Born: 13 August 1919, Griffith Avenue, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1938, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1953, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1956, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 23 April 1998, St Joseph’s, Shankill, Dublin

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

Brother of John O'Holohan - RIP 2018

Born at Holles Street Dublin

Brother of John O’Holohan - RIP 2018

Son of Patrick O’Holohan and Winifred Byrne. Father was a Civil Servant

Second of eight boys (1 deceased) with three sisters. Family lived at Bantry Road, Drumcondra, Dublin

Early education was at preparatory schools in Dublin and then he went to Presentation College Bray (1928-1931). He then went to O’Connells School and finally to Belvedere College SJ (1934-1938)

Born: 29 September 1927, Market Square, Kilrush, County Clare
Entered: 07 September 1945, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1959, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1963, Chiesa del Gesù, Rome, Italy
Died: 19 December 1997, St Joseph’s, Shankill, County Dublin

Part of the Sacred Heart, Limerick community at the time of death.

Father was a business man.

Elder of two boys.

Educated at Christian Brothers Primary and Secondary Schools in Kilrush for eight years, he then went to Mungret College SJ for two years.

by 1962 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying
by 1964 at Heythrop College, Oxford (ANG) teaching
by 1979 at Mount Street, London England (ANG) working

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 97 : Special Edition Summer 1998

Obituary

Fr Michael G O’Brien (1927-1997)

29th Sept. 1927: Born in Kilrush, Co. Clare
Early education: Christian Brothers and Mungret College
7th Sept. 1945: Entered the Society at Emo
12th March 1948: First Vows at Emo
1947 - 1950: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD
1950 - 1953: Tullabeg, Studied Philosophy
1953 - 1956: Mungret College, Teaching
1956 - 1960: Milltown Park, Studied Theology
31st July 1959: Ordained Priest at Milltown Park
1960 - 1961: Rathfarnham, Tertianship
1961 - 1963: Gregorian University, studied Ethics
1963 - 1967: Heythrop College, Lecturing in Ethics
1967 - 1970: Milltown Park, Lecturing in Ethics/Moral Theology
1970 - 1974: Mungret College, Teaching
1974 - 1978: Tullabeg, Retreats/work in Church
1978 - 1993: London, Farm Street Church work
1993 - 1997: Limerick, Sacred Heart Church work.
19th Dec. 1997; Died aged 70.

Michael was first admitted to Cherryfield Lodge in March 1996 following surgery. He was again admitted to Cherryfield in January 1997 in a confused and restless state. He was assessed by Doctor Cooney at St. Vincent's Hospital and diagnosed as suffering from a severe from of dementia. He was transferred to Crinken Nursing Home in July 1997, where he died peacefully on 19th December 1997. May he rest in the peace of Christ.

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Ephes 2, 10).

This text of St. Paul came to mind as I reflected on the strange contrast between Michael's early life as a professor of philosophy for seven short years (Heythrop 63 - 67 and Milltown Park 67 - 70) and the nineteen years of his later life as a dedicated Church-father first in Tullabeg (74 - 78) and later in Farm Street (78 - 93). His Jesuit superiors had judged him capable of teaching philosophy and presumably saw this as his life work as a Jesuit. But "we are God's workmanship" and God had other plans for Michael, After only seven years of faithful but stressful teaching, and after a dark-night of depression, God transformed him into the “Wounded Healer” who exercised such a fruitful ministry for four short years in Tullabeg and then for fifteen years in Farm Street. His apparent failure as a professor of philosophy must be seen as God's tempering of his chosen instrument: “Designer infinite - must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it?” In the dark hours of his depression Michael must have heard Christ's words to St. Paul addressed to him: “My grace is enough for you, for my power works best in weakness”, and with St. Paul he must have found the grace to reply: “gladly therefore will I rejoice in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest on me”.

