Funeral of Fr. John O'Brien SCA

 Homily: A HOLY AND SACRED SPACE

St. John at the end of his Gospel says of the life of Jesus, “I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written” about Him. Something similar, though not on the same level, can be said about the life of John O’Brien. Every thought, every memory that could be remembered about him and our life with him – the whole world would not contain them. There is so much to be said and yet he himself said in the days before he died, “say as little as possible.” But in this I cannot obey him because there is so much stirring in my heart, so much stirring in all of us, especially at the suddenness of his passing, that it must be spoken.

I’m very grateful that I had time with him in hospital at the end, that he, Tom Daly and I were together there for a couple of days, that Tom was with him when he died. I thank God that John and I had a brief opportunity to say what we needed to say to each other, to speak of how important we were in each other’s life. That didn’t come easy to John but when he had said it, he nodded his head and said, “there, I’ve said it.” And that was that!

The second reading from the first letter of St. John speaks of, “Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard and seen with our own eyes, that we have watched and touched with our hands, the Word who is life – this is our subject.” (1 John 1:1-2) – John and I read that reading the day before he became unconscious, a reading that sums up John’s life as a priest. Jesus Christ became a living reality for John, the experience of God in his life was so close, so strong within him that it was as if he had touched God Himself, that he had heard God, that he had felt the presence of God in a very, very real way.

One of the things I found great about John was that he was a deeply, deeply spiritual man, a very prayerful man but without “piosity”, never a “holier than thou” person because he was too real to be such a person. He was direct. He was direct with us and he was direct with God in the way that he related to God, in the way that he prayed. It was real, direct and honest. One of the lovely things about his and my life together is that, when we went away on holidays, our time would have the elements of faith, fun and friendship. One never excluded the other.  The joy of life, of ordinary human living, is very much part of the journey of faith. Dingle is the place that stands out most for me. After our long walk we would find a church where we would pray for half an hour, a half hour that was timed by John’s watch. We teased him about this, his need to time everything from his coffee in the morning to his times of prayer. After prayer we would meet our friends in a restaurant, in the pub or in their home.

To watch John in prayer was quite something. His prayer was intent and intense. The chairman of the parish council in Barking, Terry McMahon, has written, “to watch John in prayer was something to behold because you not only saw John in prayer but were drawn into this dialogue, this conversation with God – the God of mercy and compassion.”

Back in the mid 1970’s there was a book by the famous Jesuit John Powell called, “He Touched Me”. John and I shared that book and it expressed what happened to him, to both of us in prayer and in life.  If the second reading speaks about how we touch God in Jesus, how John touched God – that only happened because God touched him first. Touched him and marked him.

When I look back on our youth in Thurles, I see how carefree and happy we were, how we laughed and sang – memories of us doing the washup in the kitchen, singing as we did it. But as life develops, you go from the carefree years of youth to the experience of being marked by life, marked by sorrow and suffering, marked by the sign of the Cross. John wasn’t spared these and I often think that he was deeply marked by the death of his Mother at such a young age while he was still a young priest. Something in him changed from then on. He became more serious. But this also opened up in him a great empathy for the sufferings of others and it drew him to pray with people in their sufferings, praying to the extent that he would cry, so deep was his empathy.

Many people know the touch of his hands. He had healing hands so that when he touched people’s lives in prayer, those lives were changed, transformed and healed. But he never set himself up as a healer - though he would have liked to heal the whole world – never promoted himself in that kind of way but he was an instrument of God’s healing.

Two people from our time in formation come to mind – Fathers Pat Dwyer and James Ryan. Our spiritual awakening happened under the guidance of Father Pat Dwyer who was our Rector and Novice Master who greatly admired the spirit that was in John, once describing him as “shot through with the Holy Spirit.” The Holy Spirit permeated everything John was. Pat shaped us and taught us how to love the Scriptures and how to pray well. Apart from Pat Dwyer I have never seen anyone to pray like John. James Ryan taught Scripture in St. Patrick’s College and he once said that in all his years of teaching he never had another student to equal John O’Brien. A reminder of how bright and intelligent John was, though he never made a show of it.

Finally, I would like to say that what is most fundamental in the shaping of a priest is his family. The life created by his parents Lizzy and Tom, the life lived together with his sisters and brother in St. Joseph’s Square – that’s where John was essentially formed, where he received the humanity that is in him. We know as priests that we are nothing without our families and even though we are sent away and separated from our families, we are always tied to family by flesh and blood. Flesh and blood are very powerful. This is true also of what John received from the next generation of his nephews and nieces who were always part of John’s conversations with me. They allowed him to be himself, gave him space to be real, a safe space for his humanity to flourish. Family in the life of a priest is a holy and a sacred space, even in its imperfections.

In the gospel Jesus has said, “I am going now to prepare a place for you and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I will return to take you to be with me so that you also may be with me where I am.” There is the ultimate place of John’s belonging and, though we are so sad, heartbroken to see him go, it is his place and his time. May his good and strong soul rest in peace.