them singing and what I invite you to hear are the words of my text from Matthew's gospel: 'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord, come and share the joy of thy Lord'. All the words of this refrain are of course important but the first are of some particular interest, especially if we consult the Latin and Greek versions which the angels will surely know and with which many of you will be quite familiar. The “Well Done” of the English version is of course “euge” in the Latin and “eu” in the Greek. So in the Greek and the Latin the first word of the Scripture text for my homily this morning is none other than the first syllable of that dreaded word 'eulogy': dreaded at least in the context of a funeral liturgy not only by canonists and bishops and by Billy himself both personally and professionally because he was so completely self effacing, he had so sadly convinced himself he didn't deserve any praise or recognition.. But that of course was in his previous earth-bound existence when the thought of a eulogy especially by the likes of me would have appalled him. In heaven however life is changed; he no longer sees as in a glass darkly. An evangelical, heavenly eulogy is different. And all we on earth are trying to do this morning is what we do every day at mass : joining our voices with those of the angels, joining in their hymn of praise, in their eulogy of God and his blessings and his gifts which of course is what all our merits and talents and all Billy's merits and talents really are.

Billy was greatly loved and widely loved. He was a charmer and everyone was very fond of him. Mgr Gerry Sheehy rang me on Tuesday afternoon to express his sympathy. “Billy”, he said, “Billy was loved here in our place. We were devastated at the news of his sudden death”. Mgr Sheehy was speaking about the offices of the Marriage Tribunal in Archbishop's House here in Dublin. Billy worked there most Fridays of the year. In between the perfectionist in him agonised over judgements he had to prepare: he was so careful and painstaking and he laboured under the handicap of not being able to type and finding it difficult to put pen to paper - writing was never his forte.

Billy was certainly a good and faithful servant of his Lord' in the work of the Marriage Tribunal. But what Mgr Sheehy said about the Marriage Tribunal was of course reechoed here in the Milltown Institute. The death notice in the staff room spoke tenderly of Billy as “a dear friend as well as colleague and in the first reading from the Book of Wisdom the Registrar, feeling like all of us the grievous loss which Billy's death is and finding it difficult not to identify with the 'unwise, was clearly making her own both personally and officially their sentiments about Billy's death “looking like a disaster”.

Billy had taught canon law here since 1968. It was not the subject he would personally have chosen for specialisation had he been given the choice. But he wasn't, and being an obedient as well as a faithful servant of his Lord he accepted and made himself an expert in this forbidding, despised field. After doing doctoral work in Rome he became a competent and devoted teacher here. He was always well prepared for class and at a critical period in the Church's history when canon law was in disrepute he succeeded in engaging the interest and indeed the affection of his students many of whom are here present today. He was a popular teacher especially with his non-Irish, his foreign students.

In the Milltown Institute Billy was also the founder and first director of the Spiritual Studies Programme and outside the Institute he was much in demand for consultancy work. So very many of Billy's professional colleagues and students past and present are sadly but also happily joining in the angels' refrain: Well Done Good and Faithful Servant.

Voices from the USA and elsewhere join the chorus too, Every Summer for the past 17 years Billy has done a supply in the Blessed Sacrament Parish in Staten Island, New York. The Pastor reports that the appearance in the parish in mid June this year of another visiting priest raised fears that Billy was not coming this time and a deluge of callers to the Presbytery were greatly relieved to hear their fears were in vain. On Saturday the former pastor, Bishop Ahern, was to have presided at a funeral mass in the parish but was prevented at the last minute. The present pastor Mgr Francis Boyle presided instead and, preaching the homily, spoke in glowing terms of the esteem in which Billy was held. I had the opportunity of speaking on the phone with the Pastor and with the parish secretary, Rosemary: they both spoke very highly of Billy. Rosemary was probably the last person to see him alive - on Monday about 1 p.m. in a local store buying, I'm afraid, the inevitable : cigarettes! She had offered him a lift back to the presbytery but he declined, preferring to walk. Rosemary and all in the Blessed. Sacrament parish of Staten Island happily join the angelic chorus as they sing to Billy: Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.

What about the Milltown Park Jesuit Community? Billy lived here from 1960 to 1964 while he studied theology and incidentally had to suffer me as one of his teachers. Then after his tertianship as it's called in the Jesuit curriculum vitae jargon and after doctoral work in Rome Billy came back to live here again while he carried on his teaching and consultancy work in the field of canon law. No man is a hero to his valet; no Jesuit is a hero in his own community. But like the Marriage Tribunal and the Milltown Institute and the Blessed Sacrament Parish in Staten Island we too can truly say: Billy was well loved here. We too join with the angels in saying: 'Euge, eu , well done good and faithful servant enter into the joy of our common Lord'. Billy will be sorely missed here in the Milltown Park community for his kindness, his readiness to listen, for his shrewd advice, for his outspoken honesty, for the spirited exchanges he loved to stimulate. His death leaves a void, a void which can never be filled.

What became very clear to us here in the community, what today's congregation confirms is Billy's huge capacity for friendship, his wide circle of friends lay and clerical, men and women.. He was of course a man of broad interests (particularly well informed on world affairs) and of exquisite taste---not least in music. More significantly however he was utterly generous in giving his time, his gifts, his expertise, in giving himself to others, face to face or on the phone. He was generous - some of us thought to a fault. He spent hours and hours, days and days helping people in trouble, extricating them from the difficult situations in which their own imprudence or the entanglements of canon law had got them involved. His personal compassion and his professional epieikeia combined to make him a great benefactor. He spent himself and was spent for others.

