Dom
Dominic Blaney
January 27th 2010
“There is one thing I ask of the Lord, for this I long, to live in the
house of the Lord all the days of my life, to savour the sweetness of the Lord,
to behold his temple.” These wonderful words are from today’s Responsorial
Psalm. They express what we all know to have been at the very heart of Fr
Dominic’s faith. He could have written them himself, for they are the summary
of his prayer, the fullest expression of his desire.
It’s fashionable today no longer to speak of a Requiem Mass. It’s
quite usual to be invited to “celebrate the life” of whoever it is, lying
there in the coffin. We should, of course, celebrate the lives of the faithful
departed, but what we remember above all is their faith in Jesus Christ, who
offered the sacrifice of his life upon the Cross and who rose from the dead to
break open for us the gates of heaven, inviting us to see the face of God and so
return to the very source of our being. No matter how good we might be, and Fr
Dominic was very good, a just man in the biblical sense, we still need the
prayers of our brethren and loved ones in death as we did in life. We pray
today, believing as we do in the resurrection of the dead and life everlasting,
that God in his merciful love will grant him the eternal rest for which he
longed.
Today’s readings were chosen from the Lectionary because they help us
to understand the depth of Fr Dominic’s faith, the integrity of his Christian
life and his total commitment to the Benedictine vocation. The Book of Wisdom
tells us that, “They who trust in God will understand the truth, those who are
faithful will live with him in love; for grace and mercy await those he has
chosen.” All who knew Fr Dominic as a schoolboy or young monk, as a house
master or head master, or parish priest speak of his trust in God, that basic,
fundamental, non-questioning, traditional Catholic faith, into which he was born
and raised and from which he never strayed, no matter how difficult life became.
Trust in God and fidelity to the Church marked Fr Dominic’s life from
beginning to end.
But
there was something more: an extraordinary humility. “The Lord is my light and
my help; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; before whom
shall I shrink,” sings the psalmist. Humility is grounded in reality. Fr
Dominic had no pretensions, no complexes. He was comfortable with himself, calm
and at peace, because he knew where he stood before God and that God was
everything to him. We have all inherited original sin from our forefathers, but
Fr Dominic was one of those rare men in whom this sin was least apparent. There
was a purity of heart that was out of the ordinary and in stark contrast to
those around him, to those with whom he lived and worked. We all experienced
this unique gift of God as it showed itself time and time again in his kindness
and gentleness, the simplicity and unclutteredness of his life, the very
ordinariness and quiet efficiency with which he did everything, never boasting,
never lording it over others, but reflecting the peace and generosity of God.
James
Blaney, or Jim as he was known to everyone, was born in St Begh’s Parish,
Whitehaven, the eldest child of John and Mary at the beginning of Advent 1929.
His family lived less than a stone’s throw from the magnificent parish church.
Whitehaven, not far from the medieval Priory of St. Bees, had been an English
Benedictine mission since 1701and in 1929 was still an incorporated parish of
Downside. In 1934 it was transferred to Belmont, so from the age of five it was
Belmont monks that Jim, like his parents and sisters, came to know and love. He
was a pupil at St Patrick and St Gregory’s, Quay Street, until he went to St
Bede’s College, Manchester, in 1942. He was brought up in a world that has,
sadly, all but disappeared: a staunchly Catholic home, parish and school.
Although in later life he would become politely ecumenical and make friends with
non-Catholic ministers, he was unflinching in his Catholic convictions. It was
fascinating to see how, towards the end of his life, when Alzheimer’s was
taking its toll, how he could remember Latin prayers and chants, the Salve
Regina, for example, whereas he had lost even the Lord’s Prayer in English.
Now
Whitehaven is rugby league country, but at St Bede’s Jim fell in love with
soccer and became a key player in every team throughout his school career. In
the sixth form the First XI were trained by Matt Busby and Johnny Carey of
Manchester United. They saw in Jim, who was captain of the team, a first class
player with a good future in the game. But it was Manchester City that he was to
support for the rest of his life. In the years ahead Jim would turn his hand to
every ball game going, both as player and coach. In fact, he didn’t consider
ball-less games as real sport. However, he had been sent to St Bede’s (where,
incidentally, he was taught French by George Patrick Dwyer, future Bishop of
Leeds and Archbishop of Birmingham) because he felt called to the priesthood and
religious life. So when he left school in 1948 he came to Belmont. As it turned
out, there was another teenager on the train from Manchester to Hereford that
day going to Belmont to try his vocation. It was Charles Holdsworth, who would
become Fr Stephen. Everything in life is part of God’s plan for us: Stephen
was the first person Dominic met when he came to Belmont and the last he saw,
just two days before he died, and they were to remain close friends.
