Born: 02 January 1911, Ballinrobe, County Mayo
Entered: 01 September 1928, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 13 May 1942, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 08 December 1976, Hong Kong
Died: 03 October 1991, St Paul’s Hospital, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong - Macau-Hong Kong Province (MAC-HK)

Part of the Wah Yan College, Hong Kong community at the time of death

Transcribed HIB to HK : 03 December 1966

by 1937 at Aberdeen, Hong Kong - Regency

Second World War Chaplain

◆ Hong Kong Catholic Archives :
Death of Father Alan Birmingham, S.J.
Former editor of “Sunday Examiner” dies in Hong Kong
R.I.P.

Father Alan Birmingham, a long-time editor of the “Sunday Examiner” died here after a brief illness on 3 October 1991.

Father Birmingham, a Jesuit, had lived in Hong Kong for almost 50 years, having first arrived here in November 1936.

Born in Co. Mayo, Ireland, in 1911, he joined the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) in 1928 after secondary school and went on to take an honours degree in mathematics in the National University of Ireland.

After his arrival in Hong Kong in 1936 he studied Cantonese and then taught for a year in Wah Yan College, then in Robinson Road, before returning to Ireland a few months before the outbreak of the Second World War to complete his Jesuit training.

Ordained a priest in Dublin on 13 May 1942, he became a Catholic chaplain, with the rank of Captain, in the wartime British Army, thus delaying his return to Hong Kong.

Having served in England and Northern Ireland, he was assigned to land with the Allied forces sea and air assault on the north coast of France on “D-Day”, 6 June 1944.

He afterwards said that his main task on those fateful first days ashore was burying the dead on the beaches where they had landed.

He stayed with his soldiers in France, Belgium and finally Germany until mid-August 1945.

He was then re-assigned to India from where he was “demobbed” (returned to civilian life) in October 1946.

After returning to Hong Kong in February 1948, he was sent for some months to Canton (Guangzhou) where a Jesuit colleague, Father John Turner, was lecturing at Chung Shan University.

That summer he moved back to Hong Kong, becoming a professor of Dogmatic Theology and later of Sacred Scripture at the then Regional Seminary in Aberdeen where Chinese priests from many dioceses in South China received their professional training. He held these posts for nine years.

During those years he also lectured briefly on philosophy and English literature at the University of Hong Kong.

In 1957, he was appointed editor of the “Sunday Examiner.” He was by far the longest-serving editor of the paper, remaining in the position for 33 years until his 80th birthday on 2 January this year.

On the death of Father Fergus Cronin SJ, Father Alan took over as rector of the busy Catholic Centre Chapel.
Sunday Examiner Hong Kong - 9 November 1990

◆ Biographical Notes of the Jesuits in Hong Kong 1926-2000, by Frederick Hok-ming Cheung PhD, Wonder Press Company 2013 ISBN 978 9881223814 :
Having graduated from UCD with an Honours degree in Mathematics he was sent to Hong Kong in 1936.
He studied Cantonese in Hong Kong and then did some years of teaching in Wah Yan Hong Kong.

After Ordination in 1942 he was appointed Catholic Chaplain with the rank of Captain in the wartime British Army. He was assigned to land with the Allied force on “D-Day”, June 6th 1944. He remained with his soldiers in France, Belgium and finally Germany until mid August 1945. He was then reassigned to India until October 1946, when he returned to civilian life.

He returned to Hong Kong in February 1948and took up a post as Professor of Dogmatic Theology, and later Scripture at the Regional Seminary in Aberdeen. He also lectured in Philosophy and English Literature at the University of Hong Kong.

He was the Editor of the “Sunday Examiner” for almost 33 years (1957-1991). For more than twenty years he edited the English writings of László Ladányi in the “China News Analysis”. He also celebrated Mass regularly at St Joseph’s Church on Garden Road for over thirty years.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1992

Obituary

Father Alan Birmingham SJ

Learned Priest Who Served Faithfully for “Fifty” Years in Hongkong.

Fr Biriningham did not say Mass in the Catholic Centre Chapel, in busy Hongkong Central District on Wednesday, October 4th. He had done so the day : before, and for many months since Fr F Cronin had died. Instead, Fr S Coghlan and Fr M McLoughlin took him to St Paul's Hospital Causeway Bay. He was feeling groggy and could not lift one of his arms. That afternoon, in the Intensive Care Unit, he died. A little more than a year previously, he had had heart surgery (aneurysm) but recovered. But he had a long beard which made him look like a retired sea captain. All his life he had had good health. He fought a cold on his feet, and though he did not feel so well in the mornings, regained his strength by the afternoon. For thirty years, he was never a patient in a hospital.Priests throughout East Asia and beyond will have known him as the editor of the Sunday Examiner, which was appreciated for his wide cover age of church news in the world, as well as for its well written editorials. In the diocese, he was not so much widely known, as well known. Some priests remember his kindness from the days he taught them Theology in the Seminary (1949-1956). Those who went to the nine o'clock Sunday Mass at St. Joseph's remember him since the days of Fr Franelli, which go back more than thirty years previously. His deep voice was often remembered as a mutter, inspiring devotion and trust. He often heard confessions in St Joseph's and the Catholic Centre Chapel.

He first went to Hongkong in 1936, where he spent time learning Cantonese, and then teaching in Wah Yan College, Robinson Road. He was born in Ballinrobe, Co Mayo, where the family had a wholesale business. His father qualified as a medical doctor, but never practised, taking on the family business, but retiring to Dublin when he was 45 years old. Alan first went to the Carmelite Fathers in Terenure, and retained an affection for the Carmelites. He then went to the Jesuit College, Belvedere, and after five years entered the Society of Jesus in 1928. His university studies at UCD were in Mathematics, and sometimes it was said that, in later life, the prime numbers gave him sleepless nights. After three years in Hongkong he returned to Ireland to study Theology and was ordained in 1942. While he was a priest in the Jesuit Church of Gardiner Street, the Provincial requested him to be a Chaplain in the British Army. He gave family reasons for not doing so, and he was told that these were valid but not sufficient to refuse the pastoral needs of those in the War. He joined as an Army Chaplain as part of christian charity and out of human solidarity. He was with the first wave to land on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day June 1944. He remembered a day when he saw 700 wounded and 250 burials. He was demobolised in 1947, and did Tertianship in Dublin under Fr J Neary, who also had been in Hongkong.

When he returned to Hongkong as a priest in 1948, he went to join Fr Tumer at Chung Shan University, Gaungzhou, but after a few months was asked to teach in the South China Regional Seminary, Aberdeen. He taught Dogma and Scripture until he was asked to assist Mgr C Vath at the Catholic Centre, with the editing of the Sunday Examiner. And he did it for 33 years! Quietly working as a priest, he slowly did his writing. He always used a pen, and never a typewriter. He was a very slow worker, and always worked deliberately and accurately. He was never in a hurry and always had time for people. His clear English style was highly esteemed. His funeral was at St Joseph's Church, where he was known as the priest at the Sunday Masses for thirty years. The main celebrants were Cardinal Wu, whom he taught, Archbishop Tang, Fr W Lo, and 39 of his fellow Jesuits, thirty other priests; more than a dozen diocesan, a dozen Maryknollers, and those of other congregations, not least being the PIME Fathers. The Mass was at 12.30 to enable the people from government and business offices to be present, and about
150 of them were there.

His brother had been a medical doctor teaching at University College Dublin. His father was anti-clerical, but a devout Catholic. “Alan” was more pastoral than clerical, and though his theological thinking was conservative, it was always kind, and at the service of people. Learned and kind, writer and at the service of all, such was the man all remembered.

Born: 25 October 1895, Terenure, Dublin
Entered: 07 December 1914, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1927, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 19 July 1929, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

1921-1923 - Regency at Xavier College, Kew, Australia
1923-1924 - Regency at St Aloysius College Sydney

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Early education was at the Bower in Athlone and Clongowes.

