Father Lawrence Byrne C.P. |
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FUNERAL HOMILY
As well as being here to mourn Lawrence’s death and to celebrate his life, we are also here to undertake our Christian duty to give Lawrence back to God, the God from whom he came, the God whom here he served so faithfully and so well, firstly, and for his whole life, as a baptised Catholic; but also as a Passionist Religious, initially, for around 17 years, as a professed Brother, and then from 1981 onwards, just short of 40 years, as an ordained priest, serving God with great dedication, in many different places and in many different ministries, the God to whom Lawrence was always destined to return, our hearts always restless until they rest in God. We’re not going to do justice to that here today in this small gathering, we’ll save that for a later time when this present crisis is over and we can bring together all those whom we mentioned earlier who would have wanted to be here today but can’t, and we will celebrate a memorial Mass for Lawrence.
At the door of the church I sprinkled Lawrence’s coffin with holy water, as a reminder of his baptism, accompanied by the words: “In the waters of baptism Lawrence died with Christ and rose with him to new life, may he now share with Christ eternal glory”. When Lawrence was baptised, back in 1941, 78 years and more ago, he was baptised into Christ’s death and he has quite literally entered into that death now, but he was also baptised into Christ’s resurrection. His death therefore is not a door into eternal darkness, but simply a dark door to pass through into the everlasting light of God’s love where God’s grace and mercy await him. Though he may appear to have died in truth he is now at peace, and ready to enjoy that abundance of God’s goodness and God’s blessings that we heard about in the first reading.
We are reminded of that in this season of Lent, which began on Ash Wednesday, with the signing of ashes, the dust of the earth from which we came and to which we all must return. Lent stirs in us a remembrance Jesus’ death but then leads us on to a celebration of his rising to new life at Easter. And that victory of Jesus over death is a victory that all people of faith are invited to share in, and so we believe that Lawrence, a man of great faith, who meditated on, believed in, and faithfully preached these great mysteries so often as a Passionist, is destined to share that gift of eternal life with God in heaven, his good deeds gone with him, as we heard in the second reading, his many acts of love, compassion and kindness to others, and that, as St. Paul says, is our sure and certain hope.
My first encounter with Lawrence was when he came back from Africa, having decided to take his Passionist vocation in another direction by studying for the priesthood. We had a big student body at that time, over twenty of us, but still we struggled to put together a football team for the seminary league, and so, when it was discovered that Lawrence had previous experience as a goalkeeper, he was coaxed out of retirement to be our own holy goalie, and a good goalie he was too.
If he had any reluctance to do this, my own sense was that it was because he wanted to take his studies very seriously, he really felt called to priesthood, and I can remember him spending long hours in his room poring over his books and his notes from the Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology, just as years later, and indeed in recent times until his sickness took a more debilitating hold a few months ago, I would see him spending long hours in his room, poring over the scriptures for the following Sunday, so as to have something worthwhile to say to the people of God that would be affirming and encouraging. He always wanted to lift people up out of a genuine compassion, and that was something he frequently achieved as people of all kinds felt that Lawrence’s sermons somehow spoke directly to them.
One of the many expressions of condolence I received was from a Scottish Member of Parliament who was always inspired by Lawrence’s homilies. As you know, Lawrence took a keen interest in politics and often wrote to MP’s, especially around issues that he felt strongly about, like abortion, and in a respectful way he left them in no doubt about where he stood and where he thought they should stand. This particular MP was devastated at his death and recalled how delighted Lawrence was at her re-election and how he told her he knew exactly where she sat at Westminster when he watched the debates on TV. She simply said that he was a lovely man, full of much wisdom, and that she was glad that she often took the time to tell him how meaningful his sermons were to her, and I think she would speak for lots of people in that regard.