But Billy's most remarkable and most endearing gift was what I would call his magnanimity: his capacity to put people themselves first, to put their isms very much in second place if any place at all. This magnanimity, as I saw and experienced it, is a spiritual gift analogous to that of forgiveness. In principle forgiveness enables us to love the sinner, the offender without ever condoning the sin, while indeed hating the sin, the offence. This is of course much easier said than done and as a result much more often said than done. Billy's magnanimity was somewhat similar to forgiveness: it meant he could have close friends whose views he did not share, whose views indeed he rejected. He didn't suffer fools gladly but he could and did suffer gladly some of us who differed from him. It is said of St John (St Polycarp tells the story) that he fled the baths in alarm one day on finding the heretic Cerinthus there. “Let us flee”, John is said to have cried out. “let us flee lest the baths collapse since the enemy of truth is here”. Unlike St John - in this at least - Billy had no fear that the community quarters here in Milltown would collapse because I was there and others like me who differed from him. Billy and I coexisted amicably and indeed affectionately, if at times furiously. He was no great ecumenist and he had no great love for Northern Ireland. He would never visit there though he did once allow himself to be driven through to get the boat at Larne. But despite my ecumenism and despite my concern for reconciliation in Northern Ireland, despite what he was prone to see or affected to see as my ecumania or my Protestantism and unionism, Billy and I remained good friends! It is with great sadness but also with great happiness that I join the angelic chorus as they sing their evangelical, heavenly eulogy: Euge, serve bone et fidelis-well done good and faithful servant, well done, Billy, come and share the joy of our Lord.

Those who make the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius hear Christ in the meditation on the Kingdom addressing them in these words: 'It is my will to conquer the whole world and all my enemies. Therefore whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be willing to labour with me, that by following me in suffering, he may follow me in glory”. Billy made these Spiritual Exercises and that meditation which comes at the beginning of the Second Week. He heard that call and answered with great generosity wishing indeed with God's help to 'distinguish himself in the service of Christ his Lord and King. But he heard the call not just once away back in 1949 when he made his first Long Retreat with Donal O'Sullivan as a Jesuit novice in Emo . He heard it daily ever since and answered it - less emotionally perhaps but no less generously. So the angelic chorus which sang him into heaven on Monday were simply indicating the fulfilment of the promise made by Christ the King: Billy having followed him in labours and in suffering as a Jesuit for fifty one years would now follow him in glory; would now share his joy, his peace : “Well done, good and faithful servant... Come, take possession of the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world” (cf Mt 25:34).

Michael Hurley, SJ

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 born 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 learn 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 journey, 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 entertained 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 unondescendingly conveyed 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 genuine 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

Born: 23 March 1931, Clonaslee, County Laois
Raised: Loughloon and Drummindoo, Westport, County Mayo
Entered: 07 September 1959, St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1969, St Mary’s, Westport, Co Mayo
Final Vows: 11 June 1980, Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
Died: 23 January 2023, Mayo University Hospital, Castlebar, County Mayo

Part of the St Francis Xavier, Gardiner Street Community at the time of death

FSS
Born : 23rd March 1931 Clonaslee, Co Laois
Raised : Loughloon and Drummindoo, Westport, Co Mayo
Early Education at Portumna NS, County Galway; Brackloon NS, Westport,County Mayo; CBS NS Westport, County Mayo; CBS Secondary School, Westport, County Mayo; Cadet School, Curragh, County Kildare; Commissioned officer in Defence Forces, 3rd Curragh Batallion
7th September 1959 Entered Society at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
8th September 1961 First Vows at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
1961-1962 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1962-1965 Leuven, Belgium - Studying Philosophy at Heverlee
1964 Leuven, Belgium - Studying Social & Political Science at Katholieke Universiteit
1965-1966 Kent, OH, USA - Studying Sociology at Newman Centre, Kent State University
1966-1970 Milltown Park - Studying Theology; Lecturing in Sociology at Milltown Institute and CIR;
National Chaplain to Pax Christi
31st July 1969 Ordained at St Mary’s, Westport, Co Mayo
1970-1998 Sandford Lodge, CIR - Lecturing at UCD; Consult in Research & Development at CCI
1971 Lecturer in Sociology at St Patrick’s College (NUI), Maynooth; Visiting Lecturer at UCD, Milltown Park, & CIR
1974 Research Fellow Ford Foundation: University of Michigan and UCD
1978 Tertianship in Tullabeg
1979 Guardian Máméan Pilgrim Shrine; Secretary Inter County Railway Committee
11th June 1980 Final Vows at Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin
1988 Editing ‘Memoirs of Monsignor Horan (1911-1986) published in 1992
1992 Chair Pioneer Total Abstinence Association Board
1994 President of Aontas
1996 Pastoral Research in Archdiocese of Tuam (‘Quo Vadimus’ Report; Academic Associate NUI Maynooth
1998-2023 Gardiner St - Pastoral research Diocese of Meath (Report ‘Our Living Church’ 2005) – Residing partly at Loughloon, Westport, Co Mayo
2007 Director of National Survey of Intergroup Attitudes (NUI Maynooth)
2010 Research for Memoir “The Ongoing Project”
2012 Survey of Attitudes and Practices in relation to Tourism in Westport
2014 Guardian of Máméan Pilgrimage Shrine; Survey Research Director NUI Maynooth College; Pastoral Supply work
2015 Research for PTAA Book “Abstaining for Love”
2016 Researching own publications and sermons
2017 Guardian Máméan Pilgrim Shrine; Survey Research NUI; Pastoral Supply Work
2018 + Séiplínach do Ghaelscoil, Cill Dara
2021 + Pastoral Assistant in Aughagower & Cushlough Parish, Tuam Diocese

Jesuit whose influential research spanned decades of social change
“There is only one race, the human race” was one of the many memorable apho- risms of Micheál Mac Gréil: Jesuit priest, long time lecturer in sociology at NUI Maynooth (now Maynooth University), pacifist, defender of prisoners’ rights, friend of Irish Travellers and promoter of the Irish language.

Born in Co Laois but reared in Co Mayo, Mac Gréil – who has died at the age of 91 – is best known for his ground-breaking sociological research, which led to three books – Prejudice and Tolerance in Ireland (1977), Prejudice in Ireland Revisited (1996) and Pluralism and Diversity in Ireland (2011).
His research, based on interviews spanning four decades, recorded the transforma- tion of Ireland from a deeply religious socially conservative community-focused society to a more inclusive yet more individualistic and materialistic country.

In his memoir and social critique of Irish and world affairs, The Ongoing Present (2014), Mac Gréil commented on the impact of his early research. “It made Irish people aware of their prejudices and encouraged them to be more tolerant. This self-awareness would, I believed, do much to undermine some of our more destruc- tive prejudices and result in a better life for our minorities.” But, he added, “we should not be under any illusion with regard to the persistence of racism, sexism, homophobia, ethnocentrism, anti-Semitism, class or religious prejudice.”