There is convincing proof that Michael did have considerable academic ability. Joseph de Finance S.J. was the director of his doctoral studies in the Gregorianum (61 - 63). De Finance was the highly regarded Professor of ethics in the Gregorian University for twenty five years. In 1991 Michael presented to the Milltown library an autographed copy of his translation of de Finance's final work entitled: “An Ethical Enquiry”. This is a large volume of five hundred closely reasoned pages. In a prefatory note to the translation de Finance expresses “his deep gratitude to Fr. Michael O'Brien, SJ whose translation, faithful but not slavish, is marked by a concrete, figurative style which gives easier access to the ideas. Thus he has achieved his purpose which is and must be first of all service to the student”.

From this commendation of his director we can legitimately conclude that Michael was well equipped to teach the course of ethics assigned to him. If he proved less than successful as a teacher of ethics in Heythrop and Milltown the reason can be found in the academic turbulence that followed the conclusion of Vatican II. By now Thomistic Philosophy had lost its pride of place even in seminary schools and the “philosophia perennis” had lost its perennial vigour. In the academic supermarket it had passed its 'sell-by' date!

Michael as a product of an older tradition would have still seen philosophy (especially ethics) as the “Handmaid of Theology” - but the handmaid had become restive and even insubordinate since John 23rd had encouraged a more open dialogue with the modern world. Had Michael begun his teaching twenty or even ten years earlier I feel he might well have been a respected and successful professor.

The controversy that followed on Paul VI's Humanae Vitae with its forthright condemnation of contraception, must have made Michael's work as a regular preacher and confessor more difficult. Joseph Fuchs, Professor of Moral Theology in the Gregorian, and Jim Healy and others in Ireland had advocated a more liberal approach and felt that “legitimate dissent” was justified. Michael, on the other hand, regarded fidelity to the teaching of the Magisterium as the very touchstone of orthodoxy. He always remained a totally committed defender of the papal decisions. In his work as a preacher and confessor he must have helped wavering penitents to remain faithful to that decision even if he must also have had to share the pain of others who found the official teaching a burden too heavy to bear.

For the people of the midlands who came to him in the old church at Tullabeg as for the Londoners who came to him at Farm Street, Michael was a good shepherd and a wounded healer. Again and again they pay tribute to his gentleness, his unassuming friendly manner, and his being a good listener. He was like the Servant in the prophecy of Isaiah (50): “The Lord had given him the tongue of those who are taught that he might know how to sustain with a word him that is weary” and “had woken his ear to hear the cry of the broken-hearted”. Again like the servant he was open-hearted in his welcome for the prodigal son or daughter: “the bruised reed he would not break and the dimly burning wick he would not quench”.

To quote a few of the testimonies from grateful parishioners received by his rector after his death:
“Ten years ago my life was in a mess. Fr, O'Brien helped me to rebuild my life”. A lady from East Anglia told of his kindness to her husband who suffered from Alzheimer's for many years. A man spoke of his patient attention to his wife during her long illness and how she always felt the better of his visits. A teacher who used to prepare children for their First Communion recalled his lovely way with the children who used to look forward to his visits.

Michael was admitted to Cherryfield in January 1997 in a confused and restless state. I joined him on many walks by the Dodder or to Palmerstown or Marley Park. He showed little interest in what attracted my attention - the trees, the flowers, the ducks in the river. His interest was in the people we met, always ready to say a friendly word and get into conversation if possible. He wanted to help people. He had told me he used to spend his free days from Farm Street, in one or other of the London Parks. Though he was naturally rather shy and reserved he seemed to have developed an apostolate of friendly affability towards strangers, winning their confidence and lending them “a listening ear”. I feel sure that many of Michael's walks in the London Parks became “Emmaus Walks” when he “sustained with a word the weary or the lonely”.

I visited Michael often in his last months in St. Joseph's, Crinken. There was a profound pathos in the sensitive concern he still showed towards fellow patients only a little more in need of healing than himself. The severe form of dementia that had been diagnosed in the summer had progressively withdrawn him from normal human contact. Now Michael was finally “in the hands of God” - “the initiative was totally with God”, for he was, in the beautiful Irish expression, a “Duine le Dia” - a person plunged into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection but like the baptised infant unaware of his life hidden with Christ in God.

He was not able to share “the deeply spiritual experience to know oneself completely in His hands” that Fr. Arrupe spoke of. But in these last mysterious weeks of Michael's life the Divine Artist was putting the final touches to the masterwork which he had begun at Michael's baptism in the church in Kilrush seventy years before.