Another expression of condolence came from, Sister Therese, whom the family know, a Cross and Passion Sister who was with Lawrence in Africa, and especially during his years in Tsabong, the Passionist mission 400 kilometres out into the Kalahari Desert. I visited Lawrence there for Palm Sunday in 1994. He was a much-loved priest there, but I always remember how he had used his skills as an electrician to rig up some kind of solar panel powered contraption to be able to listen to Celtic matches on the radio, even in that far distant place. We don’t have time here to go into his great passion for Celtic, but it was very real. Sister Therese was the last person to speak to Lawrence, on the phone, from the Marie Curie Hospice, the night before he died. In her letter of condolence, she sent me some Kalahari sand from Tsabong that she hoped I could pour into the grave in acknowledgment of those years of service to the church in Botswana, and I will do that.
Another expression of condolence came in a series of emails from some of those younger men who were students at the time Larry came home to study for priesthood, and to whom he became a kind of father figure, or at least an older brother figure. Few of them stayed, they’re all mostly married with children now, even grandchildren, but one of them, possibly the best player we had in our football team at that time, told how he received a lovely and unexpected note from Lawrence on the death of his mother just last year. How did Lawrence know his mother had died? How did he know his address? Such quiet, hidden acts of kindness and compassion were very typical of Lawrence as I’m sure you know.
These are just a few random memories for now. Paul will fill in some family memories later in this Mass. As a Passionist community we will miss him, but we know how much you will miss him too, because we know how much he loved his family, and of the great affection he had for the younger members of the family, especially the children, whom he delighted to see, and whose photographs adorned his room, and there was a mug given to him by Marissa with pictures of Lawrence and the children around it, which had a special place on the shelf of his bookcase.
His last journey out was when Antony, with whom Larry had a lovely relationship of mutual respect and trust, which had not a little to do with that same passion for Celtic, drove him down to Irvine to see Catherine, the second such trip taken in a short space of time, and of course, sadly, Catherine died the following morning. Afterwards he reflected that Catherine was only diagnosed 8 weeks previously, while he was diagnosed 2 years and 4 months previously. Perhaps it was then that he chose to let go. These last two years and four months of Lawrence’s life were an extraordinary journey of courage, determination, faith, and a stubborn refusal to give up, although he always said, and Sister Therese attested to this in her letter, that he had no fear of death, but he didn’t want to die.
Father Gareth, the youngest member of our community, who is in Wales at present looking after his mum, has a habit of saying about all kinds of topics – I could write a book – and I think we could all write a book, indeed many books about Lawrence, but he is now in that place that Christ has prepared for him, a place of no more sickness, suffering, sadness or tears, but simply a place of everlasting life, light, happiness and peace, united with loved ones who have gone before, including his sister Catherine, and awaiting loved ones who will follow after. We bring him now to the threshold of that place, and we take Christ at His word, that he will now come and lead him the rest of the way, into his eternal home. Let us commend him now with our prayers.
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd MARCH 2020
On the same day I had to announce to people that all public Masses in Scotland were suspended until further notice, I also had to announce the death of Father Lawrence Byrne CP, a member of our Passionist community here at St. Mungo’s. It was a real double-whammy for people, like a double bereavement, the loss of not being able to gather for the Eucharist, the source and summit of our Christian lives, for God only knows how long; and the loss of a man who was a much loved preacher and confessor, and whose kind and gentle approach endeared him to so many folk who will grieve at the thought of never seeing or hearing him again. I don’t think he realized how much loved he was, perhaps people didn’t tell him enough, but they certainly told us.
Lawrence was born in Irvine during the 2nd World War. On his birth certificate his father is described as an explosives’ worker. Lawrence himself qualified as an electrician but then joined the Passionists in his early 20’s and made his 1st Religious Profession on 8th March 1964. He spent many years in Botswana as a Passionist Brother but in the mid-1970’s he decided to return home and study for priesthood. That meant we were students together in Dublin and during that time Lawrence was persuaded by his confreres to come out of sporting retirement to take up his position as a goalkeeper when we were struggling to put a team together for the Seminary League, and a fine goalkeeper he was too. He was the original Holy Goalie. Lawrence loved his football and especially he loved Glasgow Celtic. Before he joined the Passionists he had attended Celtic’s famous 7-1 victory over Rangers in the 1957 League Cup Final, and his account of that day was submitted and included in Pat Woods’ book recalling that memorable event, “Oh! Hampden in the Sun”.