Mac Gréil was involved in many causes throughout his long life. He was a member and national chaplain for Pax Christi Ireland – the Irish branch of the international Catholic peace movement. He was chairman of the Pioneer Total Abstinence Asso- ciation, whose members abstain from drinking alcohol. He was also a long time campaigner for the reinstatement of the Western Rail Corridor from Limerick to Sli- go and a passionate advocate for the restoration of the Mám Éan (Maumeen) shrine in the Maamturk mountains in Co Galway.

Award
Following the publication of his first book in 1977, Mac Gréil was invited to the British-Irish conference at the University of Oxford. Later that year, he was the joint awardee of the first Christopher Ewart-Biggs Memorial Peace Prize (British ambassador Ewart-Biggs had been assassinated on his way to work at the embassy in Dublin on July 6th, 1976). In his memoir, he writes about how following that award, he was asked to give up his membership of the Irish language and culture organisation Conradh na Gaeilge. And while this request was later rescinded, Mac Gréil bemoaned the extreme politicisation of that organisation following the out- break of violence in Northern Ireland.

Micheál, born in a log cabin in a forest in Clonaslee, Co Laois, was second of six children of Austin McGreal from Loughloon, Co Mayo, and Máire Ní Chadhain from An Cabhar, An Mám, Co Galway. His father was a forester working for a Scottish timber company and his mother was a nurse who had worked in St Ultan’s Children’s Hospital in Dublin before marriage. Although brought up in a republican household, he later said that his family was never strongly anti-British nor anti- Protestant.

When his father was given responsibility to manage woods throughout Munster, parts of Leinster and Connacht, the family moved first to Portumna, Co Galway for four years and then to his father’s family home in Loughloon, Westport, Co Mayo.

Following his secondary school education with the Christian Brothers in Westport, Micheál trained as a shop manager in Dublin and returned to work in Hastings Garage in Westport. In 1950 he joined his older brother Sean as a cadet in the De- fence Forces. He served as an officer in the Third Battalion at the Curragh Camp from 1952-1959, after which he resigned to become a priest.

Mac Gréil joined the Jesuit Noviceship in Emo Park, Co Laois, and was sent to Tul- labeg (Rahen) outside Tullamore, Co Offaly, to study philosophy. In 1962 he was sent to the Jesuit Philosophate at Heverlee, Leuven, in Belgium to continue his studies (through Flemish) to licentiate level.

He went on to study social and political science at the Catholic University of Leuven, where he met Prof Larry Kaplan, professor of American political history at Kent State University in Ohio. Prof Kaplan invited him to that university, where he completed his master’s in sociology and began his study of intergroup relations (that is, social prejudice and tolerance).
Back in Dublin, he completed a four-year course in theology at Milltown Park, during which time he lectured at the Jesuit-run College of Industrial Relations (CIR, later the National College of Ireland) and at the Holy Ghost Fathers missionary college in Kimmage Manor. He was ordained a priest in St Mary’s Church, Westport, in 1969. The following year he started his PhD in sociology at University College Dublin, the thesis for which would later be published as his first book, Prejudice and Tolerance in Ireland.

In 1971, Mac Gréil began working as a junior lecturer in sociology at St Patrick’s College, Maynooth, while continuing to lecture part time at UCD, the Milltown In- stitute and the CIR for the next 10 years. In his memoir, The Ongoing Present, he writes at length about the academic struggles within NUI Maynooth and his own personal tussles with authority during his 25-year career up to his retirement as a senior lecturer there in 1996. A strong advocate of workers’ rights, he was shop steward for the University Teachers Union for nine years during that time.

Mac Gréil’s lifelong dedication to social justice brought him into some ex- traordinary situations. For two consecutive Septembers in 1968 and 1969, he lived on the roadside as a Traveller in disguise to learn about the social, personal and cultural mores of Irish Travellers.

March
Following the Bloody Sunday shooting and killing of civil rights marchers in Derry in January 1972, Mac Gréil joined the Dublin march organised by Irish trade unions that ended up in the burning of the British embassy on Merrion Square, Dublin. In his memoir, he recalls saying, “we came to protest but not to burn”.

As a member of the prisoner’s group in Pax Cristi, he was invited to visit the notori- ous republican prisoner Dominic McGlinchy in Long Kesh prison. He later worked with the Prisoners’ Rights Organisation alongside academics, politicians and barris- ters including Mary McAleese, Michael D Higgins, Gemma Hussey, Una Higgins- O’Malley and Paddy McEntee.
In 1983, Mac Gréil was called as a witness in Senator David Norris’s constitutional case against the criminalisation of homosexuality, given that his research in 1972- 1973 had found that 45 per cent of people in Dublin would favour decriminalisa- tion. He denounced homophobia as one of the most invidious prejudices and be- lieved the Catholic Church should review its pastoral relationship with gay people.

From 1970 to 1998, Mac Gréil lived in the CIR residence in Ranelagh and then moved to the Jesuit community on Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin 1. After his retire- ment he divided his time between academic research in Dublin and pastoral work in Westport.

In his latter years, he spent more time in Mayo, serving as a priest in the Aughagower and Cush Lough parishes in Westport and bringing pilgrims to his beloved Maumeen shrine in north Connemara. In 2021 he published a book, Westport: When Visitors Feel at Home, based on the views of visitors to the town.

At the launch of that book, he called for the democratisation of tourism and the right to annual leave for all, including the unemployed, the poorly paid, people with a disability and those under the poverty line. “In a truly democratic society,” he said, “social tourism, funded by the state primarily, should be the norm.”

Micheál Mac Gréil is survived by his brother Austin, (Fr) Owen and Padraig and members of the Jesuit Community. He was predeceased by his brother Sean and his sister Mary.

Activist was ‘colossus in mind, body and spirit’

Tom Shiel

Well-known Jesuit, sociologist, and social justice activist Micheál Mac Gréil, who died on Saturday at Mayo University Hospital aged 92, was laid to rest yesterday at Aughavale Cemetery in Co Mayo.

Large crowds attended the earlier Requiem Mass in St Mary’s Church, Westport. One of Fr Mac Gréil’s brothers, Fr Owen Mac Gréil was the main celebrant.
Dr Michael Neary, former Archbishop of Tuam, a colleague of Fr Mac Gréil at Maynooth College, delivered the sermon. Journalist and publisher Liamy McNally gave a eulogy.
In his sermon, Dr Neary recalled Fr Mac Gréil’s life as a university lecturer, trade unionist, campaigner for various causes including the revival of the Irish language, the rights of minorities, promotion of the Irish language and the reopening of closed railway lines.

