Born: 19 November 1909, Ballycotton, County Cork
Entered: 01 September 1927, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1941, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1945, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Died: 31 May 1985, Our Lady's Hospice Harold's Cross, Dublin

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

Parents were farmers.

Eldest of four boys and two girls.

Early education at local National School at 3.5. In September 1923 he went to St Colman’s College, Fermoy, County Cork.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 60th Year No 4 1985

Obituary

Fr John Hyde (1909-1927-1985)
(† 11th May 1985)

Five minutes alone with John Hyde was more than sufficient to convince anyone that here was a very remarkable man.
No matter what the occasion or topic of conversation, vibrations of peace and depth accompanied his economy in words, his concentration on what was said qualified a head-down self- effacement that had become second nature to him, and a curious sense of his having a firm hold on spiritual priorities was unconsciously communicated in a simple way. It is not easy to write with confidence about a man like that, difficult to avoid the tendency to confuse first impressions with fact and difficult to steer clear of conclusions based on oft-repeated anecdotes that lent them- selves to good-humoured inflation. John seldom spoke about himself and left no trace in his room of anything directly autobiographical although inferences can indeed be drawn from many folders of notes on spirituality, local history and theology. Yet, granted the right atmosphere and the appropriate question that he could see did not stem from mere curiosity, John would be self revealing where he felt his own experiences would be the source of encouragement to another. What follows is coloured by a few self-revelations of that kind. It is based on the memories of many who gained much from living with him in community over the years; it is also dependent on the recollections of very many non-Jesuit friends particularly in the Midlands who knew him in a way that was not possible for his confrères.
John Hyde was born in the bilingual community of Ballycotton, attended the local National School (in bare feet some of the time) and in his teens was privately tutored in French by two retired ladies in the district who recognised his promise and his eagerness to learn. This promise was confirmed during his years “on scholarship” in St Colman's College, Fermoy, where his early interest in the priesthood led him, by way of a College retreat by Fr Timothy Halpin, towards the Society, The move to the noviciate in Tullabeg in 1927 was in fact a reasoned preference for a disciplined community way of life over the fairly predictable career that would have begun had he accepted the free place in the Irish College in Rome offered him by the Bishop of Ross. While Tullabeg represented a cultural shift for John, Rathfarnham and UCD was a greater one which he found socially difficult but spiritually and academically agreeable. At this time he read widely in the history of the Society and continued a noviciate habit of close contact with the lives of Jesuit saints. Philosophy, Tullabeg 1933-1936: he was glad to be back in the country but felt sad at being separated by Province custom from the local people whose difficult lot at that time he appreciated through his own Ballycotton roots. The scholastic codices he used at this period bear witness to his meticulous efforts to understand and also to his predilection for Irish since many of his own notes in whatever language are written in Gaelic script.
Regency in Belvedere and in Galway was traumatic. I remember him just shaking his head and waving his hands without comment in typical fashion when I asked him about the experience of standing before a class of irrepressible who, as we can readily imagine, would often take advantage of his natural shyness and imitability. He admitted to being particularly lonely in the Society at that time and this loneliness remained during the Milltown theology years when, in moments of depression, and disturbed by the effects of his lack of interest in current affairs, he wondered whether his Jesuit option had been wise. He met the challenge by strengthening his belief in two principles that later would occur frequently in his lectures and conferences – that God is always faithful and that no one is asked to undertake unbearable burdens. Ordination in 1941 was followed by a fourth year during which he recalled efforts to translate abstract doctrine into homely metaphors in order to assist one or other of his contemporaries in the pre-Ad Grad repetitions; thus were laid the foundations of that metaphor-laden pedagogy of later years which benefitted his so many as he would, for example, expressively compare original sin with a puncture in a tyre and describe the Lutheran position on human nature after Eden in terms of the irremediable effect of a fall into a bottomless pit instead of the reparable injury resulting from a fall from a tree to the ground that characterised orthodox doctrine. Soon after the Tertianship Long Retreat in Rathfarnham, the Milltown years of preferred study and inactivity exacted their toll as John contracted pleurisy and tuberculosis and spent some months in two Dublin nursing homes. The earlier depression increased during long hours gazing at walls and ceilings, as he felt his life to have been a failure and his studies useless. Providentially, and at least initially at his sister's request, he was moved to Tullabeg to recuperate. The depression gradually lifted over two years during which the philosophers recognise how helpful he could be and to confirm for themselves the reputation for asceticism and insight that had in fact preceded his arrival among them. As his strength returned, he entered at depth into the study of Aquinas which he would develop through his life. Also through the confessional and parlour apostolates, he took his first steps in the contacts with the sick and elderly which were to become such a prominent feature of his life. Both activities restored his self-confidence and confirmed his trust in the 'the divine plan that governs all by governing each'; he never looked back.
Appointed to the academic staff in 1946, John's talents for pedagogy at this particular level and his reputation for consistency developed enormously over sixteen years of quiet, unassuming application. To the uninitiated, his codex pages could be enigmatic, their elliptical, staccato format and expressly Aristotelian-Thomist inspiration difficult to follow without long reflection on the sources, but to those attending lectures with patience, these pages were prized, stimulating understanding for all and inspiring the more speculative minds to further originality of expression. In the countryside, his reputation grew as he became a familiar sight in Tullamore, Clara, Pullough and Ballycumber, cycling in all weathers to respond to some call for his presence and blessing. His familiar figure represented for the Midland people an ideal charismatic holiness which his interest in their individual difficulties abundantly confirmed. Others might say what he did, other priests might come to anoint or absolve, but none could measure up in their rural eyes to what they found in John at a time when lasting consolations were rare enough and Bord na Móna not yet fully established as a secure source of income. He was very much at ease with them in their humble circumstances, frequently brought cakes or sweets for the children began to that we, the philosophers, gathered up for him as he cycled away after our villa day alfresco meal, and relished the tea and home-made bread they laid before him, following, in some cases, his guided tour of the farmyard and his . solemn blessing of the household.
The move to Milltown in 1962 saddened him even though he could clearly see the hand of God in the decision. He found it extremely difficult at that time to sympathise with the scholastics' preference for urban life and the cultural possibilities it would afford; for him, philosophical reflection and a fully committed religious life demanded, at least in formation years, something like the quasi-monastic enclosure of a place like Tullabeg. While respecting the judgement of “those who know about these things”, he felt that both studies and prayer would suffer. Later in Milltown, the establishment of the present Institute and the increasing extra-mural concerns of all the students were also great puzzles to him and on many guarded occasions he lamented what he considered to be an inevitable drop in academic standards. Environment and concentration were of paramount importance to him; prevailing ephemeral interests were distractions best avoided until such time as religious and academic foundations were well and truly laid. Certainly, too, he was saddened by his own enforced separation from the rural scene and from the people who meant so much to him. On one occasion he admitted that God also wished then to remove him also from the Jesuit community dimension that he found supportive in the Bog-years: from now on he would find common interests at community recreation so much rarer and so his lapses into silence became habitual.
Yet he applied himself to theology with enthusiasm even though he sincerely felt himself unequipped to teach it. This last admission would surprise anyone present in his classes but the 'I'd like to run away' comment, made several times to me at least, was sufficient indication that his awareness of his own inability to communicate effectively with modern trends and sophisticated minds ran deep. He worked at a steady pace, relying on critically chosen authors and reviews, checking the accuracy of references with a keen suspicion of generalisations, and was always unmoved by trends that for lesser minds would prompt radical revision. While he was always uneasy about his own ability for accurate communication of what he himself knew to be true, and very much aware of many fields for related investigation, the gates to which he never had time or energy to open, his contribution to our understanding of scripture-based meaning and development cannot be overestimated. It is hoped that a fairly comprehensive assessment of that contribution may be made elsewhere, but at least here it is worth noting that the major concern in his teaching was to bridge the gap between an over-speculative systematic theology and our own religious experience, in line with the early Lonergan stress on self-appropriation which had delighted him in his later years in Tullabeg. That particular concern is clear on almost every codex-page he produced.
While in Milltown, concern for the sick and elderly continued undiminished through an enormous correspondence, visits to hospitals and to Mountjoy jail, parlour contacts and his return visits to the Bog in summer, at Christmas and at Easter. Up to a year before his death he was out on the bicycle if weather permitted, or, whatever the weather, if an urgent request came to him to visit some direct or indirect acquaintance who had been transferred from the Midlands to a Dublin hospital. He was particularly sensitive to the loneliness felt by country people suddenly removed from their own environment to Dublin; visiting them became a primary concern and I have heard first-hand accounts of after noon trips to the hospitals at Cappagh, Peamount, Blanchardstown, Loughlinstown and Rathcoole. On a few occasions “the machine let me down” and once, in a winter storm, he walked back from Tallaght satisfying himself when he got home with tea and bread in an empty refectory after supper. This last incident could be paralleled by many other occasions both in the Bog and in Milltown when his own well-being took second place to the demands of his preferred apostolate; it was quite common for him to put the thought of supper out of his mind because of a parlour call or an urgent visit by sudden request. Superiors had to be watchful but so often John, even during his last months, in-deliberately escaped their vigilance.
Invalid contacts in Tullabeg brought him to Knock in the mid-sixties and he established a relationship with invalids at the shrine that lasted until he died, Instrumental in the development of a Pious Union of Handmaids (which includes a special status for invalids) as the first stage towards the establishment of a Secular Institute, John worked steadily on their Constitutions, regularly wrote to the member-invalids in various parts of the country, visited some of them in their homes (taking advantage the free travel pass) and directed their annual retreat in Knock each August.
This year I was privileged to follow in his footsteps and could sense the depth of the invalids' grief at the fact that he was no longer with them as before. Yet his spirit remains as they prize memories of his quiet concern, his reading-visits to those who were blind and the customary blessing with a relic of John Sullivan which he constantly carried in his hatband. As with Midland recollections, the accounts of cures effected through his prayers, of extraordinary foresight with regard to eventual recovery, of flourishing families and farms due to his spiritual advice, and of problems solved merely by his presence and concern, are manifold.
Not until his death could we realise his life-long hobby-interest in the local histories of Ballycotton and Offaly. He has left copybooks, odd pages and letters, sheets of statistics and meticulously traced maps which bear witness to hours spent in the National Library, the Public Records Office, the Royal Irish Academy and similar places.
Lists of local populations with names, dates, land valuations and property mingled in his room with genealogies, land-charts and press-cuttings sent him by like-minded enthusiasts. His correspondence on the subject, frequently in reply to requests from people descended, as I understand it, from Ballycotton emigrants, extended to America and Australia; he was in regular contact with local archaeological societies, in 1982 he gave a lecture to the Cloyne Literary and Historical Society that was much appreciated, and pursued right up to the end. This work will not be lost to sight; photo copies will be sent to the appropriate societies.
From his notes and copybooks, it is also clear that his love for the Old Testament Canticles was not a transient one: the publication of his own translation in Irish of The Song of
Songs (Laoi na of Laoithe; it has been incorporated in An Bíobla Naofa) and a typical staccato style commentary, is but the outward evidence of an interest in a readily understandable
conception of divine love that informed his unique approach to the theological tracts on grace and charity - a prime example of his efforts to bridge that aforementioned gap between
systematics and experience.
His scattered preparatory notes on various retreats for religious, his simple but forceful articles in An Timire, his conferences on prayer (it disturbed him to find these typed and distributed), some domestic exhortations and his circular letters to invalids are a mine of practical spirituality, simply expressed, that many feel would repay editing and composite publication. The very idea the extent of would have appalled him for he was genuinely convinced that he had little to offer to a modern, outwardly sophisticated readership, and was self persuaded that his own lack of style and polish in English composition would be the an obstacle. In spiritual matters, could not but keep things simple and frequently professed incompetence in the field of the discernment of spirits; he would never have envisaged himself engaged in directed retreats - 'I wouldn't know what to say' - the admission was sincere. With individuals who came to him for spiritual advice, he consistently turned to scriptural principles leaving inferences to be drawn by his confidant; for those with little practice in spiritual thought, he provided one or two provocative parables from everyday life, but even then would never presume to make the directly personal application himself. His relationship with sisters is not easy to interpret. Undoubtedly he was a favourite retreat-giver in the old style, certainly he helped many individually in their convents and in parlours, but it was clear to us that he felt very uneasy with the post-Vatican aggiornamento that closer relationships with male communities understandably brought sisters into. His attitude was by no means anti-feminist - quite the opposite, as I could see from the Knock situation. I can only ascribe it to a combination of natural shyness and lack of common ground for conversation on the one hand and on the other, a personal desire to be at ease in the refectory (this applied particularly to his later Tullabeg visits) with those whom he knew well, an attitude that will be readily appreciated by those who have themselves spent the morning or afternoon hours in concentrated study.
Self-effacement was characteristic of the man, so clear in each of his apostolates and accentuated over the years in the Society where he eventually became content with his position outside the cultural mainstream. He could never have more than a passing interest in current events, in radio or newspapers, never watched television, and was in touch with developments only through side-references in review articles and very occasional press headlines noticed during his usual dinner-hour peek at the obituaries in the recreation room. Consequently he was happy to be unobtrusive and remain silent in small-talk recreations and sophisticated company. He suspected his unconcern and social awkwardness, as he saw it, would be disconcerting and, unless directly addressed by one of the company, he preferred to withdraw without fuss to the peace and that meant so much to him. His oft-noted absence at Province funerals and functions was quite typical - “these things are not for me” became a principle of ever-increasing application. Some found him a difficult person to live with because of his self-depreciating manner which, however, was certainly not feigned. It was not just shyness. He seemed to think that his own simplicity of outlook and sincere lack of interest in ephemera automatically placed him on a very low rung of the social ladder and he never had any incentive to climb. He willingly stepped back to give way to anyone - this was what God had decreed for him, and he accepted it. In the refectory he was seldom able to join three others already seated even though he would genuinely welcome them if they joined him, and the familiar sight of John standing back until all others were served just underlined his consistency. Yet in conversation, particularly with one or two, he could sparkle if the topic were congenial - local history or some curiosity of the Irish language or news from the Midlands, but anything polemical was avoided: if pressed to take sides on any issue, he would invariably appeal to some general principle and leave it at that. On administrative issues, he would express no opinion. Many post-Vatican moves, inspired by authority whose judgement he always respected, were a puzzle to him, and many were distinctly at variance with his own religious ideals, but he was con tent to accept in silence so much of which he knew he could never be a part. At the same time he was never on the side of the prophets of gloom: here his theological perspectives came to his aid as he insisted daily on an eventual realisation of the divine plan and on the reality of Providence at work in the world.
In theology or spirituality, John seemed to have a built-in radar for that 'phoniness' that sometimes made people uneasy. Many times in his room I have sensed its beeps either in relation to something I said or in his expressed views on some books or articles that had quite caught the popular theological eye. He very much lamented the general trend towards concentration on man rather than on God as a theological starting point and felt much in tune with Hans Urs von Balthasar who, from a position of greater learning, confirmed his attitude and underlined the soundness of the general approach of Thomas Aquinas, whose work and personality were so dear to John. Simplicity of faith, whatever the later reasoning, was a factor that John could sense so well and his lectures or conferences implicitly emphasised its importance in pastoral or academic activity. Another point of absorbing interest was his quiet insistence that in general we do not have sufficient faith in what God wants to do for each of us - John 15:5 was one of his favourite texts; and his nose for the pelagianism subtly interwoven in the pages of popularising theologians was quite remarkable. His own faith in the prayer of petition (“like a shop with well-filled shelves: it's all there but we must ask”) surely accounts for some of the unusual events that so many Midlanders have attributed to his concern and prayers.
With so few of his personal notes available, it is not possible to do more than draw inferences regarding his own spiritual life. Certainly reverence was a key feature. Memories of John kneeling rigidly in the chapel, head down and oblivious to all around him, come easily to mind as does the recollection of him offering Mass in a subdued emotionless voice (he never concelebrated, through rather than from principle) and the studied concentration that would accompany the simple blessing of a rosary. His pre-lecture retreat prayer that all our actions be directed solely (with a deliberate emphasis on the word) to the praise and service of God seems to have been a reflection of his life. In his last month he did mention that his priestly intention had always been that he might be able to imitate “the Master” as closely as possible within the limitations imposed by his retiring dispositions and by the academic calling which he fully accepted but would all too willingly have passed to others better able to do it than himself. He gave himself credit for nothing: the Isaian potter moulding his clay to suit his plans was an image of God that was dear to him - probably John mentioned it in every retreat he gave. At every stage of his life, “I did the best that I could do” - the divine plan daily worked out in this unusually faithful and selfless way of service for others. His own interests were secondary. Many recall how he would gladly interrupt any work to answer a call to the parlour, giving as much time to that as his visitor needed. If we went to him in his room, we knew indeed that we and not he would have to terminate the interview, and this was particularly difficult to do in his last year, since, with his powers of solitary study for long periods on the wane, he seemed more and more to welcome individual company..
A final pointer to another characteristic known only to those who knew him fairly well whether in community or on his pastoral rounds - his sense of humour. Many stories have been told of cryptically witty remarks he made, sum ming up a situation or a character in a way that would have occurred to no one else and displaying his own satisfying cleverness in a broad tight-lipped smile. He thoroughly enjoyed the bantering conversation of a refectory foursome even though his own contributions would be infrequent - and these would invariably raise a laugh. Some years ago, Fred Crowe, visiting Milltown, looked forward to chatting with John because of all he had heard about him. Asked after two days during which they had not met if he would recognise John, Fred replied that he thought he would, “He's the man in the refectory who sits with his head down seemingly uninvolved with all that was being said by the other three ... until after a while he looks up, says something very briefly, and the three burst into loud laughter ... the memory is typical. It confirms what we all knew - that his reclusiveness was not the whole story but had to be qualified by a subtle mischievousness which, perhaps, is a key to an understanding of the loneliness that he sometimes keenly felt. It is well worth noting that in Midland homes and with the Knock invalids he is remembered so well for his general cheerfulness and contagious happiness.
So much more could be and will be said about Fr John. He mystified some people, was much admired by others. He cannot be stereotyped in anything he ever did. All of us were affected by him in some way or other and we know that we will never meet anyone quite like him again. After a very fruitful life he slipped away as quickly and unobtrusively as he would have wished. The memories and his influence remain.
B. McNamara

