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McCabe, Kenneth W, 1935-2013, former Jesuit scholastic, priest of Westminster Diocese

  • IE IJA ADMN/7/147
  • Person
  • 07 January 1935-06 February 2013

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

Left Society of Jesus: 20 June 1966

Father was Superintendent of the Guards and the family lived at John’s Mall, Birr, County Offaly.

Third of five boys with two sisters.

Early education was at a Convent school and then at the Presentation Brothers in Birr for nine years, and then at Mungret College SJ for three years.

Priest of the Westminster Diocese, England

Funeral at Milltown Park, Dublin

Buried in Glasnevin Cemetery in the Jesuit burial plot.

Address 2000 & 1991: More House, The Grove, Isleworth, Middlesex, England

Irish Jesuit News, February 20, 2013

Mourning Fr Ken McCabe

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

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

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

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

Interfuse No 151 : Spring 2013

Obituary

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

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

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

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

A personal appreciation by Kevin O'Higgins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

◆ Mungret Annual, 1959

Behind the Jesuit Curtain

Kenneth McCabe SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Update - 9/2/2013

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

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

O'Connor, Charles E, 1920-2014, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/851
  • Person
  • 12 December 1920-03 February 2014

Born: 12 December 1920, Ballybunion, County Kerry
Entered: 07 September 1938, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1952, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1955, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 03 February 2014, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Transcribed HIB to ZAM 03 December 1969; ZAM to HIB : 31 July 1982

Son of Patrick O’Connor and Rita Lynch. Father was an auditor and family lived at Charlemont Terrace, Wellington Road, Cork City.

Eldest of two with one sister.

Early education was eight years at CBC Cork.

by 1955 at Chikuni, Chisekesi, N Rhodesia (POL Mi) Regency
by 1970 at Fulham, London (ANG) studying
by 1990 at Biblicum, Rome, Italy (DIR) Sabbatical

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 155 : Spring 2014

Obituary

Fr Charles E (Charlie) O’Connor (1920-2014)

Jim Corkery's homily at funeral Mass, 5 February 2014

It is a privilege for me, for Conall as the Rector of Charlie's community and for Tom Layden as his Provincial, to play a special role in this Eucharistic celebration today, to give thanks for Charlie's long and fruitful life. Such a privilege sometimes falls these days to Jesuits around our age in relation to someone we affectionately call an older Father; and with Charlie it has been, for us, a particular blessing to accompany him in later periods of his life: a blessing because he is so open, so trusting and willing to disclose himself, so human.... Charlie is (I don't say “was”) a Jesuit companion who lets you get to know him; and he wants to know you too. His legendary humanity, his openness to young people - particularly to the young Jesuits who lived in Hatch Street while he was there from 1993 to 2007 - stand out in my mind and make it unsurprising that, since his death two days ago, emails have come in from Joe Palmisano in the U.S. and José de Pablo in Brussels, to bid him farewell and to say how much they appreciated and loved him.

Charlie, “unphony” to the hilt, loved to see and to know people as they really are. In the words of the First Letter of John, chosen for today, we are told that we shall see God as he really is (1 Jn. 3:2). Charlie will relish that. A man of friendships, most assuredly of friendship with God nourished over the years through his praying of the Gospels – he “drank them in” - Charlie knew the Father through the Son; and if he came to the Father through the Son during his life, he did so fully two days ago when he left for the place that the Son had prepared for him (John 14:2). He will relish his encounter with God in Christ. Charlie, who loved to see others as they really are, will rejoice to overflowing on seeing God as he really is.

You see, as we live, so we pray! Charlie lived above all in friendships – you are all testimony to that here this morning. From his fourteen years in Zambia as a young priest through to the final years of his life, it was person-to-person encounter that meant the most to Charlie, Catherine knows this very deeply after four and a half decades of companionship with him, where together they laboured, and laughed, and simply were...in their shared companionship with the Lord. All of you, Charlie's friends and relatives, have been friends-with-him-in-the Lord. His theology - and he had a lively, curious, theological mind! - never allowed him to put God in one place and those he loved in another. He brought his friends to God and God to his friends.

All of you here today have our own special memories of Charlie; I encourage you to keep these alive. I hope – I know you will - recognize in what I say about his gift for friendship something of your own personal experience. Charlie had wide and varied friendships, but he was the same Charlie, the one, recognizable, unphony Charlie in them all. In the Hatch St. Jesuit community, where I arrived with him in 1993 and spent the next twelve years with him there, we 'made memories.' And a thing he particularly liked – perhaps more so in the latter years when he was getting older and I had a special responsibility of care for him - was to disappear sometimes from the house to a place of no distractions (often the Conrad Hotel across the road and never without a glass of wine, I admit!) and to talk without interruption about the things that really mattered to him. It was in such conversation that he opened himself up to me...and did a good job of prising me open too! As I said, he loved seeing people as they really are; and he will be overjoyed at seeing God as God really is!

So, we will miss this good man, with his humanity, his deep spirituality, his gift for befriending, his love of creation (just think of the garden in Wicklow, or the fire there in winter-time) and his mischievous laughter. He told me once that he had lived in my home-town, Limerick, for a while when he was young - and had hated it! I got him to admit, however, that while he didn't like Limerick, he certainly liked limericks. The words “there was a young fellow from...” would always send him into chortles of laughter, his ears cocked for the naughty finishing line!

Where is all that now, we may ask, as his life has ended and he has gone from us? It's only natural that, remembering his love of life, we wish him the fullness of life now. But we wonder how it is for him. From our scripture readings today - without at all being able to imagine what Charlie is experiencing now - we do know, as has been said, that he will “see God as he really is”. We can be sure that, as he nears the heavenly Jerusalem, he is where God dwells with his people and that every tear is wiped from his eyes, his sufferings are ended, and there is no more death or mourning (Apoc. 21: 1-4). We know that our hearts need not be troubled (John 14: 1) because Jesus, in whose footsteps Charlie (literally!) walked many times, has gone “to prepare a place for him” (John 14: 2)...and there he looks on Jesus as he really is. So, even though we cannot be with Charlie any longer, we can be consoled by these promises in the readings. The words of the funeral liturgy will shortly remind us that “the ties of friendship do not unravel with death”. This touches into something of the deeper meaning of our faith in the resurrection of the body and it assures us that Charlie's going to God does not mean that he is sundered from us.

To Catherine, in particular, I say: the care that Charlie had for you, and the care and devotion that you showed him to the end, do not unravel with death. The jewel of your friendship goes with him to God and, as he sees God's face, he does not lose sight of yours. So, while the loss of him is sad, you are not lost from him, nor he from you. No fragment of genuine love is ever lost. In that sense, we all remain, each in our own way – whether through Zambia, or the LRA, or the prayer group, or the Holy Land, or the ecumenical group, or spiritual direction - with Charlie, who is “with Christ” (Phil. 1:23). May he rest in peace! May he enjoy, may he delight in, seeing God as he really is! Amen.