“But he was always primarily a priest,” Dr Neary noted.

Dr Neary went on to describe his late friend’s life as “radical yet profoundly traditional”.

It was radical, he maintained, in the true sense of the word, a life of forging back to the roots of where we came from, back to St Ignatius Loyola, St Patrick and Jesus Christ.
Delivering the funeral eulogy, Liamy McNally described his late friend as “a colos- sus in mind, body and spirit”.

Mission of justice
He continued: “Regardless of opposition, church or State, justice was his mission. He was central to the legal case seeking the decriminalisation of homosexuality.”
“Fr Micheál was ahead of his time”, he remarked.

Mr McNally went on to describe his late friend as a great ecumenist and supporter of women in the church, always wanting women to have more responsibility rather than “little jobeens”.
Éamon Ó Cuív TD delivered the first reading while the second reading was given by Geraldine Delaney, a former student at Maynooth College.

The final prayers were recited by the present Archbishop of Tuam, Dr Francis Duffy.

President Michael D Higgins was represented at the funeral by aide de camp Col Stephen Howard.

https://jesuit.ie/blog/guest-blogger/my-year-with-micheal-mac-greil-sj/

My year with Micheál Mac Gréil SJ

Eoin Garrett

I first met Micheál Mac Gréil SJ (1931-2023) when I was a pupil at Gonzaga College and he was a student of theology in neighbouring Milltown Park. An early sign of his energy and capacity for organizing major projects was evident when he was asked to assist Fr Michael Hurley in promoting Milltown Park’s series of weekly public lectures. The outcome was an overflow of attendances every week! I attended Mícheál’s ordination in Westport in 1969 (by which time I was a Jesuit novice) – “a most memorable event” to quote his own description in his memoir The Ongoing Present (2014).

The main focus of this brief essay, however, is the year I spent working full-time as Micheál’s assistant (1972/73). How this came about need not detain us here. Suffice to say that the year was a more valuable education than the studies I was mismanaging both before and after it. In that year, Micheál was doing the work of several people. He remarks in his memoir that around this time a friend “detected the makings of a ‘workaholic’ in me. So be it. It did not worry me … I used to work night and day with great satisfaction”.

That academic year, he was acting head of the Department of Social Studies in St Patrick’s College, Maynooth (having joined the Department just a year previously). He was also directing research for the Survey of Intergroup Attitudes, the results of which would be the material for his Ph.D. thesis, and would eventually be published as Prejudice and Tolerance in Ireland in 1977.

My role in this was to be an “administrative assistant”, a suitably vague title, which involved among other tasks, driving some of the fourteen interviewers to their interviewees in outlying areas (e.g., Tallaght, where the first new residents had recently arrived), helping to code the information from completed questionnaires, and eventually proof-reading the thesis and the book (I was also to proof-read the follow-up publication, Prejudice in Ireland Revisited, 1996). Micheál was also acting as editor of the Social Studies journal that year, several issues of which I also proof-read.

Some years later, after I left the Jesuits, I was being interviewed for a position in a national institution. A member of the interview board spotted Micheál’s name on my CV and asked what had struck me most about his research findings. I said something about the clear signs of latent racial prejudice, at which another member of the board angrily denied there was any such prejudice in Ireland. The question had little relevance to the job I was seeking. My interview was unsuccessful!

My close contact with Micheál and with his research broadened my mind considerably. His sharp observations in our many conversations, and his clear exposition in his writings of the nature of prejudice have, I hope, helped me to be tolerant of difference and open to listen to opinions I disagree with without dismissing those who hold such opinions.

Once he asked me why my parents had sent me to Gonzaga College. This was a loaded question, as I well knew his views on Jesuits running private fee-paying schools. Fortunately my answer was the only one he could not object to: “it was the local school”!

An unintended consequence of the amount of proof-reading I did that year and subsequently is that I cannot read anything since then without seeing misspellings and typos!

Micheál was National Chaplain of Pax Christi. 1972 was Ireland’s turn to host the annual Pax Christi International Route. This involved groups of young adults of many nationalities and their leaders walking from various starting points for a week and converging on Kilkenny. Each evening they would be hosted by families in the various towns and villages in which they stopped.

Micheál organized this hospitality with military thoroughness, as befitted his pre-Jesuit career as an army officer. We sent letters to each parish priest in the stopover places. Based in the Capuchin Friary in Kilkenny, I then followed up, visiting the parish priests, travelling by-roads within a hundred-mile radius of Kilkenny on my motor-bike. I got to see many parts of the country for the first time, and to meet some great characters among the clergy. The whole operation was, of course, a great success.

These were the main activities I was involved with that year. Micheál himself had countless other commitments, lecturing in UCD and the College of Industrial Relations as well as in Maynooth, involvement in various civic campaigns, and fulfilling frequent speaking engagements. He showed great trust in me to do whatever he asked, mostly without supervision. He was an inspiration to work with and any person who reads his memoir, The Ongoing Present, can only be similarly inspired.

Born: 04 June 1931, Castletroy, Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1948, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 04 September 1962, Kaiserdom Sankt Bartholomäus (Frankfurter Dom), Frankfurt am Main, Germany
Final Vows: 02 February1966, Chiesa del Gesù, Rome, Italy
Died: 09 October 2005, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1962 at Sankt Georgen, Frankfurt (GER I) studying
by 1965 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying
by 1979 at Gonzaga Spokane WA, USA (ORE) teaching
by 1990 at San Salvador, El Salvador (CAM) working
by 1997 at Zomba, Malawi (ZAM-MAL) teaching
by 2001 at Cambridge, MA, USA (NEN) Sabbatical
by 2002 at Venice, CA, USA (CAL) working

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
James McPolin was born in Limerick and educated at the Jesuit Crescent College. In 1948 he entered the Society at Emo and followed the standard course of studies of the Irish province. After a year’s theological studies at Milltown Institute he transferred to Frankfurt a.M. for his final years of theology.

