Born: 31 March 1923, Drumcondra, Dublin
Entered: 06 September 1941, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 28 July 1955, Milltown Park , Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1959, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 19 April 2018, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

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

Brother of Colm O’Holohan - RIP 1998

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

Fourth of eight boys (1 deceased) with three sisters.

Early education was at a Convent school in Bray and then one in Dublin and then he went to Presentation College Bray (1928-1931). He then went to a Christian Brothers school in Dublin. He then went to to Belvedere College SJ (1934-1941)

by 1958 at Gandia, Valencia, Spain (TARR) making Tertianship
by 1994 at Orlando FL, USA (NOR) working
by 2001 at Simpsonville SC, USA (NOR) working
by 2004 at Lancaster SC, USA (NOR) working

Early education at Loreto Convent Bray, CBS St. Canice's NCR; Belvedere College SJ

1943-1946 Rathfarnham - Studying Arts at UCD
1946-1949 Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1949-1952 Belvedere College SJ - Regency : Teacher; Studying H Dip in Education at UCD (49-50)
1952-1956 Milltown Park - Studying Theology
1956-1957 St Mary’s, Emo - Assistant Socius; Bursar; Teacher; Confessor;
1957-1958 Gandia, Valencia, Spain - Tertianship in Palacio del Santo Duque
1958-1960 Mungret College SJ - Teacher
1960-1965 Belvedere College SJ - Teacher; Directs Conf VdP; Editor of “Belvederian”
1965-1966 Chivuna Mission, Zambia - Studying CiTonga
1966-1978 Chisekesi, Zambia - Teacher ; Spiritual Father; St John Berchmans Sodality; Editor “Canisian” at Canisius College, Chikuni
1969 Transcribed to Zambia Province [ZAM] (03/12/1969)
1978-1981 Mazabuka, Zambia - Teacher and Spiritual Father at St Edmund’s Secondary School
1981-1982 Sabbatical
1982-1986 Zomba, Malawi - Acting Rector; Professor of Moral Theology; Directs Pastoral Ministry at St Peter’s Major Seminary
1986-1987 Luwisha House, Lusaka, Zambia - Teacher at Juniorate; Writer, Director National Apostleship of Prayer, Edits Newsletter
1987-1988 Spokane, WA, USA - Pastor at The Ministry Institute
1988-1992 DeLand, FL, USA - Assistant Pastor at St Peter's Catholic Church
1992-2000 Orlando, FL, USA - Assistant Pastor at Holy Family Catholic Church
1992 Transcribed to Irish Province [HIB] (24/11/1992)
2000-2003 Simpsonville, SC, USA - Associate Pastor at St Mary Magdalene Catholic Church
2003-2009 Lancaster, SC, USA - Pastor at St Catherine Catholic Church
2007 Pastor at St Joseph Parish, Chester, SC; Pastor at St Michael’s, Great Falls, SC
2009-2018 Gardiner St - Writer; Chaplain St Monica’s; Locum in Mater Hospital; People’s Church in Clongowes
2014 Prays for the Church and the Society at Cherryfield Lodge

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/remembering-john-oholohan-sj/

Remembering John O’Holohan SJ
Fr John O’Holohan SJ died peacefully at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin on 19 April 2018 aged 95 years. Prayers were said at Cherryfield Lodge on 22 April, and his funeral Mass took place at Milltown Park Chapel on 23 April, followed by burial at Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin.
Born in 1923, John grew up in Drumcondra, Dublin and was educated at Belvedere College SJ in Dublin City. He entered the Jesuit novitiate at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois in 1941. He studied arts at UCD and philosophy at Tullabeg, County Offaly. He did his regency as a teacher in Belvedere while also studying for the Higher Diploma in Education at UCD. He was ordained in 1955 after further studies in theology at Milltown Park, Dublin. John continued to teach in Jesuit schools in Ireland and did his tertianship in Spain.
In 1965, John went to the missions in Zambia. There, he learned the Chitonga language, taught in schools, and ministered as Spiritual Father among other roles. He was transcribed to the Zambia Province in 1969. He continued to mission in Zambia except for a period as a key formator in St Peter’s Major Seminary in Malawi from 1982-1986. He was the national director of the Apostleship of Prayer in Zambia from 1986- 1987.
In his later years, John worked in pastoral ministry in the United States from 1987-2009. First in Washington state as pastor, then in Florida as assistant pastor, and later as associate pastor and pastor in South Carolina. In the meantime, he was transcribed to the Irish Province again. He returned to Ireland as a member of the Gardiner Street Community in Dublin where he was a writer among other positions. Notably, John celebrated his 90th birthday in 2013, and he finished the day by watching reports of the election of Pope Francis.
He moved to Cherryfield Lodge nursing home in 2014 where his family visited him very often, and he was most appreciative of the care he received there. John died peacefully on the evening of 19 April in the loving care of the staff at Cherryfield. He is deeply regretted by his sisters Dympna Cunningham and Nesta Tuomey, his brother-in-law Larry, his nephews, nieces and extended family, his Jesuit Community and by many friends in the United States.
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