After his Novitiate he remained at Tullabeg for his Juniorate.
1918 He was sent to Milltown for Philosophy.
1921 He was sent to Australia for Regency and he spent three years there at Xavier College Kew, and St Aloysius Sydney.
1924 He returned to Milltown for Theology. he worked hard there and was ordained there, but had begun to suffer from pains in his head and eyes.
After his ordination, and before he had finished his Theology, he was sent to Mungret, in the hope that the change of work would ease his difficulties. He was very popular at Mungret, and a very able Teacher and Prefect.
1928 He returned to Milltown to complete his Theology, and early on he was diagnosed with Sarcoma. He grew weaker and had to go to St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin, where he lingered for eight months until he died there 19 July 1929.

The day before he died, a Jesuit who went to see him met a Nun who was caring for him, and said how edified she was by his obedient patience, and how trustful he was of them and of Our Lady’s protection, and how grateful he was for prayers.

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Kevin Daly entered the Society at Tullabeg, 7 December 1914, and after the juniorate he moved to Milltown Park for philosophy. He was sent to the Australian Mission in the later part of 1921, initially at Xavier. After approximately three years teaching at St Aloysius' College, 1922-24, Daly returned a sick man to Milltown Park for theology.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 4th Year No 4 1929
Obituary :
Fr Kevin Daly
On Friday, 19th July a welcome release came to Fr. Kevin Daly after 8 months on his death bed. His disease was diagnosed as incurable last autumn, and he entered St Vincent's private hospital in November to die. He new the truth and faced it with bright and easy courage.

About Christmas a novena to B. Robert Beilarmine was begun at Milltown, and for some time he grasped again at hope. By degrees that last hope faded, and he came to see that his death was but a matter of a few months. He was dying by inches. He was unable to move or do anything for himself, and his voice had sunk to a whisper. He never lost courage or
patience. The day before he died one of Ours, who had been in to bid him good-bye, met the nun who had charge of him, and heard, from her how edifying he had been, how patient and obedient, how be let them do with him what they thought best, how trustful in Our Lady's protection, how grateful for prayers. His greatest grief was not for himself but for his mother. She had been in to see him every day, and clung to the hope of his recovery long after he had given it up. On the night of Wednesday, 17th July he get a bad turn. On Thursday he was dying, and asked for Extreme Unction. He died that night. Father Kevin was born in 1895. As as mall boy he was sent to the Bower Convent, Athlone. It cheered him on his death bed when told that his former teachers were praying for him. After several years at Clongowes he entered Tullabeg on 7th December 1914, where he did his noviceship and juniorate. In 1918 he went to Milltown for philosophy, and in 1921 to Australia. His three years there were spent at Xavier, and St. Aloysius. He returned to Milltown for theology in 1924. Fr Kevin was not clever and found theology and philosophy difficult. He worked very hard at them, and began to suffer from pains in the head and eyes. After his ordination, but before his theology was finished, he was sent to Mungret in the hope that he would get stronger by this change of work. In Mungret he was very popular, and proved himself a most capable and efficient prefect. Towards the end of the year he had to undergo a serious operation and was a long time convalescing. In August 1928 he returned to Milltown to complete his theology, but it was soon clearly diagnosed. that he was suffering from Sarcoma. He bravely kept the knowledge from his father and mother, and when meeting them was so bright and cheerful that they had no suspicions. But he gradually grew weaker, and in November had to go to St. Vincent's. The rest of his story has been already told.
Fr. Kevin's career was not so much cut short as never begun. He had given his life to God in the Society of His Son, and God had taken the will of a full apostolic career for the deed. Indeed we may well say that Fr Kevin gave the deed also. We may well believe, and we trust that his generous response to his vocation, his earnestness, his charity, his struggles at his studies, above all the heroic courage, the splendid resignation which he showed when face to lace with a lingering death, gave God all the glory He looked for from Fr Kevin's stay on earth. And certainly his career, brief in years but rich in virtue, has not been without its influence all all who knew him. To his father, and very specially to his mother, who watched him dying for so many months, we offer our most sincere sympathy. RIP.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Kevin Daly 1895-1929
The death of Fr Kevin Daly at the early age of 34 was regarded as a tragedy by his contemporaries.

Born in 1895, he received his early education at the Bower Athlone and Clongowes.

During his theologate at Milltown he began to feel pains in his head and eyes. Immediately after ordination he went to Mungret asFirst Prefect, in the hope that the change would benefit his health. Here he proved immensely popular with both Community and boys, while being at the same time efficient as a Prefect, a rare combination.

Returning in 1928 to complete his Theology, his pains continued until finally his condition was diagnosed as Sarcoma. He lingered on in St Vincent’s Hospital for eight months till his happy release on July 19th 1929.

There is always something of a tragedy in the death of the young, but in the case of Fr Kevin this note was heightened by his lovable winning disposition and the promise of great work for God to come.

“Consummatus est in brevi, explevit tempora multis” words used of St Aloysius and St John Berchmans have an application to Fr Kevin Daly.

Born: 15 January 1915, Rathfarnham, Dublin
Entered: 30 September 1933, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 30 July 1947, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1950, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 24 January 2009, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

◆ Irish Jesuit Missions : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/memories-of-father-tom/