As the end approached, the attractiveness of goodness warmed me to Fr John Hyde. Although he suffered a great deal, he never complained. He often ended a description of his day with the phrase, “I've no complaints”, and one was left with the impression that he spoke from a deep sense of acceptance.
While he would have preferred to die at home, he accepted the decision that he would die in Our Lady's Hospice. When the time came to go, twenty-four hours before he died, he took only what he could carry in his small leather case and neither hat nor coat. The journey in the house car was clearly, in his mind, his last. He didn't speak of the future but rather of the present and the present was grand.
Those who attended him at the Hospice, doctors, nurses and sisters, felt cheated that he died so quickly after his arrival. "We would have liked to have nursed him for a little longer", one of them said to me. They too had been touched. In life John taught that the christian life is but a preparation for death. In death John demonstrated that he practised what he preached. May he rest in peace.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 40 : September 1985
A Personal Appreciation : John Hyde
Paddy Gallagher
Fr. John Hyde died on 31st May, 1985. Writing from Canada, a former student of his and a former confrère of ours sent INTERFUSE these pages appreciation of a devoted friend.

Shortly before his death, John wrote to me in Canada saying that he was not in pain and that he was really looking forward to seeing God. God has since fulfilled that desire and, like Zacchaeus up in the tree, John must have a great view. One is left with a deep feeling of peace and fulfilment; the words, consummatum est, seem to express the meaning of it all.

For ten steady years and then, in much more sporadic fashion, for another fifteen, I had the privilege of close conversation with a friend who shared all he had so generously. My fondest memory of John is being with him in his room thinking out some difficulty. There was no need to pretend to be learned when you were with him because closeness to God coupled with a naturally gifted intelligence enabled him to discard these attitudes. John accepted you as you were with all your stupid questions and awkward formulations. I could not count the hours I spent asking questions while he patiently listened. During my years as a scholastic in Clongowes, I spent three Summers in the Bog and many an evening after supper he would come into the library and talk. His eyes would light up and he would haul out book after book selflessly putting the of his insight and learning at my disposal in an utterly selfless way. I felt deeply honoured and very humbled in the presence of a highly intelligent and very kind saint in a remote place in the Irish midlands.

John was deeply aware of his limitations and often spoke to me about them. By temperament he was a solitary and it was a measure of the power of God in the Society of Jesus coupled with John's own unwearying efforts that he was enabled to communicate intellectual light and much goodness and kindness.

Conversation with him could be very difficult because those long silences could easily unsettle someone not used to them. He was no good on Church politics or the news and his small talk was nearly always about some person he knew or some locality he was familiar with. He hated writing and found it very painful. Often he said to me that, when writing and stuck for a word, the Irish equivalent or some line from our Irish literature would come more easily to him. He was incredibly shy and felt quite lost in company other than that of close friends and simple people. With sophisticated people he was not at ease and to the best of my knowledge John did not seek out the modern unbeliever or the alienated Catholic in any great number.

The combination of certain aspects of John's temperament and the course of events from his early fifties onward could easily have led to bitterness and negativity. His sharp mind, which could be devastating, and his solitary bent, which was most at home in the older world of Irish life, could have resulted in a minefield detonating whatever came in its path. The closing of Tullabeg, certain changes in the Society's and the Church's way of life, the breakdown of Irish culture, the demise of philosophy as a serious formative factor in modern life, all these things could have conspired to corrode and embitter this small, quiet man because for John these were serious matters and he felt them deeply. John's finer qualities, however, kept these influences at bay and he chose to live out of his more positive talents, I found in him a profound docility to the truth of things; the deepest respect and care for the mind which God gave him to respond to this truth; and a limpidly pure heart. He drew deeply from his love of Christ, his love of the Society, the riches of Irish culture, his thorough knowledge of the wisdom of western Christianity and from his untiring work among the disadvantaged, to respond to the challenges in his life.

It was this man, then, with all his limitations and talents, that was thrust into the maelstrom of modern theology and, out of obedience, went to live in the city. How would he react? The temptation was to stick to the older textbooks but John's concern for the truth ruled that out. He found serious inconsistencies within them so he patiently set out to rework the whole system and made what I think was his finest achievement: a coherent philosophy and revelation are thoroughly and consistently integrated into a theology. It is a body of work which to some extent satisfied his own integrity and which he honestly felt addressed the fundamental problems of the world after the manner of Gaudium et Spes. It is here that we find John's attitude towards modernity and while he had many “No’s” to say to it, nevertheless much more significant are the clear signposts which he thinks will keep us on our way to the truth. The following is an effort to identify these signposts and I trust they do justice to his thought. If they are unsatisfactory, then I urge the reader to go to “The Sheets” themselves: Tolle, lege!

John insisted on the importance of asking a penetrating question on a fundamental problem and following it through to the end with intellectual integrity. While this seems obvious in theory, in practice it is extraordinarily difficult. It accounts for the painstaking care which he took over each minute step as he moved on in the truth. Secondly, he insisted on the importance of being keenly aware of the unity of the truth and that we must come to grips with the foundations of that unity. This point accounts for the architectonic quality of his thought. Lastly, he insisted that we must make "God in Christ reconciling the world to himself" the focal point of all our questions. John was ever orientated towards God in Christ and, both in his living and thinking, this ruled him entirely. This last point means that his thought is at once a nourishing spirituality and a sati intellectual project.

Towards the end of his life, John was getting tired and he found it harder to concentrate and remember what he was reading. He had always made God in Christ the centre of his life and now he began to speak much of the greatness of God and His great love. He often spoke to me saying that he would love to be able to make the beauty and the goodness of God the central explanatory factor in his understanding of Being but that he was too old now and, besides, he didn't think he had the originality and talent to work it out as he would like it to be done. I suppose that is one of the things I will always remember about him, the ability to pick out, in the complexity of modern reflections, an original, emerging contribution; the ability to indicate lines of possible development; and the humility to say that it was beyond his capability to do it justice. What more can you ask of anyone?

This insight into God's beauty and goodness was matched by a corresponding warmth and breadth in his kindness. A few instances involving myself made it for me to overlook it. When I came home from Canada and met him for the first time in Milltown as an ex-Jesuit, I simply did not know how he would react. I need not have feared. We talked for hours and then it was time for dinner. John always enjoyed his meals - I think food was the only material thing he used up in large quantities unless we take paper and ink into the reckoning! He stood up and invited me to dinner with the community. I was very embarrassed and did not wish to intrude. He would hear none of it and asked very firmly and clearly did I want to have dinner. No doubt it seems a small gesture; but to me it revealed his very real kindness and sensitivity. The last memory I have of him as I left him in August 84 is seeing him bending down, rooting behind a wee curtain and rummaging in a large, brown paper parcel, “I have something you might like to see”, he said, thrusting a small book at me. “Would you like a copy?” he asked. I was deeply moved. John had never in his life considered anything he wrote worth giving to anyone. Gladly, I took it. It was Lóchrann do no Chosa do Bhriathar, a published collection in Irish of his spiritual articles over the years. As I quietly closed the door of his room behind me for the last time, I said to myself that it was now much easier for me to believe that truly God is wonderful, very kind and absolutely brilliant.

Is aoibhinn dó sin a bhfuil grásta Dé ar a anam. Is é atá sa bhás dó sin oscailt an dorais go dté se isteach san áit is fearr dá bhfuil.
Happy is he whose heart is full of God's grace. For him, death means the opening of a door so that he may go into the very best place there is.

Interfuse No 54 : September 1988

Poem : Neil O’Driscoll

THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF JOHN HYDE

(Dedicated to Dick and Colin)

A countryman he was in speech and style,
His manner mild, hands clasped waist-high,
He looked out on the world with pensive glance.

Mostly 'twas listening that he did, forever probing
Mysteries as others talked -
And talk they did for many an hour,
He all the while pondering with modest smile.

The odd word from his lips were weighted
And awaited by the one for comfort come,
A crumb of wisdom shared with others
Yet oft by them repeated to their friends.

He had a human side and liked the cup of tea
With folk who lived nearby, on bike he'd come,
In wind and rain to visit and console, and bless the cow.

Well-read he was, sure wisdom was his line,
Could argue with the best and smile the while!
Questioning and searching lest his students slip away
With half learning, feeling 'twas quite simple after all.

A man of God with habits rare,
Pursuits more normal did not figure there.
No idle talk, no papers or T.v. could drag him
From the mystery there for all to see -
if only they would look
Beyond the veil of God-made "tings" to One Who fashions all.

But now he's gone, his spirit's free,
He's surely with Aquinas. Con Lonergan, Joey,
Tying all the ends unravelled here below,
And beckoning to us lest we should lose our way.

Interfuse No 99 : Winter 1998

HYDING THE TRUTH

Harold Naylor
It is now forty years since that beloved wailing voice said: “Walk seeking the Truth, with one hand in that of Thomas Aquinas”. I also recall the echoes of his prayer before Theodicy class (1958) in Tullabeg: “Send forth your wisdom from Your Holy Throne, that she may labour with me and lead me, so that we may be pleasing to you....”

John Hyde came into my life during the First Vows Retreat in Emo in 1953 and we remained close friends. Unfortunately I did not study Theology in Milltown, but I called on him whenever I could. In 1957 he'd been engrossed in reading Bernard Lonergan's Insight, which he told me was the work of a biennium, but by 1972 in Milltown he had passed on to Urs von Balthasaz, whom he told me was a real theologian!

All people can know the Truth and so know God, and come to their final destiny. This is the basis for human dignity and human rights. Without this people are just production units or tools for those in power. But people are not always intellectuals or intelligent, and most are devoid of resources. But as God loves the poor, so did John Hyde make ordinary people the focus of his life.

We used to call him the Cardinal of Pullagh-where the River Barrow flows. Here he was revered as a saint by farmer and old aged, sick and poor. And this came from his devotion to the Truth, revealed in Jesus Christ, as the ultimate goal of creation and of our personal lives.

The love of wisdom is not only for the brilliant and sophisticated but is mostly for the humble. And I saw it in John Hyde, who spent hours preparing for a lecture to the dozen or so of us philosophers. The afternoons and free days were spent with people on their pilgrimages to eternal joy.

I consider him to have come from south Tipperary, as his strong accent betrayed. In 1976 I called in on his secondary school in Clonmel. He joined the Society from Clongowes but was looked upon by his contemporaries as a joke. Small and insignificant he had bad health as a scholastic. After Tertianship he was in a tuberculosis sanatorium and then sent to Tullabeg to recuperate. By chance, he was asked to take a few classes to fill in for Professors. He prepared so assiduously and explained so simply in his monosyllabic words, summarised succinctly on the blackboard in colour chalk, that he was a great success. He spoke to us, not repeating what he had read or relating past experiences. This helped to deal with ordinary people, training us in pastoral approaches, not in self centred showmanship. His wit was scintillating, but his humour often barbed. I think he had deep wounds from people who looked down on him. Charlie Chaplin had the same hang-up from his early days in the East End of London. But John Hyde was leading us to be close to the sick and suffering, the poor and marginals to bring them the light of the Gospel Truth.

He had a horror of superficiality and verbiage. When people speak of what they did not know, I often saw his verbal stiletto flash with "What do you mean?". His remarks on people we knew found their mark in loud laughter in the class room, but they also encouraged the pursuit of truth. He was like the wise man waiting on the path where wisdom walks, stalking like a hunter, and yet always aware that wisdom lead to truth which is a gift.

His class were unique. What he had to teach was summarised in colour chalk in a few words on the blackboard. His wit was colourful and sharp. Some remarks were full of irony, others of innuendoes referring to people we all knew. He was painstakingly trying to form pastoral priests and to form honest people who sought truth and witnessed it in their lives.

I read The Tablet of London. I am sure John Hyde would have spent his time like this. I always saw him meditating on the Scriptures, and referring to Thomas Aquinas. I knew he spent much time in the library consulting monographs and serious papers on what he was teaching. He never did special studies so he did not have the ways of university folk. I imagine him the type of revered village school master, who knew what he taught and loved those he taught, leading them to truth,

He did no light reading - but he read people's eyes - those of the poor and suffering, the sick and humble. He hardly looked at the daily press or listened to the radio, and of course there was no TV in his days. He was a priest. And people want such people to bring the Truth of revelation to them. They want people who have experienced the things of God and the life of grace and they found it in John Hyde.

In the October 24 issue of The Tablet I read a summary of Pope John Paul II's encyclical on Fides et Ratio. As I carefully read the lines I recalled John Hyde, who entered the truth and made his home under the shade of Wisdom and dwelt there. He sought wisdom like the hunter watching his prey and waited in its path to receive truth.

In the pages of The Tablet are recorded the struggles of many Catholics and other Christians. There are voices of dissent and criticism, John Hyde was one who received the ultimate truth about human life and shared it with others. He had the wonder awakened by the contemplation of creation. But central to his life was the light of revelation, the mystery of the saving plan of God, and the ultimate truth about human life given in the Paschal Mystery

Philosophy today is sometimes relegated to tidying up thinking, or analysis language. It avoids ultimate questions like: "Why is there something instead of nothing?" Philosophy tends to talk of opinions but sheers away from absolutes and certainties. But we say that every truth is but a step towards the fullness of truth which will appear with the final revelation of God. And there
can be no real dialogue unless we have a firm basis of belief and understanding of what we affirm as truth.

Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth. Today humanity is faced with the pressing issues of ecology, peace and the coexistence of different races and cultures. Christians, with the light of Faith, need to collaborate with followers of other religions and other philosophies to work for the renewal of humanity.

We need a firm vision in life and this comes from certainties which truth gives us. And we can know the truths of who I am, where I come from and where I am going, and why there is evil. We proclaim certitudes to help in steps to attain greater truth which leads to the fullness of truth which will appear with the final revelation.

Knowledge is to lead to rigorous modes of thought and produce a logical coherence of affirmations made in the organic unity of content. We are called to direct our steps toward a truth which transcends us. Too many are adrift no longer seeking the as radical questions about the meaning and foundation of human existence.

Jesus is the revealer of God, who gives the ultimate truth of life and the goal of history. Apart from Jesus the mystery of existence remains an insoluble riddle. Only in the light of Christ's passion death and resurrection are we to find answers to our dramatic questions.