Jimmy as a scholastic always gave the impression of youth and energy. He was deeply interested in sports of all kinds and persuaded those of us studying philosophy with him to build a basket-ball court on which he tutored the ignorant among us in the rules of the game. He sailed through his Jesuit studies effortlessly and we were not surprised when he was sent to the Biblical Institute in Rome for a Doctorate in Sacred Scripture. Thus he lectured in Scripture for 23 years at the Milltown Institute, Dublin, alternating semesters for 3 years with the Biblicum in Rome. Subsequently he also taught scripture at Gonzaga University, Spokane, at the University of Central America (UCA, El Salvador) and at St. Peter’s Seminary in Zomba, Malawi. His textbook on St. John’s Gospel is still very popular with students of scripture.

He was elected as the representative of the Irish Province for the 32nd General Congregation of the Jesuits in Rome in 1975 and was deeply involved in drafting the document of that Congregation on the formation of our young men. He acted as the Irish Provincial’s delegate for formation for many years.

After serving as Dean of the Theology Faculty at Milltown Institute for four years he was appointed as President of the whole Institute. During this time he was transferred to a small community of scholastics living in poor quarters in the centre of Dublin city. During his seven years in that community he showed great concern for the difficulties of the poorer neighbours. His cycling to work every day to and from his office at Milltown, 6 km away, surprised many of his academic colleagues at the Institute.

In 1989 he moved to San Salvador in Central America where he worked as assistant priest in the Jesuit Parish, eventually becoming the Parish Priest. When he first arrived in San Salvador he was invited to visit the University community for a meal and spend the night with them because of the curfew. In fact there was some urgent business in the parish which prevented him from accepting the invitation. That was the night in which the six Jesuits in the University community together with their housekeep and her daughter were murdered by the army. Jimmy thus narrowly escaped sharing their fate.

On his return from San Salvador in 1996 he joined the small group of Jesuits who were teaching at St. Peter’s Seminary at Zomba, Malawi. He first studied the local Chi-Chewa language and then settled into teaching scripture for five semesters.

He had a very good relationship with the Malawian seminarians: he always greeted his class with the word “Wawa” which is a term of great respect in Chewa and which invariably elicited a loud response. He set himself up as coach of the football team and could be seen at half-time surrounded by a ring of players whom he harangued in a good natured way. He also endeared himself to the teaching staff by the jokingly provocative way he would express some outrageous opinion during meals at our ‘round table’ which would immediately spark a lively discussion.

His deep commitment to the Faith and Justice agenda proposed for Jesuits by GC 32 was very obvious in his homilies at the daily Liturgy – he would illustrate his point by telling stories from “a certain parish where I served”. He was referring to the San Antonio Abac parish in El Salvador where he served as parish priest and where one of his predecessors and several young people on retreat had been shot by the military a few years before.

When he returned to Ireland he joined the Belfast community for a year and contributed to their efforts in the reconciliation between opposing factions in Northern Ireland. This was followed by a year’s sabbatical at Cambridge, Mass. and then by three years in the parish at Venice, California where his fluency in Spanish was appreciated by the many hispanic parishioners.

A series of strokes starting in 2004 forced his return to the Irish nursing unit at Cherryfield and he died there on 9 October, 2005.

◆ Irish Jesuit Missions : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/remembering-james-mcpolin-sj/

