Introduction:

It’s August 14^th – the Memorial of St. Maximilian Kolbe – priest and martyr. We know his story well. A Conventual Franciscan Friar who worked in the apostolate of the press in Poland and Japan, and died in Auschwitz.

Last year, during the Youth 2000 Summer Festival, I celebrated with you the Memorial of Edith Stein. Another one of our saints whose story came to prominence in the same concentration camp. Edith or St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross as she is known now, died on August 9^th, 1942. Maximilian Kolbe died a year earlier on August 14^th, 1941.

‘Died’ isn’t the correct word for it; historians estimate 1.1M perished in Auschwitz over its five years of existence.

The prophet Ezekiel exhorts us to live life to the full. Israel is described as an unfaithful wife. He pardons her because of the covenant he had made with her. And so we pray for God’s love and mercy as we call to mind all that impedes our relationship with God, with one another and with self …  

• Is tusa Tobar na Trócaire – you are the wellspring of mercy:

A Thiarna, déan trócaire 

• Is tusa Slí na Fírinne – you are the way of Truth: 

A Chríost, déan trócaire

• Bí linn i gcónaí, ós ár gcomhair amach – be with us always, showing us the way.

A Thiarna, déan Trócaire

Homily:

It is said he was Prisoner #16670. It was believed that by giving someone a number dehumanises them, and that’s why the numbering system in Auschwitz, Birkenau and elsewhere was so cold and calculating. We know Prisoner #16670 best as St. Maximilian Kolbe. Pope John Paul II said “Maximilian did not die but gave his life … for his brother”.

Maximilian Kolbe’s life was marked by an ardent devotion to Our Lady from a young age. It is said that he did something to bother his mam as a young ten year old, she told him to go and pray, asking what will become of him. He turned to Our Lady. She came to him in his prayer offering him two crowns, a white one and a red one. The former representing a life of purity; the latter representing martyrdom. He accepted both.

What happened in Auschwitz didn’t come out of thin air; Kolbe lived a pure life. Everything he did, led to those actions, known now the world over. His story of heroism, courage and self-sacrifice didn’t begin the day he volunteered to die in place of a stranger at Auschwitz. The prisoner he saved Franciszek Gajowniczek, a husband and a dad would years later attend his beatification and canonisation ceremonies. For Maximilian Kolbe it was the ultimate sacrifice he made, giving up his own life to save a man who had a wife and children. 

Three words jump out for me in the story of Maximilian Kolbe, from today’s scripture readings fusing on both the Prophet Ezekial and St. Matthew, promise, sacrifice and generosity. Friday at Youth 2000 Festivals is always ‘confession night’. An opportunity to be reconciled with God, with one another and with self. Are you good at keeping a promise? When did you last make a sacrifice? When did you miss an opportunity for generosity?

It is said that a promise is easy to make when the sun is shining, their true worth begins when the storms begin. Ezekiel has God speaking to Jerusalem as a bridegroom speaks to his bride. It’s not an easy reading, because Israel has been unfaithful, Isreal has failed to keep its side of the covenant. But God never forgets us, he has carved us on the palm of his hand, he always invites the sinner home.

In Matthew’s gospel we move to a debate around marriage and divorce, again not of itself bedside light reading. This is a tough message. The Pharisees are setting a trap, as someone wrote “they come to the wedding feast carrying a legal measuring tape!” Every time Jesus brings them back to the start, to the beginning, what marriage is, not what divorce disrupts. Marriage is, like the wedding I celebrated recently for my nephew Brendan and his wife now Eimear, marriage is a covenant, a promise before God. As Robert Frosts poem says “promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep”, tell the priest tonight about your broken promises.

And then comes Prisoner #16670 into the frame. Maximilian Kolbe wasn’t chosen by the German officer Karl Fritsch as one of the ten who must be starved to death because a man had escaped the camp. Franciszek Gajowniczek cried out because he had a wife and children; Maximilian broke ranks and put himself forward: “I am a Catholic priest. I want to die for that man; I am old; he has a wife and children”. He went to the dark cellar and sang hymns to Our Lady. Two weeks of starvation didn’t kill him, it was a fatal dose of phenol on this day, 85 years ago. Maximilian sacrificed himself for another. What is your understanding of sacrifice? The sacrifice of the Mass, the life, death and resurrection of Christ. As a young person is Mass a central part of my life?  

Generosity. Maximilian Kolbe had nothing to gain by stepping forward. It was the ultimate act of generosity. Maximilian didn’t begin his act of generosity on the day he entered the bunker. He practiced it from his youngest years – living love through prayer, purity, obedience, being a good priest and having a deep devotion to Our Lady. A tree does not become strong on the day of the storm, it becomes strong through years of putting down roots. It’s no wonder St. John Paul II proclaimed Maximilan Kolbe patron of the “suffering”. All of us suffer – confession, reconciliation, penance – is a wonderful tool to free us from that suffering.

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Introduction:

We gather on August 11^th, the Feast of St. Clare. Her feast is determined, like many of our saints feasts, by the date of their death – in her case it was August 11^th. But this year we also honour the eighth centenary of the death of St. Francis.

We gather in St. Clare’s Church, Graiguecullen once again in celebration of St. Clare and St. Francis and indeed in celebration of the Poor Clare’s presence among us here in Carlow for the past 133 years. The Rule of their Order was only confirmed by Papal Bull, the day before St. Clare’s death. The Poor Clare’s, by their life and example witness to us the face of God.

We seek His face. We ring their bell. We knock on their door. We write out our petitions. Let’s for a moment recollect ourselves as we call to mind our woundedness and brokenness in His presence as we pray…

• Is tusa Tobar na Trócaire – you are the wellspring of mercy:

A Thiarna, déan trócaire 

• Is tusa Slí na Fírinne – you are the way of Truth: 

A Chríost, déan trócaire

• Bí linn i gconaí, ós ár gcomhair amach – be with us always, showing us the way.                                                                      A Thiarna, déan Trócaire

Homily:

I have celebrated a lot of weddings in my life. There is nothing I enjoy more than sacramental moments with family and friends. Indeed Saturday last I baptised my four month old grandniece, Isla Kate, a daughter to my nephew Leo and his wife Shauna.

In all the weddings I’ve celebrated over the past 39 years, including my earlier year as a deacon, the gospel from Matthew that relays ‘the parable of the ten wedding attendants’ has never been used by a couple. Today we use this text from St. Matthew to honour the Poor Clare’s and to celebrate the Feast of St. Clare.

It speaks a language that always grates a little with me, words like “foolish”[1]; “drowsy”[2]; phrases like “the door was closed”[3] and “I do not know you”[4]. The Strait of Hormuz reminds us of our global dependency on oil. One fifth of the world’s oil supply passes through the Strait.