Freedom is not realised in decisions against God, as it is He that enables our self-realisation. Christian revelation is the loadstar for all, and it is only when we return deep into ourselves that we will find where truth is. And this truth is gratuitous and not the product of our efforts.

Thomas Aquinas is proposed as a model of a man of faith and reason in the fullness of revelation. There are the pitfalls of eclecticism, scientism, pragmatism, and even biblicism to mention but a few.

In Hong Kong, there is a background of Chinese thought and culture, but a much stronger current of technological and financial factors. The logic of the market economic often prevails and there is every confidence in technology. But technology is only an instrument and if not guided by ultimate truths can harm humanity.

Philosophical ethics must look to the truth of the good.

In Christ is revealed the mystery of love, truth and meaning. The truth of Christ is the one definitive answer to humanity's problems. Such a philosophy provides a potent underpinning for the true and planetary ethics which the world needs. All people are to find their grandeur in choosing to enter the truth, to make a home under the shade of wisdom. Just as Mary lost nothing of her true humanity and freedom in giving her assent to Gabriel's summons, so philosophy loses nothing of its freedom when it heeds the summons of the Gospel truth.

John Hyde would delight in such words - I remember him as one hidden in the truth.

And I look to this new encyclical guiding my thoughts and leading me deeper into the Truth of God.

Born: 27 May 1931, O’Connor Square, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1963, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1967, Loyola University, Chicago IL, USA
Died: 05 December 2008, Jersey City, NJ USA

Based at St Malachy’s West 49th St, New York NY, USA at the time of death

Youngest Brother of Bob Kelly (ZAM) - RIP 2005 and Michael Kelly - RIP 2021

Son of Michael Joseph Kelly and Agnes Sheehy. Father was a managing director.

Youngest offour boys with three sisters.

Early education was at a the Christian Brothers (St Columba's) school in Tullamore for about thirteen years. He then went to UCD for one year studying engineering.

by 1966 at Cornell, Ithaca NY, USA (BUF) studying
by 1967 at Loyola Chicago (CHG) studying
by 1969 at St Peter’s College, New Jersey NJ, USA (NEB) working
by 1995 at St Malachy’s, New York NY, USA (NYK) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/fr-joseph-a-kelly-sj/

“Some people become priests because they love God, some because they love talking about God, and some, like Fr Joe Kelly, because they love people.” Joe had moved from Dublin to Jersey City in 1968, and worked in particular with students, and later actors – he played a Catholic priest in City Hall with Al Pacino. The crowds who attended Joe’s funeral in Jersey City, and the memorial Mass in Milltown Chapel, showed the affection he inspired, and the impact he made during his 59 years as a Jesuit.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/celebrating-the-pastor-of-broadway-2/
Celebrating the Pastor of Broadway
Fr. Joe Kelly SJ served for years on the Boards of the Broadway Association, the Times Square Alliance, and the Mayor’s Midtown Citizens Committee. He was also the
beloved Parochial Vicar of St. Malachy’s, The Actors’ Chapel, and was responsible for having the section of 49th Street between 8th Avenue and Broadway named “St. Malachy’s Way”. He was a much-sought-after speaker and a friend to all. To honour him for his tireless work and his wonderful contributions to the Times Square neighbourhood and the entertainment community, his caricature will hang with the “greats” on the wall at Sardi’s, a well-known Broadway restaurant. The picture will be unveiled at a cocktail party on Wednesday, May 26, 5:30-7:30 pm.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 139 : Easter 2009

Obituary

Fr Joseph A (Joe) Kelly (1931-2008)

27th May 1931: Born in Tullamore, Co. Offaly
Early education in CBS, Tullamore (St. Columba's Classical College)
1948 - 1949: Studied engineering at UCD
7th September 1949: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1951: First Vows at Emo
1951 - 1954: Rathfarnham - English Literature and Language at UCD
1954 - 1957: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1957 - 1960: Gonzaga - Teacher
1960 - 1964: Milltown Park -Studied Theology
31st July 1963: Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1964 - 1965: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1965 - 1967: Cornell University & Loyola Chicago, USA - Sociology
2nd February 1967: Final Vows
1967 - 1968: College of Industrial Relations - Lecturer
1968 - 1993: St. Peter's College, Jersey City, USA -
1968 - 1973: Chaplain
1973 - 1988: Director of Campus Ministry
1988 - 1993: Senior Development Officer
1993 - 2008: St. Malachy's Church, 49th Street, New York City -
1993 - 2003: Parochial Vicar
2003 - 2008: Assisted in the Church
2008: St. Peter's College, New Jersey
5th December 2008: Died in hospital in New Jersey, USA.

When Fr Joe Kelly died in New Jersey, many of his friends wanted to speak and write about him. Rather than a conflated obituary, here are three distinct voices with their memories of Joe: his brother Michael who spoke at the funeral Masses in Jersey City and Milltown Park; his close friend Roddy Guerrini; and a eulogist from the congregation of St Malachy's, the Actors' Chapel in New York.

The Joe of Surprises

From Fr. Michael Kelly's homilies at Joe's funeral Masses at St. Peter's College, New Jersey, and Milltown Park, Dublin
When going through Joe's things at Saint Peter's College (Jersey City) a few days after he died, I came across the book by Father Gerard Hughes, The God of Surprises. On the fly-leaf Joe had written: “This is my favourite book. If ever you find it lying round make sure it gets back to me”. Well if Joe loved the book The God of Surprises, I am quite certain that the God of Surprises in Person loved and got a great kick out of the Joe of surprises!

Joe never failed to surprise us. He surprised everybody in 1949 when he gave up engineering studies at University College Dublin to join the Jesuits. He surprised even himself in the positive way he influenced the boys at Gonzaga in the late 1950s, when he was the first Jesuit scholastic to teach there. His extensive theological understanding surprised me in Milltown Park where fate in the person of a formal Visitor to the Irish Province appointed me to be one of his theology examiners. It was my feeling that he surprised (and greatly relieved) our mother and father by staying the course to ordination, tertianship and thereafter. He surprised Saint Peter's in Jersey City, and later Saint Malachy's on Broadway, by his stunning success as Director of Campus Ministries, pastor, homilist, counsellor, and ever in-demand baptiser, solemniser of marriages, support in time of stress and grief, and (like his namesake, Joseph of Arimathea whom we heard about in the Gospel) burier of the dead.

And his death was a surprise, something totally unexpected. Though he had been having heart and circulatory problems for quite some time, he seemed to be coping with these. But on Friday 5th December things were different. That day he was leaving Saint Malachy's and changing back to Saint Peter's where he had served for 25 years. He got to his new home early in the afternoon but complained, as he had done earlier in the day, of chest pains and overwhelming tiredness. Late in the afternoon he was taken to hospital where the authorities said they would keep him under observation for a few days. As the evening wore on, they had to give him a whole bunch of IV drips and other medical supports. But in between times he was in good form, spoke to many friends on his cell-phone, was making arrangements for the coming weekend, and asked a few close friends to come and keep him company. After chatting with these for some time, he fell into a quiet sleep and a few minutes later his friends saw that his monitor had changed from blips to a straight line. In his sleep, Joe had just slipped away into the arms of the God he loved and served so well. There was no pain, distress or trouble, but great peace and calm, and for this we must, in one of his own favourite expressions, praise and thank God.

But the thing that bowled us over most of all, Joe's family on this side of the Atlantic, was the flood of people, thousands of them from New York and Jersey City, talking of the way Joe had touched their lives and crying warm tears because he had left them. We knew that Joe was a good priest, but we didn't realize how good until we saw the outpourings of love and grief, heard the testimonials, and shared the tears of some of the thousands for whom he was so significant.

Perhaps in some ways we tended to think of him as Joe the rebel, Joe the “irreverent reverend”, or in the words of one of his close friends, as Joe the Catholic anarchist. And certainly he could be a rebel, and was critical and irreverent whenever he encountered pomposity, sham, formalism, heavy-handed clerical bureaucracy, putting rules and regulations before people, using religion to enslave instead of to set free. In this he identified wholeheartedly with the Jesus he so dearly loved who scorned the pomposity, the nit picking, the ritualistic ways and the oppressive religiosity of many of the religious leaders of his time. Joe was the same. There was no side to him and he had no time for legalism or sham in today's church. He loved pomp and circumstance and good acting in the theatre, but he had no time for anything like this in the church or for anything that might make it harder for people to experience how greatly God loved them.

Mention of the theatre reminds us of Joe's very extensive work throughout the theatre world, from front stage to back stage, and the enjoyment, strength and encouragement that he in his turn got from the support of the theatre community. And it is really marvellous to hear that his friends from the theatre world are considering a celebration to remember him, to be held in a Broadway theatre some time in the New Year.

Messages have poured into St. Malachy's website testifying to Joe's dedication as a great and concerned pastor who always tried to ensure that all should be for the best with each individual whom he contacted. Let me share with you something from two of them.

The first is from Steven Kelly who acknowledges that his lifestyle is one that is not accepted by the Catholic Church but states that because of Joe he is an active Catholic and very comfortable in being one. Steven goes on: “I can remember when our church would publish the name of the priest saying the next week's Mass. They had to stop doing that because people would only go to the Mass that Father Joe was celebrating.... I know he is in a better place ... but it's not fair to all of us remaining. He will be in my heart and head for as long as I live”.

The second comes from Charles Michel, who calls himself “an old-time member of the St. Malachy's Family”. Charles wrote:
There has been a lot of talk recently about guys named Joe. “Joe” has come to stand for any regular guy who is identified with the job he does. He and his job are almost one and the same. He does his job well because this is a natural extension of who he is at his core. This was never truer than it was for "Joe the Priest”. Of all the clergy I have ever known, I cannot think of a more priestly one than Father Joe Kelly.
And here is why ... Some men become priests because they love God. Some men, especially Jesuits, become priests because they like to think about God. And some men become priests because they love to wear robes and pretend they are God!

But Joe Kelly was a priest because he loved PEOPLE. And for him loving people WAS loving God. And since he lived in a world full of people every relationship in his life was a prayer. He didn't need to fall to his knees to commune with The Almighty. He just needed to pour a glass of good wine for a friend, cook him a gourmet meal, and tell the best story ever into the wee hours of the night. ... Father Kelly knew God because he knew Susan and Paul and Margie and Sam. He saw God in the face of everyone he knew. He did not look up to heaven to see God. Instead, on countless occasions, he found God across the dinner table and he would simply say to him or her, Isn't this a good Cabernet?”

This past Sunday one of St. Malachy's long-time parishioners shared with me her last conversation with him. Joe had said to her, “The only thing I now know is that God is love. Everything else - all rules, all the theology, all the struggle, all the guilt - is meaningless”.

Again I see how near he was to the Lord Jesus, the great lover of people, who always gave pride of place to people and their needs, no matter how exhausted he was, his heart going out to them, especially if they were in trouble or seemed harassed or dejected. And that's how it was with Joe.

And Joe identified closely with the Lord in another significant way. Both of them loved feasts, banquets, celebrations, parties – Jesus to the extent that he was criticized as being a drunkard and a glutton, Joe to the extent that, as Charles said in his message, he could so easily find God across the dinner table and make it possible for others to do the same. For Joe, every celebration, every meal with friends, was the literal fulfilment of the promise made in tonight's First Reading, that God would prepare a banquet of fine wines, of food rich and juicy, and would wipe away the tears from every cheek and take away the mourning veil covering all peoples. Even in the most desolate moments, Joe's exuberant humour, vitality, wit, and interest in finding God, brought out the presence of God in every meal and gathering, not only as the God of Surprises, but also as the God of gentle healing, rejoicing and laughter. Certainly, he found God more easily and much more surely in a glass of Chateau-neuf-de pape than in any document dealing with infallibility-de-pape! And surely this comes out in the last photo taken of him on 3rd December, just two days before he died, celebrating a meal at Ciro's Restaurant in New York with Sister Peggy and some of the other stalwart women who supported him not only as a priest but also as a person whose health situation was dicey.

And let us remember that it is through a Eucharist that we are celebrating Joe tonight. And the Eucharist is a meal, a feast, a celebration - just what Joe loved. Our Eucharist is a joyful celebration with the great Master of festivities, Jesus Himself, and we find it enriching and fulfilling and a great happiness to be here.

Alongside his deep love of God and his extensive love for everyone as a child of God (recall our First Reading tonight, “We are all children of God, though we still don't know what we are to be in the future”. Joe had an extraordinary love for all the members of his many families, his natural family here in Ireland and those who became his family in New York and Jersey City.

We were a very united family, seven of us and our parents, though we were dispersed all over the place. Like myself, Joe would have heard our mother saying, “It breaks your father's heart and mine to see you going away, and yet we are glad that you are all living far from one another, because that way we know you will stay close and will not be quarrelling”. How right she was! We never knew squabbling or bickering or falling out. Coming back home, whether to Tullamore, or Newbridge or Blackrock, was always wonderful for Joe and all of us, with great reunions all round and great celebrations. Joe idolized our father, and I'm sure this helped him experience what it meant to be loved by God as Father, And our father in Tullamore worshipped the ground Joe walked on, even to the extent of refusing to let himself die until he became aware that Joe was at his side. This great warm bond between us was what Joe wanted to re-create as he tried to strengthen the union and harmony in the families of his countless friends, students and parishioners.

Joe also had a powerfully strong love for the Jesuits, the Society of Jesus to which he belonged for more than 59 years. Just one illustration of that. Going through his personal effects last week, we came across a notebook clearly marked "private". At first we were going to put it with papers to be shredded. But earlier we nearly did the same with an envelope containing a thick wad of dollars, thinking it was an old diary. So although some things remain private even in death, I thought I'd better have a quick look at the private notebook. I flicked through the pages, and what did I find? Not a single dollar! Nothing, in fact, except blank pages with just a few thinly scribbled ones at the beginning. One of these, dated August 2002, read: “I don't know how I can ever be grateful enough to my Jesuit colleagues at America House, for all the support, encouragement and boundless love they have always given me. I could never have got on without them”. This was for his own eyes only, but it shows how much it meant to him that he was a Jesuit, a member of the Society of Jesus, the Society of love. The Jesuit Community at America House, and in earlier years the Jesuit Community at St. Peter's College, were his lifeline, the umbilical cord that bound him in love and unity to his fellow Jesuits there and to his Jesuit brethren across the world.

We were indeed proud of Joe as a first class Jesuit and an excellent priest. And Oonagh and I remain very, very proud that he was our brother.

And one last thing before we end. Joe was always very close to Ed Williams of Tullamore. They were a real Jonathan and David pair in modern times. By an extraordinary coincidence, this very day of Joe's memorial Mass, 15th December, is the first anniversary of Ed's death. The bond that united these two in life was too strong to be broken by death. But perhaps I shouldn't have said "coincidence". This was no coincidence. It was the God of Surprises, dearly loved as a Person and a book by both Ed and Joe, who brought them together again. When Joe would visit Ed in Tullamore, one of Ed's daughters would pop her head into the room where Ed was sitting and announce, “The God of Surprises is at the door”. I'm sure that when Ed realized last week that Joe was at the door of heaven he would have welcomed him ecstatically and proudly presented him, the Joe of surprises, to the God of Surprises.

When the Old Testament prophet Elijah was taken up to heaven, his follower Elisha threw Elijah's cloak over his shoulders and became a great and powerful prophet in his place. May Joe's mantle of love of God and family, loyalty and love for the Society of Jesus, joy in celebration, honesty, integrity, compassion, concern for every child of God, and joy in all God's goodness, fall on the shoulders of each one of us so that our lives may help every one we deal with to encounter the surprise and the joy of God and to recognize with Joe that in the final analysis the only thing that has meaning is that God is love.

Roddy Guerrini, for many years Joe's contemporary in the Jesuits:
I think I knew Joe Kelly fairly well. We were friends as novices and continued to communicate well all our lives though separated by distance. The funeral homily is accurate. I'll add some comments to it.

Joe was highly intelligent and sensitive to people and circumstances, what you might call the signs of the times. He would hate to be called an “intellectual”, thinking the word smacked of superiority to others or conceit of self. Those who considered themselves 'intellectuals', he would think phonies or poseurs. Consequently he never talked above peoples' heads or talked down to them. But he was a fast learner in any field he engaged. In Theology he and I repeated every evening for one hour. It was all the theology I needed for the ad grad. Joe was a gifted mimic and could take off the professors and make the dullest lecture a comedy performance. In addition he had a photographic memory and hearing once was all he needed to retain the material, a great help to me who didn't always pay attention. We developed a vocabulary of our own, code words that stood for whole theses. In exam I would hear Joe's voice in my head repeating our wild theology, and answer with a straight face in the conventional way. It made theology a very agreeable experience.