During one of our Seminary League games in the late 1970’s, when Lawrence was in goals and I was playing Right Back, I took a knock on the leg making a pass-back and I shouted to him not to throw the ball back out to me. Unfortunately, he did, and I made a poor clearance from which the opposition scored. He was not a happy goalie. Forty years later I was driving from Bishopbriggs to St. Mungo’s with Lawrence in the passenger seat and, believe me, he was not a good passenger. Turning into Baird Street I made a manoeuvre which Lawrence didn’t appreciate. He turned to me with a glare and said to me through gritted teeth; “You’re as bad a driver as you were a Right Back” – some things are never forgotten. Of course, Lawrence himself was a notoriously slow driver. When Father Pat Rogers was in St. Mungo’s preaching the Novena of Hope in September 2017, Lawrence gave him a lift to the Passionist Retreat Centre at Minsteracres in County Durham where Pat was due to give a seminar. As Pat describes it; “It was a long, slow journey, for Larry was reluctant to bypass any other vehicle no matter how slowly it was travelling. It took me about six minutes to persuade him to pass a tractor, on a long, straight stretch of road, 30 miles East of Carlisle”.
Lawrence was diagnosed with an aggressive Cancer a few months after that, in December 2017. The next two years and more were an extraordinary journey of courage and determination. Time and again, just when you thought he had reached the end, he would somehow rally and say that he was fit for a Public Mass and could help with Confessions. He loved ministry because he loved people and he just wanted to keep getting back to it for as long as he was able, and the people were always delighted to see him reappear. His last appearances in St. Mungo’s were for Father Antony’s ordination and to concelebrate at one of Antony’s first Masses. In truth, he wasn’t able, but he was so determined to be there. His last outing was when Antony drove him down to Irvine to see his ailing sister, a much more mellow passenger at this stage. He saw her and came home, and his sister, Catherine, died the very next day, as if she had waited to see him before she let go. As I write, Catherine is still awaiting burial, and on Wednesday Lawrence passed away in the Marie Curie Hospice.
Rest in Peace
As well as being here to mourn Lawrence’s death and to celebrate his life, we are also here to undertake our Christian duty to give Lawrence back to God, the God from whom he came, the God whom here he served so faithfully and so well, firstly, and for his whole life, as a baptised Catholic; but also as a Passionist Religious, initially, for around 17 years, as a professed Brother, and then from 1981 onwards, just short of 40 years, as an ordained priest, serving God with great dedication, in many different places and in many different ministries, the God to whom Lawrence was always destined to return, our hearts always restless until they rest in God. We’re not going to do justice to that here today in this small gathering, we’ll save that for a later time when this present crisis is over and we can bring together all those whom we mentioned earlier who would have wanted to be here today but can’t, and we will celebrate a memorial Mass for Lawrence.
At the door of the church I sprinkled Lawrence’s coffin with holy water, as a reminder of his baptism, accompanied by the words: “In the waters of baptism Lawrence died with Christ and rose with him to new life, may he now share with Christ eternal glory”. When Lawrence was baptised, back in 1941, 78 years and more ago, he was baptised into Christ’s death and he has quite literally entered into that death now, but he was also baptised into Christ’s resurrection. His death therefore is not a door into eternal darkness, but simply a dark door to pass through into the everlasting light of God’s love where God’s grace and mercy await him. Though he may appear to have died in truth he is now at peace, and ready to enjoy that abundance of God’s goodness and God’s blessings that we heard about in the first reading.
We are reminded of that in this season of Lent, which began on Ash Wednesday, with the signing of ashes, the dust of the earth from which we came and to which we all must return. Lent stirs in us a remembrance Jesus’ death but then leads us on to a celebration of his rising to new life at Easter. And that victory of Jesus over death is a victory that all people of faith are invited to share in, and so we believe that Lawrence, a man of great faith, who meditated on, believed in, and faithfully preached these great mysteries so often as a Passionist, is destined to share that gift of eternal life with God in heaven, his good deeds gone with him, as we heard in the second reading, his many acts of love, compassion and kindness to others, and that, as St. Paul says, is our sure and certain hope.