And here we have a parable presented to us of five foolish and five wise girls. The foolish ones took lamps but no oil; the wise brought flasks of oil along with lamps. Again I’ll remind you ‘foolish’ is a judgemental word and one which shouldn’t be in anyone’s vocabulary. What seems absent for me is the generosity that comes with having flasks of oil. There is a world of difference between “there may not be enough for us and for you …”[5] and ‘there is not enough …”. Five loaves and two fish fed thousands, it wasn’t in Jesus’ vocabulary to say “there may not be enough”[6]. 

The Feast of St. Clare celebrates generosity, the generosity of an 18 year old in 1212 who belonged to the noblest family, leaving everything behind her, making her way to Assisi to find Francis. He had made a similar journey, the same sacrifice, seven years earlier.

Clare could have chosen fine clothing, comfort, a socially acceptable marriage; instead she heard Francis preach about Christ, about the poor, about distain for riches. That word entered her heart, and she acted upon it.

We are told it was Palm Sunday in 1212 when Clare walked out on her family and found her way to the Portiuncula. Before the altar of the Blessed Virgin, she laid aside her rich, lavish clothing, to wear the clothes of Christ. As St. Paul says Clare “put on Christ”[7]. She became little before God. Her poverty was not misery, but it freed her. Her hands, empty of riches, now allowed her entirely to hold onto Christ.

Francis had done this some years earlier. In the Portiuncula Clare was freed  of her riches and veiled for Christ. Fourteen years later in 1226 Francis sensing his imminent death, asked the brothers to carry to the Portiuncula, the same chapel were Clare was veiled. It was there he would breathe his last on October 4^th.

It was in the Portiuncula that Francis first heard the instruction: “Francis, go repair my church, which, as you see, is falling into ruin”, at first believing it was the one in Assisi, but in fact it was the Church, universal. It still needs repairing, there will always be work to be done. This year we honour the eighth centenary of Francis’ death, we are very aware that while he has died, his poetry, his song, his example, like Clare’s remains.

The Poor Clare’s here in Carlow, as we fondly remember Sr. Therese who died exactly a month ago on July 11^th, the Poor Clare’s continue the song of St. Clare and the poetry of St. Francis. Without Francis, there wouldn’t have been Clare. The man in the rough, tattered habit, the man who wore a knotted rope for a belt, changed Clare’s way of looking at everything and forever altered the direction of her life.

Was she foolish? Her family thought so, and like Francis’ tried to drag her back home to see reality. Was she wise? Well eight centuries later we are still talking about her. The oil in her lamp continues to reflect the face of Christ. She has entered the wedding feast. We see the same reflective love in the face of the Poor Clare’s, let’s also find it in one another.

[1] Mt.25:2

[2] Mt.25:4

[3] Mt.25:10

[4] Mt.25:12

[5] Mt.25:9

[6] ibid

[7] Rm.13:14

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With a big reduction in the number of priests available this year, I am reminded of just how much each priest gives of himself when appointed to a parish. This is never taken for granted and we should always be thankful for their work and ministry. 

Clergy who are moving and those who are taking on more, have my deepest respect and support. Going forward parishes will undoubtably be without a resident priest and so with fewer clergy it is more important than ever to pray for our priests and to encourage vocations.

I am in contact with a number of international priests who hopefully will be in a position to take up appointments in the diocese over the coming months.

I ask you to keep all our priests and deacons in your prayers, to help them and to support them at this important time in our diocese. The changes come into effect on Friday 18^th September next.

Fr. Tom Dooley, PP Portarlington & Emo to retire.

Fr. Yanbo Chen, SVD CC, The Cathedral Parish, recalled by the SVD Order.

Fr. Theodore Tomasik, SVD CC, The Cathedral Parish, recalled by the SVD Order.

Fr. Erik Ebot, SVD CC, Portlaoise, recalled by the SVD Order.

Fr. Eugen Dragas Tamas, CC, Portarlington & Emo returning to Iasi Diocese in Romania.

Fr. Ciprian Matei, CC, Portlaoise returning to Bucharest Archdiocese in Romania.

Fr. Joe O’Neill, PP, Kill to take sabbatical leave.

Fr. David Vard PP Stradbally taking personal leave of absence with my full support.

Fr. Pat Hughes, PP, Myshall & Clonegal, to become PP, Portarlington & Emo.

Fr. Andy Leahy, CC, Myshall & Clonegal, to become PP Myshall & Clonegal while continuing to reside in St. Patrick’s Missionary Society, Kiltegan.

Fr. Yohan Fernando, CC, Naas, Sallins and Two-Mile-House, to become Adm., Kill while remaining part of the team in Naas, Sallins and Two-Mile-House Pastoral Area.

Fr. Piotr Jakubiak, Polish Chaplain, to become CC in the Portarlington  Mountmellick Pastoral Area, while continuing to support the Polish community.

Fr. Petru Medves, CC, Abbeyleix, Ballinakill & Raheen, to become also CC, Portlaoise. The three curates in Portlaoise (Fr. Adriano de Oliveira, Fr. Simon Jin and Fr. Petru Medves) will assist in ministry in the wider Pastoral Area.

As previously announced (which came into effect on 1^st August):

Fr. Sean Maher, PP Balyna,  appointed to the staff of the Seminary, St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth.

Fr. Brian Kavanagh, CC, Allen & AP Newbridge, to become PP, Balyna.

Once again many thanks and blessings to all,

+Denis Nulty

12 August 2026

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Biography

Date of Birth:
3rd February 1934

Date of Ordination:
22nd June 1958

Appointments
1958 – 1959: CC, Clane
1959 – 1969: Teaching Staff, Knockbeg
1969 – 1987: CC, Portlaoise
1987 – 1992: PP, Daingean. Appointed Vicar General in 1988.
1992 – 2000: PP, Portlaoise
2000 – 2026: PE CC, Killeigh

Funeral Arrangements:

Sunday, the 2nd day of August – Monsignor Tom will repose at Saint Joseph’s Church, Ballinagar, (R35 W728) from 3 pm with prayers at 7.30 pm.

Monday, the 3rd day of August – Monsignor Tom’s Requiem Mass will be celebrated in Saint Patrick’s Church, Killeigh (R35 H343) at 12 pm.
Following the Mass, Monsignor Tom will be laid to rest in Saint Mary’s Graveyard, Raheen (R35 K096).

Monsignor Tom’s Requiem Mass can be viewed on the following link: https://mcn.live/Camera/st-patricks-church-killeigh

May Monsignor Tom rest in peace.