Joe is portrayed in the homily a good listener. This is fair comment but omits mention of the cost. He took many problems on himself and suffered much stress as result. Often I would suggest “detach a little”. It was not in his nature. To detach seemed like “not caring”. I do believe that this 'involvement' harmed his health and took some joy out of his life.

Eulogy in Saint Malachy's Church, Broadway (The Actors Chapel):
Joe Kelly was a lover and a love. He was a lover because, as his brother, nephew and friend said at his funeral mass, he loved God and he loved people and he loved bringing God to people. He was a love because he was a warm, caring, compassionate dynamo, with an unparalleled sense of humour and such a deep humility that you just couldn't help but love him. He walked the walk – “What you do unto others, you do unto me”.

He always remembered the forgotten. Even when he was feeling weak, he managed to visit the elderly, the sick and the dying. Years ago, he had a friend who had a relative in prison. When he would visit him, the man would tell him how much he hated prison food and would love to have veal scaloppini. So, as only Joe would do, the next time he visited him, he went with a veal scaloppini sandwich wrapped in foil and plastic and strapped to his leg.

Agnes Sheehy and Michael Kelly were married on April 13, 1919 in Tullamore, County Offaly Ireland. They had 7 children, four boys and three girls; Joe was the youngest. Three of the boys became Jesuit priests: two of them served in Africa and Joe ended up here in the U.S. (lucky for us). He entered the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus at the age of 18. He was not a proud man, but he was proud of that S.J. after his name. He always took his orders in his stride, and in his early days he was assigned to be a beekeeper. He learned to love it and became quite an expert on bees and honey (and you thought he was just an expert on wine).

While studying at University in Ireland, he had to prepare a paper that was sent to Oxford for review and then he had to have a personal meeting with his reviewer, who just happened to be JRR Tolkien. During their meeting, Tolkien told Joe about a book he was currently working on called “The Lord of the Rings”.

After graduation in 1954, he became an English teacher in Ireland, and his students still love him to this day. Many have kept in touch all these years, have brought him back to Ireland to baptize and marry their children and have visited him here in NY. In 2002 they had a special dinner in Ireland to honor him. Joe was an avid bird watcher and was passionate about literature, poetry and music. He could recite entire passages from Shakespeare and frequently a poetic quote would pop out of his mouth. He had no favorite poet – he loved them all.

He left Ireland in 1965 with a heavy heart to come to the U.S. to study labour relations at Loyola in Chicago and in Cornell in NY, but ultimately he fell in love with America.

As head of Campus Ministry at St. Peter's College in Jersey City, he started the “How To Club”. He would bring the students into New York City to go to the theatre and opera, and took them to fine restaurants and taught them proper etiquette and “how to” order food and wine.

He loved opera and Gilbert & Sullivan. In fact, he usually sat there mouthing the words to the songs because he knew them all. He loved theatre. About a month ago, he called me one night and said, “I just have to share this with you – I just had the most incredible night on Broadway that I have ever had”. Phil Smith had taken him to opening night of Billy Elliott and they sat behind Elton Jon, with Mayor Bloomberg in the row behind them. Pity that they have no idea how lucky they were to be sitting so close to such a great man.

I was very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him on a number of projects for St. Malachy's so I could see him in action first hand. We worked for a whole year on the centennial dinner that was held in January 2003 and many, many hours were spent writing the keepsake journal with St. Malachy's history that was given out at the dinner, Because he was so well loved in the community, people generously responded to him and ultimately $250,000 profit was made at that dinner.

Through his tireless efforts, there is now a “St. Malachy's Way” sign at the corner of 49th Street and Eighth Avenue. He jumped through many hoops to finally get the approval and a wonderful street-naming ceremony was held in June 2003, complete with a Proclamation from the Mayor declaring June 10, 2003 “St. Malachy's Day”. He was beaming - he loved St. Malachy's and one of his dreams became a reality that day.

Aside from being active in the church, Joe was a valued and well-respected member of the community, serving on the Broadway Association, on the board of the Times Square Alliance and was appointed by the Mayor to the Mayor's Midtown Citizens Committee. The Catholic Church couldn't have asked for a better person to represent them in the secular world because everyone loved Joe Kelly and he brought a humanity to the church which attracted people from all faiths.

Joe Kelly was a friend to all, from the famous to the forgotten. He lived life to the fullest, gave unselfishly of himself, touched more lives that he could have ever imagined, and always held fast to his love of God.

I would like to close with a quotation from one of his homilies in 2001:

Years ago there was a play, a great musical here on Broadway. It was called “La Cage Aux Folles” and included a song called “The Best of Times”.
The best of times is now.
What's left of summer but a faded rose?
The best of times is now
For tomorrow, well, who knows?
Who knows?
So hold this moment fast
and live and love as hard as you know how.
And make this moment last because the best of times is now.

Then he went on to say,
“Our Lord himself said it a long time ago in the Sermon on the Mount: ‘Take today for today. Today's troubles are enough. Leave tomorrow. Leave the end of the world, leave all of that – leave even our own death in the hands of a loving and a compassionate God’.”

Joe Kelly did just that – he lived and loved as hard as he knew how. How lucky are we to have had him in our lives.

Interfuse No 162 : Winter 2015

REMEMBERING JOE KELLY

Fr Joseph Kelly (1931-2008)

In the years before he died in Jersey City in December 2008, I seldom met my brother Joe. But almost every time we managed to meet he would at some point say to me, “Michael, when I'm dead and buried no one will remember me”. Little did he know how wrong he was! Within two years of his death, the Broadway Association was instrumental in having his “caricature” hung in the renowned Sardi's Restaurant in New York, along with the greats of the theatre, film and entertainment industry. This was in recognition of the unique pastoral relationship Joe had developed with the Broadway community-actors, choristers, theatre staff - as their special friend and priest-on-call. A year later, Mary Higgins Clark, the “Agatha Christie” of American detective fiction, dedicated her novel I'll Walk Alone to Joe's memory, with the words:

Always a twinkle in this Jesuit's eye
Always a smile on his handsome face
Always faith and compassion overflowing his soul
He was the stuff of which saints are made
When all heaven protested his absence
His Creator called him home.

Some time later, in December 2013, St. Peter's Jesuit University in Jersey City dedicated to his memory a new chaplaincy unit, The Joseph A Kelly SJ Office of Campus Ministry, so that, in the words of the University President, his legacy and love could be experienced by the entire St. Peter's community, including those who never had the good fortune of knowing him personally.

Now Joe is once more being remembered in Times Square in the heart of New York where every day throughout the month of July 2016 one of the huge billboards or “signages” will recall his name, “in memory of a wonderful priest”.

At the time of his death, one of Joe's theatre-world friends wrote: “Some men become priests because they love God. Some men, especially Jesuits, become priests because they like to think about God. .... But Joe Kelly was a priest because he loved people. For him loving people was loving God. And since he lived in a world full of people, every relationship in his life was a prayer. He didn't need to fall to his knees to commune with the Almighty. He just needed to pour a glass of good wine for a friend, cook him a gourmet meal, and tell the best story ever into the wee hours of the night”.

How better could he be remembered? Thank God that the memory of a dedicated Irish Jesuit survives in New York, in St. Malachy's (the Actors’ Chapel), on Broadway, in Sardi's and in the chaplaincy unit at St. Peter's Jesuit University and the annual university walk which he instituted to gather funds to provide international food assistance. Joe, if this is what you mean by saying that no one will remember you after you are gone, let every one of us live so that we can be “forgotten” in a similar way!

Michael J Kelly

Born: 19 May 1929, O’Connor Square, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1946, St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1961, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1964, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 15 January 2021, Coptic Hospital, Lusaka, Zambia - Zambiae-Malawi Province (ZAM)

Part of the St Ignatius, Lusaka community at the time of death

Transcribed HIB to ZAM 03 December 1969

Middle Brother of Bob Kelly (ZAM) - RIP 2005 and Joseph A Kelly - RIP 2008

Son of Michael Joseph Kelly and Agnes Sheehy. Father was a managing director.

Sixth in a family of four boys with three sisters.

Early education was at a the Christian Brothers (St Columba’s) school in Tullamore for about thirteen years.

Ordained at Milltown Park

1946-1948 St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
1948-1952 Rathfarnham Castle - Studying
1952-1955 St Stanislaus College Tullabeg - Studying Philosophy
1955-1958 Chikuni, Zambia - Regency, studying language then teaching at Canisius College
1958-1962 Milltown Park - studying Theology
1962-1963 Rathfarnham Castle - Tertianship
1963-1971 Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia - teaching; (1964-1970) Proncipal (1966-1969) Rector
1971-1973 Birmingham, England, - studying Child Psychology
1973-1974 Ireland
1974-1975 Jesuit House, Handsworth Park, Lusaka, Zambia -
1975-1976 Moreau House, Mazabuka, Zambia
1976-1978 UNZA Hostel, Lusaka, Zambia - Professor of Education at UNZA; Education Consultant;
1978-1986 Luwisha House, Lusaka, Zambia - Professor of Education at UNZA; Education Consultant; Writer re HIV AIDS; (1975-1979) Dean, School of Education; (1979-1983) Deputy Vice Chancellor
1986-1987 Rue de Grenelle, Paris, France - International Institute of Education, planning visitng fellow
1987-2011 Luwisha House, Lusaka, Zambia - Education Consultant; Writer re HIV AIDS;
2011-2012 Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin - recovering health
2012-2020 Luwisha House, Lusaka, Zambia - Professor of Education at UNZA; Education Consultant; Writer re HIV AIDS
2020-2021 St Ignatius, Lusaka, Zambia

◆ Irish Jesuit Missions
Fr. Michael Kelly Honorary Degree Conferring
Honorary Degree Conferring, RCSI, 6th June 2012
In accepting the honorary doctorate that RCSI has just now conferred on me I feel greatly honoured, greatly humbled and greatly privileged: honoured that RCSI should recognise in this way the limited contributions I have been able to make in advocating for more and better education for girls, a better deal for orphaned children and a more coherent response to HIV and AIDS; humbled that I should have been singled out from the great number of people world-wide who are dedicating themselves so wholeheartedly to efforts to stem the AIDS epidemic and who see girls’ education as central to this; and privileged that I can represent in some way so many thousands of wonderful people across the world whose lives have been darkened by the shadows of HIV or AIDS but who never lost heart.
Ladies and Gentlemen, forty-nine years ago the great Martin Luther King shared with the world his dream that, among other things, one day his four children would live in a nation where they would be judged not by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.
Dr. King’s dream speech inspired his people and transformed the face of the United States to such an extent that less than four years ago the country elected its first ever black President, who could affirm: “Where we are met with cynicism and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people, Yes We Can!”
Ladies and Gentlemen, Graduating Students, our vision for global health is also a dream, a dream which strongly reaffirms that the enjoyment of good health is a fundamental human right and that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment the actualisation of this right remains a possibility. In the words of Barack Obama, we here at this RCSI conferring ceremony can affirm with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of this great institution - yes, we can.
Yes, we can eliminate infant and child mortality, and ensure universal vaccination coverage against measles, polio and other diseases.
Yes, we can roll back the malaria which affects over 200 million people each year.
Yes, we can reduce and eventually eliminate the almost nine million new cases of tuberculosis that occur each year.
Yes, we can reach the global targets of zero new HIV infections, zero AIDS deaths and zero HIV-related discrimination.
Yes, we can even address the enormous challenges of neglected tropical diseases which currently affect more than 1,000 million people and thrive in the poorest, most marginalised communities.
Yes, we can ensure the access of all peoples - here and in all other parts of the world - to a level of health care that will help them lead a satisfying, full and productive human life.
Yes, we can do it and we are doing it.
Let me speak for a few moments about my own country, Zambia, where just three months ago a team of nine doctors successfully removed a fourteen-and-a-half kilo tumour from the back of a young man. Of course, the tumour should never have been allowed to grow to such size, but that it could be successfully removed speaks well for the medical services that a developing country can provide .
In recent years, Zambia has also seen considerable improvements in many of the markers for health care:
A significant reduction in child mortality;
• HIV infection rates falling steadily and substantially among young women and young men;
• About 90% of adults who are in need of anti-retroviral therapy receiving it, the result being fewer AIDS-related deaths;
• Among infants a dramatic reduction in deaths arising from the transmission of HIV from parent to child;
• More widespread use of anti-malarial drugs, an increase in the numbers sleeping under anti-mosquito impregnated bed-nets, and more widespread spraying of mosquitos.
Yes, we can do it and we are doing it. But we need to do it more quickly. We need to do it more
quickly for the sake of the millions whose lives are being blighted by preventable ill-health. We need to do it more quickly for the sake of our own human integrity since we have made promises that too often we honour more in the breach than in the fulfilment.
And for this we need more financial and material resources. We need more civic and political commitment. We need more human resources.
Believing, as RCSI does, that the person is at the centre of everything we do, we need a more enlightened priority system that ranks health, education, social services and job creation higher than bailing out questionable financial institutions, and certainly higher than squandering public resources on doomed investments and extravagant and even corrupt undertakings.
And that requires that every one of us here today pulls together to make this a better and more decent world. It requires that we become radically committed to eliminating scandalous inequalities in the access of people to health care. It means that we firmly believe that each one of us can make a difference for the better.
George Bernard Shaw once said: “Some look at things that are, and ask, why? I dream of things that never were and ask, why not?”
Distinguished Ladies and Gentlemen, Graduating Students, let this conferring day be memorable for the way it motivates each one of us to dream of something that never was - a peaceful, healthy and more just world - and ask “why not? Why can’t I do something to make it so? What am I doing to make this a better world? What more can I do to ensure peace and health and basic justice for all people?”
I thank you.
Michael J. Kelly, S.J. Lusaka, Zambia

24 October 2012
Irish Jesuit, Fr Michael Kelly SJ, was conferred with The Order of Distinguished Service by Zambian President Edgar Lungu, in State House, Lusaka on 24th October.

The honour was given to Fr Kelly in acknowledgment for his tireless commitment to ending HIV and AIDS in Zambia. He has worked for decades to educate people about the virus and to promote safe behaviour among youth and those most at risk in Zambia, sub-Saharan Africa, and abroad. He has been active in developing strategies for HIV prevention, and human rights, and has been a consultant to international organisations including UNESCO, UNICEF, the FAO, UNAIDS, Oxfam and Irish Aid.

Fr Kelly went to Zambia as a Jesuit missionary in 1955 and spent most of his working life there in education, as a teacher and administrator at secondary and university level. He felt from the outset that it was home and that he was welcomed there. He became a Zambian citizen in the 1960s, a decision he says he never regretted. In later years, he was deeply saddened by the numbers of people who were dying because of the country’s AIDS epidemic and vowed to address the problem, through the schools.

This is not the first honour that Fr Kelly has received due to his outstanding work. He was awarded an Honorary Degree by University College Dublin in 2006, and the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland (RCSI) in 2012. Since 2006, Irish Aid has honoured Father Michael’s achievements through the Annual Father Michael Kelly HIV/AIDS Event, timed to coincide with World AIDS Day (1st December)

A JESUIT’S WORK WITH HIV AND AIDS
Michael J. Kelly, S.J., was one of the first ten recipients of the new Presidential Distinguished Service Awards at Áras an Uachtaráin on 15th November 2012.
President Michael D. Higgins said the new Award allowed the State to formally honour exceptional individuals and to recognise the “sacrifice, support and commitment to Ireland of the wider Irish diaspora in all its diversity”.