The Early Years – in appreciation of my brother John Terry O’Holohan SJ by Nesta Tuomey
As I often told you your influence on me when I was growing up gave me my strong faith in Jesus Christ and your loving chats about God and the saints so interesting and inspiring, they led me to know and want to love Him from an early age. When you took my sister and myself on walks in the Botanic Garden I particularly remember your stories about Wopsy, the little angel, who was always getting into trouble but when he saw the error of his ways he was penitent and tried to do better. He was the role model for me when I was as young as five or six and I loved hearing about him and all the adventures he had. When you were appointed to Belvedere College you would often bring the boys’ essays home with you and allow us to read them, even, at times, to allot marks in order of excellence. All very exciting and heady stuff for ones as young as we were then. Of course, you would put your own marks on the actual copies but it taught us literary appreciation and perception. I remember being intrigued by the letters A.M.D.G. written at the top of each copybook page. When I asked, you explained what the letters stood for – Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam which was the Latin motto for the Society of Jesus founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola and meant ‘To the greater glory of God’. We enthusiastically imitated the Belvedere boys and put A.M.D.G. at the top of our exercise copies until the Sacred Heart nuns at our school in Leeson Street gently bid us to desist.
Undoubtedly, you passed on to us your own fervour and love of St. Ignatius and when you were ordained you chose to spend your Tertianship at Valencia in Spain, despite the rigorous regime this would entail. When you returned to Ireland after a year away, you could speak Spanish and loved to tell us of St. Ignatius and how he came from a very wealthy family and what a proud aristocratic man he was. How when his leg was severely injured by a cannon ball at the Battle of Pamplona he courageously endured the agony of having it broken again and set without benefit of anaesthetic, rather than endure the mortification of walking for the rest of his life with a limp. During his long convalescence, as his leg slowly healed, he underwent a religious conversion. The only books available to him were the lives of the saints but, before long, he found them very much to his taste, and was inspired by the courage and sacrifice of the men and women who showed their burning love in their unconditional service of God. Giving up his great wealth, he resolved to live a life of poverty and sacrifice, doing everything to the greater glory of God, later founding the Society of Jesus. I read the books you gave me including the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and learned discernment and how to make the right decisions but that was not until I had reached a more mature age.
Back in my childhood I very much liked hearing of St. Ignatius’s life and generosity and how when St. Francis Xavier was very strict on new novices and inclined to send them away from the seminary St. Ignatius always gave them a second chance and took them in again by the back door. That was the saint for me, I decided, he was just like Jesus Christ compassionate and ready to forgive and I found myself very much drawn to the order you had chosen to join. From what you told me I was aware that at the age of seven you knew that you wanted to become a priest and it was through your influence on your pupils at Belvedere that a great many joined the Jesuits and were ordained priests. I was no saint myself and in those early years when I used to complain about having to set the Sunday lunch table while my older sister sat listening to you, you told us the story of Mary and Martha, pointing out that in listening to Jesus and letting her sister cook and set tables ‘Mary had chosen the better part’, as indeed she had. But I could never really like Mary or Martha and would have much preferred to be sitting comfortably listening to your stories myself, particularly, when you had such a wonderful way of engaging our interest. You often told us the Bible was the most exciting book ever written, certainly it was the most blood thirsty too. The stories of David and Jonathan’s great friendship and Saul’s jealousy came alive when you told them, making me long to read them for myself.
You were always very generous with your time and I particularly loved the way you would keep front seats for us at the Belvedere College operas. How we loved Gilbert and Sullivan and came to know all the songs. I can still see you young and vigorous, your soutane flying out behind you, as you came smiling towards us. There were our ‘Lemmo’ parties when you financed a bottle of fizzy lemonade and the luxury of Mikado biscuits with jam and marshmallow topping. You would play cards with us, simple games of ‘Snap’ or ‘Beggar My Neighbour’ and there would be a sweet as the winner’s prize. My mother used to laugh and say you could see no wrong in us, I suspect she would have liked us to be more like model children but was forced to put up with the reality.
On looking back, it was on our walks as children and later when you came to spend your leave from Africa with myself, my husband and children, becoming their friend as you had become mine, that our friendship blossomed and grew. I am so thankful you entered into our lives from the beginning enriching them by your affectionate presence, always stirring us gently to an awareness of Jesus and telling us how important it was to put him first in our lives. Somehow you always saw the best in us no matter what and by your unstinting friendship and wise counselling helped us to become more worthy, less selfish, less self- orientated. Undoubtedly, you helped and guided so many others while abroad on the missions in Africa and during your time spent in America as a Jesuit priest. By your ministry you have touched so many lives. At 86 you returned home to Ireland, having been pastor to three parishes in South Carolina, where you had a driver who brought you to the distant towns to say the weekend masses. You took on so much having always expressed the desire to ‘work while there was work to be done’, always of the mind that you would go anywhere a priest was needed; in your eighties even offering your services on an American troop ship. When the officer with a smile in his voice asked, ‘Do you mind my asking, Father, how old you are?’ you told him your age, adding ‘Well, even if I can’t go on board I can set up a confessional on the dock,’ adding the sobering observation, ‘Many of those young soldiers will never come back from Afghanistan and it may be the only time they will have an opportunity to confess before death.’
With your passing, I feel as though I have lost my best friend but believe and take consolation from the fact you have gone to a better place and you are now with Jesus whom you served so faithfully and for so long. With all my love and thanks until we meet again.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1966