May he rest in peace.

Edward Fitzgerald, SJ

-oOo-

During his fifteen years on the church staff at Farm Street, Michael O'Brien was loved and respected by many people for his approachability and evident care of them, his prayerfulness and regularity in the church, and his humorous homely anecdotes which were a feature of his straightforward and direct sermons. He was prepared to put himself out for people, and they sensed it. Our non-Catholic doctor spoke warmly of the many visits Michael paid some years ago to his elderly mother in St. George's Hospital before she died. Michael was very regular in his habits and that meant people in need could easily contact him. Often in the church or its environs saying his Rosary. Regularly at the church door to greet people after every Sunday Mass or Holy Day of Obligation, but standing back very modestly when the Parish Priest was around. Michael had a deep affection for the poor. It was very hard for him not to give. He gave not only money (perhaps unwisely at times) but also his time and his attention, sometimes at risk to his own safety.

Throughout my years as Superior and Parish Priest I found Michael a great and dependable support, and a wise and good friend. Farm Street was a residence made into a small parish only in the 1960's. Few Catholics actually lived within the rather grand parish boundaries. Most of the congregation, regular or casual, came from outside, and many more were tourists staying in the twenty or so prestigious hotels in Mayfair. But Michael tried to make Farm Street as much a parish as possible, organising First Communions and confirmations, catechism classes, old people's functions, days of prayer and other devotions. Much of this was for the less affluent residents, such as the families of Indian or Philippino caretakers or hotel workers, quite a few of whom were Irish and warmed to him in a special way. But Michael was blinded as far as class or nation or prestige went. All were just people to be served with respect and devotion.

Michael means a lot to me personally because it can be said that he was instrumental in saving my life, or saving me from serious injury, by happening to be in a certain spot in place of me. I was taking my turn as “duty priest” (to be called to the door on request), but had just left for the church to prepare to say the mid-day Mass. So Michael was called to the door in my place. A deranged man stabbed him in the neck. He was saved from fatal injury by his old-fashioned clerical collar. My new-fangled strip of plastic wouldn't have done the job. Michael was obviously very shaken by the incident and had several weeks of convalescence after he came out of hospital. But he remained very matter-of-fact and modest about it all.

For all his gentleness, devotion to duty and sensitive concerns for others, there was a shadow side to Michael. He suffered from scruples, especially in sexual matters. He agonised about the confessional, while being meticulous about his duties there. I think it was because of this scrupulosity that he had to give up lecturing in Ethics some years before, which was the reason for his coming to us, a welcome acquisition to Farm Street. In my time as Parish Priest he suffered from debilitating bouts of scruplosity which led to a breakdown, hearing inner voices, having to be withdrawn for several months from pastoral work of any kind and only gradually and with great care being nursed back to assisting with Holy Communion, then to saying Mass, then even to being able to preach and hear confessions again. This must have been very humbling for a man to whom priestly ministry meant so much, Incidentally, I was very impressed with the care Phil Harnett showed at this time when he visited us in his capacity of Irish Provincial and very sensitively arranged for Michael's eventual return to Ireland, but without rush or fuss, sensibly planned and monitored, respecting Michael's dignity as a Jesuit, as a priest. Michael deserved no less for the many years he had given to Farm Street.

Anthony Nye, SJ

Born: 24 June 1917, Edward Street, Armagh, County Armagh
Entered: 07 September 1937, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1951, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1954, Belvedere College SJ,Dublin
Died: 08 December 1995, St Joseph’s, Shankhill, County Dublin

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

Father was an engineer and died in 1936. Mother was then supported by her daughters.

Only boys with two sisters.

Early education at Sacred Heart Convent School in Armagh, and then at the Christian Brothers Secondary School Armagh. He then went to St Patrick’s College, Armagh.