Fr Michael J. Kelly writes below about his campaigning struggle against the global epidemic of HIV/Aids :
When AIDS exploded on the world in the 1980s, I was lecturing in education at the University of Zambia. It soon became obvious to me that I would have to take account of this new disease in my teaching, research and priestly work.
Deaths and funerals were becoming the order of the day. Across the country people were dying in large numbers, most of them parents with young families, leaving behind them children to be reared and educated by communities which were being overwhelmed by the great number of orphans. Teachers and education administrators were also falling sick and dying in large numbers.
I quickly saw that the courses I was teaching had to say something about this totally new situation. They had to speak about adjusting to the potential loss of teachers, about the great numbers of orphans that would be coming into the schools, about teaching children traumatised by the loss to a dehumanising sickness of greatly loved family members, about communities shattered and bewildered and impoverished by the sickness and deaths of their most productive members.
But the courses also had to suggest how the very process of education could help check the disease and what could be done to protect the education system itself against the disease’s destructive impacts. From then on, my work was guided by what I termed education’s “minimax” response to the pandemic: minimise the potential of HIV and AIDS to harm the education sector, maximise the potential of the education sector to control the disease and reduce its harmful effects.
This was a new approach at the time, so new that the University of Zambia has the distinction of being one of the first universities in the world to take account of HIV and AIDS in its teaching programmes. Increasingly, I began to study, write and give presentations about AIDS and education. It was not long until we began to speak about the potential of education to provide a “social vaccine” against the disease, an approach that UNAIDS, the highest world authority on the disease, still strongly advocates.
Gradually I found myself being drawn more and more into national and international discussions on the two-way interaction between AIDS and education, into advocacy and awareness-raising in regard to orphans, and eventually into a wide spectrum of AIDS-related areas, almost all of them with strong social justice implications – stigma, poverty, the subordinate status of women, human rights, the marginalisation of whole categories of people, unfair north-south trade and other practices, food security, environmental protection, global failure to deal honestly with several AIDS-related issues.
The outcome was a greatly extended engagement on my part with the pandemic and extensive commitments to activities across the world on its educational and other implications. As the demands became greater, it eventually became necessary for me to retire from the University of Zambia so that I could dedicate myself more wholeheartedly to the work of confronting HIV and AIDS nationally and globally. And it is to this work that I remain committed. AIDS is not yet over. People are still dying. AIDS continues to consume them. It also consumes me, not in body but in spirit, and challenges me with the great Jesuit questions: “What have I done for Christ who is suffering with HIV and AIDS? What more should I be doing so that there is less AIDS and more chance that people can live with greater human dignity in a world that comes closer to being the happy world God had planned it to be?”
In many ways the answers are simple. There is need for more honesty in dealing with central AIDS issues. There is need to avoid complacency and recognise how far the world is from seeing an end to the pandemic. There is need for an uncompromising stand on making social justice a reality for every child, woman and man. There is need for more resources for those affected by the pandemic and for research that will lead to its control.
To the extent that I can respond to any of these needs I must do so. The miracle of those living with HIV or AIDS demands this of me. For as long as one person remains with HIV or the disease deprives one child of a parent, I cannot stop. Until God calls me, or AIDS ends, I simply must keep going.

22 August 2015
August 22nd will be the 60th anniversary of my first arrival in Zambia in 1955. I was young and inexperienced then, but greatly excited at the prospect of sharing with others my life and whatever expertise I had and thereby communicating the Good News of Jesus Christ.
A spirit of céad míle fáilte
I am now old and somewhat decrepit, but blissfully happy that I can still share myself and the word of God with my Zambian sisters and brothers. I am deeply indebted to them for the sincerity with which they welcomed me into their lives and society. The spirit was always that of céad míle fáilte. I felt this right from the outset, though the feeling was deepened when I became a Zambian citizen in the mid- 1960s, a step that I never for a second regretted, though I recall the tears it caused to my mother!
I spent most of my working life in Zambia in education — teaching and administering — at secondary school and university levels. It is a great pleasure today to meet so many who had been “through my hands” at school or university and to see them successful in life, most of them happily married and parents of lovely families, some of them grandparents, and some of them priests or religious.
But there is also the sadness of knowing that many have died, especially that many died from AIDS. Very soon after the world became aware of this terrible scourge, I saw that it was a challenge that we would have to do something about through our schools, not only in Zambia but all over the world. This realisation drew me into thinking, teaching, writing and speaking about the give-and-take between AIDS and education, into speaking out on behalf of orphans, and eventually into a wide range of AIDS-related areas.
In my AIDS work I have met and been influenced by many remarkable people infected with the disease. I don’t think I could have continued were it not for them, above all the women and the children. I felt driven by their suffering and the way it had undercut their very humanity. But equally I felt driven by their resilience, their spirit, their determination, their courage, and their cheerfulness.
Brigitte Syamalevwe: fearless and powerful
Most uplifting of all was Brigitte Syamalevwe, a highly educated Zambian woman who was diagnosed with HIV in 1992. Instead of staying at home feeling sorry for herself, Brigitte travelled around, speaking fearlessly, feelingly, and powerfully about the epidemic and her situation. She refused to take life-saving anti-retroviral drugs when these were offered to her, saying she would do so only when the poor of Zambia, and particularly the women, could also have access to such treatment. Even at the very end, when I had paid for the drugs that could save her, she told her family not to collect them but to leave her in God’s hands. And so, overwhelmed by grief, weariness and illness, she died quietly and peacefully, letting her great spirit soar to the God whom she had loved and served so well.
Brigitte was an Easter witness in the darkness of HIV and AIDS. You just had to be inspired by her. She and people like her show the strength of the human spirit and give real promise that we can make this a better world.
Sixty glorious, happy, fulfilling, satisfying years
Coming back to myself and thinking about my 60 years in Zambia, I wouldn’t ask for a minute of them to have been any different for me. They have been 60 glorious, happy, fulfilling, satisfying years and I thank God for every second of them. Of course there were setbacks and difficulties, very especially the grief and anguish of seeing the way AIDS was ravaging the people. But the overwhelming picture is one of joy and gladness and an awareness that God is working all things together for good.
I ask you to join with me in praising and thanking God that it has been so.

June 2016
A MUSEUM PIECE OR A HERO?
Early in May a new state-of-the-art interactive-type museum, EPIC Ireland, was opened in the vaults of the docklands CHQ building in Dublin. The new museum focuses on the Irish abroad and the Irish diaspora, what they have done and what they are doing in various parts of the world.
The Museum Director has informed me, as a matter of courtesy, that they are featuring my story in the visitor experience and will continue to do so for the coming ten years. I have no idea what aspects of my ‘story’ are touched on, but it is reassuring to know that at last I have found my proper niche - as a museum piece!
Distinguished Visitor visits ‘her hero’
On May 25th, which was Africa Freedom Day, I was greatly honoured when the former Irish President Mary Robinson, called at Luwisha House to see me. She was in Lusaka for a few days to speak to a top- level meeting of the African Development Bank on ecological, clean power and climate-change issues. Noting that I was not present when she met some members of the Irish community shortly after her arrival in Lusaka, Mrs. Robinson asked the Irish Ambassador if she could come to see me as I was ‘her hero’ (https://www.jesuitmissions.ie/news/410-irish-men-behind-the-missions-fr-michael-j-kelly-sj). God save the mark!
To talk of many things
During her stay of about an hour she and I talked about many things – progress against HIV and AIDS, the empowerment of women, the problems faced by children, clean energy and solar power, population growth, and even family.
Unfortunately I had to acknowledge that so far we here at Luwisha House had done nothing about installing a solar power system, even though we are very suitably placed to do so, with the sun beaming down on us all day almost every day of the year.
But I was able to redress the balance a little by drawing attention to the work being done by the Jesuit Centre for Ecology and Development in Malawi (http://jcedmw.org/jced-as-a-new-project-of-the-jesuit- fathers/) and the development there of a cooking stove that is very economical in its use of charcoal, something that Mrs. Robinson said she had heard about.
It was indeed a great honour to receive this surprise visit from such an eminent and busy person. I greatly appreciated it.
Michael J. Kelly SJ, Luwisha House, Lusaka, Zambia. June 2016

20 July 2020
MICHAEL J. KELLY FEATURED ON STAMP
The pioneering work of Irish Jesuit, Michael J. Kelly SJ, as an educator and a campaigner for HIV/AIDS in his adopted home of Zambia, has been honoured on a postage stamp from An Post (https://www.anpost.com/AnPost/media/PDFs/The-Collecto_1st-Ed_2020_AW_FOR-WEB.pdf) which is part of a set to mark St. Patrick's Day.
The Irish Abroad series of five stamps, marks the contribution that emigrants from Ireland made to their respective communities overseas. Fr Kelly (1929-), who was born in Tullamore, shares the stamp with award-winning author Edna O’Brien (1930-) from Co. Clare, and also with Cork-born humanitarian worker Mary Elmes (1908-2002) who saved the lives of 200 Jewish children in France during the Holocaust.
In 1955 Fr Kelly left Ireland for Northern Rhodesia, which would become the Republic of Zambia in 1964. Over the next 60 years, he held a series of appointments across the country, which resulted in his nomination as Deputy Vice-Chancellor of the University of Zambia in 1980 and a promotion to Professor of Education in 1989.
He worked tirelessly to get rid of the stigma of HIV/AIDS through education and advocacy work across Zambia and further afield.
Very soon after the world became aware of this terrible scourge [HIV/AIDS], I saw that it was a challenge that we would have to do something about through our schools, not only in Zambia but all over the world. This realisation drew me into thinking, teaching, writing and speaking about the give-and-take between AIDS and education, into speaking out on behalf of orphans, and eventually into a wide range of AIDS-related areas.
In my AIDS work I have met and been influenced by many remarkable people infected with the disease. I don’t think I could have continued were it not for them, above all the women and the children. I felt driven by their suffering and the way it had undercut their very humanity. But equally I felt driven by their resilience, their spirit, their determination, their courage, and their cheerfulness.
In 2006, the Irish Government established the annual Father Michael Kelly Lecture on HIV and AIDS, which is now an annual event. In 2019 the theme was 'HIV & AIDS: Women, Sexual Reproductive Health and Rights'. (https://globalhealth.ie/womens-sexual-and-reproductive-health- rights-leaving-no-one-behind/)Fr Kelly delivered a compelling video message to the audience about the need to educate women and girls in Zambia to protect themselves from HIV infection. (https://globalhealth.ie/womens-sexual-and-reproductive-health-rights-leaving-no-one-behind/)
Fr Kelly has been the recipient of many awards, in Ireland and abroad for his aid work. In recognition of his contribution to education in Zambia and worldwide HIV advocacy, the Association of Commonwealth Universities presented him with the Symons Award in September 2003. He has received several honorary degrees including Doctor of Science (2004), from the University of the West Indies, Doctor of Laws from NUI (2006) and an honorory doctorate from the Royal College of Surgeons (2012).
The Forum for Women Educationists in Africa (Zambia Chapter) awarded him the first ever Kabunda Kayongo Award for “immense contribution through research on girls’ education” (2006) and the First Lady of South Africa, Madame Thobeka Zuma, presented him with a Humanitarian Award for commitment to health and HIV and AIDS in the southern African region (2010).
He received the Presidential Distinguished Service Award from President Michael D. Higgins (https://www.jesuitmissions.ie/news/241-fr-michael-j-kelly-sj-receives-new-presidential-award) at Áras an Úachtaráin in November 2012, which honours the Irish diaspora in recognition of its sustained and distinguished service abroad. (https://www.jesuitmissions.ie/news/241-fr-michael-j-kelly-sj-receives-new-presidential-award)
Fr Kelly's is also one of over 320 emigrant stories that is featured at EPIC: The Irish Emigration Museum (https://epicchq.com/)in the CHQ Building in Dublin.

Born: 17 October 1924, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1943, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1957, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1961, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 08 March 2005, John Chula House, Lusaka, Zambia - Zambia-Malawi province (ZAM)

Part of the St Ignatius, Lusaka, Zambia community at the time of death

Eldest Brother of Joseph A Kelly - RIP 2008 and Michael Kelly - RIP 2021

Transcribed HIB to ZAM : 03 December 1969

by 1952 at Chikuni, Chisekesi, N Rhodesia (POL Mi) working - fourth wave of Zambian Missioners

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Fr Bob (as he was always called) Kelly was born in Tullamore in the midlands of Ireland on 13 July 1925. He attended the Christian Brothers’ school in Tullamore until he finished his secondary education. He then entered the Jesuits at Emo Park in 1943. He followed the normal course of studies in the Society but for regency he went to Northern Rhodesia in 1951 with Fr Joe Conway. They were the first of the Irish scholastics to go there. He began by learning ciTonga and then taught at Canisius Secondary School. Even then he seemed to have a flair for the language as he wrote a polycopied codex called ‘Tonga without Tears’, the first of a number of his publications.

Whatever Fr Bob did, he put his heart and soul into it. After his ordination to the priesthood in 1957 in Dublin, Ireland, and his tertianship, he returned to Northern Rhodesia in 1959 to Canisius Secondary School where he taught for ten years and was Spiritual Father to the boys as well. With his degree in English he was a very clear teacher. Apart from teaching, he developed the school canteen donning the cap of a busy shopkeeper, organized the films (cinema) for the boys, ordering them from Rhodesia and worrying if they were delayed in coming. In order to help the boys follow the films Fr Bob would write a long, detailed preview for them. When the school annuals began to appear, he would be prowling around with his camera! Whatever was going on in the school, Fr Bob would be there. He mixed well with the boys and had their confidence and trust.

He moved from Canisius to St Edmund's Secondary School in Mazabuka, again teaching and being Spiritual Father for nine years, bringing him up to 1978. As with Canisius he was so involved with the school that he even cheered for St Edmund's when they were playing football against Canisius!

The Pioneer Total Abstinence Association (PTAA) is an association to help others by voluntarily giving up all alcoholic drink. Fr Bob himself became a full pioneer just before he entered the Society in 1943. As the Association had begun in the Southern Province and was beginning to spread, the Episcopal Conference appointed him as National Director, a post he held for over twenty years. So ended his formal teaching after twenty one years and he moved to Lusaka. Again his thoroughness brought him around the country promoting the Association, giving talks, retreats, organizing rallies. He had to contend at times with Pioneer centres trying to introduce new rules such as: ‘we want a uniform, we must wear the badge over the heart only, smokers cannot be pioneers’!

He became parish priest at St Ignatius Church in Lusaka for four years and then moved to Kitwe from 1989 to 1991. School retreats and retreats for religious were a big feature in his life. He was a very spiritual man, a man of prayer and a very good preacher. So many people have been helped by him as he was a man of compassion.

Normally one would not associate Fr Bob with singing but he produced a booklet of charismatic hymns, ‘Songs of Praise’ which went into five editions. As director of PTAA, he produced a Handbook for the Association which was also translated into ciNyanja as well as a popular booklet ‘A Christian solution to a national problem’(drink).

Apart from Pioneer material, Fr Bob wrote ten books over the years: Planted in Love; Calming the Storm; Stories New and Old; Hidden with Christ; With Unveiled Faces; A Joy so Glorious; Fan into Flame; Be Still and Know; In Love with God; HIV/AIDS a Response.

He moved from Kitwe to St Ignatius in Lusaka again in 1995 helping out in the parish with pastoral work. He had a good sense of humour, liked a good game of cards in his earlier days and was endowed with a practical, realistic outlook on life.

His health began to deteriorate in 2004 and he moved to Chula House, the Jesuit Nursing Home. He died peacefully at 06.55 on the morning of Tuesday 8 March 2005. As his body lay in the chapel at Chula House before he was taken to the Ambassador Funeral Home, a beautiful butterfly was seen hovering over Fr Bob's body.

Note from Bernard (Barney) Collins Entry
In 1951 he accompanied the first two scholastics, Bob Kelly and Joe Conway, and Br. Jim Dunne, on their way to the then Northern Rhodesia.

Note from Joseph B (Joe) Conway) Entry
He arrived in Chikuni in August 1951 with Fr Robert Kelly, the first two Irish scholastics to be sent to the Zambian mission

Note from Bill Lane Entry
Not long before Fr Bill Lane died, he was chatting with Fr Bob Kelly at St lgnatius, Lusaka. A young lady whom they both knew had died in a very sudden manner at U.T.H. Fr Bill remarked, ‘You know, Bob, that's the way I'd like to go, quickly and without fuss’. And that is the way it happened.

Note from Ray Lawler Entry
Now at the age of sixty, Ray had a sabbatical in Toronto. Then came a big change in his life when he opted to come to Zambia, Africa where he spent two years teaching French and Scripture to the novices in Lusaka. Fr Bob Kelly went on sabbatical for a year and left his gleaming new car in charge of Ray whose talents did not extend to motor maintenance!