First Impressions of Zambia : Father John O’Holohan SJ (OB 1941)

Lusaka - The Capital
The darkness was falling as we landed at Lusaka airport. I was surprised at the modern and efficient aspect of the streets and traffic arrangements. The people were the main interest. There was great variety of colours, black, brown, and white. The bulk of business seemed to be run by Europeans and Indians. Lusaka has a population of 118,800 of whom 13,800 are non-Africans. It seemed to me like a large country town in Ireland, but it, is growing steadily in population and popularity. I stayed at the parish church of St Ignatius which was built by Father Dermot Murphy (OB 1933), now Father Minister in Canisius College. The PP is Father Denis O'Connell SJ, who taught as a scholastic in Belvedere from 1950 to 1953. On Sunday I said the 10.00 am Mass and preached at four Masses.

I left Lusaka next day with Father Arthur Clarke SJ, the Rector of Canisius College, to drive south to the Chikuni Mission Headquarters. As we drove on in the brilliant sunshine between acres and acres of bush country which covers so much of central Africa, and glimpsed the round huts of the Africans between the trees, I realised that I was now really in the heart of Africa. From the moment I stepped onto African soil I noticed a change of atmosphere, the tempo of life seemed slower, outside the city the clock went back hundreds of years. The heart-throb of Africa beat slowly and steadily like drums at evening.

Chivuna Mission Station
The main road south is a very good one most of the way. Sometimes it degenerates into a narrow strip of tarmac so that it is necessary to shift onto the clay surface when passing cars. This can be quite dangerous, clouds of dust rendering visibility almost nil. About 27 miles on we passed over the great Kafue river where I saw my first hippos, ten of them were wallowing in the warm water near the bridge. After 50 miles more we stopped at Mazabuka to call to see to ever cheerful Father Tom O'Meara, SJ from Mallow. Our next brief stop was at the bishop's house in Monze, 120 miles from Lusaka. There we turned off the main road to drive west over the dirt road to Chivuna 27 miles in the bush. As the swift Africa twilight merged into darkness we reached the mission station situated on a slight elvation. The Superior, Father Bernard Collins SJ, gave us a hearty welcome. He knows Belvedere well; he taught there both as scholastic and a priest. In fact he taught me Greek for the Intermediate Cert in 1939 . Now I was coming back to sit in a desk before him in Central Africa and study Citonga, one of the thirty different Bantu dialects in use in Zambia. Of all the languages I have studied there is only one which bore any resemblance to Tonga, and that Hebrew. Fortunately the letters used are the same as in English, but the whole structure and syntax of the language is different. Most languages vary their tenses and cases, modulating their terminations; Tonga do the reverse, it changes its prefixes and makes the noun, adjective and verb undergo complicated changes to preserve this kind of agreement. Some words evoke memories of English, either by chance or because they are from the English. Some examples interesting words are: mutwe - head, bong - brains, impongo - goat, taata - father; baama - mother, muntu - man, bantu - me The Ave Maria begins: “Wabonwa Mari ozwide luse, Mwami nkwali kuli nduwe ..