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 86 : July 1996
Obituary
Fr Brian Cullen (1917-1995)

24th June 1917: Born, Armagh, Northern Ireland
Education: CBS, St. Patrick's College, Armagh
7th Sept. 1937: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1939: First Vows at Emo
1939 - 1943: Rathfarnham, Arts and H Dip in Education, UCD
1943 - 1946: Tullabeg, Philosophy
1946 - 1947: Crescent College, Teaching
1947 - 1948: Belvedere College, Teaching
1948 - 1952: Milltown Park, Theology
31st July 1951; Ordained at Milltown Park
1952 - 1953: Rathfarnham, Tertianship
1953 - 1962: Belvedere, Teacher, Choirmaster
1962 - 1995: Clongowes:
1962-70: Teacher and Prefect of Study Hall
1970-81: Promoting S.R.P.A. and teaching in Naas Technical College.
1981-82: Promoting S.R.P.A. and teaching in Prosperous Vocational School.
1982-90: Promoting Society for Relief of Poor and Aged (S.R.P.A)
1990-95: Retired from active apostolate due to ill health.
8th Dec, 1995; Died.

All his life, Brian Cullen remained proud of his Armagh origins. He was proud of having been an altar server of Cardinal McRory and of having known his successors down the years. His contemporaries recall his powerful build as a novice, his fine voice and his prowess on the violin. In his scholastic years, he was often given the role of choirmaster. He was gifted with his hands; he could make almost anything. As a scholastic in Milltown, he helped Jim Lynch and John McAuley install the first internal phone system in Clongowes!

Brian was of shy disposition, preferring the company of one to a group. Although a bit of a loner, he had a roguish sense of humour. One of his year said of him that “he kept custody of the eyes, yet took everything in!” On one occasion in Rathfarnham Castle he slept it out and missed morning oblation. When he finally appeared on the juniors' corridor he spotted Charlie O'Connor, the minister of juniors, at the chapel end, so he about turned and headed off down the back stairs to the stone corridor on the ground floor. The O'Conor Don, dutiful by nature, pursued him. All in vain; the unrecognised scholastic had vanished into a brush room!

A fellow philosopher in Tullabeg with an interest in the grounds used knock on scholastics' doors for volunteers for outdoor works. Whenever he asked Brian, “Visne rastrare, frater?”. Would you like to do some raking, brother?. Brian used answer with a roguish smile, “Non hodie, Frater”, Not today, brother. On a famous occasion also in Tullabeg, when the rector was away, the scholastics planned a meal in the chemistry lab. Brian's contribution was to supply the chicken. A contemporary recalls Brian returning from the farm, rosary beads in one hand, the dead chicken in the other. Such moments provided a welcome break from class and study that was far from being student friendly.

What carried Brian through these years was his strong desire to be a priest. According to one of his year, “There was nothing Brian wanted more than to be a priest”. His priestly life was spent in two houses: Belvedere and Clongowes. He liked Belvedere and I am told that initially he found the change to Clongowes enormously trying.

Brian's quiet voice and shyness did not help him to establish authority in the classroom. It made teaching difficult. It explains why as the years went by he did less and less teaching and was given the job of study prefect, supervising one of the large study halls: a job he did not like.

These were difficult years, but Brian was not without the capacity to respond creatively. For several years he taught in the Vocational School in Naas and in the mid-sixties started the SRPA (Society for the Relief of the Poor and Aged). He had became aware of many old people living within a few miles of Clongowes, some of whom were on their own and living in poor housing. He saw that responding to their needs could also be a "schola affectus" for the older boys.

For twenty-five years this great work became the focus for all his energies, skills and compassion. He built up a well run organisation. Each year he made a careful selection from the members to form his committee. He taught them how to grow plants, make all sorts of toy animals, dolls, soldiers, lamp-stands and so much else which were sold on Union Day to raise funds.

On Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays his white van would be seen around the country roads dropping off the boys in pairs to visit, clean, paint, chop firewood or just chat with an old person. Eyes were opened, and hearts were moved to respond. Many boys attained a responsibility that might not otherwise have been attained. The SRPA shed occupied a sort of extra territorial status within the school! Prefects and teachers respected this embassy-like status, and never entered. The SRPA was not confined to Clongowes. A branch still functions in Rathnew girls school, and for a time there were other branches in towns where former members lived. Brian wrote out a constitution to guide its development.