Memories of Father Tom

Nine days after his 94th birthday Tom McMahon died peacefully on Saturday 24 January in Cherryfield, which he never tired of praising for the happiness and hope he enjoyed
there. Not all his memories died with him. Apart from innumerable poems about his friends and enthusiasms, he has left a video clip (now on YouTube – also viewable on Jesuit.ie) taken from the DVD about the closing of the Sacred Heart Church in Limerick, and an interview about his life, made three years ago, which you can read below. His Limerick friends came in strength to his funeral, and he would have loved the sound of Cecilian voices filling the Milltown chapel.
The Society still has a kick in it !
An Interview with Tom Mc Mahon, Sept 3rd, 2005, reported in Interfuse, Autumn 2005
You were born way back in 1915, at the very beginning of it. You’re almost 91, and you must have wonderful memories. Tell me some of your early memories of the time before school, at school, and before you entered the Society.
Well, I was only an infant when we went to live in Rathfarnham and, of course, Rathfarnham was completely different then. We had little cottages with half doors on them, and we had a forge in the middle of the village. And there was Prescotts, where the trams originally went round by the Protestant church, and then back; that was the tram station. And there was another one down in Terenure, opposite the Catholic Church. But I remember during the troubles in 1922, the Barracks that was at the corner there was blown up. But before that I remember we went to school in the Presentation Convent in Terenure. Myself and my older sister were walking down to school when we were stopped in horror by the Dodder Bridge, because there was a whole line of barbed wire across it. There were soldiers, so we turned back and hurried home. We were frightened out of our lives. I remember, for instance, the taking of a barracks on the South Circular Road. You could hear the shots in Rathfarnham. And one single shot I saw fired during the Civil War was when the Free Staters were leaving the Barracks. They walked up through the village and one fellow pulled out his revolver and fired a shot, because the Free Staters were coming up. But actually they had had a bolt hole dug through the Castle wall to escape through the Castle gardens and out that way, but they eventually went up through the village and away off, so that was the one shot I actually saw being fired.
You were only six then– you’ve a good memory to go back that far.
Yes, and, of course, Rathfarnham was completely open in those days. There were fields all the way across to the road where the steam tram used to go. And the tram went away off up to Blessington. The Castle was terra incognita, but you saw the Juniors coming out. We thought they were young priests, you know, and we would see them on Sundays, coming out for their walk. And they used to sing in the Parish Church. We thought they were magnificent, which they were. I learned one of the pieces of music I have loved all my life – it’s by one of the classical writers – I can’t think of the name just now but I was fascinated by it.
So did you go from Rathfarnham to school in Synge Street?
Oh, yes, yes. I went to Synge Street after that, and I used to cycle. And I remember we had to go to Catechism on Sunday morning, and I decided I’d cycle the whole way in without putting my hands on the handle bars – of course, on Sunday mornings there wasn’t much traffic but I did it. You wouldn’t do it now!!
You had Religious Education on Sundays, and you spent your primary and secondary school days in Synge Street?
Uncle of Father Joe Veale, a marvellous man. I remember one of the Brothers asking me what I was thinking of being. I said I was going to be a civil servant. I was too shy about telling him the other ideas I had.
What gave you the idea of the Jesuits? Had you some association with them?
Well, first of all, they lived opposite us – I could see into the grounds there in Rathfarnham Castle. Secondly the fellow sharing a bench with me at school was Terry Mc Parland, who became a novice with the Jesuits, though he died after eleven months there. He was a marvellous fellow – quite shy and retiring – but he really had something, for he managed to gather seven of us for a retreat the day after our Leaving Cert. In those days Bishop Byrne (I think it was he.) wouldn’t allow CBS boys to go on Jesuit retreats, because, he said, the Jesuits were taking all the vocations, which, of course, wasn’t true. So we couldn’t go until we had left school. Literally, the day after our Leaving Cert we went out on retreat. And who should we have for our retreat but Fr. Neary!
Ah, the man who later was to be your Master of Novices.
Yeah, and I can remember him well on that retreat saying (mimics) “Prevent, we beseech thee, O Lord, all our actions...” And then when we got to the novitiate, he came as Novice Master after Fr. Coyne. There he was again saying “Prevent, we beseech thee, O Lord...” (laughs). So that was my introduction to the Society.
And then, of course, you went to Rathfarnham, I presume.
That’s right – back to home territory. Interestingly enough, my father got a stroke and died during our Tertianship in the Castle. And I could see the blind pulled down in his window from where I was in the Castle. And, very kindly, the Instructor of Tertians allowed me to go home once a month to see him. And my father died at Easter, so I never got round to doing the statutory mission that the tertians went on, because he died just at that time. Charlie Heron was to have been with me in Milltown. I don’t know what Charlie did, but I was left off it because of my father’s death.
You have an extraordinary memory for so many things. So you went through the ordinary formation up to tertianship. And, after tertianship, where were you assigned?
Straight down to the Crescent.
But you didn’t spend all your life in the Crescent, did you?
No, but a great deal of it – the best part of 40 years. From 1949 (I think) till 1963, and then I was sent up to Belvedere, where I spent a year putting them on their feet (laughs). And, after that, I went to Galway for 11 years. I had quite an interesting time there. I remember I used to bring the boys out for their Irish fortnight to the Islands. But, once, I had to supply for one of the priests there. I don’t know what the islanders made of my Irish. However I got through. One very interesting thing happened when I was there. Do you remember there were two men – British soldiers – that rowed across the Atlantic in what I think they called a ‘dory’. And I met them when they came across because the islanders couldn’t talk to them in English, and I welcomed them onto the island. The next day the island was swarming with newspaper fellows from all over the world and there was a book written about it afterwards and I was mentioned in it. “Fr McMann” they called me (laughs)! So I was in Galway for 11 years, and then from 1975 on I was in the Crescent until I came a cropper!
Well, you don’t look to me as if you came a cropper! However, your time in the Crescent – boy, that was a long time!
Well, I had very interesting pupils: I had Cormac McNamara, who became a big man in Irish medical circles. He represented Ireland on the Continent and he also was, apparently, responsible for joining the two sections of the medical people here in Ireland. I don’t understand the mechanics of it, but he got them together into one. He was a very famous medical man who often appeared on TV. Brian O’Leary was another pupil, and there were quite a number of Jesuits. I can’t think of their names immediately, but they all went through my hands. We had great times together.
And, of course, if I remember correctly, you were kinda famous with the Cecilian society.
Oh yes. I ran with them for many years. And, if my memory serves me rightly, between the boys in the Crescent and the Cecilians, I think I did 29 shows. We used to do three a year at the beginning – a pantomime at Christmas and an autumn musical and an Easter musical. The result was that I never got a real holiday, because the Christmas holidays were banjaxed by the show, and the Easter holidays the same.
And were these present pupils and past pupils?
No, no. There were no present pupils in it. Really the idea was that it would be past pupils, recently left, and their sisters, and their girlfriends, and it was a very young group of very happy people.
It must have been a great time; you could use your acting ability.
Oh no, no. I didn’t do that at all. I did the singing and I did up to 21 hours of singing a week. I used to sing with the sopranos, the tenors, the altos and the bass! You see a lot of them didn’t know much about music, but they had an ear, and if you sang it at them, they’d pick it up! I literally sang for 21 hours a week!!
My goodness! And did you also play an instrument like the piano?
Oh I did, but I didn’t play it in the Cecilians. We had an orchestra and I was the conductor. It had 24 instruments in it. It was quite a thing! It was begun before the Cecilians as a separate entity, and then they all joined up. They were all amateurs at the beginning, but we got a teacher from the musical school, and he insisted on trade union regulations, and people had to be paid, which, of course, put an enormous burden on the Cecilians. They had a huge bill every year – and we’d all been amateurs before that. And then I had the church choir, and this is their last year. They’ll end up next June, because the Church (Sacred Heart Church, Limerick) is shutting down. I wrote a farewell thing to them ....... (goes and gets paper) There it is. I’ll read it for you. It’s entitled: SING, SING, CHORUS OF ANGELS, LORD, POUR GRACES AND BLESSINGS ON YE!
So have you sent it to them?
Oh yes I have – it’s what you might call a swansong.
And, please God, you’ll be able to be with them for their final session there. One thing, I think, readers of Interfuse would be interested in hearing is what you feel about the different changes that have take place in the Society and in the Province?
Well, I’m afraid I take an abstract and abstracted view of the whole thing. I feel it’s not up to me to either suggest or remedy anything. I leave that to the younger generation – and I think that’s fair enough too.
You’re comfortable with things.
Ah, look here, I’m in heaven here. I don’t know how I deserved it. Everything is so beautifully laid on. I believe it was Paddy Doyle who had the idea first of all, but, whoever it was, was inspired. You couldn’t ask for a nicer place or a nicer set of people, nurses and community and everything – absolutely marvelous.
So you still maintain that you don’t have to take care of yourself, as you said to me once, because THEY take care of you.
Yes, they take care of me – more care than I could possibly offer myself. You certainly are a great advertisement for Cherryfield.
And, of course, I have a little – what would you call it? – business here. I do teaching of English and my first pupil was Darota – a great little soul – a Pole, and then I got a Chinese lady, who’s the wife of the gardener here, and two hours with her every Saturday which was pretty hefty, and then I got another Pole – Stasik – the short for Stanislaus in Polish. There’s a bit of information for you!
So you do that as a kind of sideline?
Yes, a sideline.
You’re keeping up your extra-curricular activities.
Yes. And do you know? I find now I have time for reading that I never had before. I’ve been reading Palgrave’s Golden Treasury for many many years back, but now I get through half an hour of it every night, or maybe three quarters of an hour. And then I have the Oxford Book of Quotations, on which I spend half an hour, and I do my main reading from nine until midnight and, at 5 to midnight I say Compline. And then, as people say, ‘so to bed’.
That’s a very good day there. Apart from what you’ve said, which includes a lot of encouraging words for the brethren, if you were to sum up your last words for this interview, what would you say?
Well, I’d say this. That I suppose, like my own generation, I began to feel that – ‘ah the spirit has gone out of the province and the Society’ and so on, and then you begin to read what they‘re doing, and you think, ‘My God, there’s life in the old boy still.’ You see, ignorance is part of it. You just don’t hear what’s going on, and then you find to your surprise and delight that there’s a lot of good things going on – a lot of them. You know its like saying that young people don’t go to Mass anymore. But there’s a lot of them that do – there’s a lot of them go to Confession, and so on. But the Society has a kick in it...
And that’s a very encouraging word, particularly for us who work in the field of communications. Now with AMDG and Update – not to mention Interfuse – we aim to share those things so that people may know what’s going on ...
Yes, well take heart! An old fellow like me had his eyes opened when I poked around and saw what was going on – even by accident. I found out but it was good to know it, ‘cos otherwise I’d be a little bit soured in old age, which is a horrible thing to be. (laughs)
Well, you certainly haven’t been. God bless you, and thanks very much.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr Thomas (Tom/Thos) MacMahon (1915-2009)

15th January 1915: Born in Dublin
Early education in Presentation, Terenure, and CBS Synge Street
30th September 1933: Entered the Society at Emo
15 October 1935: First Vows at Emo
1935 - 1938: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1938 - 1942: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1942 - 1944: Clongowes - Teacher
1944 - 1948: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
30th July 1947: Ordained at Milltown Park
1948 - 1949: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1949 - 1962: Crescent College Limerick -
2nd February 1950: Final Vows
1949 - 1960: Assistant Prefect of Studies.
1960 - 1962: Prefect of Studies in Crescent
1962 - 1963: Belvedere College - Teacher
1963 - 1975: St. Ignatius College Galway - Teacher
1975 - 2006: Sacred Heart Church, Limerick
1975 - 1991: Assisted in the Church; Subminister; Assistant Prefect of Theatre
1989 - 1991: Spiritual Father
1991 - 1992: Minister
1992 - 1997: Subminister; Choirmaster; Director Cecilians Musical Society
1997 - 2003: Subminister; Assisted in Church; Choirmaster; Assistant Director of Sodality BVM & St. Joseph
2000 - 2002: Director of the Church Shop
2002 - 2009: Cherryfield Lodge -Prayed for Church and Society
2006-2009: He was a member of Milltown Park community .
24th January 2009: Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin.