Each day we rose at 5.00 am - 5.30 to 7.00 was spent in prayers and celebrating Mass. Classes began at 8.00 and ended at 10.00 am The rest of the day was spent most in private study varied by sessions with a African tutor. The usual course is one year - I was trying to do it in three months - was very painful, and I felt a new sympathy for my pupils in Latin and Greek in Belvedere.

Life in the Bush
When I was told I was going to spend three months in the bush I was prepared for very primitive conditions. At Chivuna I found a well-built house with running water, gauze over the windows and electricity from 6.00 to 9.30 p.m. nightly. The last convenience was due to the presence of a large educational settlement beside us. The Irish Sisters of Charity run very efficiently a large secondary and primary school for girls. They had a machine generating electricity and we shared its light. Beside the convent there is a clinic run by the Sisters which rivals seriously the reputation of any local medicine-men. Zambia is ful of strange contrasts; it is straddling two worlds. In the cities you are in the twentieth century; in the bush you seem to be almost in the stone age. Only a hundred yards from my room there were people living in a manner that was ancient when Caesar invaded Britain. They live in round huts made of bricks, mud or straw. Their staple food is maize seasoned with meat, fish, vegetables, nuts, according as fortune favours them.

One day at the building site near us I saw a devoted wife bringing dinner to her husband at midday: she had two dishes perched on her head and when she presented them to him she did so on her bended knees. There is no doubt who is the official master in the home. In the African tradition the woman is held to be inferior to the man, and virtually his slave. All this is changing now with the rapid improvement of living conditions and education in Zambia. When a girl is through a secondary school she is able to secure personal independence. Boy or girl finishing secondary school has great opportunities for good positions in the country. Even if a boy fails his exams he can still get a job.

Many European teachers have come out to Zambia on a contract to teach for two years. They are doing great work. Many more are needed. Zambia is about nine times the size of Ireland, but its population is less than four million. It is a wealthy country and is spending great sums on education. For five years all education, books, etc, are free. The great need is for teachers, The Government is pouring twenty million pounds into new schools, hospitals and administration centres, and building contractors are so overloaded that they cannot begin to meet the demand for private housing. The new buildings in Chivuna are being built by the Irish firm of Sisk. Signs of progress are everywhere. Africans driving ox carts are passed in a cloud of dust by Africans speeding by in Chevrolets. Near prirnitive huts you see fine modern bungalows springing up. At night I heard the drums beating in the darkness and distance; near the parish church I saw workmen sitting around a fire with a transistor blaring out the top ten. People come to the clinic for treatment for all sorts of ailments; some still consult local quacks and are much influenced by them. Sometimes the sick person comes to the doctor to try to have the medicine-man's failure remedied. One day a youth of 19 came in to the clinic, “I am bewitched”, he said. The Sister laughed at his fears, took his temperature; he seemed in perfect health. He insisted he was going to die. His friends came in and added helpfully “Yes, he is going to die, he is bewitched”. True enough later the healthy young man died. His friends came and took the body away. It is very hard to explain such things.

I have made many forays into the bush in a Landrover to bring people to hospital, sometimes it has been at night alone with a rather formidable looking African complete with club, as a guide. Always I have found them gentle and courteous. Up to very recent times the Tonga people were shamefully neglected. They are fast becoming the complete controllers of their own destinies. They are fortunate in having such a remarkable man as President Kaunda as their leader. He is a man of Christian principles, moderate and idealistic. He welcomes help from Europeans; the white missionary is welcome and respected. There is a great chance for the Catholic Church here.