Bishop Denis’ Homily at Msgr. Tom Coonan’s Requiem: St. Patrick’s Church, Killeigh              03.08.26

In ‘The Green and Red of Mayo’ The Saw Doctors sing:

“Oh take me to Clare Island

The home of Granuaile

It’s waters harbour fishes

From the herring to the whale”

For as good as fifty years Tom Coonan has been covering summer supply on Clare Island nestled in Clew Bay. It may be Mayo for Sam, Kerry for Butter, but Tom was for Clare Island!

Tom was born in Graiguenamanagh and never forgot those Kilkenny roots. He was ordained by Archbishop John Charles McQuaid out of Maynooth on June 22^nd, 1958 with 48 classmates, including the late Ned Whelan. It was the same year that Noel Dunphy was ordained from the Pontifical Irish College, Rome. Bishop Tom Keogh earlier that same month ordained 21 priests, mostly for the foreign missions from Carlow College, St. Patrick’s while Bishop Patrick Cleary, Bishop of Nancheng in China ordained 9 priests in St. Patrick’s, Kiltegan. A very different world and time then to 2026.

Tom Coonan was acutely aware that the world he was ordained into, and the one he continued to generously minister in, up until a couple of months ago, were different places. Tom was a voracious reader in his day, keeping up to speed with the latest theological discourse and thinking. He liked poetry. One that fell out of his breviary yesterday afternoon was titled ‘The Undertaker’ by Kildare poet John MacKenna:

“Each time I pass the undertaker’s store

I swear I see him wink and gently smile.

Behind him, through a widely open door,

a vast array of coffins to beguile,

like invitations issued year on year

to parties that are bound to end in tears”

Tom’s breviary was well worn and well used. Sometimes passing through Geashill, I would see him walking out the road from his home, praying the office as he walked, at one with the Creator God.

I purposefully chose the Road to Emmaus story for today’s Requiem. The first Book of Kings shows David passing on the baton to his son Solomon. Our psalmist reassures us that the Lord never leaves us, the Shepherd never abandons his sheep. St. Paul gives the preacher, the homilist, clear instructions. Tom is well remembered for his homilies, as attested to in the many tributes on rip.ie. He was there for families when loved ones were sick; he was there for couples as they welcomed new life in baptism; he was there for the younger children receiving their First Holy Communion and the older confirmandi.

Returning to that account of the Supper at Emmaus. The two disciples were heading away from Jerusalem, their faces downcast, their dreams shattered. Jesus came and walked by their side. And he invites them to tell their story. He empathised with them in their disillusionment; he gently probed, maybe even chastised, before sitting with them around the supper table. And as they recognise him, He is gone; but they too are then fired up and return the journey they had just travelled, to breathe new life into their dispirited colleagues. I never left a conversation with Msgr. Tom without in some way feeling challenged, but always the better for it.

Tom loved the schools. Recently a younger teacher at a diocesan in-service spoke of how the school valued the visit of the local priest, that priest was Tom Coonan. What he did in the four schools in Killeigh was shaped by his life in Clane, in Daingean, in Portlaoise and of course life as the History and Geography teacher in Knockbeg.

In the 1980’s the diocese gathered in the Ard Rí Hotel, it stood then proudly perched on the hill, overlooking the River Suir on the way into Waterford city. No longer an operating hotel as it was closed following a fire in 2005. The diocesan gathering was a momentous event in the time of Bishop Larry Ryan, and became a reference point for those of us coming afterwards and the work it stimulated and the conversations it began, have continued with greater intensity in more recent years. Tom Coonan had a key role in organising this event.

He was great with the sick and housebound and as the years passed those calls lasted longer, as those being attended were no longer parishioners, they had become friends. His outreach to Uganda is well recognised. How fitting it was that Fr. Tom Smith, a priest on mission in Uganda, should have been the one to anoint Tom, two days before his passing. His ministry to the sick is well noted in his many visits to Tullamore Hospital, to Nursing Homes and in the setting up of that health-care facility in Uganda.

In the days of the Covid pandemic and lockdown, Tom continued to reach out to parishioners by celebrating Mass on FaceBook from his Oratory in Geashill. He was then in his late 80’s. And when his sight began to fail in more recent times, he would learn the readings for the following weekend off by heart, print them in large font, because Tom Coonan knew a parish and its people are built around the Eucharist. And it’s in the Eucharist, like at Emmaus, we recognise “him at the breaking of bread”^[1].

His party piece in his day was ‘The Rose of Mooncoin’, a little different from the Saw Doctors fayre. The song is over for Msgr. Tom, but the melody lingers on. May he rest in peace. Amen.   

[1] Lk.24:35

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Reflections on the XXVII Columbanus Day in Lodi (Italy)

A year ago the weekend gone by, Carlow hosted the XXVI Columbanus Day. It was a huge venture, an enormous undertaking, a coming together of so many working together to make it a most successful weekend. Perhaps you attended some part of the festivities a year ago?

I think of the opening in Carlow County Museum, and the welcome from the late and much loved Museum Curator, Dermot Mulligan. The biodiversity conference in Carlow College stands out as do the different receptions hosted at the college. Maybe you walked the Columban Way from Mount Leinster to Myshall and enjoyed the splendid July weather that Saturday morning. I think of the most hospitable lunch served by the local ladies in Myshall and the talk that afternoon by former President Mary McAleese on ‘Columbanus, the Man from Myshall’. And then the reception of the relic and that walk from the Adelaide Church to the Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. That splendid concert in the Cathedral on Saturday evening culminating with Mass to honour the XXVI Columbanus Day on Sunday morning. The weekend concluded with the customary ‘Pilgrims Lunch’ in the Dolmen Hotel.

I returned last week with a group who flew the Carlow flag high at the XXVII Columbanus Day celebrations in Lodi, in the north of Italy. We had a wonderful weekend, with many pilgrims still commenting so favourably on last year’s celebrations.

The event this year began on Friday evening with a visit to San Colombano al Lambro to see the parish church of San Colombano Abate where we stepped into centuries of history and faith. The church is permanent home to a splendidly ornate reliquary of Saint Columbanus consisting of two ribs and a vertebra of the saint. While there we took time to pray and bring to the fore the intentions of our pilgrimage. Also we admired the more contemporary paintings depicting the life of Columbanus, including one where he with his twelve companions set sail from Bangor and another one of the saint and his monks planning the construction of the famous monastery at Bobbio. Our evening was to have concluded with an Irish Night in the Piazza del Populo, but a delayed start suggested our bus journey back to our hotel was a greater priority. We needed a good sleep for Day II.