Todd Morrissey writes:
Tom MacManon, who died at Cherryfield Lodge on 24 January 2009, aged 94 years, informed the Provincial some years previously that he had never been happier. “I'm in heaven here”, he told an interviewer in 2005, “you couldn't ask for a nicer place or a nicer set of people, nurses and community and everything - marvellous”. (cf. Interfuse 125, Autumn 2005). He radiated happiness and cheerfulness.

Tom was born on 15 January 1915, and grew up in Rathfarnham, when it was a village almost surrounded by fields, and the means of travel was by foot, bicycle, horse and trap/cart, or tram. The castle was unknown territory to him, but he was familiar with the “young priests” going for a walk on Sundays and singing in the parish church. He and his older sister walked to school at the Presentation Convent, Terenure; and later he cycled to the Christian Brothers' secondary school at Synge Street. After his Leaving Certificate he, and some others from Synge Street, attended a retreat at Rathfarnham under Fr John Neary. Subsequently, he was to have Fr Neary as novice master. He entered the Society at Emo on 30 September 1933, took his vows on 1 October 1935, and thereafter followed the usual course of training in Rathfarnham (for Arts degree), Tullabeg, regency (at Clongowes), and theology in Milltown Park. He was ordained in 1947, and returned to Rathfarnham for tertianship

He served in Crescent College, Limerick, from 1949-1962: teaching Irish and Technical Drawing, and acting as assistant to the prefect of studies until 196 From 1960-1962 he had a less than successful spell as prefect of studies. The position did not suit his temperament. He was a cheerful man but also very precise, even rigid. The cheerful, human side, so prominent in other circumstances and in later years, was overshadowed by the other aspects when it came to administering discipline as prefect of studies. After Limerick, he spent a year at Belvedere, eleven years in Galway, and then came back to Limerick, where he remained attached to the Sacred Heart Church community from 1975 to 2002. In 2002 he arrived at Cherryfield.

From the start of his second term in Limerick he was assistant in the church, and, in addition to his functions in the community, was assistant prefect of the theatre. This last brought him into work which he greatly enjoyed, and of which he had experience from his earlier years at the Crescent, namely, being involved in the preparation of various musical performances. Between the boys and the Cecilians, he recalled being involved in some 29 shows. Early on, there used to be a pantomime at Christmas, and an autumn and Easter musical. Tom, with his fondness for precision and thoroughness, worked hard to achieve excellence. The Cecilians, indeed, were known for the high quality of their performances. As a result, he seldom got a break during the Christmas and Easter vacations. He conducted the Cecilian orchestra of 24 instruments, and the Sacred Heart Church Choir, and did up to 21 hours of singing each week. Many of the participants did not read music, but they had an ear and could manage if he sang the material for them, so he used to sing with the sopranos, the tenors, the altos and the bass!

Among his other gifts, Tom was a 'carpenter'. There was not a room in the community house that did not have a chair, table, wardrobe, drawer or door that had not been mended or touched up by him. He could not bear to be idle, and, in the process, saved the house much expense. So marked was this, that Dick Coyne was moved to uncharacteristic versification:

    Our Tom is no stranger to pain
    If in anything there can be gain,
    For to save a few bob He'll do any job
    And paint it again and again.

Tom filled his day to the end. Interviewed three years before his death, he rejoiced that he now had more time for reading than ever before. He had always enjoyed Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Poetry, and in his final years he read it for half an hour, or three quarters, each evening. He followed this with the Oxford Book of Quotations for half an hour, and then his main reading from nine until midnight, and at 5 to midnight he said Compline. I was honoured to be part of the “main reading”. Time and again he told me about a book of mine that he had read. In addition to this tight nightly programme, he taught English during the day to two Polish and a Chinese lady. And then there were the numerous Limericks and other verse, which took up his time and found expression in province publications. To mark the closure of the Sacred Heart Church and the end of his much loved choir, he wrote a song with the long title “Sing, Sing, Chorus of Angels, Lord, Pour Graces and Blessings on Ye”. Six of the lines might well have been written for Tom himself:

    Now that you start this last great final year,
    Be glad of heart and shed no useless tear.
    But think of all the graces you have won
    Now that your final course is nearly run.
    If next September you'll not meet again,
    Then end this session with a great AMEN

Tom's “Amen” came after days of decline and difficulty. His Limerick friends came in strength, together with his fellow Jesuits, to his funeral to give thanks for his life and his companionship. Doubtless, he joyfully conducted and sang along in spirit with the Cecilian and Sacred Heart Choir voices that filled the Milltown chapel.

Born: 28 October 1934, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 06 September 1952, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1966, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 15 August 1971, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 14 March 2002, Mater Hospital, Dublin

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

by 1986 at Regis Toronto, Canada (CAN S) on sabbatical

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 112 : Special Edition 2002

Obituary
Fr Brendan Murray (1934-2002)
28th Oct. 1934: Born in Dublin
Early education at St. Joseph's, Terenure and CBS, Synge Street.
6th Sept. 1952: Entered the Society at Emo
7th Sept. 1954: First Vows at Emo
1954 - 1957: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1957 - 1960: Tullabeg- Studied Philosophy
1960 - 1962: Mungret College - Regency
1962 - 1963: Clongowes - Regency; Clongowes Cert. in Education
1963 - 1967: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
28th July, 1966: Ordained at Milltown Park
1967 - 1968 Tertianship at Rathfamham
1968 - 1974: University Hall - Principal, Bursar
15" Aug. 1971: Final Vows at Clongowes
1974 - 1978 John Austin House - Chaplain, D.I.T. Kevin St; Bursar
1978 - 1985: Campion House - Chaplain, D.I.T. Kevin Street; Bursar, Co-ordinator, Communications
1985: Vice-Superior.
1985 - 1986: Toronto - Sabbatical year
1986 - 1991: Tullabeg - Superior; Minister; Pastoral Delegate
1991 - 1993: Gardiner Street - Vice-Superior, Minister; Pastoral Delegate
1993 - 1997: Superior; Editor, Messenger; National Secretary Apostleship of Prayer; Pastoral Delegate
1997 - 2002: Leeson Street - Superior; Editor, Messenger; National Secretary of Apostleship of Prayer 14th Mar.
2002: Died at Mater Hospital, Dublin.

Brendan was taken ill at the end of February, 2002. In St. Vincent's Hospital it was diagnosed that he had had a heart attack. He suffered a second heart attack in the hospital. His condition worsened a week later. He was taken to Mater Hospital, where they performed a double by-pass operation. The doctors gave his chances of recovery as 50/50. He was kept on a life support system, but did not respond. From the early hours of March 14th his condition deteriorated rapidly, and he died peacefully in the morning of the same day, surrounded by members of his family.

Michael Drennan writes....
One could wonder what Brendan might have done, had he not joined the Jesuits. With his keen intelligence, great sense of humour and his ability to mimic, many avenues could have opened up for him. He might have outdone Gay Byrne, who also did the Leaving in 1952 at Synge Street CBS. Brendan could have attained fame in many fields, but his desire was not for earthly treasure. God's fidelity and commitment met a faithful response in a life that was a nice blend of the serious and the light-hearted. Brendan had a gentle hold on life. Yet, in his life he achieved much, left us a lot to cherish and be grateful for, as he had a depth and wisdom that was too good to be forgotten.