Born: 26 May 1886, Kune-Khandala, Maharashtra, India
Entered: 07 September 1904, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1919, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1923, Chiesa del Gesù, Rome Italy
Died: 25 January 1950, St Vincent's Hospital, Dublin

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

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1909 at Stonyhurst, England (ANG) studying
by 1922 at Drongen, Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1923 at Rome, Italy (ROM) studying

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 23rd Year No 4 1948

Fr. Canavan, who, as briefly recorded in our last issue, is attending Congresses, at San Sebastian and Barcelona, writes on 12th-13th September from the former place:
"The trip out was pleasant and rapid. Señor Don Jose Arnau, who leaves for Dublin tomorrow, met me at the frontier, saw me through the customs and drove me to San Sebastian, a perfectly lovely place. I had hardly arrived at the Residence when I was called on the phone by the Irish Loreto nuns at Las Arenas, near Bilbao, asking when I was going to them. They had received permission from the Bishop for me to give them a couple of talks and to hear the confessions of the community! I fancied I was back in Milltown Park. Our Fathers have been extremely kind, in fact everyone goes out of his way to do me services. On Saturday last I got up at 4 o'clock, caught an early train and said Mass at Loyola in a chapel all silver, the altar silver, the very flooring of silver. To-day some Spanish friends are driving me to Pamplona and Puente la Reina, and I shall try to see Xavier, and that will take in most of Navarra..
We opened the Conversaciones with Mass and Breakfast at the Episcopal Palace. The Nuncio presided, flanked by a Bishop on his right and left. The Council then set up three Commissions, and I am or one. We speak French and English and Spanish to a lesser extent. The resolution on Liberty of Education adopted practically entire the account I had given of the Irish outlook and system, and has recommended it to the general body. We have Spaniards, Portuguese, Brazilians, English, French, Italians, Swiss, Belgians and Dutch on our committee. We meet twice a day for two hours or so each time, and now and again we have a plenary session in the evening. Yesterday we were invited to a reception given by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which I refrained from attending, as I had had a long day already, what with my trip to Loyola and my attendance at the Conversaciones in the afternoon. I forgot to mention that at Loyola I offered Mass for the Province and its needs”.

13th Monday :
“Yesterday I drove to Pamplona through the mountains of Guipuzcoa and Navarre, saw the spot where St. Ignatius was wounded, had dinner with some friends at Puente la Reina and then went on to Xavier. One of the Fathers there had been at Milltown, and another knew Fr. Joy at Rome. It was a wonderful day spent in a country vibrating with the memory of St. Ignatius and St. Francis, On Wednesday I go to Bilbao, then to Oña, Burgos, Valladolid, Salam anca and Madrid. The Minister for Foreign Affairs (a former President of Catholic Action in Spain) has presented me with a Kilometrico, a document which entitles me to travel first-class and free over 5,000 kilometers in Spain. The climate here is rather like Ireland's : plenty of rain, some storms, but much hotter when the sun shines. The other side of the Sierras, in Navarre there is little or no rain, the land is dry and rather parched, and the vine and olive flourish. Loyola is in a pleasant green valley, Xavier is a hard, severe, austere barren, opening in the hills. Spain is a country of sudden violent contrasts, but the people, at least here in the north, are splendidly Catholic...!”

Irish Province News 25th Year No 2 1950

Obituary

Fr. Joseph Canavan (1886-1904-1950)