On Saturday we walked the 13km walk, beginning at the church in Sant’Angelo Lodigiano, to San Colombano al Lambro on the Italian stretch of the Columban Way. How proud we were to think that the route we walked began on the side of Mount Leinster in Myshall.  Pope Leo XIV had been to Sant’Angelo Lodigiano a few weeks earlier to honour the birthplace of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini, the first US saint and patroness of migrants. Many of the shops and businesses were still festooned in papal colours and memorabilia recalling that pastoral visit. One message caught my eye: “Anche oggi un Leone guida la Chiesa e una Colomba continua a indicare la strada del cuore” giving the title to this reflection ‘Today too a lion (Leo) guides the Church and a dove (Columbanus) continues to show the way of the heart’. The Columban Way is indeed the way of the heart across Europe. Our walk was made enjoyable by the many fellow pilgrims we encountered along the way. It may not have been Mount Leinster but it was equally spectacular!

Later that evening the relics of St. Columbanus were brought from Bobbio and welcomed to Lodi Cathedral. It was such a moving moment to be present as the relics were carried shoulder high up the main aisle to be placed in the sanctuary. The man from Myshall had travelled far indeed. The brief ceremony was followed by a concert in the Piazza della Vittoria, the Piazza in front of Lodi Cathedral. Piazzas in Italy are great places for people to congregate, gather and celebrate; the Piazza della Vittoria did not let the side down.

On Sunday morning our group travelled the one hour journey to Bobbio, nestled in the Trebbia Valley, where Columbanus founded his last monastery and where he died and is laid to rest. We had a simple but moving prayer moment in the crypt of the Abbey of St. Columbanus around his resting place as our pilgrim group circled the splendidly ornate sarcophagus, realising we had travelled from the womb to the tomb of this sixth century saint.

That afternoon in the searing heat of Lodi we attended the welcome reception, hosted by Bishop Maurizio Malvestiti, along with several ecclesial and civic leaders. This was followed by the Mass honouring XXVII Columbanus Day. In a letter from Pope Leo to the Bishop of Lodi, Pope Leo prayed that “the days dedicated to the Saint help bring together people of different languages and nations, inviting them to rediscover together the values of the Christian tradition in order to respond to the challenges of our time”. He highlighted Columbanus’ emphasis on mercy, describing it as indispensable.  A proud moment for our Carlow pilgrims was when a number of our pilgrims had a prominent role during the Mass, including one of them reciting an intercessory prayer as gaeilge: “Guimid go spreagfaidh Naomh Columbán sinn chun Críost a leanúint, aire a thabhairt don bpláinéad agus síocháin a chur chun cinn. A Thiarna, éist linn” (We pray that St. Columbanus will inspire us to follow Christ, to take care of our planet and to promote peace, Lord hear us). And then the announcement, greeted by all of us with great joy that next year we will gather in Bangor and Belfast from 11 to 13 June 2027 to celebrate the XXVIII Columbanus Day. The formal announcement concluded that from Bangor, which for centuries was one of the foremost schools of monasticism throughout Europe, will resound, “with renewed vigor, the message of peace, of universal fraternity, and of unity that brings light to the darkness of present-day Europe”. The Pilgrim lunch was relished afterwards. And so the curtain fell on a most enjoyable XXVII Columbanus Day.

The celebration of these Columbanus Days is not an exercise of historical memory. They are a reminder at this time, as Ireland holds the six month Presidency of the European Union, that Columbanus was the first to write of a “totius Europae”, it didn’t matter if you were Turk, Frank or Irish, you were European. He crossed borders, literally and figuratively, and was the first to speak of a European identity; that is why the concept of these ‘Columbanus Days’ is so important.

X Denis Nulty

13 July 2026

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Loughcrew – Mass @ 3pm

Introduction:

We have come to Loughcrew, the birth place of St. Oliver Plunkett. Born here on the Feast of All Saints, November 1st 1625. From his birth he was destined for sainthood!

His father John Plunkett, was Baron of Loughcrew. His mother Thomasina Dillon was granddaughter of Sir Lucas Dillon, the Chief Baron of the Irish Exchequer. The Plunkett/Dillon families were well connected, and so are all of us to a saint beatified in May 1920 and canonised in October 1975, the first Irish person in almost 700 years. We are this afternoon on holy ground.

We are connected to St. Oliver through our faith. Perhaps we remember his canonisation? Maybe we were there? Possibly we were in Oldcastle on November 1975 as the relic of his ‘left femur bone’ was gifted from Downside Abbey? Maybe the name Oliver is in our family? 

St. Matthew on this Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time reminds us of family, Oliver Plunkett’s and ours, and the place of the cross in our hierarchy of preferences. “Anyone who does not take his cross and follow me in my footsteps is not worthy of me”[1]. Oliver would meet the cross many times in his life, but his footsteps began here, on this sacred ground that is Loughcrew.  

His message of forgiveness at a time of persecution, written most powerfully in his final letter from his cell in Newgate to Michael Plunkett on 22 June 1681, is a message of hope, resilience and mercy in a world that is briste agus brúite. And so we pray …

• Is tusa Tobar na Trócaire – you are the wellspring of mercy: A Thiarna, déan trócaire 

• Is tusa Slí na Fírinne – you are the way of Truth:  A Chríost, déan trócaire

• Bí linn i gcónaí, ós ár gcomhair amach – be with us always, showing us the way: A Thiarna, déan Trócaire

Homily:

My associations with Oliver Plunkett go back a while. In November 2011, I buried an Oliver Plunkett in Calvary Cemetery, Drogheda, a son of Ballinlough, next door! They weren’t related to the Loughcrew folk, as Oliver’s brother discovered researching the family tree many years earlier. We all want to be related to saints; it’s the sinners we find it hard to shake off the family tree!

Staying with Drogheda there we find the Shrine to St. Oliver in St. Peter’s Church on West Street, recently restored to mark last year’s quatercentenary celebrations of his birth here in Loughcrew. The attraction and focus is clearly on the relic there, of the head, on permanent display since June1921.

Growing up in Slane, from childhood I was intrigued by the heavy oak door of the Newgate Prison cell where Oliver spent six months in solitary confinement before his sham trial. Apparently the door was a gift from the Mayor of Wrexham in Wales to St. Peter’s Church, Drogheda, over seventy years ago.

That vulgar padlocked door, is a keen reminder of those who live behind such padlocks today. Not just prisoners on their journey towards rehabilitation into society; but more keenly those living in domestic abuse situations; those trafficked to Europe under a false pretence; those languishing in IPAS centres, those turned back at borders or ports or boarded onto planes because documentation is incomplete. 

St. Oliver Plunkett stirs up many emotions. The brutality of martyrdom “hung, drawn and quartered” at the gallows in Tyburn, around three kilometres from Newgate. Even that language carries a grotesque image. What exactly does quartered mean? It reminds us of the many who continue to be martyred for their faith across several continents. Religious freedom is not a privilege, it is a fundamental human right.