We gathered for his funeral on the Feast of St. Joseph, who is described as a “man of honour”. The same words might be used of Brendan. There was a deep sadness evident as we bade him farewell; he was taken so quickly that we had little opportunity to say goodbye.

The Gospel of the Emmaus journey seemed relevant as a way of giving a brief summary of Brendan's life. It is a good story. Brendan was a man of story having a great abundance of them; and he could tell them well. He had the capacity to embellish and make them richer, even giving the more elaborate version back to the person who had shared it with him, originally - unknowingly? In talks and retreats, he used stories to illustrate aspects of God's story from Scripture; many appeared in his well-written editorials in the Sacred Heart Messenger. A good story can have many levels of meaning.

It is a story of good companionship, which shortens a journey and leaves lasting memories. Brendan was a good companion to many people, especially, to his own family, whose loss was great; he kept in contact with them, wherever they were, sharing their joys and sorrows. In community he could brighten up a dull day with his witty interventions. He was a companion to many people whose lives he touched in ministry, whether that was in Kevin Street DIT, or to people who came to see him, or in talks or retreats he gave, or to those he worked with. Through the Sacred Heart Messenger, he reached many who felt they knew him through his writing.

He was a good companion because he had depth as well as humour. Discussions on theology, scripture, religious life, or art, engaged him. He loved fun, also, though some of his pranks did not work out as envisaged and recovery tactics were required on occasion. His sense of humour was endearing and had the lovely ability to laugh at himself. He told me the story not so long ago, about someone overhearing two people at another table in a restaurant talking about religious magazines. Finally they came to the Messenger; one said she loved the Messenger and she particularly liked Fr Murray whose photo was inside the front cover; he had a lovely smile, but then she added, “Of course, I don't believe a word of what he says”. A phone call to him was enough to raise one's heart and bring to the fore the lighter side of life.

The journey to Emmaus was made in the company of Jesus. Being a Jesuit, being in the Company of Jesus, walking the journey of life with Him was of central importance to Brendan. He was a good companion to all of us who walked with him. He contributed much, with most of his Jesuit life spent in leadership roles, often taking on difficult tasks and carrying them through. He was a dedicated worker, who had a bright, analytic, and perceptive mind, being a good judge of people and situations. While he could make the hard decision, he had a compassionate nature. He was loyal and faithful, with a generous heart, making his many talents available to others, whether it was taking on a new project, refurbishing a house, or closing one down. He had the flexibility to adapt to new situations and was at this best when under pressure. While he could get impatient at times, and sometimes he was not especially tolerant of lesser mortals, it tended to blow over quickly and it was soon forgotten.

In the Emmaus story, the opening of the word of God is significant. Brendan had a great love and appreciation for the word of God and opened it out to many. Most of his talks were based on Scripture, with a helpful story or two to lead into them. It was a living word for him; what he shared came from his own reflection and prayer and it spoke to many who heard him.

God's story of love, lived out in Jesus, met Brendan's story; he was generous in response. The gifts that God offered were those that Brendan, behind the mischievous smile and often subtle humour, wanted. Those latter years in the Messenger gave more scope to his creative side, to write, to edit, to design, and to help continue the updating of the magazine and its organisation. He relished the task and loved it, but he was good at it. The redoing and relocating so beautifully of the Evie Hone windows in Manresa also owed much to him. His attention to detail, ensuring that were placed where they would get maximum light, was carefully thought out. It could be said that in other areas, such as ordering a meal, he tended to be less creative and adventurous, there was a consistency there as he stayed with the tested and reliable. I suppose he could not be flexible on everything! Yet, there was something more than ordinary about him. He was forty-five when he learned to drive; he is the only person I know, who, on the successful completion of his driving test, came away with a Mass intention from his examiner!

He had the openness and freedom to walk with and accept the call of the Lord, letting the Lord enter his story in a new way. In that story there is a deepening of the call, as it moved towards the final part of it. He invited the Lord in, so that the Lord could reveal himself more intimately and break bread with him. Now the Lord has issued a new invitation; the journey is completed; the story has been told, the messenger's work is done, the banquet is ready. But we are to remember that story, interwoven with God's story; we are to live in its spirit, as we continue to walk on in faith.

We weep for his untimely passing, we will miss his gentle presence, but we are the richer for knowing him. His life is a good story, narrated by a very competent messenger. We pray that God will be merciful to him for any failings and give him the rewards of life that is eternal love, which is God's desire for him and for all of us. May he rest in peace.

-oOo-

Noel Barber wrote the following “Appreciation” for THE IRISH TIMES...
Fr. Brendan Murray, who died on March 14", aged 67, ploughed what many would consider infertile soil. For the past 10 years he edited a devotional religious magazine, The Sacred Heart Messenger. Many will be surprised, however, to learn that the circulation of The Messenger is well into six figures; surprised, too, to learn the range of its readership - from the very simple to the highly sophisticated. This magazine, an extraordinary survival, bears testimony to the fact that a religious monthly can still command a place in the market.

Its standard was high when he took over; the previous editors had adapted it to the needs and tastes of changing times without sacrificing its religious thrust. Building on the work of his predecessors, he brought to his task an exceptional attention to detail, an immense care with its artistic production, and a keen financial eye. His editorials, beautifully written with wit, verve and wisdom, touched a large and devoted readership; some have already expressed their sense of loss at the prospect of The Messenger without him.

He was born in Dublin on October 28th, 1934, to Frank Murray, a Civil Servant, and Lucy Dunne, one of nine children, of whom his brothers Frank and Declan and his sisters Colette Nolan, Maureen Flanagan and Carmel Murray survive him. He was educated by the Christian Brothers, Synge Street, and entered the Jesuit Novitiate at Emo Park, Portarlington, in 1952, He was an able and serious student, obtaining a good degree in Latin and Irish, and Licentiates in Philosophy and Theology. He had the capacity to become a specialist in any one of these disciplines. His character was a quixotic mix of high seriousness and earthy frivolity. There were few who could discuss better serious matters of literature, theology, philosophy - or art, in which he had a particular interest and a discriminating taste. On the other hand, he was a joker and prankster, a raconteur and mimic, who brightened many a dark afternoon for his fellow students. His stories grew in the telling in which his mentors, academic and religious, assumed a second existence.

After his Ordination in 1966, he held a variety of positions in all of which he used his considerable ability, charm and, when necessary, his formidable determination to achieve his purpose, be it in closing down a Retreat House, as Principal of a University Residence, as Chaplain to the Dublin Institute of Technology, or as a Superior of Jesuit Communities. He had outstanding pastoral skills as so many will testify: the priests who followed his retreats, the religious whom he counselled and people of all walks of life who came to receive his shrewd, kindly and practical advice. As a preacher and retreat giver he used his talents as a storyteller to great effect but his story telling was always at the service of a deep spirituality and sound common sense. These in turn reflected his warm, rich personality. In his case, the person was very much the message.

His friends were surprised that his fatal heart attack had not happened earlier. Despite his intelligence, wisdom, understanding of others and the advice of his brethren, his style of life was almost self-destructive. He worked impossibly long hours, took no exercise, rarely, if ever, had a holiday, and sustained himself on great quantities of nicotine and caffeine. He was a man of great goodness with an inexplicable disregard of himself. He will be greatly missed and it will take an exceptional person to fill his shoes.

Born: 26 March 1907, Mullingar, County Westmeath
Entered: 01 September 1924, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1939, Milltown Park. Dublin
Final Vows: 24 December 1945, St Ignatius, Leeson Street, Dublin
Died: 23 December 1970, St Vincent's Nursing Home, Leeson Street, Dublin

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

by 1932 at Valkenburg, Limburg, Netherlands (GER I) studying

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - LEFT for a period and returned. Took First Vows 21 November 1926

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Shaw, Francis
by Patrick Maume

Shaw, Francis (1907–70), Jesuit priest, Celtic scholar and historical polemicist, was born 26 March 1907 in Mullingar, Co. Westmeath, the fourth child among four sons and two daughters of Patrick Walter Shaw (1872–1940), merchant, and his wife Mary 'Minnie' (née Galligan). The Shaws were a leading Mullingar business dynasty; Patrick Walter Shaw owned several premises in the town (and a number of racehorses) and sat on a number of public bodies, including Mullingar town commissioners and Westmeath county council; he chaired Westmeath county board of health. In local politics, the Shaw family formed a distinctive faction independent of both the local Redmondite organisation and the radical dissident group led by Laurence Ginnell (qv). P. W. Shaw, however, endorsed the support expressed by John Redmond (qv) for the allies in the first world war and addressed several recruiting meetings. He was a Cumann na nGaedheal TD for Longford–Westmeath (1923–33).