Father Joseph E. Canavan. Born Khandalla, India, 26th May, 1886. Educated St. Mary's High School, Bombay and Clongowes Wood (1901-1904).
At. C.W.C. he gained high priase for his maiden speech in the Higher Line Debating Society in his last year.
Cricket : On the House XI, second in batting averages and first in bowling averages. Soccer : On the House XI. Athletics : Easter Sports, 1904 won the Higher Line 100 yards and 2nd in the 440.
Entered Novitiate 7 September, 1904. Juniorate, got B.A., Philosophy at Stonyhurst, 1908-1911.
Taught at C.W.C. 1911-1917. Theology at Milltown, 1916-1920. Taught for a year at C.W.C., 1920-1921. Editor Clongownian. Tertianship - Tronchiennes, 1921-1922.
Biennium, Rome, 1922-1924.
Prof. Philos. at Milltown, 1924-1931 and at Tullabeg, 1930-1933.
Prof. Theol. Milltown Park, 1933-1949. Praef. Stud. Milltown Park, 1947-1949. Elector at General Congregation, September October, 1946. Died, St. Vincent's Nursing Home, 25th January, 1950,
“I was taught here to accept success without arrogance and defeat without repining. I was taught here, by precept and example, the lessons of truth, of chivalry and of manliness”. This extract from John Redmond's speech at the Clongowes Centenary Celebrations is quoted with approval by Father Joseph Canavan in an article which he wrote for the Riverview College Magazine in 1948.
It is revealing in a two-fold manner. It shows directly something of what Father Canavan thought of his Alma Mater, and it shows indirectly and unconsciously something of the man himself. The revelation, limited as it is, is valuable because he was not one who opened his heart readily, fearless in expressing his convictions, he kept his sentiments to himself. Bearing in mind the words, we may review the chief activities of his life as a Jesuit.
After his Biennium in Rome - which gained for him the coveted degree of Magister Aggregatus of the Gregorian University - he returned to Ireland to begin the unbroken course of teaching which ran from 1924 to 1949 : Philosophy for nine years and Theology for sixteen years. One of his students has kindly supplied the following impression of Father Canavan as a Professor of Philosophy :
“I was lucky enough to have Fr, Canavan for my three years of Philosophy and to have him as my professor for three of the six main subjects, i.e., for Critica, Cosmology and Ethics. The years were 1929-1932, the heyday of his professorship. He was clear and incisive in exposition, cutting away irrelevancies. He never went in for spoon feeding - his students had to make a considerable personal effort. There were no such things in those days as polycopied pages handed round, each philosopher had to make up the theses for himself. This system was excellent for the averagely intelligent - though it must be admitted that the weaker brethren found it rough going. Fr. Canavan lectured, in the true sense of the word. When the main point of the thesis had been dealt with clearly, succinctly, he sat back, as it were, and began to open up larger horizons - allied questions in the same subjects, the interconnection of the various disciplines, the points of contact with modern thought (how often he brought into class articles from contemporary reviews, cuttings from newspapers and the like!). In the light of his future activities, which seem to have been connected mainly with ethical and moral questions, it is interesting to note that his first and deepest love was metaphysics. (Later on, in Louvain, I was reminded of him time and again by the professing of Pere Pierre Charles.) He took a great personal interest in his students, and this was especially evident in his dealings with them outside class. Always at their service in his room, he was affable and stimulating. One of his most outstanding traits was his way of talking to you as man to man - he never condescended. Even - or perhaps particularly - in his treatment of the least philosophically minded was this true. It was ever his habit to speak to you on his own level of intelligence. For him you were a grown-up, not a school-boy, and an intelligent grown-up, at that. He gave you confidence, drew you out of yourself, made you face difficulties, both philosophical and personal. A true educator”.
When Father Canavan came to teach Theology, his method and his manner did not change and his classes were almost to a man as enthusiastic about their Professor as his classes in Philosophy had been. And a point not mentioned in connection with Philosophy, he was an ideal examiner. His questions were clear and fair. He put the candidate at his ease with a sympathetic courtesy which, without impairing the rigour of the examination, did much to diminish its nervous strain.
Without ever neglecting his main work - that of Professor - he contrived to meet, to a great extent, the demands that were made for his services by the many externs who were not slow to recognise his ability. He had a masterly grasp of business, and a fund of tact and patience which made him an excellent committee-man and chairman, and won for him many tributes, of which the following is an example :

An Appreciation :
“I had not set eyes upon Father Canavan for ten years, but my brief encounters with him in 1938 and 1939 when I served with him as a member - under his chairmanship - on the Citizens Housing Council are so clear that they might have occurred yesterday. There was more than one man of character on that Council, and more than one man of high distinction. I met none who was not proud to serve under Father Joseph Canavan.
As one in charge of a major social programme, he had the ideal qualifications - of tenderness, of incisiveness, and of what, for want of a better phrase, I may call social conscience. He possessed also, in very high measure, that courtesy which, above all else, is desirable in the controller of a committee. I am not in fault, I think, in saying that at least one very high ecclesiastic of the Church of Ireland would second my weakness in this respect. As a layman, Joseph Canavan would have proved himself eminent in this or any other State. To his capacity for the leadership of men he added the finest qualities of a priest of God. Such at least is the sentiment of one who admired and loved him”. W.A.N. (Irish Times, 26/1/50).