In his homily at the funeral of James McPolin SJ, Michael O’Sullivan recalls a life dedicated to faith and justice in El Salvador, in Malawi and here in Ireland. He also remembers
Jimmy as a dedicated and innovative president of the Milltown Institute.
About two years ago Jimmy said to me that he felt most alive and of most use during the years he was in El Salvador (1989-96) – despite the awful suffering among the people and the deadly danger that shadowed his own life. He went there straight after his term as President of Milltown Institute (1983-89). He did so because of his commitment to and companionship with the God whose love makes the promotion of justice an absolute requirement.
Jimmy had hardly arrived in the country when six Jesuits, a woman (Elba Julia) and her daughter (Celina), were murdered by an army death squad at the Jesuit residence on the grounds of the University of San Salvador. The Jesuits were murdered because of their commitment to the faith that does justice; the women, who had taken refuge with the Jesuits after their home had been damaged by gunfire, were killed so as to leave no witnesses. Jimmy could have been among the dead that night, 16 November 1989, given that he had deferred accepting an invitation to stay with the Jesuit community at the University until he had spent more time among the ordinary people. (2) Afterwards his concern to see justice done in the case of his dead Jesuit companions and the two women was viewed by him as a way also of promoting justice for the people of the country. In a letter to members of his family in Ireland in 1990 he wrote: “The future of justice is obfuscated by the fact that the trial of the soldiers for the killings is being impeded by false evidence of the military and by the collusion of the American Embassy and Government.” (3)
You may be aware of the memorial bell on the Milltown avenue in front of the Irish School of Ecumenics building. It was put up in honour of those who were killed that night. One of the dead Jesuits, Amando Lopez, had studied theology at Milltown, and was ordained to the priesthood in this chapel. You can see him in the 1965 ordination photo on the corridor outside this chapel. Another of the dead Jesuits, Ignacio Ellacuria, had done part of his Jesuit formation in Dublin as an ordained priest. The memorial bell will also always be a reminder of the third president of the Institute and the values that took him to El Salvador at that time.
Jimmy also narrowly escaped death at a subsequent date when he found himself under the table while army bullets were sprayed around the room. He was the pastor of San Antonio Abad parish, where a predecessor, and several young people on retreat, had been slain by the army in 1979. I stayed with Jimmy and the Jesuit community at San Antonio Abad during part of my time in El Salvador in 1991 and 1992. One day he asked if I would like to see the new houses he was having built for the poor. We headed toward a four wheel drive vehicle. Remembering that Jimmy did not drive in Ireland, and knowing I did not feel like handling such a large vehicle there and then in San Salvador, I asked him who would be our driver. He told me he would drive. He proved to be a very able driver, having become such out of his desire to serve the poor more effectively.
To understand the development of Jimmy’s commitment to economically poor and politically persecuted people it is necessary to know that in 1974-75 the Jesuits worldwide committed themselves to the work of justice as integral to the service of faith and that Jimmy was one of two Jesuits elected by his Irish colleagues to represent them in Rome where that decision was taken. Then in 1980 I asked him as a leading scripture scholar to review a book that was generating a lot of interest at the time, namely, Jose Miranda’s Marx and the Bible. (4) He told me later that reviewing this book led to a quantum leap in his Jesuit commitment to what had been decided in Rome some years earlier. Viewed from the perspective of spirituality as an academic discipline it can be said that his quantum leap of faith was facilitated by the practice of an intense reading experience. Other kinds of practices would evoke, express and enhance his conversion.
In that year, 1980-81, some of us here at the Institute – students at the time – thought the Institute should take an initiative to stop the intended tour of apartheid South Africa by the Irish rugby team. We held an all night vigil at the premises of the IRFU and collaborated with others in organising and taking part in protest marches on the streets. Jimmy, who was the Dean of Theology at the time, was one of very few academic and administration staff to join us. He also went on a placement to Brixton, England, around that time to work with marginalised black people. This commitment to black people reappeared strongly after his years in El Salvador when he went to live and work in Malawi (1997-99). One of his former Malawian students told me that Jimmy was a friend of the poor and oppressed, and that he lived what he taught from the Bible. This was also true of him in Ireland.
During his years as President of Milltown Institute he accepted an invitation from Seamus Murphy, now a member of the Philosophy Faculty, to live in inner city Dublin as a member of the Jesuit community called after Luis Espinal. Espinal was a Catalan Jesuit who had been murdered in Bolivia for his commitment to the faith that does justice. The Espinal community, which had been brought into being in 1980, the year of Espinal’s martyrdom, by Seamus, Kevin O’Higgins, the former Dean of Philosophy, and myself, when we were students at Milltown, and which was joined almost immediately by John Moore, then a Professor and Head of Department at UCD, was committed to simple living, was a friend to the flat dwellers in the local Dublin Corporation estates, and was a meeting place for social action groups. Jimmy used to cycle to and from Milltown in those years. He also participated regularly in protests outside the U.S. embassy against U.S. foreign policy in Central America, protests in which some staff and students at the Institute took a prominent part.
In line with how he understood and lived his faith and scholarship a defining characteristic of his Presidency was the way he enabled the teaching of liberation and feminist theologies to progress in the Institute. He welcomed me on the staff in 1986 and I am grateful to him for the support he gave me to teach these theologies. Una Agnew, the first female head of a programme at the Institute, and now Head of the Dept. of Spirituality, remembers his commitment to improving the situation of women, while Dominique Horgan, now the Archivist, remembers how he initiated the Adult Religious Education programmes, of which she was the first Director. This commitment to adult religious education is also reflected in the fact that during his years as President he taught scripture at the People’s College, which was located near the Espinal community. He did so there in order to reach out to people who at that time would not come to places like Milltown because of their social class, feelings about the Catholic Church, or educational attainment. Jimmy was a great success with such groups.
After his years in Malawi, following his term as President of the Institute, and his years in El Salvador, Jimmy went to Belfast to be in solidarity with those struggling for peace and justice there. During that time he also wrote a series of very fine articles on scripture texts for readers of the Sacred Heart Messenger. Then, given his language skills, and feeling for Latino peoples, he went to California to be a pastor in a parish with a very large Latino population. While there he suffered a stroke, and had to return to Ireland. More strokes followed. He died on October 9th. May he rest in peace, and may we be inspired by the way he lived the Institute motto to bring scholarship to life. Amen. Alleluia!

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 128 : Special Issue June 2006

Obituary

James (Jimmy) McPolin (1931-2005)

4th June 1931: Born in Limerick
Early education at Crescent College, Limerick
7th September 1948: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1950: First Vows at Emo
1950 - 1953: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1953 - 1956: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1956 - 1959: Belvedere - Teacher (Regency)
1959 - 1960: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
1960 - 1963: Frankfurt am Main, Germany - Studied Theology
4th September 1962: Ordained at Frankfurt, Maine
1963 - 1964: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1964 - 1967: Biblical Institute, Rome -D.S.S.
2nd February 1966: Final Vows in Rome
1967 - 1976: Milltown Park -
1967 - 1970: Professor of Sacred Scripture / Rome in alternate semesters
1970 - 1976: Milltown Park - Professor of Sacred Scripture; Superior of Scholastics
1976 - 1977: Betagh House - Professor of Sacred Scripture at Milltown Park
1977 - 1978: Milltown Park - Professor of Sacred Scripture
1978 - 1979: Gonzaga Univ., Spokane, WA, USA - Professor of Sacred Scripture
1979 - 1983: Milltown Park - Professor of Sacred Scripture; Dean Theology Faculty
1983 - 1990: Espinal community -
1983 - 1990: President, Milltown Institute; Lecturer in Sacred Scripture, Writer
1987 - 1990: Superior
1990 - 1998: El Salvador - learning language and parish work
1998 - 1999: Malawi - Lecturer in Sacred Scripture at St. Peter's Seminary
1999 - 2000: Belfast- Ecumenical and Reconciliation Ministry
2000 - 2001: Sabbatical - Faber House, 42 Kirkland Street, Cambridge MA
2001 - 2004: Venice, California - Associate Pastor, St. Mark's Church
2004 - 2005: Gardiner Street - Residing in Cherryfield
9th Oct 2005: Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Father Jimmy McPolin was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on April 5th, 2004 for respite care following a stroke in the USA. While his mobility was poor at times he was self caring for the first six months. Then he was admitted to St. Vincent's Hospital on four occasions, having suffered more strokes. His condition deteriorated over this time and in the last six months to a year he needed full nursing care. In that time his mental state also deteriorated. He was unable to converse and was unaware of his surroundings. However, he did appear to know some of the staff.

Michael O'Sullivan writes:
Jimmy was a fellow Limerick man and past pupil of the old Crescent College. I did not meet him, however, until I went to Milltown to study Philosophy in 1974. I found our first meeting painful. I was struggling to come to terms with life in the Milltown of that era after three years in the company of many women friends at UCD, and he, in his role as “Superior of Scholastics”, did not understand that. But he changed. He was an architect of the Formation document at GC 32 with its focus on “the integrated character of apostolic formation”. He also got in touch with his “inner child” and would express this, for example, by dressing up as Santa Claus at the Christmas staff party in Milltown Institute in an effort to lighten up what could be an over sombre atmosphere. His preference to dress in grey rather than the customary clerical black meant that on one occasion at least he was taken for a Protestant minister. This happened when he visited my mother, who did not know him at the time. When she answered the door to him and lie asked her if she was Mrs. O'Sullivan, she replied that, yes, she was, but that she was a Catholic!