From an early age Francis Shaw took a strong interest in the Irish language, and was awarded fifteen prizes and medals at local and national feiseanna. He was educated at Mullingar Christian Brothers' School and Terenure College, Dublin. The latter school was chosen because its Carmelite proprietors were willing to make allowances for his frail health by letting him sleep in a single room rather than a dormitory. Shaw's health problems were chronic; late in life he stated he had hardly ever had a pain-free day.

On 1 September 1924 Shaw entered the Jesuit novitiate at Tullabeg, Rahan, Co. Offaly, and after his first profession (21 November 1926) undertook his juniorate studies at the Jesuit residence in Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin, where Fr Lambert McKenna (qv) encouraged him to pursue a career in Celtic studies. In 1929 Shaw graduated from UCD with first-class honours in Celtic studies, winning a postgraduate scholarship and a Mansion House Fund scholarship in Irish language and literature; at UCD he wrote for the college magazine, the National Student. In 1930 he won a travelling scholarship in Celtic studies, and in 1931 graduated MA with first-class honours (his principal areas of study being Irish history and the Welsh language). He studied philosophy at the Ignatius Kolleg (the German Jesuit house of studies) at Valkenburg (near Limburg) in the Netherlands (1930–32). His scholarly mentors included Osborn Bergin (qv); Eoin MacNeill (qv), whose lectures Shaw recalled as 'unorthodox and unpredictable … they taught in action the way of research' (Martin and Byrne (1973), 303); Rudolf Thurneysen (qv), under whom he also studied at the University of Bonn (1932–3; he returned to Ireland prematurely because of ill health); and T. F. O'Rahilly (qv).

Shaw's presence in Germany during the Nazi seizure of power contributed to his abiding distaste for that movement. In 1935 he sparked public controversy by suggesting at a meeting in UCD that advocates of Irish-medium education for English-speaking children displayed a narrow nationalism comparable to Nazism; in April 1936 he published an article in the National Student denouncing Nazi persecution of catholicism, the regime's general lawlessness, and the writings of Nazi ideologue Alfred Rosenberg (1893–1946): 'this farrago of impiety, stupidity and ludicrous ignorance of history … a religion of race and racial hatreds, founded on pseudo-scientific theories which are discredited by all serious historians and ethnologists'.

Shaw undertook further study at UCD (1933–6); in 1934 he produced a highly praised edition of the Old Irish text Aisling Oengusso. During his studies at UCD he regularly presented papers to the Irish-language student society Cumann Liteardha na Gaeilge and taught at the Irish-language summer college in Ballingeary, Co. Cork. He studied theology at the Jesuit faculty in Milltown Park, Dublin (1936–40), where he was ordained priest on 31 July 1939. He was allowed to substitute a long retreat for tertianship studies because of his ill health, and became a professed Jesuit on 24 December 1945. From autumn 1940 until his death Shaw lived in the Jesuit community at 35 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin, of which he was superior (1945–51); he annually constructed the Christmas crib in its chapel. He was also a consultor of the Irish Jesuit province (1947–53).

Shaw initially expected to spend some years on research after ordination. In March 1941, however, he was appointed professor of early and mediaeval Irish at UCD in succession to Bergin through the influence of D. A. Binchy (qv), and held this post for the remainder of his life. Later in 1941 he was appointed to the board of the Institute for Advanced Studies, and in 1942 was elected MRIA. Shaw was a painstaking teacher, and assisted foreign students with evening tuition, often in their own languages. His sense of humour and combative argumentation brightened his lectures and survives in such published remarks as his dismissal of the wilder theories of the archaeologist R. A. S. Macalister (qv) regarding cross-cultural parallels: 'The swastika in Dublin is associated with laundrying [a reference to the well-known Swastika Laundry]. Therefore the Nazi movement is the cult of hygiene and Hitler is a soap-and-water god!' (Studies (June 1935), 320).

Shaw's devotion to teaching, combined with his poor health, meant that his research interests (mediaeval Irish medical tracts, whose significance in pioneering a simplified Irish free from the inflated rhetoric of the bardic schools he held to be greatly undervalued; ancient Irish clothing, houses and social life generally; the history of Celtic scholarship) found expression only in occasional publications, including articles and book reviews, in the Jesuit journal Studies and similar outlets. Shaw remarked that whenever he set about reducing his collection of typewritten transcripts of medieval medical texts to coherence he had to go to hospital.

Shaw was an outspoken opponent of T. F. O'Rahilly's thesis on the existence of two St Patricks, both on scholarly and devotional grounds: he held that mediaeval miracle tales and scholarly positivism alike hindered recognition of the deep interior spirituality found in the 'Confession' and 'Letter to Coroticus'. He was scathing about scholars who (unlike his hero MacNeill) relied on printed editions (often outdated) rather than reading manuscripts. A recurring theme is that vague and ignorant romanticisation hinders the Irish nation from recognising authentic heroes such as George Petrie (qv), Eugene O'Curry (qv) and Johann Kaspar Zeuss (qv).

Shaw held the view, common among social historians, that history paid too much attention to the powerful and articulate and should explore the experience of the common people. He was encouraged in this by love of country sports and the fields and rivers of his native lake country; he praised his fellow Westmeath man Fr Paul Walsh (qv) for supporting his topographical studies by walking the land, and claimed that MacNeill, as an Antrim 'countryman', understood Ireland better than did the urban Patrick Pearse (qv) and James Connolly (qv). As he grew older, he felt his own lifetime had witnessed the end of an immemorial rural Irish way of life, whose traces, he hoped, would at least be preserved in the records of the Folklore Commission. He thought that popular commercial culture, particularly from America, was debasing public taste, and lamented that the authentic romance and heroism found in lives of saints and missionaries were being eclipsed by the synthetic Hollywood varieties. In 1942 he published a pamphlet criticising the novel and film Gone with the wind for excessive 'realism' in their depictions of sexuality and childbirth and for superficiality in their depictions of catholicism. This rousing defence of literary censorship against 'long-haired intellectuals' appealed to readers to keep the faith even if the European war subjected Ireland to the same devastation as that suffered by the defeated states of the American south.

Shaw attributed the totalitarian movements of the twentieth century to the efforts of ideologues to force common humanity into utopian projects. His scepticism of state power was influenced by contemporary catholic social thought, and he saw Irish identity as essentially catholic; but, though this forms a subtext in his 1963 article on the essentially Roman nature of early Irish spirituality and his analysis of the 'Celtic twilight' of W. B. Yeats (qv) as owing more to Macpherson's Ossian (mediated through Arnold and Renan), the rhetorical inflation of Standish James O'Grady (qv), and 'the charlatan Blavatsky and Brahman philosophers' than to the authentic past as revealed by Celtic scholarship, Shaw was not a bigot. Throughout his career he lauded protestant scholars such as Edmund Curtis (qv), Edward John Gwynn (qv), and Douglas Hyde (qv); he admired Pope John XXIII and welcomed his attempt to open the catholic church to the world.

Shaw took a strong interest in radio for religious purposes and popular education; he gave several 'retreats for the sick' on Radio Éireann, encouraging listeners to mentally re-enact, in Ignatian style, the life of Jesus, and he contributed to the Thomas Davis lecture series on early Ireland. He also wrote on spiritual and other matters for the Jesuit devotional magazine, the Sacred Heart Messenger, and was active in An Rioghacht (the League of the Kingship of Christ) and the Sodality of the Sacred Heart. His illness gave him a particular interest in ministry to the sick; he was a frequent hospital visitor, and directed the sodality of the nursing staff at St Vincent's Hospital (1944–59). He was popular as a confessor and spiritual adviser, and frequently mediated family disputes in local households.