◆ Irish Jesuit Missions : https://www.jesuitmissions.ie/news?start=225

IRISH MEN BEHIND THE MISSIONS: BOB KELLY SJ
Jesuit missionaries and volunteers were remembered at the annual Memorial Mass on 30th November at Milltown Institute.
One such Jesuit was Fr Bob Kelly SJ who died in 2005. We continue our series Irish Men behind the Missions with Bob’s inspiring story, written by his colleague Fr Charlie Searson SJ.

An unusual mission in Zambia
Fr Bob Kelly SJ was born in Tullamore, County Offaly in the midlands of Ireland on July 13th 1925. After attending the local Christian Brothers’ school he joined the Jesuit Novitiate in Emo in 1943 and in 1951 was missioned to Zambia, then known as Northern Rhodesia. He spent 54 years of his life there.
Bob prepared himself to announce the Gospel by immersing himself in the local culture and language. As a scholastic and later as a priest, he taught at Canisius Secondary School near Monze where he was the Spiritual Father. His pupils remember his “office” as a place where boys could drop in for a chat or to read.
Bob developed the school canteen as a social area and he made sure that a film was sent up each week from South Africa. He took photographs and wrote articles about school life for the school magazine. He was later sent to St Edmund’s, a Christian Brothers’ Secondary School in Mazabuka, where he spent nine years in similar work.
Up until now Bob had followed a missionary path that is familiar to many Irish missionaries announcing “the joy of the Gospel” through education and pastoral work.
However his missionary life was about to make a major turn.

The Pioneer work begins
Since his schooldays Bob had been a member of the Irish Pioneer Total Abstinence Association[1]. The Pioneer Association had been brought to Zambia in 1958 by Fr Barney Collins SJ and soon spread rapidly across the country.
Like Ireland, Zambia has an ambiguous relationship with alcohol. While some people drink very moderately there is a large group in both countries who drink far too much, causing grave harm to themselves and their families.
To address the problem of excessive drinking, the Bishops of Zambia set up a National Pioneer Office in 1978 and Fr Bob Kelly was appointed as the first National Director of the Pioneers in Zambia.
Bob gave up the security of his work in schools and parishes and took to the road. Zambia is a very large country, about 12 times the size of Ireland. Bob visited each diocese in the country several times over in the next 17 years.

Motivated by love and compassion
Bob was also involved in another aspect of missionary work which others often neglect. Before the era of computers, he spent long hours writing excellent manuals which put down in a clear, convincing style the purpose of the Pioneers. The title of one of his booklets sums up his dream: A Christian Solution to a National Problem. The Pioneers still depend on Bob’s books today. He was at pains to point out that the Pioneers are focused not on alcohol but on the love of God as revealed in the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Pioneers are motivated by that love and by compassion for families torn apart by alcohol related harm.
The ability of the missionary to address a wide range of social issues — in addition to announcing the Gospel, celebrating the sacraments and calling people to a life of prayer — is a sign that the mission respects the culture while also evangelising it. Bob loved the local culture but was not afraid to challenge it. Drunkenness is never something to excuse or to joke about. For him, it was contrary to the Gospel.

Bringing fire on the earth
Bob was famous for his dynamic school retreats. His book of hymns Songs of Praise is still widely used today and has gone into its fifth edition. He wrote 10 very popular books on spirituality. Much of his excellent material is available on the web: http://bit.ly/rkellybooks (https://bit.ly/rkellybooks)
In 1995 he handed over the management of the Pioneers to Fr Paddy Joyce (from Galway, Ireland) but he remained active in parish work in Kitwe and Lusaka until his death in 2005 at the age of 80.
The life and work of Bob Kelly in Zambia over 54 years exemplifies in dramatic form the great missionary words of Jesus: “I have come to bring fire on the earth and how I wish it were blazing already!” (Luke 12:49). Through his teaching, retreats and parish work and his tireless dedication to the spiritual and organisational aspects of the Pioneers, Bob made a unique contribution to the integral evangelisation of Zambia.

Continuing Bob Kelly’s Pioneer work
After over 100 years of the Church’s presence in this part of Africa, most of the present missionaries are Zambian bishops, priests, religious and laity. They are the ones who are spearheading the missionary work.
In November 2013 the Ministry of Health in Zambia produced its first draft National Alcohol Policy. This policy has still not been approved by the Cabinet and implemented through the various line ministries. The work so well carried out by Fr Bob Kelly SJ still waits for missionaries to complete it.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 128 : Special Issue June 2006

Obituary

Robert (Bob) Kelly (1925-2005)

July 13th 1925: Born in Tullamore, Ireland
September 7th 1943: Entered in Emo Park
July 31st 1957: Ordained in Milltown Park, Dublin
February 2nd 1961: Final Vows in Chikuni
March 8th 2005: Died in Lusaka.

From Newsletter for Zambia-Malawi:
Robert “Bob” Kelly was born in the midlands in Ireland in 1925 into a very devout Catholic family. He had three brothers and three sisters. He attended the Christian Brothers School in Tullamore until he completed his secondary education. He then entered the Jesuits in 1943. Two of his brothers, Michael and Joseph, followed him into the Society.

In 1951, he came to Zambia (then Northern Rhodesia) for his regency, the first of the Irish scholastics to come here. He began learning ciTonga, for which he seemed to have a flair, later composing a polycopied codex of the language called, Tonga without Tears. After language studies, he taught at Canisius Secondary School.

In 1959, after theology, ordination and tertianship in Ireland, he returned to Chikuni. For the next ten years, he taught English at Canisius and was Spiritual Father to the boys. Apart from his very clear teaching, Bob developed the school canteen and organized the boys' cinema. When the school began producing annuals, he would be seen prowling around with his camera catching on film the activities in the school. He mixed well with the boys and had their trust and confidence. In 1969 he moved to the Christian Brothers' school, St. Edmund's, in Mazabuka, where he remained as teacher and spiritual guide until 1978. Here, too, he had a great influence on the students.

When still a young man, Bob joined the Pioneer Total Abstinence Association, making a promise to God that he would never drink alcohol. This was a life long sacrifice based on devotion to the Sacred Heart, the symbol of the heart of the human Jesus burning with love for us all. In 1978 he was appointed by the Provincial and the Episcopal Conference as National Director of the Pioneers. He moved to Lusaka and with his usual thoroughness, travelled around the country promoting the Association through talks, retreats, and rallies. He carried on this work, with a few brief interruptions, until 1995.

One of these interruptions happened when he was appointed Parish Priest of St. Ignatius in 1985. This was a job that didn't suit Bob and nearly drove him to an early grave. After a little more than a year at the work, he had to return to Ireland to rest and recover. While in Ireland, he wrote the first of his ten popular spiritual books among which were Planted in Love, Calming the Storm and A Joy so Glorious.

In 1988 he returned to Zambia and was sent to join the Jesuit community in Kitwe. All through his years as Pioneer Director he had been developing a very effective apostolate giving retreats to Religious and secondary school children. From Kitwe he continued this work and helped greatly in the development of the new parish of Our Lady of Africa, in Riverside.

Bob returned to Lusaka as Assistant Parish Priest of St. Ignatius in 1995. Without the responsibility, and shielded from the conflicts of administration, he flourished as a powerful preacher of God's unconditional love, and as a confessor and spiritual companion for many many people.

Towards the end of 2004, because of seriously deteriorating health, he moved to the Jesuit Infirmary, John Chula House, and prayed for us all until his death on 8th March 2005.

From an account for Bob's Family, written by his brother, Michael
Bob experienced at least four strokes, in September 2002, March 2004 September 20th 2004, and on September 22nd/23rd 2004. Although he recovered reasonably well from the earlier episodes, he never really recovered from the second stroke he got in September 2004. With some help, he could still look after himself, but his movements became very limited and he lost much of his ability to carry on a conversation (though at times he could recognise and acknowledge individuals).

With the slow deterioration in his condition he began to develop some aggressiveness which had to be controlled by medication. Throughout January and February he continued to decline, eating less and, because he did not use his glasses, seeing little if anything. But he was not confined to bed and was up each day, sitting in a chair or going to the refectory for his meals. At first he could feed himself, but later he had to be fed with a spoon, although he could manage to drink by himself from a cup or glass. This remained his pattern until Saturday 5th March, So until that day he was mobile, even though he had to be helped to get around.

On Sunday 6th March his breathing became bad (gurgly) and difficult. Next day, the doctor diagnosed pneumonia and prescribed anti-biotics. He also arranged for him to get oxygen, was able to clear one lung of fluids, and used a suction device to clear the chest of whatever Bob was able to cough up. All of this gave him great relief. Those who were with him say that this was the only time that he experienced physical distress and this was for a very short time. Other than this he had no pain whatsoever.

The doctor who looked after Bob on that last day was Dr Francis Kaunda, a former pupil of Bob's and mine and son of former President Kaunda. His arrival at his bedside was providential. Dr Kaunda's car had broken down, so he came into the Jesuit house for the sick and elderly to look for help and while there to look in on Bob. That was around midday. I'm told that he stayed attending to Bob until about 9 o'clock that night. Father Joe Keaney arrived in the afternoon and found him still there, saying the Rosary while keeping an eye on Bob in the bed.

Father Klaus sat with Bob throughout Monday evening and all through Monday night/Tuesday morning. Bob was quiet and peaceful during the night. About 6.00 a.m. Klaus noticed Bob stirring and asked him if he would like a drink—coffee, a cup of tea, a coke, a fanta? He says that Bob answered loud and clear: “A cup of tea would be nice”. They were his last words. He slipped back into a kind of slumber and went away peacefully and quietly half an hour later, at 6.55 in the morning, Zambian time (4.55 Irish time).

Sister Lucy O'Brien, the great Holy Rosary Sister, Surgeon and helper of people, was always a great friend of Bob's. When she could, she would visit him and last saw him in Chula House some time in February. Because of her own infirmities and advanced years she begins the day later than some others in Zambia. On the morning that Bob died she woke at about ten to seven and then suddenly experienced a joy so glorious that it could not be described. She felt surrounded by joy and happiness, bubbling over with joy and gladness, and everything around her spoke a message of joy and peace and happiness. A very short time later, one of the other Sisters came into her room to tell her that Bob had died - and as it turned out just at the time Lucy had such an experience of wonder and joy. She is convinced that it was Bob's way of telling her that he had gone to heaven.

During that last hour of Bob's life, Father Vincent Cichecki was saying Mass in the Oratory next door. Vincent is an elderly Polish priest, a survivor of Dachau, so very much a realist. He told me that after his Mass, when he came back into the Oratory for a few prayers, he saw something on the ground just in front of the tabernacle, kind of pulsating. When he went up to it, he found a large beautiful butterfly, stranded and flapping its wings on the ground. He said he immediately thought of Bob and the way he was breathing - and that was the very minute that Bob died. When his body was brought into the Oratory later in the day, before being brought to the funeral parlour, the butterfly was still there, but now up in the air and flitting around all the time. But when the body was removed to the funeral parlour, they found the butterfly dead in the oratory and they are drying it out for me as a keepsake). When I heard all that, I thought of Mary and the white butterflies for her Dad. When I told Father Vincent about this, his eyes filled with tears and he told me that in Poland the butterfly is the sign of the resurrection.

After lying for some hours in the Oratory at Chula House, where he died, Bob's body was brought to St. Anne's funeral parlour for embalming and preparation for the funeral. That was on Tuesday evening. It remained in the funeral parlour until Thursday afternoon, by which time I had arrived back in Zambia. A number of us gathered there at about 3.30 and then at 4 o'clock left for St. Ignatius' Church. Quite a large crowd had gathered at St. Ignatius, a couple of hundred, very many of them young people.

Fathers Joe Keaney, John Mwelwa, Charles Chilinda, Clive Dillon-Malone and Jack Doyle were all there in vestments to receive the body. One of the prayers brought out that Bob had been a minister of God's word, and so a large Bible was placed on the coffin. A second prayer spoke of him as a minister of Christ's cross and mission and this was symbolised by placing a large Crucifix. Both Bible and Crucifix remained on the coffin throughout the funeral Mass next day, until it was taken for burial. Following the prayers the coffin was brought to the altar. Instead of being placed length-wise in the church, it was placed on a smaller bier right in front of and parallel to the altar, almost like a small altar lower than the main one. This was because the Novena of Grace was on and they did not want to take up space from the people who would be attending. But it was a lovely homely way to have the coffin.

From 4.30 to 5.30 those who had come for the removal of the remains took part in prayers and hymns. Great singing and many prayers! Then they had to give way to the Novena of Grace, which lasted until about 7.45. From then until close to 10 o'clock there was a vigil and wake for Bob. Coffins here are made in such a way that there is a panel over the head and chest and this can be taken off so that mourners can view the body. So that panel was removed and those who wished could go up and kneel beside him, looking at him and, most of them, talking to him. He looked very peaceful. Mouth firmly closed. No sign of strain or trouble on his face. Eyebrows bushy, but not too much so! Looked very like Paddy and the Sheehys.

The vigil/wake was not tightly organised. There were hymns, some short prayers, and periodically somebody would go to the lectern and share some memories about Bob. I told them of his difficulty in deciding what he wanted to do and then his decision to join the Jesuits, Mammy's great fear that he would not manage the food, but his determination once he had “decided to follow Jesus that there would be no turning back”. I also spoke of how hard it was on him when Mammy died just before he got home for leave in 1972 and the way he cried the time of her burial in Durrow. Finally, I thanked the people on behalf of us all for taking him to their hearts and for being so kind and good and loving to him all through the years, and I mentioned how it was the wish of every one of us that he should remain in Zambia and be with his people until the end.

Among the others who spoke were the two recently ordained Zambian Jesuits who were with him at St. Ignatius'. Finding it very hard to keep the tears back, Father John Mwelwa (gentle John) spoke of the huge influence Bob had on him and prayed that he and all the young Jesuits in Zambia might inherit some share of his spirit. The other, Father Charles Chilinda (cheeky Charles!), who is Minister in the house and in charge of the daily running, spoke of Bob's beautiful obedience - he might refuse to eat if others asked him, but Charles had only to say the word and he would take his food.

One of the lay people who spoke recalled how Bob laid comforted his family when his wife died ten years ago. And he could give every word of what Bob said to them then. Others spoke of what his books meant to them and how they knew they would always hear his voice when they turned to their pages. Once again, it was remarkable how many young people there were who wanted to give testimony to their love for him and share their appreciation of his life.

In closing the vigil, Father Clive Dillon-Malone reminded people that Bob's favourite scriptural passage was the parable of the Prodigal Son and invited us all to keep always before our minds the image Bob loved so much, the Father with open arms welcoming his son, just as now he was welcoming Bob.

The funeral Mass was celebrated in St. Ignatius' Church on Friday 11th March. It began at 9 o'clock and ended at 11.15. After that, in keeping with Zambian customs, the coffin was wheeled to the door of the Church, and the panel over the head was opened, to allow for body-viewing. This lasted for about three-quarters of an hour, and then there was the funeral itself to the cemetery, about 12 miles away,

The church was chock full for the Mass. It's hard to know how many priests concelebrated, but there must have been something between 60 and 70. Many were Jesuits, but they came also from the archdiocese of Lusaka, from other dioceses, and from religious congregations across the country. There was a huge number of religious sisters and male religious, crowds of women of all ages, and many past pupils from Chikuni and Mazabuka. The retired Archbishop of Lusaka was present (the current AB had to attend the beginning of a Catholic University, but he spent an hour with the Provincial offering condolences and has asked if he can have a special Mass for Bob when he is free some day soon).

I said the Mass, and Father Joe Keaney gave the homily, an excerpt of which is given below. I will say nothing else about it here except that it was powerful and gripped the attention and approval of people the whole way through. I began by saying that it was hard that this was the third of us who had died in a matter of eight months and that I was the only one of Bob's family who could be here at this time. I explained that much as they would have wanted it, age and poor health made it impossible for Maureen, Oonagh or Joe to be with us, and that they were feeling this very hard but were making the full gift of Bob to his people in Zambia, just as they had always done. I recalled how Mammy used to say that even though she loved having us around, she was happy that we lived far from each other because that way we would always remain close friends. This got a good laugh, but it also gave me a chance to stress how close-knit we are as a family and how that was one of the values that inspired Bob in his work, even though this meant being away so much from those he loved. Then I thanked the people again for taking him to themselves and for allowing him to minister among them, and I expressed the thanks of all the family to the people of the parish, and to those who had helped Bob in his recent years.