In addition to the Housing Council just referred to, he served on the Governmental Commission on the Civil Service. His work for the Civics Institute won an expression from that body not only of grief at his death, but also of grateful appreciation.
His many lectures to externs on a variety of subjects, from Medical Ethics, Miracles, Church and State, to Matt Talbot were marked by thorough knowledge and clear expression. His writings ranged from poetry for instance, the Clongowes Centenary Ode to the scientific prose of his Biennium Thesis, entitled : “De Iure Proprietatis ; Sententia Hodiernorum Collectivistarum comparata cum Doctrina S. Thomae et Doctorum Scholasticorum”. And in all of them, the standard was high - nothing that he did was second-rate.
His interest in Social Science found early expression when as a young priest in Clongowes he was appointed director of the Leo Guild, and manifested itself soon after in his choice of the subject for his Biennium Thesis. That interest was maintained all his life and it was not merely the theoretical interest of a detached observer, it was the practical interest of one who had at heart the welfare of those in need and who did not spare himself trouble when there was question of helping them. The full extent of the services rendered by him in the sphere of practical sociology cannot be estimated, for they were as unostentatious as was his practice of private charity.
There were, I think, several stages in getting to know Father Canavan. And for those who did not go the whole way it would have been easy to misjudge him. Speaking in a general way, it may be said that the first impression was that one had met a brilliant thinker, a witty conversationalist, a man of the world, polished and thoroughly competent to hold his own in any company. This impression was followed often enough by another, less favourable. An element of vanity, of cock-sureness, of cynicism, seemed to emerge and become conspicuous. At this second stage, the effect of the brilliance and the wittiness wore off, and the views expressed - and still more the manner of their expression - became irritating. How was it then that Father Canavan enjoyed the high esteem and the warm and loyal friendship of so many people, both inside and outside the Society? The reason was because there was a third stage, reached by those who recognised the truth : that the cock-sureness was but the incisive expression of views clearly formulated and sincerely held; that the vanity, such as it was, was the product of a childlike simplicity; that the cynicism was a defensive armour, hiding and protecting a profound sensitiveness. And, making fair allowance for these mannerisms, one had not to know him for long to detect his extraordinary kindliness. This is the trait which made the deepest impression on those who knew him best.
His judgements on men might be severe (though never unjust), but whenever he could do anyone a good turn, he did it, generously and graciously. He could not abide humbug or pretensions, but he could and did sympathise with misfortune, with weakness, with lack of ability. Of malice or meanness, there was not a trace in him. If he was sensitive, and I believe he was, he did not betray it. If he was disappointed, he did not complain. I fear that Superiors were sometimes tempted to overburden him with work, because of his readiness to accept any task and his prompt and efficient discharge of it.
He did not make a parade of personal piety, but the solidity of his religious life was proved by his religious regularity, his obedience, his punctilious care in asking for leaves, and his loyalty to the Society. I never made a retreat under him, but I am told that, when giving an eight-day retreat, he used to devote two full days to the study of the character of Our Lord.
It is not surprising that, in his last illness, after months of unrelenting pain, his patience should have occasionally worn thin but a remark made by him not long before the end was an eloquent revelation of the real man - his nurse was about to give him an injection to relieve his agony, but he refused to accept it, saying: “I want to die in pain”.
If I were to suggest that he was faultless, he himself would be the first to protest - and with vigour. But, I do firmly hold that, if chivalry be understood in the Ignatian sense of the word, those lessons of truth, and chivalry, and manliness, which he learned as a boy, remained ever deeply impressed in the heart and were consistently and nobly followed in the life of Father Joseph Canavan.

◆ The Clongownian, 1950

Obituary

Father Joseph Canavan SJ

A friend writes :

On that cold, bleak day last January when So many assembled in Gardiner Street Church to pay a last tribute to Father Canavan perhaps the most remarkable feature of a poignant morning was the number and variety of those present who regarded him as their own most intimate friend and who felt his death as a loss peculiar to themselves and themselves alone. This thought threw a vivid light on one of the many facets of Father Canavan's enchanting personality. He truly had a genius for friendship and an ability to enter wholly and with complete understanding and sympathy into the lives of those who were fortunate enough to be included in that circle; a circle which he always, half-humourously, like to consider an eclectic one. What were the most prominent features of that many sided character which won the l'espect and admiration of all who met him, even casually, and the love of those who were admitted to his friendship?