Dean of the faculty of Celtic studies in UCD (1964–70), he served in the NUI senate (1963–70), and was spoken of as a possible successor to Michael Tierney (qv) as president of UCD; he served as interim president after Tierney's resignation in 1964, but did not seek the post. During the 'gentle revolution' protests of the late 1960s, Shaw supported the 'establishment' group around President J. J. Hogan (qv), and his defeat in UCD governing body elections in December 1969 strengthened advocates of greater student participation in university governance. After a year's illness, Shaw died in a Dublin nursing home on 23 December 1970, and was buried in the Jesuit plot in Glasnevin cemetery.

Shaw's posthumous fame rests on an article published two years after his death. He had been invited to contribute an essay to the spring 1966 issue of Studies (commemorating the 1916 rising), but his 10,000-word article, 'Cast a cold eye … prelude to a commemoration of 1916', was turned down by the journal's editor (Fr Burke Savage) and the Jesuit provincial as over-long and inopportune. Shaw acquiesced, but prepared a 20,000-word version which circulated in typescript. In 1971 a copy was acquired by the New Ulster Movement (precursor of the Alliance Party), which saw the piece as directly relevant to the developing Northern Ireland troubles, and gave it further informal circulation. Under these circumstances, Fr Troddyn (editor of Studies) and the provincial decided that official publication would reassert their copyright and assist understanding of Irish current affairs; the article appeared in the summer 1972 issue of Studies (vol. lxi, no. 242, pp 113–53) under the title (chosen by Troddyn) 'The canon of Irish history: a challenge'.

In 'The canon of Irish history', Shaw attacks the four last pamphlets produced by Patrick Pearse in 1915–16 to justify the forthcoming Easter rising. The pamphlets, Shaw contends, equate the Gaelic tradition with physical-force separatism as the 'gospel of Irish nationality', with Wolfe Tone (qv), Thomas Davis (qv), James Fintan Lalor (qv), and John Mitchel (qv) as its 'four evangelists'; claim that John Redmond and his political allies committed national apostasy in accepting home rule rather than full independence as a final settlement; and equate the rebels, precipitating war and their own deaths to redeem a corrupted Ireland, with Jesus crucified to redeem sinful humanity. Shaw argues that Pearse projected Standish James O'Grady's essentially pagan concept of heroism and a modern republican ideology essentially alien to Irish society onto the Gaelic past; that Pearse and his allies denied and betrayed the concrete achievements and genuine patriotism of others, particularly Redmond and MacNeill; that Pearse, and by extension the whole physical-force republican tradition, engaged in blasphemous self-deification to justify imposing their will on the majority in a manner reminiscent of twentieth-century fascism and communism; and that the independent Irish state owes more to an older and broader popular sense of Irish nationality, which Redmond and MacNeill represented, than the irreligious and destructive mindset of Tone and Pearse.

'The canon' sums up the concerns of Shaw's lifetime. Its critique of Pearse resembles his 1930s critique of Yeats; its invocation of the horrors of twentieth-century European history reflects his longstanding sensitivity to those horrors; its vaguely defined but essentially catholic and rural-populist version of Irish identity reflects Shaw's lifelong self-presentation as spokesman and servant of the plain people of Ireland; and Redmond and MacNeill are cast, like Zeuss and Petrie, as heroes unjustly forgotten by those enjoying the fruits of their labours.

In 1966 Shaw had concluded his essay by hoping that recent moves towards north-south reconciliation indicated that both parts of Ireland, north and south, as well as Ireland and Britain, might recognise their commonalities and join in preserving the best in their cultures from American commercial cosmopolitanism. The essay's publication six years later, at the height of the Northern Ireland troubles, coincided with intensive debate (associated with such figures as Conor Cruise O'Brien (1917–2008)) about whether traditional Irish nationalist self-images had contributed to the conflict in Northern Ireland and threatened to unleash similar conflict in the Republic; this context gave the essay an explosive impact. An Irish Times editorial (11 September 1972) noted that Shaw's view of Pearse as a destructive ideologue comparable to Rosenberg raised awkward questions about numerous eulogies of Pearse as a model Christian patriot: 'Has every other cleric been wrong and only Father Shaw been right?' The Jesuits were accused by Cruise O'Brien of opportunism in suppressing Shaw's piece until it became convenient to distance the catholic church from militant nationalism (New York Review of Books, 25 January 1973), and by an Irish Press editorialist (1 September 1972) of re-enacting previous clericalist betrayals of Irish nationalism: 'The name of Pearse will easily survive this modern Shavian broadside.'

Shaw's essay has been subjected to extensive critique (Lyons, Lee, Ó Snodaigh) over its failures to place Pearse in context and to address the place of Irish protestants and unionists in Irish nationality; its dismissive attitude to republicanism and socialism; and its over-simplistic view that pre-1916 Ireland was a democracy. (Shaw also unduly minimises the political differences between Redmond and MacNeill.) It is still, however, regularly cited in debates about the relationship between nationalism and Irish historiography; when Studies marked its centenary by publishing a selection of essays from past issues, Shaw's essay was singled out by former Taoiseach John Bruton as 'the most startling essay in the volume'. Some who praised Shaw's critique of Pearse's sacrificial politics were advocates of a secularist liberalism which would have horrified Shaw, and the essay survived, when the man behind it was virtually forgotten, into an Ireland whose social and political attitudes he would have found unrecognisable.

Shaw's papers are held at the Irish Jesuit Archives, 35 Lower Leeson Street (reference J451), which also has files concerning the 1972 publication of 'The canon of Irish history' (CM/LEES/359, 383). A miniature plaster side-portrait by the sculptor Gary Trimble is held in the same building.

Westmeath Examiner, 24 Oct., 8 Nov. 1931; 28 July 1934; 16 Mar., 21 Sept. 1940; 15 Mar. 1941; Ir. Times, 10 Sept., 2 Oct. 1964; 11 Dec. 1969; 11 Sept. 1972 (includes F. S. L. Lyons, 'The shadow of the past', p. 12, on Shaw's 'The canon'); Marian Keaney, Westmeath authors: a bibliographical and biographical study (1969), 174–6; Ir. Independent, 25–8 Dec. 1970; obituary, by Fr Francis Finnegan, Irish Province News (1971), 76–8; M. Proinséas Ní Catháin, 'The academic and other writings of Rev. Professor Francis Shaw, SJ', Studies, lx, no. 238 (summer 1971), 203–07 [list is incomplete]; Studia Celtica, vii (1972), 177; Francis Shaw, 'MacNeill the person' in F. X. Martin and F. J. Byrne (ed.), The scholar revolutionary: Eoin MacNeill, 1867–1945, and the making of the new Ireland (1973), 299–311 (includes note on contributor, p. 300); Lochlann, vi (1974) [supplement to Norsk Tidsskrift for Sprogvidenskap, xi], 180–81; Pádraig Ó Snodaigh, Two godfathers of revisionism: 1916 in the revisionist canon (1991); Diarmuid Breathnach and Máire Ní Mhurchú, 1882–1982: Beathaisnéis, iii (1992), 152–3; J. J. Lee, '“The canon of Irish history: a challenge” reconsidered' in Toner Quinn (ed.) Desmond Fennell: his life and work (2001), 57–82; Philip O'Leary, Gaelic prose in the Irish Free State 1922–1939 (2004), 52; Michael Wheatley, Nationalism and the Irish party: provincial Ireland 1910–1916 (2005); Bryan Fanning (ed.), An Irish century: Studies 1912–2012 (2012); John Bruton, remarks at launch of Bryan Fanning (ed.), An Irish century, 21 Mar. 2012, www.johnbruton.com/2012/03/irish-century-studies-1912-2012.html (accessed 27 June 2012)

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 46th Year No 2 1971

Obituary :