One cannot understand Brian without knowing something of his family. When he joined the Society, his mother was already widowed, his older sister Rita was an invalid, and his younger sister, Sally, a nurse in England. Brian worried about them and sought to attend to their needs as best he could. This was especially true of his time in Belvedere when he made many journeys to Armagh at weekends, sometimes “sub rosa’. Perhaps it was through them that he grew sensitive to the needs of the sick and the old.

My first meeting with Brian was not very auspicious! While on a visit to Clongowes as a scholastic, I asked him how the SRPA was going. I got the initials mixed up calling it the SPRA or something. Brian looked at me and said, “You are typical of the Province, you have no interest in what I am doing.....” This unexpected response was perhaps an indication that he felt his work was not appreciated by his brethren.

Ten years later when I was stationed in Clongowes we came to know one another better. It was the year before his stroke. He was still running the SRPA I remember being with him in Rathnew at the opening mass of the year for their ŞRPA. In community he enjoyed the company of some who could pull his leg. With others he was not at ease. Community meetings were not his joy! At recreation his conversation often went back to things of the past which did not make it easy for younger people to engage with him.

He always had a strong sense of priesthood and was most faithful to daily mass, office, and rosary. Brian loved nothing more than to head off in his van for a few days to visit friends. He hated to be tied down. He loved the independence of being able to come and go as he wanted. He was truly blessed in having wonderful friends. It was in their company that he was most at ease, most himself.

In June 1990 all was to change. While staying with his good friends, Maurice and Anne Dowling in Carlow, he suffered a stroke. After a fortnight in St. Vincent's the prognosis was not good. His speech was greatly impaired and conversation was difficult. The medical advice was that he would need some nursing care. I remember telling him that he would be going to Hazel Hall nursing home in Clane. He accepted it without complaint, mentioning he knew it from his visits. Thus began a stay of twenty months. He was well looked after. But it was not home. The day was long and he was often anxious; numerous were the telephone calls to Br. Cha Connor whose care of him was second to none. While he liked to be brought to Clongowes for his lunch, he was always anxious to leave again immediately afterwards. This was a time of adjustment; gone was his van, his bedroom in the castle, the SRPA work. Yet in all this he was sustained by visits from friends and Jesuits and his deep faith in God. In the midst of his confusion he never forgot the things of God and received Holy Communion with utmost reverence. From time to time he indicated his desire to go to confession, through some wordless gesture that I came to know. The mystery of the sacrament was deepened by his utter humility and my inability to understand anything he said.

Then came a moment of crisis that turned into a blessing. Brian began to get confused about which room was his! The nursing home with great regret told us they could not keep him any longer. There was a brief stay in Cherryfield followed by some time in St. John of God's, Stillorgan. It was while in Stillorgan that his close friends of twenty five years, Bill and Bridie Travers, asked if they could look after him in their country hotel in Prosperous, two miles from Clongowes. Their kindness and that of their family to Brian was truly wonderful. He remained with them until his health deteriorated still further and necessitated his going to the new St. John of God's nursing home in Shankill for his last three months.

It was fitting that Brian died in the company of Bill and Bridie, who along with their family had taken turns to keep vigil with him during his last week. Fitting too that Brian who had such love for Our Lady should have died in the early hours of the 8th December.

Charlie Davy SJ

◆ The Clongownian, 1996

Obituary

Father Brian Cullen SJ

The death took place of Fr Brian Cullen SJ, founder and first director of the Society for the Relief of the Poor and Aged (SRPA) on the feast of the Inmaculate Conception, 8 December 1995, at St Joseph's Nursing Home, Shankill, Co. Dublin. The following is an extract from the homily preached at Fr Cullen's funeral Mass by Fr Kieran Hanley SJ, for many years his colleague in the Jesuit community and its Rector 1983-89.

Seventy-eight years ago Fr Brian Cullen was born in Armagh on 24 June 1917. He certainly had a happy life as a schoolboy with good parents and two devoted sisters. He always spoke with a certain nostalgia of Armagh. Every step leading up to that majestic cathedral on its imposing hill, every stone of the cathedral itself, he loved with some thing akin to awe and reverence. His days were spent in the school under the shadow of the cathedral, in the care of the Vincentians, at St Patrick's College.