In 2013 I was appointed Bishop of Kildare & Leighlin, I left the banks of the Boyne for the banks of the Barrow, the longest of the three sisters, the Barrow, the Nore and the Suir. Once again I would cross paths with St. Oliver Plunkett. Our Kildare & Leighlin diocesan historian Comerford reminds us it was Plunkett who united the two dioceses of Kildare and of Leighlin in 1678.

It might be reasonably asked why was Plunkett so keen on amalgamation. Was it simply for very practical economic reasons? Kildare then was amongst the poorest dioceses in the country with about fifteen priests. In a letter Oliver Plunkett sent to Cardinal Colonna[2] in Rome, he tells him that Bishop Forstall would have to get a subvention from the Congregation. But if he enjoyed the administration of Leighlin which had around fifteen or sixteen priests with a similar income to Kildare, united they could pay enough to sustain a Bishop! I say today thank God for Oliver Plunkett!

Oliver held Bishop Forstall of Kildare in the highest esteem and Comerford reminds us “more than once (Plunkett) recommended to the Holy See that he (Forstall) should receive also the administration of the Diocese of Leighlin”^[3]. On Forstall’s death Edward Wesley was appointed Bishop of Kildare and Administrator of Leighlin, which was already vacant, despite the fact that twelve Leighlin priests petitioned that it align with Ossory under Bishop Phelan at the time. Diocesan realignment is not just a conversation of this twenty-first century! Two years post Tyburn, Plunkett had sown the seed of amalgamation and the Holy See was not for turning.

Of 162 Primary Schools under my patronage in Kildare & Leighlin, only one carries the dedication to St. Oliver Plunkett. That school is in the Killina end of Carbury Parish; home today to 88 pupils who are very happy in their Catholic Primary School and for us are our nod to St. Oliver Plunkett’s passion for education. Opened in 1955 it originally was called after Blessed Oliver. A fitting patron for any school – archbishop, educator and martyr. The River Boyne rises in Carbury parish, before reaching the Irish Sea at Drogheda.

In Drogheda, Oliver established a number of schools, one being a Jesuit school. Catholic education was a critical priority for him. While the schools had varying levels of success, they didn’t last long. In one of his letters from Drogheda dated 26 April 1671 he spoke of these Jesuit schools “where they train up to 150 boys and twenty-five priests.”^[4] Catholic education remains critical today. At a time when divestment is under consideration, remaining schools must be unapologetically Catholic.

One of my priests is a descendant of the Plunkett  family. He tells me that two grandnieces of Oliver, two sisters married two eligible young lads from Clonaslee, at the foot of the Slieve Blooms in  Laois. One was a Dunne, the other a Corbett, his mothers people. The Plunkett of Loughcrew family name features prominently in his grandparents generation. 

For a significant birthday in recent years I was treated to a tour of Dunsany Castle, so much associated with the Plunkett name. St. Oliver Plunkett’s portrait has pride of place in Dunsany. But more importantly his episcopal ring and the crook of his travelling crozier. Both ring and crozier date back to 1669 when at the age of forty-four, he was appointed Archbishop of Armagh.

The late Cardinal Tomas O’Fiaich reminds us “Plunkett was only three months in Ireland when he succeeded in bringing the bishops of the country together”^[5]. There is no doubt but that his management style ruffled feathers. The restoration of the Church in Ireland was his greatest challenge. Many dioceses were then vacant. There was tension between secular and regular clergy; interreligious disputes between orders. The training of priests left a lot to be desired. Oliver Plunkett came trying to undo the damage and stench left by a more notorious namesake. A persecuted faith left a very fragile and divided Church. There was much to do and Oliver didn’t waste any time.

He found himself travelling extensively across six or seven dioceses doing huge backlogs of Confirmations for many adults. It is estimated he confirmed 10,000 in the first six weeks. These were penal times. By 1673 his own records show that he would have personally confirmed 48,655 candidates^[6].

Desmond Forristal puts heavy emphasis on the fact that Oliver Plunkett was a Bishop who stayed close to his people: “by word and example, he hammered home the principle that a Bishop’s place was with his people, that a bishopric was a service to be rendered rather than a benefice to be enjoyed”^[7]. Just a week before his own martyrdom he wrote: “Bishop Forstall of Kildare would have departed but yet I hindered him, for if the captains will fly, tis in vain to exhort the single soldier to stand in battle”[8]. Ultimately staying close to his people would cost Plunkett his life. A phrase much associated with Pope Francis that bishops “needed to be shepherds living with the smell of the sheep”^[9].

St. Paul’s words this afternoon always puzzled my father, how does baptism bring us back into a tomb? It does if we live our baptism fully. We are baptised, not we were baptised. Baptism isn’t a standalone event. We live our baptism every day by taking up our cross and following Christ fully. It was the baptism Oliver celebrated here in Loughcrew that sustained him as he was challenged by a faith that was outlawed and suppressed. He encountered fellow clergy and brother bishops who were less certain of their mandate and mission and he was unjustly condemned and brought to the scaffold at Tyburn.

All of us are called to live our baptism. Oliver’s story reinforces our own. Pope Leo, preaching to 1.2M at the Corpus Christi Mass  in Madrid reminded them that Spain’s historic Church was not a folklore museum to be visited but a school of faith for the building of a better society. He said that the Eucharist was not just about “bringing out the monstrance, but of allowing ourselves to be brought out of our selfishness and indifference, of a comfortable, private faith, so as to respond to his invitation to conversion, to change our perspective, and to welcome his presence which transforms us and makes us builders of a new world”[10]. St. Oliver Plunkett achieved this, by living his baptism fully. We are called to do no more or no less.

[1] Mt.10:38

[2] Comerford, Michael: ‘Dioceses of Kildare & Leighlin’ Volume 1, 1883, pg. 37-38.

[3] Comerford, Michael: ‘Dioceses of Kildare & Leighlin’ Volume 1, 1883, pg. 68.

[4] Hanly, John: ‘The Letters of Saint Oliver Plunkett: 1625-1681’, Dolmen Press, 1979, Letter #79, pg. 186.

[5] O’Fiaich, Tomas, ‘Oliver Plunkett Ireland’s New Saint’, Veritas, 1975, pg. 48.

[6] Donnelly, Frank: ‘Until the Storm Passes – St. Oliver Plunkett’, 1993, pg. 4.

[7] O’Fiaich, Tomas & Forristal, Desmond: ‘Oliver Plunkett: his life and letters’, Our Sunday Visitor, Indiana, 1975, pg. 257.

[8] Hanly, John: ‘The Letters of Saint Oliver Plunkett: 1625-1681’, Dolmen Press, 1979, Letter #226, pg. 577.