Fr Frank Shaw SJ

The death of Father Shaw which took place at “96” on 23rd December, 1970 was not altogether unexpected. The news of his condition throughout the spring and summer was none too reassuring. He left us for the James Connolly Hospital, Blanchardstown, in March and during his stay there met with some minor accidents because of physical weakness. Later, while convalescing, he broke a leg and had to be transferred to the hospital at Navan. It seemed little less than a miracle that he should have returned to UCD. to lecture in the autumn. He paid us what proved to be a farewell visit in October. After some weeks of class-work at Belfield he had once more to go into hospital, at St. Vincent's, Elm Park, whence he was transferred to “96”, Father Frank had made many a recovery from serious illnesses over the years but this time it seemed presumptuous to expect a further prolongation of his life. The end came peacefully and painlessly just on the eve of Christmas Eve. His last thoughts may well have been that the coming Christmas Eve should be the first in so many years that he did not spend the day just outside our domestic chapel putting together the Christmas Crib.
Frank Shaw was born in Mullingar on 26th March, 1907 and was educated at the Christian Brothers' school in that town and afterwards at the Carmelite College, Terenure. He entered the novitiate at Tullabeg on 1st September 1924. After his first religious profession two years later he began his juniorate studies at Ratharnham. He had the good fortunate to meet at Rathfarnham Father Lambert McKenna who discerned in the young scholastic the desire and ability to engage in Irish studies. In after-life, Father Frank never failed to acknowledge the wholesome advice of Father Lambert whom he affectionately referred to as “The Bard'.
His success in the First Arts examination was such that he was advised to study for his degree in Celtic Studies. He graduated B.A. with First Class Honours in 1929 and at the end of the following year won the much coveted Travelling Studentship. But immediately after this success he set off for Valkenburg for his philosophy course. He completed this latter branch of studies in two years, 1930-32, and half-way through graduated M.A.
In the autumn of 1932 he set out for Bonn to enter on his higher studies. Here he had the good fortune to have Professor Rudolf Thurneysen to guide him. Professor Thurneysen, who had reached the age-limit, no longer held the chair but continued to lecture at the University. Frank, however, was not fated to complete his Travelling Studentship course under the celebrated professor. The following year he had to return to Dublin as the regime of life in Germany did not suit his delicate health. For the next two years, 1933-35, he was a member of the Leeson Street community and then spent a further year in private study at Rathfarnham before he went for theology to Milltown Park in the summer of 1936. Three years later he was ordained priest on the Feast of St. Ignatius. On the completion of his theology he once more joined the Leeson Street community where he was to spend the rest of his life. Because of his very frail health, he was excused from making the usual tertianship but did the Long Retreat at Rathfarnham.
When Father Frank returned to Leeson Street in 1940 it would seem that for the next ten or fifteen years he would be a research worker while gradually moving up the ranks of teaching responsibility. But early in 1941 the chair of Early and Medieval Irish was vacated by his former professor, Dr Osborn Bergin. So far as Father Frank or the rest of the community was concerned his elevation to the vacant post was not seriously considered. It was only when Professor Daniel Binchy suggested that he should present himself for the chair that Frank put his name forward. Thanks to so eminent a supporter as Professor Binchy, together with other admirers of the young Jesuit's ability, he was nominated Professor at a meeting of the Senate of the National University held in March, Thereafter he had to abandon any further extensive researches as his little energy had to be carefully husbanded to enable him to do justice to his students in the Celtic faculty.
His major published works were his critical edition of the early Irish text, Aislig Oenguso', which appeared in 1934 and his Medieval Medico-Philosophical Treatises in the Irish Language, an essay contribute to the Féil-Sgribhinn Eoin Mhic Néill (1940). Yet, making due allowance for the ill-health which never ceased to try him and the scrupulous care with which he imparted know ledge to his students, it is remarkable how much writing of lasting value he was able to achieve during all his professional career. His writing is to be found in many essays and reviews he contributed, chiefly to Studies. Some of his most searching reviews were written in his early student days but already he was giving advance notice of the interests in Celtic Studies that particularly attracted him. In 1930 appeared his pamphlet The Real St. Patrick, a best-seller ever since. Later critical essays were The Linguistic Argument for Two Patricks (1943), The Myth of the Second Patrick (1961), Post mortem on the Second Patrick (1962) and Early Irish Spirituality (1963). These are but a selection of the ably-presented essays from the pen of a scholar who at the end of his life could scarcely ever remember a day free from some pain or ache.
On 17th April, 1945 he was appointed Superior at Leeson Street and held office for the next six years. It was as Superior he made his final profession in the Society on Christmas Eve 1945. For the last ten years of his life he was spiritual father to the community who will long remember the devotion and high intelligence he brought to bear in presenting the word of God.
From his earliest years in the Society his superiors were aware that his health would always be cause for concern. Even in his days at Terenure College he had to be excused the usual dormitory regime of the other boarders and have a room to himself like the members of the community. It was the provision of this facility that determined Frank's parents to send him to school with the Carmelite Fathers rather than to Castleknock, where other members of his family had been educated. Yet, it should be said at once that Frank himself was never selfishly concerned about his health. Indeed, he had to be reminded frequently by superiors to spare himself. The preparation of lectures and the holding of classes cannot but have made heavy demands upon his fragile resources of strength but this sickly scholar was made of heroic stuff.
The boredom of being obliged to pass weeks on end at convalescent homes made him early in life aware of the misery of his fellow-patients. So it is not matter for surprise that throughout his priestly life of thirty years he became something of a legend in the Dublin hospitals for his devotion to the sick. Not a few Jesuits he helped in his time to face up to an unfavourable medical diagnosis and meet the supreme hour with gentle resignation to God's will. Scarce a day ever passed that inquiries did not reach Leeson Street, asking whether Frank could call at one or other of the city hospitals to solace the sick and their afflicted dependents. It was known also that he was frequently called upon to settle family disputes and restore harmony.
Inevitably the newspapers carried reports of his attendance at this funeral or that wedding or the baptism of the children of friends he had made in the academic world and the professional classes generally. What did not appear in the papers, however, was his attendance at the wedding of some poor artisan's daughter or the christening of his child, or his visits to the poor in their bereavements. He knew for instance that the newsboy's little son was about to make his First Holy Communion and not once or twice from his sick bed he would commission a member of the community when down town to buy some little memento appreciated on these occasions. His entering a sick-room gave one the feeling of something sacramental. The 'Retreats for the Sick which he broadcast in Holy Week are still spoken of by those whom they helped. Even when he himself was in hospital he was more concerned with the spiritual and physical health of his fellow-patients than he was with his own troubles.
His piety was simple. Like his own patron saint, Francis of Assisi, Father Frank had a great devotion to the mysteries of Christmas. Patients in St. Vincent's Hospital in the Green and in Blanchardstown Hospital will remember the loving care that he spent on building the magnificent cribs there. They were the out ward sign of his desire that others should share in that devotion, If they have a Christmas Crib in heaven, then Frank was busy his first Christmas there.
His devotion to the dead was remarkable. In all weathers when ho could manage to be out of bed he was off to a funeral to bring solace to the desolate. Like the Divine Master, he went about doing good.
There was a very human side to Frank. He was an intelligent man and could not fail to realise the fact. He was also a born dialectician and enthusiastically defended the weaker case in an argument. When he was up and about his presence at community recreation radiated sheer delight. In debate he was unyielding. One instance made history at Leeson Street. He was defending a patently weak case with his customary bravura when his contestant vigorously rejoined “Can't you keep to facts”. To this Frank replied “Can't we leave facts aside and keep to the argument?” He was also generous to a fault. If he felt that someone took hurt in an argument he spared no pains to explain matters and see to it that charity did not suffer.
For many years he was spiritual director to the Nurses' Sodality at St. Vincent's Hospital. One might well wonder whence came the energy to sustain him in keeping up to a routine of sermons or lectures ... a wearing experience even for those blessed with good health. But Frank was of that unselfish stuff that did not reckon the cost. The miracle of his life is that he accomplished so much in spite of so much ill-health.
A little-known side of his apostolate was his instruction of those intending to enter the Church. Only the recording angel will ever . be able to say how many wearying hours he spent in the parlour
in this very rewarding but exacting form of the ministry. His advice was frequently sought by those intending to enter the religious life. He was a much sought-after confessor and spiritual adviser. To the last he was extrovert, helping others to bear the daily cross in the following of a crucified Master. It is almost needless to be labour the point that in leaving us he has gone up with full hands to the judgement seat of that Master whom he so generously served.
FJF