When Brian was twenty, his father died and in that same year, 1937, he joined the Jesuits. He did all the normal studies performed by young Jesuits at that time. In 1939-45, owing to the war, his opportunity of going abroad to study in Spain or France or Germany did not materialise. He was ordained priest on 31 July 1951 at Milltown Park.

After ordination he spent nine years teaching at Belvedere, where he had been a scholastic for a year, and the remainder of his life was here in Clongowes. At this stage his mother had poor health and needed constant care. The younger sister developed some sort of paralysis and was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. The other sister had taken up nursing and eventually became matron of a hospital in London. But she too developed a form of illness that necessitated confinement to a wheelchair. For many years Fr Cullen spent all his Christmas, Easter and summer holidays attending to the three patients. This was undertaken without a word of complaint - it was really heroic work and I doubt if anyone heard a tiny grumble from him.
I also think that few were quite aware of the strain that was involved in his life, as he was working during term-time - for eight years he was prefect of the Big Study in Clongowes and then he worked for twelve years in Naas Technical College (1970-81) and Prosperous Vocational School (1981-82).

In 1968 he started the SRPA among the boys in Clongowes. This was a labour of love for Fr Brian. The Lord blessed him with a marvellous pair of hands that could make umpteen sorts of Christmas toys for children that were really works of art. These were sold on Union Day to raise funds for the SRPA. He worked very hard and was a keen judge of a boy's gifts and sense of responsibility. He liked the boys and they appreciated his ideals and what he was trying to do. His work was good for them. The SRPA was his brain-child in every detail, from start to finish. During the years when I was Rector, many past Clongownians asked me how Fr Cullen was. They were obviously past members of the SRPA. This association gave Fr Brian a great sense of fulfillment. He did trojan work in a very professional way and there is no reason why the work of the SRPA should not continue to prosper and thrive.

So, our prayers and the Mass this morning are in thanksgiving for the work Fr Brian Cullen did through the gifts that God gave him. This brought him great joy but also, I fancy, a certain sense of worry and pain, which no doubt eventually brought on the stroke that God, in his plan for Brian, asked him to carry until his death.

Luckily he was blessed by certain families who were very good to him - like the Powers of Co. Waterford, the Dowlings of Carlow and the Travers of Curryhills in Kildare. The Travers nursed him with extraordinary care and love. I speak for the Jesuits and all I can say is this: may the Lord reward them for their wonderful devotion and genuine kindness. It certainly made Fr Cullen's last five years on this earth that much more tolerable under such difficult circumstances.

We pray for Fr Brian, his cousins and those who loved him, and we offer them the comfort of our sympathy,

-oOo-

Fr Charlie Davy, Fr Hanley's successor as Rector of Clongowes, writes:

In the mid-sixties Fr Cullen started the SRPA. He had become aware of many old people living within a few miles of Clongowes, some of whom were on their own and living in poor housing. He saw that responding to their needs could also be a schola affectus (a school of love) for the older boys.

For twenty-five years this great work became the focus for all his energies, skills and compassion. He built up a well-run organisation. Each year he made a careful selection from the members to form his committee. He taught them how to grow plants, make all sorts of toy animals, dolls, soldiers, lamp stands and so much else which were sold on Union Day to raise funds.
On Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays his white van could be seen around the country roads dropping off the boys in pairs to visit, clean, paint, chop firewood or just chat with
a old person. Eyes were opened, and hearts were moved to respond. Many boys attained a responsibility that might not otherwise have been attained. The SRPA shed occupied a sort of extra-territorial status within the school! Prefects and teachers respected this embassy like status and never entered. The SRPA was not confined to Clongowes. A branch still functions in Rathnew, and for a time there were other branches in towns where former members lived. Brian wrote out a constitution to guide its development.

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

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

Parents were National School Teachers

Eldest of three boys

Early education with his father (Timothy) and in 1935 went with his brother to Clongowes Wood College SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul Leonard SJ

◆ The Clongownian, 1995
Obituary
Father Seán Casey SJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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