[9] Pope Francis, Chrism Homily, 28 March 2013.

[10] Pope Leo XIV, Homily at Holy Mass, Procession and Eucharistic Blessing, Plaza de Cibeles, Madrid, Sunday 7 June 2026

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St. Patrick’s Church, Rathvilly – 27 June 2026

St. Paul’s words this evening always puzzled my dad, how could baptism bring us back into a tomb, he would ask? The symbol of our faith is a cross, the cross is an instrument of death, it’s the sign we mark ourselves every time we pray. Why this Christian fascination with death? With our faith in Christ who has died and is risen, we are ourselves free from the fear of death to walk with courage and live fulfilled lives. The tomb reminds us to live baptism every day.

We are baptised, not we were baptised. The Irish Synodal pathway reminds us baptism isn’t a standalone event. We live our baptism every day by taking up our cross and following Christ fully, as emphasised in Matthew’s gospel.

All of us are called to live our baptism. The Final Document of the Universal Synod ‘For a Synodal Church: Communion, Participation, Mission’ said “Baptism is the foundation of Christian life. This is because it introduces everyone to the greatest gift. This is to be children of God, that is, to share in Jesus’ relationship to the Father in the Spirit. There is nothing higher than baptismal dignity”[1]. And I suggest this Jubilee evening, Msgr. John McEvoy fully lives out this baptismal dignity in the way he ministers as a priest among us all.  

Priesthood is about celebrating the Eucharist and as celebrant or presider been sustained and nourished by Eucharist ourselves. Priesthood is about generosity as demonstrated by that “woman of rank”[2] towards the prophet Elisha in our first reading from the Book of Kings, generously giving our celibate lives over completely to Christ. Priesthood is about taking up the cross, maybe every day and not losing heart or becoming despondent to our sense of calling, as perhaps one cross is followed too quickly by another.

Ordaining priests in Rome last April, Pope Leo reminded the ten newly ordained that the communities, the parishes to which they are appointed are not empty or passive, but already marked by the presence of the Risen Christ. He told them “these communities will also help you to become saints”[3].

John McEvoy’s education journey began in the Brigidine Convent School in Ballyroan, before moving to the Boys’ Primary School there and then going to Knockbeg. As a seminarian his studies were divided between Maynooth and Rome. He was ordained in Ballyroan by Bishop Patrick Lennon on this day in 1976. But a much more important sacrament took place in the old church in Portlaoise years earlier on 15 April 1951, when at 5 days old John McEvoy was presented for baptism. He has been living his baptism every day since.

Living it out in every one of his appointments as Professor of Moral Theology in Carlow College, forming seminarians who remember his days there with great fondness; serving as College bursar there for the past forty years and Vice-President over the past thirty years. John has given sterling service to the College and to the Diocese taking up appointments in Tinryland, Paulstown-Goresbridge and here among you in Rathvilly-Kiltegan. He wears his gifts lightly. Other hats he dons includes leading the team charged with the promotion, formation and ongoing support of our Permanent Deacons. I welcome the many deacons and their wives who join with Deacon Liam, the Parish deacon, here this evening. He also serves on the Council of Priests, the Delany Archives as well as numerous other bodies and boards.

John is passionate on the causes of different saints. He has a keen love for St. Fintan from his home parish, St. Columbanus, St. Patrick, St. Brigid and St. Tegan to mention but a few. He features in a number of publications, writing an excellent chapter on the cause of Fr. Andrew Mullen (1790-1818), a son of Daingean, among the first students at Carlow College, who died in Clonmore at the age of twenty-eight. John’s chapter in the publication ‘The Rock from Which You Were Hewn’[4], published in 2024, is well worth a read for those who would like to know more about the only Kildare & Leighlin cause on the desk of the Dicastery for the Causes of Saints in Rome. Better still start praying through Fr. Andrew’s intercession.    

John’s book ‘Carlow College 1793-1993’ was written as a tribute to all Carlovians on the occasion of the college’s bicentenary telling the story of the college, the ordained students and teaching staff; it remains today a splendid resource. He continues to update the list of alumni on either side of the Atlantic. He edited the very useful ‘Churches of Kildare & Leighlin 2000 AD’[5], very much the ‘go to’ book for me when making a parish visit. He appears occasionally in the Africa Magazine, writing a little while back on the 400^th Anniversary of Propaganda Fide[6].

Recently my eye was drawn to details of the Rome launch of ‘Luke Wadding. A Life: Religion, Politics and Culture, 1588-1657’ written by Benjamin Hazard. Msgr. John would be quick to remind me he was the only Irishman who received votes in two successive papal conclaves (1644 and 1655) even though he was not a cardinal, probably the greatest of all the Irish College founding intellectuals, guardian of St. Isidore’s where the recent launch took place.

John loves detail – years, dates, events. He has a propensity for the minutia and a lack of tolerance for inaccuracy!  Having spent a good while as a student in both the Gregorian University and in the Irish College, Rome; even the professional tour guides in the eternal city have been fact checked on occasion. And of course John would always be right!

We are watching on our screens the unfolding harrowing story of the deadly earthquakes in Venezuela. 50,000 people are missing; 920 confirmed dead but it’s very early days. I have no doubt we will respond hugely generously as we always do, as soon as safe ways are determined for getting aid into the country and distributing it to those most affected. For now we very much hold them in the heart of our prayers.

This evenings Peter’s Pence Collection allows us here in Rathvilly, in Talbotstown, in Tynock and throughout the diocese to be part of Pope Leo XIV’s global mission of peace, hope and charity. All of that so badly needed in Venezuela at this critical time.  

Propaganda Fide, close to the heart of John’s own priesthood, reminds us of the importance of preaching the gospel in the most isolated parts of the world. And I leave the last word to John from that Africa Magazine four years back as he wrote: “that the Word of God is the same yesterday, today and forever”[7], whether that word is proclaimed in Rathvilly or Rio, in Talbotstown or Tasmania, in Tynock or Tigray. To Msgr. John, who on my request in 2021, was honoured with the title of Chaplain of His Holiness, with great affection we say this night “ad multos annos”. 

[1] XIV Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, Second Session; ‘For a Synodal Church: Communion, Participation, Mission’, (2-27 October 2024), Final Document, 26 October 2024

[2] 2K.4:8

[3] Pope Leo XIV, Homily on Day of Prayer for Vocations, St. Peter’s Basilica, Rome, 26 April 2026

[4] Kenny, Patrick & Hogan, John: ‘The Rock from which You Were Hewn – the lives and legacy of Holy Irish Men and Women’, Cenacle Press, Silverstream, 2024, pgs.223-229

[5] McEvoy, John: ‘The Churches of Kildare & Leighlin 2000 A.D.’ with drawings and research by John Duffy, Editions du Signe, 2000

[6] Africa Magazine, November 2022, pgs. 6-8

[7] ibid, pg. 8

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Mass @ 12noon – Holy Family Church, Askea

Golden Jubilee of the Church

Introduction:

It’s the longest day of the year, the summer solstice. The sun rose this morning at two minutes after 5am and is due to set at four minutes ahead of 10pm! That’s 16 hours and 54 minutes of daylight, of sunlight. We thank God for blessing us on this Golden Jubilee day with such splendid weather.  