Then I went on with the Mass. Not knowing that it was going to be sung, I asked everybody to stand up for the Gloria and to shout it out with arms held aloft, as Bob used do. This went all right, but then a few minutes later the choir started the singing of it and of course the whole church joined in very wholeheartedly, It nearly lifted the roof off!

The first reading was taken by Winnie Nkata, one of the parish office workers and one of Bob's staunchest supporters. It was she who typed up all the material for his last book (and possibly even earlier ones). The second reading was taken by a Jesuit novice who has just returned from speech therapy-prior to this he could not put two words together, so bad was his stammer. But not a sign of it on this occasion! Bob's friend, John Mwelwa (gentle John), read the Gospel. After the homily there were about eight Prayers of the Faithful, but I'm afraid that my memory of them is fuzzy, so I have to leave them there.

Before the Offertory prayers and hymn, I said a few words and explained what I was doing. I said I wanted to put into the coffin a few mementos of things that were important to Bob in his life, and I said a few words about each of these. First there was a small stand that used be on the altar to the Sacred Heart in Mammy and Daddy's bedroom in Tullamore: it had three small brass images on it, the Sacred Heart, Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, and St. Joseph. I said that Bob, like the rest of us, prayed before these as a child while at the same time he developed a strong faith from his great Catholic parents, and how it was his wish that Zambian parents would do as much for their children. Then I showed an old rosary beads of Bob's, well used and with some of the beads missing, a sign that he had used it a lot and of his love for the Mother of God. Next came a Pioneer Pin. Bob became a Pioneer in Tullamore long before he entered the Jesuits and was National Director of the Pioneers here for twenty years, so this was an important symbol of his life. Then I had a crucifix. Each Jesuit receives a crucifix when he takes his first vows. I said I couldn't find Bob's vow crucifix, he had so little left belonging to him that he had probably given it away. But I had my own and I said I was putting it in the coffin as a symbol of Bob's devotion to the Lord and of his commitment to the Jesuits. I also had a prayer leaflet that Joe got printed in 1963 when he was ordained, showing the names of Bob, Joe and myself, each of us ordained on 31st July, but in different years. I said this would be a nice reminder that his two Jesuit brothers were there with Bob all the way in solidarity and love. Next I had some of Bob's books. The first religious book he published was a hymn book, popularly known here as the Red Book; the last was Stories Old and New which was published in March last year. I read his prayer at the end of the Preface to this book: “I pray that this short book may encourage hope, faith and love in your hearts”, and invited the people to let his words become a reality in their lives. Finally I produced a rose. It was fairly bedraggled, but I explained that I had cut it in Luwisha House earlier that morning. But it was not an ordinary rose. Instead it was one that I grew on from a cutting that came from a beautiful yellow rose that is still growing in Maureen's garden. I told the people that Bob would say that if God can make a rose so wonderful, can we have any conception of what he must be like, and I also said that this rose was a symbol of the love of his sisters, what he meant to them, how much they loved him and how greatly they wished they could have been here today.

That probably took more time to read than it did when it took place on the altar! After that the Mass went ahead as usual. I think there were six of us giving out Communion for about a quarter of an hour, so that gives you some idea of the numbers who were there. Incidentally these included Pat Curran, the Irish Ambassador to Zambia, who stayed right to the very end, a great and generous tribute.

At the end of the Mass, the Provincial (Father Colm Brophy) thanked all those who were present and all the people associated with Bob throughout his life, but especially in the years since his health began to decline. The final prayers in the church (the Commendation) were led by Father Tom McGivern, a great old friend of Bob's. When these were concluded, the casket was wheeled to the door of the church for the body viewing. This ended at about midday or shortly afterwards (the service had begun at 9 o'clock). Because there were so many cars, the police had been asked to help direct the traffic and allow the funeral procession get under way. The burial took place in Kasisi, a Jesuit mission about 12 miles outside Lusaka (and this year celebrating its 100 years). All Jesuits who die in or near Lusaka are buried there, while those who die in the south of the country are buried in our cemetery in Chikuni. By the time the majority of the people arrived and the graveside service could get started it was nearly a quarter to one.

The prayers at the graveside were led by the Provincial, Colm Brophy, and he and I together blessed the grave. It was a massive one, about eight feet deep and ten feet long. Room for more than one there! After the prayers, the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground, while everybody kept silence. I was a bit surprised that the beautiful wreath of yellow and white roses and lilies that had been on the coffin since first I saw it on Thursday was left in place and buried. I wondered what would be left to place on the grave when it had been filled in, but I did not know then what was to follow. So the filling in of the grave then began. While the whole ceremony is very decorous and orderly, there is often some laughing and jesting at this part, with people telling the men to show their strength and not to be taking just the soft soil, and not to be putting it all into one place. Several times, new batches of men would take over the shovels, so that everyone could play a part. I took a shovel for a few minutes. I heard somebody behind me expressing misgivings, but then I heard one of the young Zambian Jesuits say "it's all right, he's a gardener!" It was indeed lovely to see these young priests themselves take the shovels, disregarding their shoes and clothes, and piling the earth in.

When the grave was nearly full, the women began singing quietly, and then when it was full and the mound built up to the men's satisfaction, the men drew back and gave way to the women. The women stood three deep all round and as they sang fell to their knees, patting the soil with their hands to flatten and smoothen it, all the time in rhythm with their singing. It was really a very moving to experience all this.

When the women had finished smoothing the soil, the Master of Ceremonies called for the laying of wreaths. The first was from the Jesuit Provincial, the second from myself. These were both huge wreaths, two interwoven large circles of cypress, with magnificent tropical flowers woven in and out. I am not sure, but they may both have been in the form of the letters B O B. Between them they covered the full length of the grave. Then followed wreaths from a number of others. After each one placed the wreath, they were given all the time they wanted for a quiet prayer. There were several hundred red and yellow roses, so after the few formal wreaths, all Jesuits were called. Each was given two or three roses (myself included) and we all stood around the grave, then all together stuck the roses in the soil or the wreaths, and then we stood up and sang in great voice the hymn of Saint Ignatius that Jesuits sing at the time of vows, Take Lord and Receive. This was very moving. After that it was the same with the staff from the Archbishop's office, religious sisters, religious men, the parish council from St. Ignatius', the Catholic Women's Leaguer, the Pioneers, the nurses and others who had helped Bob at Chula House and Saint Ignatius'. After they had placed their flowers or wreaths, each group would say its own prayers or sing its own hymn. Then lastly came myself, this time to place yellow roses on behalf of Maureen, more yellow roses on behalf of Oonagh, and red roses on behalf of Joe. We were all very much together at that lovely moment and all our Zambian friends appreciated it greatly.

People have told me that they never before participated in such a beautiful funeral. Fully Christian and truly Zambian. Fuil of sorrow at the going away of one loved and respected so much, but full of joy at the great accomplishment of a wonderful life and selfless service. And the bottom line of it all: God is love, so let God be God in your life, let love have its way with you always.

From the homily of Joe Keaney:
Most of you gathered here this morning knew Fr Robert Kelly personally. Many of you would say, “I knew him well”. I'm sure it comes as a big surprise when I tell you Bob suffered frequently from depression. I've often heard people say, “But priests shouldn't get depressed”. That's like saying a doctor shouldn't get cancer. Let me assure you some of them do, and share the same problems, diseases and darknesses as anyone else. It is important I tell a little about Bob's darkness if you are to understand the greatness of the man. The Jesuits who lived with him already know this very well.

I came to Zambia in 1973. Bob had been here 22 years by that time. In my early years here I didn't really know him but obviously was very aware of his reputation as an excellent teacher and influential Spiritual Father to successive generations of Zambian boys and girls in the 50's and '60's in Canisius, and with the Christian Brothers in St. Edmunds for most of the '70's.

Towards the end of 1988, when living in the small Jesuit community in Kitwe, we got the word that Bob was being sent to us. He was to help out in the various works of the house and continue his work as National Director of the Pioneer Total Abstinence Association. Being a great friend of Mr Mosi and Johnny Walker myself in those days I wasn't overjoyed at the prospect of such a renowned teetotaller in the community.

Very very soon after his arrival, maybe even that same day, Bob and myself had a long chat, for well over an hour, standing outside in the cool of the evening. A couple of years before, he had served briefly as Parish Priest of St Ignatius in Lusaka. It was an assignment that clearly didn't suit Bob - all the problems that go with adıninistration and having to mediate in the strains and tensions of parish life. Bob suffered quite a severe breakdown as a result and spent some time recovering from depression in Ireland. It was during that period of darkness that his first book was born.

He told me about his darkness that first evening in Kitwe. I had left Namwala in 1981. After some surgery I was physically well, but suffered chronic depression for about 18 months afterwards. I knew straight away the darkness Bob was describing. That common experience was the bond, the glue, the Tuff Stuff that formed the strong friendship between the two of us. Many observers would later look on ours as a father/son relationship but that wasn't really true. In Ireland there is a term for a relationship called Anam Cara, - soul friend. That more accurately describes what we meant to each other.

That same evening Bob told me something very profound about my recurring times of darkness. It's too long ago now to remember the exact words but it was something like this. Don't be afraid of the darkness. Resist it, yes, and fight it in so far as you can. But don't run too fast or too hard from it at any cost. Many Jesuits, he told me, live in a kind of natural light. They are very disciplined and ordered in their lives. They say their prayers, do their work and enjoy their leisure. They are healthy, well integrated men. Some of us, though, have to struggle in darkness. But it is the darkness itself that becomes the door for the power of the light and love of God to enter. It was many years later before I began to understand what he was talking about.

Soon though, I began to see Bob's greatness. He had no tolerance whatsoever for legalism, for pettiness, for narrow-minded people. On returning from his trips promoting devotion to the Sacred Heart and the Pioneers, he would often speak with real pain for, maybe, Mrs Mulenga in Mansa, a lifelong pioneer whose marriage failed, who remarried outside the Church, and the subsequent call from some fellow pioneers that she be stripped of her badge and expelled from the Association. Or maybe Mr Phiri in Lusaka being barred from holding high office at national level in the Association, because he worked as an accountant in National Breweries.

Very quickly the doorbell in Jesuit House began to ring. I had a room with a view upstairs and could see the visitors approach. All sorts of people, many from the old days in Canisius or St. Edmunds - like the grey Alex Chiteba or the balding Mark Chona down there on the left. It was so clear, just by observing, that they really loved him. There were also many young ladies. Beautiful young ladies, I might add. I'd rush down to greet these lovely flowers of God's creation only to climb straight back up again. It's for you Bob, again. These were girls from Roma, Chivuna, Fatima, Ndola, Ibenga,... from girls schools all over where Bob had such a powerful ministry giving retreats. I swear they were all in love with him. I used to scratch my head and wonder what all these people saw in this aging specimen of a man. His hair is falling out and he has these coke bottle spectacles. What has he got that I don't. I was even jealous. Not really, but you know what I mean.

The thing is, I'd rarely heard Bob preach. In Kitwe we all went different places for Mass, and I was rarely at a Mass that Bob was saying. Ten years ago, not too long after I'd been transferred to Lusaka, we invited Bob as director of the Novena of Grace, which is going on as we gather today. It was during that Novena of 1995 that my eyes were opened and I began to fully appreciate his greatness. For me, and I say this with great conviction, he was the most inspiring preacher I ever listened to. Soon afterwards he joined us here at St. Ignatius and I heard him very often. My room is just outside the side door there and I could hear his fine eloquent flow without even getting off the bed.

We chose the Story of the Prodigal Son as the gospel for this Mass because it was, without doubt, Bob's all time favourite. One of the first times I heard him preach on the parable he asked the question, “What comes right after the part where the Father sees the boy while he was still a long way off?” Hands went up and the popular answer was, “He ran to meet the boy”. Bob pointed out five important words in between: “He was moved with pity”. He was moved with pity. Moved with compassion. The heart of God the Father himself breaking at the sorry state of his poor ruined son.

If asked to put in a nutshell Bob's spirituality, I'd say it was contained in those five words: "He was moved with pity." Fr. Kelly experienced the gentleness of this compassion over and over again in his own darkness. The heart of tenderness dispelling the gloom in his own soul. The image of God's heart moved with pity for all His poor sons and daughters crippled by guilt, weighed down by troubles, stricken with depression, trapped and burdened by obsession and sin. You know what it feels like when you are deeply touched by the sadness in someone's life, when you really feel pity. It's like your heart is squeezed. Bob's God was a God of the heart not the head, a God whose heart is constantly squeezed as he looks down at us.

This was Bob's message, always variations on the same theme. The Father who created us to be joyful and happy is broken hearted at the sight of so many of his little children living in misery and darkness. It was the constancy and conviction of this recurring message that brought so much light and hope to us, his listeners. The God of the head is entirely different. Any suggestion that the Creator was aloof, a tough judge, a harsh punisher like with AIDS or the tsunami was blasphemy to his ears. He saw people preaching such a God as guilty of worshipping false images, guilty of idolatry....

I want to tell you about an elderly lady called Sarah in England who read one of his books several years ago. She loved it, got in touch with Bob and asked for more and more to distribute amongst her friends.... Since his recent strokes and diminished health, I've been keeping Sara informed. She is quite a lady. She raves about Bob's books and about the huge influence they are having in the ever widening circle she is giving them to. She told me that her project for Lent was to type out Be Still and know and put it on the Internet. She has already another of his books completed and up there.

..... The last attack about 6 months ago left Bob totally helpless and with hardly any awareness or capacity for friendship. At the time of that stroke John Chula house, the retirement home, was under reconstruction. The good Fr. Klaus was away and we had to mind Bob right here. People often said to me, “You are so good and kind to Bob”. I didn't feel that way. Some days I found it very hard just to sit with him. I simply hated seeing him in that dehumanised state and some days wanted to slap his face, shake him and say, “Come on Bob. Fight this, Come back to us”. I'm the youngest of the Irish Jesuits left in Zambia and in my days of darkness I sometimes wonder if I will be able to stay, grow old and die here. Will there be anyone left to love me or care? That was another of the great signs. I witnessed such kindness for Bob given by Fr. Mwelwa and Fr. Chilinda. They sat with him for hours, holding his hand, feeding him, cleaning up after him. All this from two men who never really knew him in his prime. When I think of such love from the young generation of Jesuits now taking over from the old I am consoled. I know now that if I have the companionship of Jesuit brothers like Gentle John and Cheeky Chilinda in my old age I will be truly blessed. I know that the Jesuit Province of Zambia/Malawi will be ok.

I was brought up thinking that holiness was to do with the number of hours one spent in front of the Blessed Sacrament, or how hard ones knees got from praying. Now I think it is much more to do with compassion. Having sympathy and empathy. Feeling for and feeling with. Be holy, as your Father is holy. Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Bob was that kind of holy man. All the destruction of the past year has been made new. He is enjoying the embrace of His loving Father whose heart has been moved with pity for Bob's plight all this time.

Born: 08 November 1889, Charleville Parade, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1909, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1922, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1968, St Francis Xavier, Gardiner Street, Dublin
Died: 17 March 1973, Our Lady’s Hospice, Dublin

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

Father was a solicitor and died in 1899. Family then moved to Dublin. Mother now resides at Brookfield Terrace, Blackrock, Dublin

Second eldest of three - 2 sisters.

Early education at a convent school in Dublin, then went to Dominican Convent Wicklow for two years and then at Clongowes Wood College SJ. Left CWC in 1906 for a year to go to the South of France for his health

Nephew of Timothy Kenny - RIP 1917 and Peter Kenny - RIP 1912

by 1913 at Stonyhurst, England (ANG) studying
by 1924 at Hastings, Sussex, England (LUGD) studying

Born: 10 August 1851, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 29 September 1869, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 1884 Leuven, Belgium
Final Vows 02 February 1889, Coláiste Iognáid SJ, Galway
Died: 19 July 1912, Ms Quinn’s Hospital, Dublin

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

Younger Brother Timothy was Provincial - RIP 1917; Uncle of Paddy Kenny - RIP 1973

Early education and St Finian’s, Navan and UCD

by 1872 at Roehampton London (ANG) Studying
by 1873 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) studying
by 1874 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1875 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1882 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1888 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
He was of a very old Catholic family in Tullamore. His older brother Timothy had been Provincial - RIP 1917

After First Vows He taught at Clongowes, and also studied Philosophy and Theology at Louvain, where he was Ordained.
After Teritianship he was sent to Galway, where he showed great talents as a Preacher.
1894 He was sent to Gardiner St.
1903 He returned to Galway as Operarius. He was soon in failing health and died there 10 July 1912 having been removed to Ms Quinn’s Hospital, Mountjoy Square beforehand.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Commnnity

Father Peter Kenny (1851-1912)

Brother of a former Provincial, Father Timothy Kenny, was born near Tullamore and entered the Society in 1872. Shortly after his ordination, Father Kenny was appointed to the Crescent but remained here only two years, 1885-87. With the exception of eight years, 1894-1902, the remainder of his religious life was spent at St Ignatius, Galway. He died in Dublin after a brief illness.

