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

Father was a doctor. Family lived at Fitzwilliam Square, Dublin City.

Younger of two boys.

Early education at a kindergarten and CUS, Dublin he went to Clongowes Wood College SJ for five years.

by 1963 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying

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

Obituary
Fr Jim Healy (1929-1993)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ray Moloney