Holy Family Church here in Askea is one of only two churches in the diocese dedicated to the Holy Family. The other is Holy Family Church in Kilshanroe in Carbury parish in the northern end of the diocese. Kilshanroe was built just a year ahead of Askea.

Our year is 1976. And todays celebration marks the Golden Jubilee – 50 years of Holy Family Church, Askea. What happens later outside the church with our parish picnic and all the other activities is nourished by what happens inside here as we celebrate these sacred mysteries. And there has been fifty years of such nourishment that brings us all here today.

Matthew’s gospel carries the instruction to the twelve, opening with the reassurance: “Do not be afraid”^[1]. Fear can be very discommoding. Sometimes we can’t put our finger on the fear, but we know it’s there and it’s very real.

On this Day for Life we realise every human life has dignity because every human life is created by God, loved by God, held by God and forgiven by God and so on this Golden Jubilee day we pray …

• Is tusa Tobar na Trócaire – you are the wellspring of mercy:

A Thiarna, déan trócaire 

• Is tusa Slí na Fírinne – you are the way of Truth: 

A Chríost, déan trócaire

• Bí linn i gcónaí, ós ár gcomhair amach – be with us always, showing us the way.

A Thiarna, déan Trócaire

Homily:

Today is June 21st. The longest day of the year. Our year is turning. Nothing stands still. The poet Jadine Lydia reminds us:

“as the world spins

into her longest, lightest day

we celebrate the laughter

and the joy along the way”[2]

Jubilee moments allow us momentarily to stand still as the world spins into her longest, lightest day. The Nationalist and Leinster Times of May 4^th, 1973 carried a front page photograph of Bishop Patrick Lennon digging the first sod for the site of the new church, we know today as Holy Family or simply Askea. Bishop Lennon, surrounded by scouts and guides, said then “it’s not just a building or a church, it is for the people”[3]; even in its infancy it was destined to be a place where families felt welcomed, where young people felt at home.

In the planning and those early days of construction it was called the Church of St. Joseph the Worker. Before that sod was ever turned it attracted no small amount of controversy in the letters section of the Nationalist, as a debate ensued on what Carlow town needed most. It would eventually be called Holy Family Church. Such was the curiosity around the design of the church that even the Irish Times[4] carried a photograph of the then novel elliptical frame that was the roof, a roof which would be problematic in time and indeed replaced as Fr. Tom Little and those around him well know at a later date.

In ‘The Churches of Kildare & Leighlin 2000AD’, John McEvoy writes that this“church is of unique architectural style, inspired by the Old Testament moving tent, which contained the Ark of the Covenant, during the period after the Exodus”[5]. Everyone has their own favourite feature in the church, perhaps it’s the baptism motif on the wall at the baptistry or maybe the fact that there are no obstructing pillars blocking views of the sanctuary or it could be the Stations of the Cross painted directly onto the brickwork. We might even have our favourite seat or the shrine where the lit candle never lets us down.

Every church is a Teach an Phobail, ‘The House of the People’, as Bishop Lennon reminded us on that sod turning day that the people were centre, not the building. And they have remained so, since the first Mass here on April 4^th 1976, as the church heaved with people. I love celebrating Mass here and do so regularly. If the church walls could speak, what stories would they tell? It could be about the thousands of people who have come through the church doors over the past fifty years for Sunday or weekday Masses, baptisms, first communions, confirmations, weddings and requiems, or simply to light a candle or say a prayer.

Matthew on this Twelfth in Ordinary Time allows us to eavesdrop into an intimate teaching moment of Jesus with his disciples. He was hardening them for mission, for witnessing to Him in the public square. He knew their road ahead was tough as ours is tough, declaring for Christ in a world that might prefer we kept silent or at least quiet, out of the way. They and we are told “Do not be afraid”^[6]. A phrase repeated 365 times in the bible. Fear is something we find it hard to cope with. Unlike other emotions, there is no release valve for fear. More often, there is nothing we can do to lighten or release it. The more someone tries to reassure us that “it will be all right and you’ll be fine”, the greater the paralysis fear becomes, robbing us of our strength to overcome it.

The image of buying two sparrows for a penny, is taken up a few verses later with the reassurance that “you are worth more than hundreds of sparrows”^[7]. Scripture commentaries remind us the sparrow was the cheapest bird to be sold in the market, as food for the poor. Denis McBride suggests “two for a penny and five for two pennies. The fifth was thrown in for nothing”^[8]. Basically they had no value, they were of no worth. And here Jesus tells the disciples they are worth something, they are valued, they are appreciated.

What a beautiful simple message on this ‘Day for Life’! Your real worth before God is a more powerful force than any fear that might grip you. All of us are valued. On this Day for Life all life is valued, all life is of worth. In this age of huge uncertainty with wars on so many fronts and truces and accords lasting no longer than a day, fear can take hold. Into this fear, Jesus speaks. Every human life has immeasurable worth from the life of the most defenceless unborn child to the accompaniment of those seriously ill, from the dignity of those living with disability to the place of the elderly in society. Every human life matters. Every human life deserves and is worthy of protection. The true measure of a country is not the power of the strong, but the protection of the weak – the unborn, the elderly, the less-abled, those close to death. The next six months as we assume the Presidency of the European Union allows us a space to forge this very narrative, to take the lead in this very discourse.

So what challenge might we take on ourselves for the next fifty years? Collaborating with others it would be great to see a ministry to families emerging from Askea. The parish prides itself in offering early childcare and supporting senior citizens. The fear that can grip families who fall between the stools of not having childcare concerns and not being classed as a senior citizen, who fall neatly into neither category, can at times can be paralysing. Teenagers need people to work with them; parents need support structures; marriages need accompaniment in the early years. What kind of family ministry might emerge, only time will tell, but what I do know is it is badly needed today and might be our way of turning a new sod fifty years on, after all Holy Family, Askea is about the people not just about the building.    