My first encounter with Lawrence was when he came back from Africa, having decided to take his Passionist vocation in another direction by studying for the priesthood. We had a big student body at that time, over twenty of us, but still we struggled to put together a football team for the seminary league, and so, when it was discovered that Lawrence had previous experience as a goalkeeper, he was coaxed out of retirement to be our own holy goalie, and a good goalie he was too.
If he had any reluctance to do this, my own sense was that it was because he wanted to take his studies very seriously, he really felt called to priesthood, and I can remember him spending long hours in his room poring over his books and his notes from the Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology, just as years later, and indeed in recent times until his sickness took a more debilitating hold a few months ago, I would see him spending long hours in his room, poring over the scriptures for the following Sunday, so as to have something worthwhile to say to the people of God that would be affirming and encouraging. He always wanted to lift people up out of a genuine compassion, and that was something he frequently achieved as people of all kinds felt that Lawrence’s sermons somehow spoke directly to them.
One of the many expressions of condolence I received was from a Scottish Member of Parliament who was always inspired by Lawrence’s homilies. As you know, Lawrence took a keen interest in politics and often wrote to MP’s, especially around issues that he felt strongly about, like abortion, and in a respectful way he left them in no doubt about where he stood and where he thought they should stand. This particular MP was devastated at his death and recalled how delighted Lawrence was at her re-election and how he told her he knew exactly where she sat at Westminster when he watched the debates on TV. She simply said that he was a lovely man, full of much wisdom, and that she was glad that she often took the time to tell him how meaningful his sermons were to her, and I think she would speak for lots of people in that regard.
Another expression of condolence came from, Sister Therese, whom the family know, a Cross and Passion Sister who was with Lawrence in Africa, and especially during his years in Tsabong, the Passionist mission 400 kilometres out into the Kalahari Desert. I visited Lawrence there for Palm Sunday in 1994. He was a much-loved priest there, but I always remember how he had used his skills as an electrician to rig up some kind of solar panel powered contraption to be able to listen to Celtic matches on the radio, even in that far distant place. We don’t have time here to go into his great passion for Celtic, but it was very real. Sister Therese was the last person to speak to Lawrence, on the phone, from the Marie Curie Hospice, the night before he died. In her letter of condolence, she sent me some Kalahari sand from Tsabong that she hoped I could pour into the grave in acknowledgment of those years of service to the church in Botswana, and I will do that.
Another expression of condolence came in a series of emails from some of those younger men who were students at the time Larry came home to study for priesthood, and to whom he became a kind of father figure, or at least an older brother figure. Few of them stayed, they’re all mostly married with children now, even grandchildren, but one of them, possibly the best player we had in our football team at that time, told how he received a lovely and unexpected note from Lawrence on the death of his mother just last year. How did Lawrence know his mother had died? How did he know his address? Such quiet, hidden acts of kindness and compassion were very typical of Lawrence as I’m sure you know.
These are just a few random memories for now. Paul will fill in some family memories later in this Mass. As a Passionist community we will miss him, but we know how much you will miss him too, because we know how much he loved his family, and of the great affection he had for the younger members of the family, especially the children, whom he delighted to see, and whose photographs adorned his room, and there was a mug given to him by Marissa with pictures of Lawrence and the children around it, which had a special place on the shelf of his bookcase.
His last journey out was when Antony, with whom Larry had a lovely relationship of mutual respect and trust, which had not a little to do with that same passion for Celtic, drove him down to Irvine to see Catherine, the second such trip taken in a short space of time, and of course, sadly, Catherine died the following morning. Afterwards he reflected that Catherine was only diagnosed 8 weeks previously, while he was diagnosed 2 years and 4 months previously. Perhaps it was then that he chose to let go. These last two years and four months of Lawrence’s life were an extraordinary journey of courage, determination, faith, and a stubborn refusal to give up, although he always said, and Sister Therese attested to this in her letter, that he had no fear of death, but he didn’t want to die.