In a conversation with Jimmy about two years before he died he said to me that he felt most alive and of most use during the period he was in El Salvador (1989-96) - despite the awful suffering among the people and the deadly danger that shadowed his own life. He went there after his term as President of Milltown Institute (1983-89). He did so because of his commitment to and companionship with the God whose love makes the promotion of justice an absolute requirement. Jimmy had hardly arrived in the country when six Jesuits, a woman (Elba Julia) and her daughter (Celina), were murdered by an army death squad at the Jesuit residence on the grounds of the University of San Salvador. The Jesuits were murdered because of their commitment to the faith that does justice; the women, who had taken refuge with the Jesuits after their home had been damaged by gunfire, were killed so as to leave no witnesses. Jimmy would have been among the massacred that night, 16 November 1989, had he not chosen to spend time among the ordinary people before accepting an invitation to stay with his Jesuit companions at the University. (Jimmy shared this with me in El Salvador in 1991. He had also said this to his family in Ireland, according to his niece, Gráinne) Afterwards his concern to see justice done in the case of these companions and the two women was viewed by him as a way to also promote justice for the people of the country. In a letter to members of his family in Ireland in 1990 he wrote: “The future of justice is obfuscated by the fact that the trial of the soldiers for the killings is being impeded by false evidence of the military and by the collusion of the American Embassy and Government”. (The source for this quote is his niece Gráinne who had also spoken with other members of his extended family.)

Jimmy also narrowly escaped death on another occasion when he found himself under the table while army bullets were sprayed around the room. He was the pastor of San Antonio Abad parish, where a predecessor, and several young people on retreat, had been slain by the army in 1979. I stayed with him and the Jesuit community at the parish during part of my time in El Salvador in 1991 and 1992. One day he asked if I would like to see the new houses he was having built for the poor. We headed toward a four wheel drive vehicle. Remembering that Jimmy did not drive in Ireland, and knowing I did not feel like handling such a large vehicle there and then in San Salvador, I asked who would be our driver. He told me that he would drive. He proved to be a very abie driver, having become such out of his desire to serve the poor more effectively.

To understand the development of Jimmy's commitment to economically poor and politically persecuted people it is necessary to remember that in 1974-75 we committed ourselves at a global level to the work of justice as an integral part of the service of faith and that Jimmy was one of the two delegates elected by his peers to go to the 32nd General Congregation where that decision was taken. Then in 1980 I asked him as a leading scripture scholar to review a book that was generating a lot of interest at the time, namely, Jose Miranda's Marx and the Bible. ((At that time I was co-editing a magazine on faith and justice issues.) He told me later that reviewing this book led to a quantum leap in his Jesuit commitment to Decree 4 of GC 32. Viewed from the perspective of spirituality as an academic discipline it can be said that his leap of faith was facilitated by the practice of an intense reading experience. Other kinds of practices would evoke, express and enhance his conversion.

In the academic year, 1980-81, some theology students at Milltown Institute were strongly of the view that the Institute should take an initiative to stop the intended tour of apartheid South Africa by the Irish rugby team. We held an all night vigil at the premises of the IRFU and collaborated with others in organising and taking part in protest marches on the streets. Jimmy, the Dean of Theology at the time, was one of the very few academic and administration staff who joined us. He also went on a placement to Brixton, England around that time to work with marginalised black people. This commitment to black people reappeared strongly after his years in El Salvador when he went to live and work in Malawi (1997-99). One of his former Malawian students told me that Jimmy was a friend of the poor and oppressed, and that he lived what he taught from the Bible. This was also true of him in Ireland.

During his years as President of Milltown Institute he accepted an invitation from Séamus Murphy to live in inner city Dublin as a member of the Jesuit community called after Luis Espinal. Espinal was a Catalan Jesuit who had been murdered in Bolivia for his commitment to the faith that does justice. The Espinal community, which had been brought into being in 1980, the year of Espinal's martyrdom, by Séamus, Kevin O'Higgins, and myself, when we were theology students at Milltown, and which was joined almost immediately by John Moore, then a Professor and Head of Department at UCD, was committed to simple living, was a friend to the flat dwellers in the local Dublin Corporation estates, and was a meeting place for social action groups. Jimmy used to cycle to and from Milltown in those years. He also participated regularly in protests outside the US embassy against US foreign policy in Central America, protests in which some staff and students at the Institute took a prominent part.

In line with how he understood and lived his faith and scholarship a defining characteristic of his Presidency was the way he enabled the teaching of liberation and feminist theologies to progress in the Institute. He welcomed me on the staff in 1986 and I am grateful to him for the support he gave me to teach these theologies. Una Agnew, the first female head of a programme at the Institute, and now Head of the Dept. of Spirituality, remembers his commitment to improving the situation of women, while Dominique Horgan, now the Archivist, remembers how he initiated the Adult Religious Education programmes, of which she was the first Director. This commitment to adult religious education is also reflected in the fact that during his years as President of the Milltown Institute he taught scripture at the People's College, which was located near the Espinal community. He did so there in order to reach out to people who at that time would not come to places like Milltown because of their social class, feelings about the Catholic Church, or educational attainment. Jimmy was a great success with such groups.

After his years in Malawi, following his term as President of the Institute, and his years in El Salvador, Jimmy went to Belfast to be in solidarity with those struggling for peace and justice there. During that time he also wrote a series of very fine articles on scripture texts for readers of the Sacred Heart Messenger. Then, given his language skills and feeling for Latino peoples, he went to California to serve in a parish with a very large Latino population. While there he suffered a stroke, and had to return to Ireland. More strokes followed. He died on October 9h. May he rest in peace, and may we be inspired by the way he lived the Institute motto to bring scholarship to life. Amen. Alleluia!

From the homily by Derek Cassidy at the Funeral Mass in Gardiner Street:
I have no doubt in my heart or mind that this virtuous soul, at whose invitation we gather today in faith and prayer, is residing easily and comfortably in the hands of our God. It is also unquestionable that Jimmy's illness looked like a disaster and we watched as the person we knew and loved was leaving us over these past twelve months or so, we were stunned and amazed how one who so loved God and who was such a devoted friend and servant of His was so afflicted: God certainly put Jimmy to the test.