The clear and comprehending intellect fortified by a robust and unsentimental common sense gave him a rare mental equipment. His approach to a subject and later, his considered view on it had a diamond-like clarity and outline which was most stimulating in these days when views and opinions are so often more remarkable for wooliness than for clarity. This intellect expressed itself with an Addisonian pungency and, very often, a searing and Sardonic wit. The latter was reserved for the exposure of pretentiousness, cant and humbug in all their varied forms. To him
Truth and Justice were supreme and in their defence the feelings of individuals counted for nought. Anyone endeavouring to obscure the one or obstruct the other swiftly had cause to regret their temerity for they were instantly assailed by the exposing probe of that clear brain and razor tongue. How often were pretentions and intellectual dishonesties killed by one vivid shattering phrase? He operated skilfully on petty vanities with a scalpel and often without an anaesthetic. The exercise of these gifts on such occasions and on such persons was, at times, the cause of resentment and even anger but later a realisation of the essential truth and justice of the cause was borne in upon the sufferer, respect and admiration overcame the emotions earlier aroused. To those, and they were legion who sought his aid and guidance in difficulty he gave upstinted sympathy and understanding but clear, detached and impersonal advice which was uniformly and admirably effective even if, at times, the recipient found it unflattering. This detachment and lack of sentiment made his opinion much sought and being treasured for what it was it was the source of much Platonic “right action”. His influence was vast and his views were widely canvassed for be possessed a unique gift for resolving the abstruse problems which beset the modern world demonstrating that they were of mere passing interest and importance when brought into perspective and proportion with the eternal verities.

Father Canavan's spiritual life was strictly private to himself but was obviously illuminated by a faith simple, sincere and powerful and was the source of spiritual strength and refreshment to those who realized its simple vigour. A full appreciation of his inner life could be experienced only by a religious and a mysticma layman could but stand in awe and refresh himself in its effulgence.

Lest this brief memoir should have created an impression overwhelming in its accumulation of virtues but slightly super human and chilly the portrait must be completed by recalling the warm courageous humanity and the tolerant enjoyment of life which were his most endearing traits. So many other facets spring readily to mind - the scintillating conversationalist who held a rapt table effortlessly - the dashing batsman who wooed gracefully a fifty or a century from the panting but admiring bowiers - the urbane, cultured gentleman - the poor but cheerful bridge player - the pleasant companion and above all the steadfast friend. To everything he did he brought enthusiasm and skill and in most he excelled. To some, his proper and just realization of his gifts was counted arrogance but to those who knew and understood it was but simple justice and a refusal to indulge in false modesty.

The last months of his life were lived in great pain and, often, agony harrowing to those who witnessed them but here again he rose superbly to his full stature for he displayed during all those months a Roman courage, a fortitude, a gentleness and a faith so magnificent that one friend, at least, can face the future strengthened and ennobled and secure against many fears.

No coward soul is mine;
No trembler in the world's stoem troubled sphere;
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal arming me from fear

-oOo-

A Jesuit who had studied philosophy and theology under Fr. Canavan, sends this appreciation of him as a professor :

With Father Canavan, you knew, as you listened, that it was a good lecture. For one thing, he had the supreme power of bringing out the dominant ideas of a tract; he could talk for an hour on those ideas, sometimes he spent a week on them but he was never tiring on them. By metaphors, popular asides, topical illustrations and well-told stories he held your interest but he fixed your attention ultimately and surely on the fundamental notions of the matter.

Not that he did not give you detailed matter also. He supplied all the mechanism of the Schools, the tidy definitions, the exact syllogisms, the neat distinctions. He was meticulous about preparation and whether he lectured on theology, philosophy or pedagogy his work bore the stanıp of reading and thinking and showed the noble pride of a craftsman in doing his work well. In detail, as in general, his point of view was as clear to his class as to himself,

His voice was more of a help to him than most people recognised. At first its metallic ring was all that one noticed but it had more flexibility and expression than was at first apparent. On one occasion, dealing with the promise of the Blessed Eucharist in the sixth chapter of St John, he came to the end of the scene where Christ turns to the Apostles and asks; “Will you also go away?” To this day I can remember Father Canavan giving the answer “Domine, quo ibimus?” In a way which brought out the perplexed and almost pathetic loyalty of a St Peter who always loved Christ and still loved Him even when he no longer understood Him. Father Canayan was well endowed with all the gifts of a teacher.

But, at least in dealing with philosophy and the philosophical questions connected with theology, he was more than a mere teacher. He created intellectual enthusiasm : the great questions of being and knowing, of causality and finality, took on an almost poetic excitement. These problems, over which Plato, Aristotle and Aquinas had brooded, appeared as the root problems of humanity; even poetry, drama and science seemed ancillary to this supreme use and expression of the mind of man; philosophy lay spread before us as sky of majestic clouds and infinite deeps. I suppose that you could hardly call Father Canavan's intellect massive but it was brilliant, nimble and inspiring.