Father Gareth, the youngest member of our community, who is in Wales at present looking after his mum, has a habit of saying about all kinds of topics – I could write a book – and I think we could all write a book, indeed many books about Lawrence, but he is now in that place that Christ has prepared for him, a place of no more sickness, suffering, sadness or tears, but simply a place of everlasting life, light, happiness and peace, united with loved ones who have gone before, including his sister Catherine, and awaiting loved ones who will follow after. We bring him now to the threshold of that place, and we take Christ at His word, that he will now come and lead him the rest of the way, into his eternal home. Let us commend him now with our prayers.
FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 15th – 22nd MARCH 2020
On the same day I had to announce to people that all public Masses in Scotland were suspended until further notice, I also had to announce the death of Father Lawrence Byrne CP, a member of our Passionist community here at St. Mungo’s. It was a real double-whammy for people, like a double bereavement, the loss of not being able to gather for the Eucharist, the source and summit of our Christian lives, for God only knows how long; and the loss of a man who was a much loved preacher and confessor, and whose kind and gentle approach endeared him to so many folk who will grieve at the thought of never seeing or hearing him again. I don’t think he realized how much loved he was, perhaps people didn’t tell him enough, but they certainly told us.
Lawrence was born in Irvine during the 2nd World War. On his birth certificate his father is described as an explosives’ worker. Lawrence himself qualified as an electrician but then joined the Passionists in his early 20’s and made his 1st Religious Profession on 8th March 1964. He spent many years in Botswana as a Passionist Brother but in the mid-1970’s he decided to return home and study for priesthood. That meant we were students together in Dublin and during that time Lawrence was persuaded by his confreres to come out of sporting retirement to take up his position as a goalkeeper when we were struggling to put a team together for the Seminary League, and a fine goalkeeper he was too. He was the original Holy Goalie. Lawrence loved his football and especially he loved Glasgow Celtic. Before he joined the Passionists he had attended Celtic’s famous 7-1 victory over Rangers in the 1957 League Cup Final, and his account of that day was submitted and included in Pat Woods’ book recalling that memorable event, “Oh! Hampden in the Sun”.
During one of our Seminary League games in the late 1970’s, when Lawrence was in goals and I was playing Right Back, I took a knock on the leg making a pass-back and I shouted to him not to throw the ball back out to me. Unfortunately, he did, and I made a poor clearance from which the opposition scored. He was not a happy goalie. Forty years later I was driving from Bishopbriggs to St. Mungo’s with Lawrence in the passenger seat and, believe me, he was not a good passenger. Turning into Baird Street I made a manoeuvre which Lawrence didn’t appreciate. He turned to me with a glare and said to me through gritted teeth; “You’re as bad a driver as you were a Right Back” – some things are never forgotten. Of course, Lawrence himself was a notoriously slow driver. When Father Pat Rogers was in St. Mungo’s preaching the Novena of Hope in September 2017, Lawrence gave him a lift to the Passionist Retreat Centre at Minsteracres in County Durham where Pat was due to give a seminar. As Pat describes it; “It was a long, slow journey, for Larry was reluctant to bypass any other vehicle no matter how slowly it was travelling. It took me about six minutes to persuade him to pass a tractor, on a long, straight stretch of road, 30 miles East of Carlisle”.
Lawrence was diagnosed with an aggressive Cancer a few months after that, in December 2017. The next two years and more were an extraordinary journey of courage and determination. Time and again, just when you thought he had reached the end, he would somehow rally and say that he was fit for a Public Mass and could help with Confessions. He loved ministry because he loved people and he just wanted to keep getting back to it for as long as he was able, and the people were always delighted to see him reappear. His last appearances in St. Mungo’s were for Father Antony’s ordination and to concelebrate at one of Antony’s first Masses. In truth, he wasn’t able, but he was so determined to be there. His last outing was when Antony drove him down to Irvine to see his ailing sister, a much more mellow passenger at this stage. He saw her and came home, and his sister, Catherine, died the very next day, as if she had waited to see him before she let go. As I write, Catherine is still awaiting burial, and on Wednesday Lawrence passed away in the Marie Curie Hospice.
Rest in Peace