Born: 01 February 1843, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 08 January 1872, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: - pre Entry
Final vows: 15 August 1883
Died: 04 August 1917, St Ignatius, Richmond, Melbourne, Australia

Older Brother of Peter - RIP 1912; Uncle of Paddy Kenny - RIP 1973

Father Provincial of the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus: 3 February 1888-2 December 1894
Superior of the Irish Jesuit Mission to Australia Mission: 1 February 1895-11 February 1901

by 1875 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
He was of a very old Catholic family in Tullamore. His older brother of Peter - RIP 1912

He spent some years studying at Louvain where he passed ad gradum.
When he came back to Ireland he was sent to Galway, and he worked hard in both the School and Church for many years.
1882 He was appointed Rector at Galway, a position he held until he was appointed Provincial by the then Visitor, Robert Fulton (MARNEB) in 1888.
1888 Provincial. He held this post for six years, and during that time he was sent as Visitor to Australia. He was a most successful administrator.
1894 He was sent to Australia. By 07 February 1895 he had been appointed Mission Superior there. He did this for six years as well.
1901 He was appointed Minister at the Sydney College.
1903 He was appointed Rector at St Patrick’s Melbourne, and he remained in this place until 1916.
His last two years were spent at Richmond, and he died there 04 August 1917. He had helped posts of one kind of Superior or another for almost 32 years.

Note from Morgan O’Brien Entry :
1889 In the Autumn of 1889 he accompanied Timothy Kenny and Thomas Browne and some others to Australia

Note from John Murphy Entry :
During his final illness he was well cared for in the community. His needs were attended to by Timothy J Kenny the Superior and George Kelly.

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Timothy Kenny was educated by the Vincentian Fathers at Castleknock, Dublin, and studied for the priesthood at Clonliffe and at Maynooth. After ordination, he worked in the town of Maynooth, and then entered the Jesuit noviciate in Ireland, 8 January 1872, at the age of 29. He revised his theology at Louvain, 1874-75, and taught at Galway, 1875-88, becoming its rector in 1882; he was also prefect of studies. It was here that he became a friend with the bishop of Galway, Dr Carr, who was later archbishop of Melbourne.
His energy and administrative skills were recognised, and he was appointed Provincial of the Irish province until 1894. He visited both the Austrian and Irish missions in Australia in 1889, with a view to negotiate a union. Far from deserving credit for the amalgamation, he dithered over it until the Austrians were out of patience.
Sent to Australia in 1894, Kenny was mission superior until 1901. He resided at North Sydney. After a few years as minister at Riverview, he was appointed rector of St Patrick's College, 1903-16. During that time his letters expressed much concern about the future of the college. He was a tired man, and the many problems of the college added to his depression. During his term of office, compulsory military training was introduced. Former students believed that the discipline learnt during cadet training raised their morale and improved their attitude towards one another.
He spent his last few years doing parish work at St Ignatius', Richmond.
Kenny was a man of many gifts, pious, full of zeal, and prudent, even too prudent, but kind and generous to the individual. He seemed to be a man of nervous temperament and lacking in self-confidence - the kind of Superior who is kept in office because he can be relied on not to give trouble. He spent half his Jesuit life in Australia. He brought to the problems of his age a mind attuned to the previous century, fighting against the perceived evils of his day, especially the abuse of the virtue of purity.

Note from Patrick Keating Entry
The Irish provincial, Timothy Kenny, while visiting Australia in 1890 believed Keating to be “the most admirable man I ever met”. That being the opinion that counted, Keating became the next Irish provincial

Born: 29 July 1931, Convent Road, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 07 September 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1964, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1967, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 09 January 1998, Chikuni, Zambia - Zambia-Malawi province (ZAM)

Part of the St Ignatius, Lusaka, Zambia community at the time of death

Transcribed HIB to ZAM : 02 February 1967

Son of Mr Frank Lane Mrs Lane of Tullamore. Father was a commercial traveller.

Younger of two boys with two sisters.

Early education was with the Christian Brothers in Tullamore for nine years. He then went to UCD studying engineering for a year before entry.

by 1959 at Chivuna, Monze, N Rhodesia - studying language Regency

◆ Companions in Mission 1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Not long before Fr Bill Lane died, he was chatting with Fr Bob Kelly at St lgnatius, Lusaka. A young lady whom they both knew had died in a very sudden manner at U.T.H. Fr Bill remarked, ‘You know, Bob, that's the way I'd like to go, quickly and without fuss’. And that is the way it happened. On Friday, 9 January 1998, Bill was on his way to Chilalantambo with Fr Jim Carroll to give some Scripture talks to the parishioners. As they drove on that bumpy road, Bill suddenly stopped talking. Fr Jim was shocked to find that Bill was dead beside him. There seems to have been no intervening period of sickness or pain. His departure was, as he had wished, ‘quickly and without fuss’.

Bill was born in Tullamore, Co Offaly, Ireland in 1931. After school with the Christian Brothers, he went to Dublin University to study engineering for a year. At the end of that year he joined the Society in 1950. For his regency he was sent to Zambia and taught at Canisius for a year as well as learning ciTonga. After the usual course of studies, he was ordained priest in 1964 at Milltown Park, Dublin.

Returning to Zambia he worked in the Kasiya parish, then Mukasa Minor Seminary at Choma. From 1969 to 1973, he was education secretary in the diocese of Monze, responsible for a network of 80 primary schools. His organizing and administrative talents were recognized at this time. He was the last expatriate Education Secretary in the Monze diocese as the primary schools were handed back to Government.

Bill was moved to the Archdiocese of Lusaka. The late Fr Dominic Nchete asked, ‘Why are they moving our best men away from the diocese? Fr Lane knows how to work with our people’. He was asked to become secretary for communications (1978-85). He combined the job with the office of province bursar (1982-88). From 1990 until his untimely death, Bill worked for the Zambia Episcopal Conference first as secretary for catechetics and then as coordinator of the Bible apostolate.

Publishing was big in his life during all these years, to help people come to grips with Sacred Scripture, with methods of prayer and with the history of the Church in Zambia. His writing was clear and concise and very practical in the many booklets he produced. All Bill's activities were carried out with wit and good humour which made him a popular member of any group he was in. He could also be a devastating critic when aroused by what he considered hypocrisy. Bill considered himself to be politically incorrect in that he expressed his views honestly, rather than resort to making the right noises in the right places and he was aware that this did not enhance his chances for advancement through the hierarchy of the Society. In fact he never was a superior.

The number of people whose lives he touched was great indeed. He had a rare gift for reaching out to those whom others might have considered black sheep. His sensitivity to those who were ill at one time or another was another remarkable facet of his life. Bill was a gifted person who gave generously of his time and talents to the Church and people of Zambia for the forty years he worked in the country.

Throughout his years in Zambia, he preached and directed numerous retreats as well as helping at Kalundu Study Centre and in the Major Seminary. In his busy career he was always willing to help out in the parish, supplying Masses and other church services when needed. He was a good confessor and a no nonsense preacher.

Note from Fred Moriarty Entry
Fr Fred was a radio program coordinator. He recorded many programs in ciTonga and English for ZNBC. He coordinated with Fr Bill Lane and Fr Max Prokoph in this area.

Born: 17 April 1923, Killeigh, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 20 November 1944, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1955, Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 06 April 2000, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin - Zambia-Malawi Province (ZAM)

Part of the Canisius College, Chikuni, Zambia community at the time of death

Transcribed HIB to ZAM : 03 December 1969

by 1953 at Chikuni, Chisekesi, N Rhodesia (POL Mi) working - fifth wave of Zambian Missioners

◆ Companions in Mission1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Early in his stay at Chikuni, one evening a worker came to Br Pat to report that a snake had fallen into the well, the source of the people's drinking water. ‘If it dies, no one will ever drink from the well again’ he was told. What to do? Br Pat was nothing if not inventive. Into the 30 foot well he lowered a bag of hay knowing that snakes liked to rest or hide under sacking or straw. Next morning at 04.00 hours, Br Pat was awakened by the worker who said, ‘We have killed the snake after hauling up the hay with the snake inside’. Br Pat writing about this incident years later wrote, ‘I suppose it's in overcoming challenges that we grow in joy, in closeness to our Creator, and in a knowledge of who we are and how closely we work with Him’. Br Pat was a deeply spiritual man and all his working life was a challenge to him.

He was born on 17 April 1923 in Killeigh, Co Offaly, Ireland, into a farming family. After school he went to the Tullamore Vocational School for Trades Training (carpentry and building) and further academic subjects. He looked upon his early life as ‘a good Catholic religious upbringing’. He came to the Society in 1944 to Emo where he stayed even after his vows working on the farm, eight years in all.

He came to Northern Rhodesia in 1952 and took charge of the Chikuni farm for six years. For the construction of the Teachers Training College Charles Lwanga across the river from Chikuni, Br Pat was the obvious man for the building together with Fr McCarron just out from Ireland. During the following eight years, 1964 to 1972, he was on the move around the diocese building churches, schools, teachers' houses and catechists' houses. He spent three years promoting agriculture around Chikuni, went to Kasisi outside Lusaka as farm manager for three years and returned again to Chikuni as farm manager for eleven years. He did a few years' stint at Namwala doing maintenance and pastoral work and then back to Chikuni, also on maintenance and assisting in the parish. His health began to trouble him which took him to Ireland. In 1999 he was back in Zambia and was operated on but this did not cure the trouble. In great pain he asked to be brought to Ireland where he died on 6 April 2000.

In all this tremendous work that he did, he never forgot that he was working for God, as he once told a contractor with whom he was working when they had a difference of opinion. He prayed for the people he worked with, took a great interest in his workers and their families. He fed the hungry in famine times, visited the sick, presided at communion services, attended Charismatic prayer groups and generally encouraged people everywhere he went. He was never short of a word of advice or a prayer of encouragement.

On a short curriculum vitae sheet which the Jesuits fill in for the archives, one of the items on the sheet reads ‘Other activities, apostolic interests, hobbies, publications etc.’ Br Pat had, with an arrow pointing to 'hobbies' written, ‘get on with the job’. That, in some ways sums up Br Pat's life. He was practical, spiritual, helpful and kind. Ever busy himself, he was always ready to help others. He was well known around the Chikuni area as one to whom people would go when in trouble, knowing that they would get a listening ear. This, the local farmers knew. He was a farmer like themselves and his advice was readily sought.

The people were sad that Br Pat had died abroad. They would have liked to have his body brought back for full traditional burial rites, such was the esteem and love which they had for him. But as the Tonga proverb has it. ‘They say goodbye, they say goodbye but they leave their names behind’.

Note from Arthur J Clarke Entry
During his six years as rector, he was blessed with such outstanding heads of Canisius as Dick Cremins and Michael J Kelly. Arthur's vision for Canisius as a leading secondary school was influenced by his experience of Clongowes Wood College in Ireland. First, he wanted a proper house for the community. Though the actual building was the responsibility of Fr McCarron and Br Pat McElduff, the siting and design of the spacious community house are largely Arthur’s.

Note from Seán McCarron Entry
He was posted to Zambia (then Northern Rhodesia) for the express purpose of building and setting up Charles Lwanga Teacher Training College. His right hand man was Br Pat McElduff.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Carpenter before entry

Born: 24 October 1835, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 18 January 1857, Hodder, England - Angliae Province (ANG)
Ordained: 1868
Final vows: 02 February 1874
Died: 13 February 1925, Roehampton, London, England - Angliae Province (ANG)

Born: 15 July 1921, Ballyorgan, Kilfinane, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1940, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1956, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1959, St Stanislaus College Tullabeg, County Offaly
Died 26 December 1971, Tullamore County Hospital, Tullamore, County Offaly

Part of the St Stanislaus College Tullabeg, County Offaly community at the time of death

Parents were farmers and father died in 1939.

Younger of two boys with two sisters.

Educated at a local National School for none years, at age fifteen he went to Mungret College SJ

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 47th Year No 2 1972

Obituary :

Fr John F O’Connor SJ (1921-1971)

It is hard to imagine that Fr. John O'Connor was a good athlete as a schoolboy. Those who remember him at Mungret where he spent four years, 1936 to 1940, will recall his display at football and hurling. He was born outside Kilfinnane, Co. Limerick, and though he seldom spoke about his family and home he had a deep attachment to both. Indeed in recent months his only worry about a possible cure for his arthritis at Phoenix, Arizona, was the separation from his 85-year-old mother. As he spent five years in a Sanatorium with TB after his second year philosophy it is difficult to judge his ability at his studies as a young Jesuit. There is no doubt about that ability however. Though not unduly argumentative he could follow and contribute to a good discussion on moral problems with avid interest. His reading was wide and embraced even novels which were selected with care and a critical eye. Fr John was blessed with a retentive memory,
Most of his studies as a scholastic were absolved as an invalid, but once he got the work at the Rathfarnham Castle retreat house as a priest, he really enjoyed himself. He had a strong love of the Society and could be considered a good Community man. He was certainly a fine priest and a good Jesuit. Good company was a joy to him and he was lucky with his friends in the Province to whom he was forever loyal.
As Bursar in Tullabeg again he found the work that suited him. He proved an excellent economist, methodical in his book-keeping and shrewd in his turn for business. Now he had the opportunity of doing priestly work in his own quiet way, without fanfare or trumpets. He was an excellent confessor, balanced, with sound judgment; liked by the Sisters of the seven convents he visited regularly; liked in the public church. That rare gift of objectivity he had in abundance. Some said he was occasionally negative in his approach to things. This might be true but who has not his reserves?
His unobtrusive dry sense of humour was a great blessing, because he actually kept going to the end when 98% would have thrown in the towel. He was rarely at a loss for a witty repartee, savoured on occasions with a little salt which his equable temperament saved from being resented. His sense of duty was heroic, accepting as he did the hard slogging up and down three flights of stairs so often entailed by calls to the parlour in consultations or to the church for confessions; again trying to open week-end offering envelopes was a penance with fingers stiff and unflexible.
Never one to complain about ill-health and the Lord knows there was plenty to grumble about--one lung, one kidney and a sure but certain deterioration in the arthritis, Fr O'Connor did suffer but even when asked about his health the subject was quietly changed. The last years at Tullabeg were placid and suited him. His memories of his days at Rathfarnham Castle retreat house were pleasant and the doings of the lay helpers and their families were a perpetual interest to him. Yes, he was curious but once the curiosity was satisfied he was content. It was a small weakness. Whoever sent him to Rome, after his kidney operation, with the Retreat House pilgrimage did a good day's work. That trip was an endless thrill and tiny events were often spoken of with a chuckle. Likewise his villas at Enniscrone were a great enjoyment as were the eight summers on supply at Littlehampton in Southern England.
The two and a half days at Tullamore County Hospital prior to his death were very typical of the man. Methodical as ever, everything was in order. All at Tullabeg could see that he was suffering for the five weeks before the end but little did they suspect it was active TB in the one lung that was at the root of the trouble.
He will be missed by the Tullabeg Community. We were glad of the ten years or so he was with us, of his indomitable courage, his unobtrusive co-operation. To die at fifty years of age is young in Jesuit eyes, but to live as he did and to die as he died around midnight on Christmas night was a lesson to us and we are grateful.

Born: 27 October 1780, Tullamore, County Offaly
Entered: 13 November 1813 - Missouriana Province (MIS)
Final vows: 02 February 1826
Died: 07 January 1862, St Louis, Missouri, USA - Missouriana Province (MIS)