But in his own words, writing in his well-received and celebrated tome on “JOHN”, Jimmy reflects for us “the suffering of Jesus is an expression of love, for the Good Shepherd is on His way to lay down His life for His friends out of love” - not like the hired shepherd who would run away from suffering.

Wisdom concludes that “they who trust in the Lord will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with The Lord in love; for grace and mercy await those He has chosen”. That is a verse that Jimmy took on as his leit motiv. He is one who trusted and who lived a faithful life, and now that Jimmy has gone home to the God who chose him, grace and mercy will embrace him. As he wrote in his book, “Jesus' death is a pass(ing) over to the Father, so that Death and Resurrection are inseparable; and the light of the Resurrection penetrates suffering and gives it meaning”.

St Paul confirms our Faith for us in the reading we have just heard. Because of the resurrection, death has no more power over us. We learn this message as we continually enter the waters of our Baptism and let the grace we received there be at work in our lives calling us ever more deeply into the Mystery of Life.

Writing in the introduction to his volume on John, Jimmy alerts us to the fact that the sign of the Fourth Evangelist is that of the Eagle, and reflects for us that this is because John had the MOST penetrating GAZE into the Mystery of God Made Man - of Jesus. We each have our own special memory of Jimmy. Mine centres around Jimmy's own gaze into my eyes - he had a way of looking into my eyes that invited trust and response in care. I often imagine to myself that this is a very Jesus-like gaze, as He (Jesus) looked at the Rich Young Man and loved him.

Born: 14 April 1931, Magherafelt, County Derry
Entered: 07 September 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1963, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1968, Chiesa del Gesù, Roma, Italia
Died: 26 January 2017, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

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

Early Education at NS Magherafelt, Co Derry, Northern Ireland; Clongowes Wood College SJ

1952-1954 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1954-1957 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1957-1960 Crescent College SJ - Regency : Teacher
1960-1964 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1964-1965 Paray-le-Monial, France - Tertianship at Maison La Colombière
1965-1967 Bellarmino, Rome, Italy - Studying Theology at Gregorian University
1967-1968 Trier, Germany - Diploma Course in Liturgy at German Liturgical Institute
1968-1984 Milltown Park - Teacher of Theological Dogma & Liturgy
1977 President of Milltown Institute
1983 Sabbatical
1984-1989 Nairobi, Kenya - Professor of Theology at Hekima College School of Theology
1989-2017 Milltown Park - Professor of Systematic Theology at Milltown Institute
1993 Director of Lonergan Centre
1996 Visiting Professor at Hekima College School of Theology
2001 Professor Emeritus of Theology at Milltown Institute; Director of Lonergan Centre; Writer
2015 Director of Lonergan Centre; Writer

by 1965 at Paray-le-Monial, France (GAL M) making Tertianship
by 1966 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying
by 1968 at Trier, Germany (GER S) studying
by 1985 at Nairobi, Kenya (AOR) teaching - Hekima

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/fine-scholar-outstanding-lecturer/

‘Fine scholar, outstanding lecturer’
Jesuits, family and friends of the late Ray Moloney SJ packed into Milltown Chapel for his funeral mass celebrated by Bill Matthews SJ. Ray died on 26 January, aged 85. He was born in Belfast in 1931 and raised in Magherafelt, Co. Derry. At the age of 12 he went to Clongowes Wood College SJ and joined the Jesuits in 1950. Most of his life revolved around the Milltown Institute where he taught theology and liturgy. He spent five years on the missions in Kenya where he learnt Swahili so he could travel and celebrate Mass with the local people. He was the respected author of many theological books, and well known for his theology of the Eucharist.
Homilist Brian Grogan SJ noted that Ray’s writings on the Eucharist offered fleeting glimpses into his soul. Ray summarised his book Rediscovering the Eucharist not in terms of sacrifice, or obligation, or the Real Presence, but in terms of friendship. “In the Eucharist we already anticipate something of what our friendship with Christ will be when it comes to its full flowering in heaven. In the long run that friendship is all that matters,” he wrote.
Referring to his long academic ministry, Brian said that Ray was a “fine scholar and outstanding teacher.” This view was echoed widely by many of his former students who posted on the Irish Jesuits Facebook page. “Fond memories of learning theology from Ray Moloney. A scholar and a gentleman”, wrote Thomas Giblin. And US Jesuit James Pribek commented, “He combined fine scholarship with genuine humility and benevolence. In a group, he was usually on the edge, taking everything in and smiling. He radiated peace. May God be good to him”.
In his wide-ranging homily Brian spoke also about Ray’s life as a Jesuit, noting that his ministry in the intellectual apostolate was underpinned by a deep faith, committed prayer life and love of God. He said he lived an ascetic, almost monastic life, and a fitting symbol for that life was his breviary. “Ray leaned into the contrary wind and lived an orderly and predictable day. Some clerics, I have heard, sailed with the prevailing wind and eased up on the divine office, but not he... At the end his well-worn breviary was the only book beside his bed.”
Brian acknowledged that Ray held firmly to what some would call a more conservative theological position and was slow to relinquish beliefs that were dear to him. “But agree with him or not, he commanded your respect. He knew where he stood, and had a steely quality characteristic of his Northern Ireland roots.” He was also prepared to change and develop, something attested to in a few words from Provincial Leonard Moloney just before the final commendation. He said he had been speaking to Ray not too long before his death and Ray told him that his prayer had changed in recent times and was now much more affective than rational.
Speaking at the end of the Mass, Ray’s niece also told a revealing story about the man her family knew and loved. She remembered with fondness his visits to her home as a child and how he would let her put her feet on his shoes as he danced her round the room.
Brian concluded his homily with the following words: “In a little while we will say: ‘We shall become like God, for we shall see him as he is.’ Like Aquinas when asked by God ‘What do you want?’, Ray would have responded, ‘Teipsum, Domine. Yourself, Lord.’ ... Ray now sees God. He is enlightened, entranced, immortalised and divinised. Our Eucharist today is a thanksgiving for all that God has accomplished in our brother and friend, Ray Moloney”.
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

Born: 01 August 1915, Dublin City, County 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 Redmond 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.