On this Jubilee Day we acknowledge and thank the priests who were here during construction and at the opening of the Church, Fr’s Tom Brophy, Jack O’Leary, Frank MacNamara, John Fingleton, Willie O’Byrne and the forever young Tommy Dillon. Great that Fr. Frank and Fr. Willie are back this day, as indeed are other men who served here, all most welcome. I commend people like Michael Shannon, who in the footsteps of his dad served as sacristan here for many years. I commend the late and much missed Norah Holohan. I commend people like Clare Cashin who has been leading music ministry here since the day the church opened. I commend Sr. Joan Pierse who followed Sr. Anne Codd. I commend the many more involved in the life and heart of this church and parish too numerous to mention, particularly Fr. Tom and Fr. Tommy. I thank the Golden Jubilee Committee who organised all aspects of this celebration.  

[1] Mt.10:26

[2] Lydia, Jadine ‘Summer Beckons’

[3] The Nationalist and Leinster Times, Friday, May 4, 1973, Vol. 90, pg. 1.

[4] The Irish Times, December 3, 1974, pg. 1.

[5] McEvoy, John: ‘The Churches of Kildare & Leighlin 2000AD’, pg. 14.

[6] Mt.10:26

[7] Jn. 10:31

[8] McBride, Denis C.SS.R.: ‘Seasons of the Word’, Redemptorist Publications, 1991, pg. 239.

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St. Patrick’s Church, Rathoe

Mass @ 7pm

Introduction:

We gather in St. Patrick’s Church, Rathoe to celebrate Fr. Jim O’Connell’s Diamond Jubilee. Jim is not a man who would want to attract accolades or even to draw attention, so evenings like this, go hard on him, because he is a priest to his fingertips. However, much and all as he mightn’t like it or want it, we are all glad to be around him this evening to encourage, affirm and wish him abundant blessings.

The prophet Jeremiah reminds us the Lord has his eye on us before we are even born, in other words our pathway in life is well and truly set out, we mightn’t know it but He does! St. Paul speaks of the variety of gifts there are. Priesthood brings to the fore that variety, every priest is different, every priest is needed.

In the many appointments Jim has held and continues to generously hold, St. Matthew reminds us seed will fall on a variety of soil. There are people here tonight in Rathoe whose lives have been profoundly impacted by Jim. A priest mightn’t appreciate the power of his words, the effect of his action or the import his presence made at a moment in time, but it had and you are here.

And so as we begin to celebrate these sacred mysteries, we call to mind our sins and pray for forgiveness …  

Homily:

In the Maynooth class of 1966 there were 60 students, two donning the Kildare & Leighlin colours, Pierce Murphy and Jim O’Connell. I noted the only Meath man of that time was the late Paddy Keary, my next door neighbour from my Drogheda days. We all know Pierce went to his eternal rest in those harsh couple of weeks in the Spring of 2019 that robbed us also of the young John Cummins.

1966, sixty years ago, was not only a very different Ireland, but a world apart from the Ireland of today. Spieling off ordination numbers might seem a little trite nonetheless it helps to paint a picture. There were 6 ordained from Rome; 28 from St. Patrick’s College, Carlow; 20 from St. Kieran’s College, Kilkenny; 17 from Waterford; 15 from Thurles; 12 from Wexford; 28 from All Hallows and 8 from Clonliffe College. In all there were 194 Diocesan Priests ordained, most of them for ministry on this island; more of them generously ministering in dioceses across the States and England.

In 2026 there are four ordinations. The projected numbers of seminarians studying for the priesthood at the National Seminary in Maynooth next September is 40. Kildare & Leighlin have one seminarian, but there are a further two at the Inquiry Stage, hopefully both may enter Propaedeutic Programmes in the next while.

In Fr. Jim’s day there was no such thing as Inquiry, Propaedeutic or even Discipleship, you kind of ‘got on with it’, but then again it was a different world, a different Church. For a young lad to put his hand up and say he wants to pursue a religious vocation today is not only brave and adventurous as it was then sixty years ago, but today it’s also very courageous and intentionally swimming against the current tide. I’m convinced vocations are out there and we need to do all we can as parents, grandparents, siblings and friends to do our bit to sow a seed. God alone knows the fertile ground that seed might land on, like in the life of the young James O’Connell from Clonaghadoo!

Vocations are critical for the life and vitality of our Church, our faith, our diocese. As we continue to get accustomed to a new language of church, parish and ministry; priests remain central to our mission. A parish without Eucharist is a parish without a lung. Lay Pastoral Ministry, volunteering is at the heart of every parish, all essential in the parameters of co-responsibility but it is the Mass that gathers us together, sustains us and nurtures us. I’ve said before and repeat again on these significant and momentous Jubilee moments, be reasonable in any requests made of the local priest; he will not and cannot be expected to reach on everything.

Our church in Rathoe is dedicated to St. Patrick. It reminds us of our mission, to communicate the Gospel of Jesus Christ. While circumstances change and the way we communicate continues to evolve, we only have to think of Pope Leo XIV’s recent encyclical ‘Magnifica Humanitas’, today more than ever we need to know Jesus Christ and to experience His power, to appreciate His presence in our lives.

The creation of ‘Pastoral Areas’ is not just a pencil exercise on a page, it is exploring and embracing new models to sustain a viable and vibrant future for the 56 parishes of the diocese. A Pastoral Area seeks to build collaboration and community rather than competition and conflict within the group of parishes within the Pastoral Area. A Pastoral Area is not about obliterating the identity of an individual parish or a particular faith community but in fact enhancing both by offering ministries that allow lay people to flourish. A Pastoral Area allows us to view ministry through a fresh lens.

I purposefully haven’t over focused on Jim, he wouldn’t want it! However it is his Diamond Jubilee evening and you know him as well and maybe better than I do. The Longford writer, John Connell’s latest book is titled ‘The Wisdom of Farmers – What We Can Learn from the Land’ offering as usual practical guidelines that can be applied to any field or discipline. Things like getting up early in the morning, slowing down to observe the hawthorn bush in bloom, recognising that the past is closer than we think. Connell writes “if we take time to savour joy, we can discover our inner smile. That smile resides within us, but at times we must work hard to stoke its flames”[1]. Fr. Jim is the happiest priest I know, he even laughs at his own jokes! I could imagine John Connell writing a book ‘The Wisdom of Priests – What We Can Learn from the Parish’. In every parish, in every appointment, Jim brought people with him and they took him to their heart.

Like John Connell, like the late and much loved Manchán Magan, Fr. Jim O’Connell has ministered and continues to minister on the edges, so approachable, so commendable and so reachable. A present I often receive from my siblings at birthdays or at Christmas are there three packs of socks, you’re all familiar with them. Maybe they are still in their packs in the drawers! I’m not sure if Jim owns many pairs of socks, but those tan-lined sandaled feet have walked, have cycled and have driven to many places of Kildare & Leighlin ministering most effectively to God’s people. Jim, may God bless you, now and always.

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