Jim
was clothed on 14th September 1948 by Abbot Anselm Lightbound and
given the name Dominic, not after St Dominic, founder of the Dominicans, as most
people think, but in honour of the Italian Passionist priest Blessed Dominic
Barberi, who received Newman into the Church. He made his first profession on 15th
September 1949 and his solemn profession, also at the hands of Abbot Anselm, on
St Michael’s Day 1952. In spite of the precarious financial situation at
Belmont, Dominic was sent up to Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, to read History.
He took his M.A. but was remembered more for his sporting achievements.
Philosophy and theology were studied here at Belmont, combining those studies
with teaching in the school and coaching sports. Typical of Dominic, he changed
over without a murmur and with great success from round ball to oval ball though
in his heart of hearts he always preferred football.
Dominic
was ordained to the Sacred Priesthood by Bishop Pearson at St. Begh’s on 2nd
May 1954. The assistant master of ceremonies on the great day was a young man
called William McKenzie Moore, Billy for short, the future Fr Bede. It was that
ordination that set him thinking seriously about a Benedictine vocation. After
ordination, and in obedience to a succession of abbots, Dominic worked in our
schools: Alderwasley, Belmont and Llanarth for 33 years until he became Parish
Priest of Belmont and Subprior in 1986. He taught history and coached rugby,
tennis, squash, cricket, golf, table tennis and badminton. He was not the most
inspired or original of teachers, but he never missed a class, nor did he ever
miss a trick. As a young man he had served as secretary to two head masters:
Abbot Alphege Gleeson and Fr Christopher McNulty. He served at Alderwasley from
1955 to 57 and then at Junior House. He was house master of Vaughan and then of
Kindersley. In fact, I succeeded him in Kindersley in January 1976, when he
returned to Llanarth for a second period as head master. This move back to
Llanarth was not easy for him. When he was asked to go back by Abbot Jerome, he
broke down and wept bitterly but he obeyed. What marked Dominic out from the
rest of us was that he always obeyed, even when it hurt. He never complained and
always did his duty and his very best. He was head master of Llanarth from 1967
to 1971 and from 1976 to 1986.
The
many letters I have received from staff and pupils are a testimony to the strong
affection in which he is held by so many and of the gratitude for his many
kindnesses. He was a warm, gentle and affectionate man and, to many, a real
father. Of course, on the pitch or in the court, it was quite another story.
Dominic would not and could not lose a ball game. He underwent a radical
transformation once out of his habit and into his kit. Just because he was kind
and gentle, it didn’t mean that he was weak or evasive, anything but. He had a
very strong sense of justice and of correct behaviour. He would stand no
nonsense, either from the boys or from his brethren. He had a clear tenor voice
and was a cantor for many years. One morning he confronted the fearsome
choirmaster, Fr Bernard Chambers, in the presence of the brethren. That day Dom
Bernard also happened to be the superior in choir, so there was a constant
re-pitching of the note. As often happened in those days, choir was a battle
ground. Dominic turned round and said to Fr Bernard, “Why don’t you grow up
and start praying instead of giving us that note none of us can reach.” The
outburst reduced everyone to silence, even Dom Bernard. Dominic, in his quiet
and disarming way, wasn’t afraid to stand up and oppose powerful characters in
the community and he always spoke his mind, though with courtesy and a twinkle
in his eye. He had a good sense of humour and was a tease. He was honest and
straightforward. There was no side, no deception. As Jesus said of Nathaniel, he
was a man “without guile.”
In
1986 he became Parish Priest of Belmont, where he also served the Community as
Subprior. Then he was appointed Parish Priest of Abergavenny. In both parishes
he was much loved and appreciated for those same human qualities and Christian
virtues he had shown to the boys and staff in our schools. He was faithful and
assiduous in his parish duties and particularly as chaplain to the various
hospitals in and around Abergavenny. However, it was here that the first signs
of Alzheimer’s appeared. Gradual loss of memory and other manifestations of
that cruel illness made it impossible for him to continue and early in 2000 he
was brought back to Belmont by Abbot Mark. To begin with he was able to join in
the life of the Community, but little by little this became more and more
difficult. He was cared for by Br. Bernard and Mary Jo Donnelly, who at the time
were also looking after Fr Aelred in the Infirmary. It was not easy with
Dominic, because you never knew what he was going to do next. On one occasion,
while in Hereford Hospital for tests, he signed himself out, got into a taxi and
returned to Belmont in his pyjamas. On another he was found at Lock’s garage
at six o’clock in the morning, having walked the four miles along the
Abergavenny road in the dark. On yet another occasion he went missing a whole
day. That evening he was found in a bus shelter at Altringham, a short distance
from his sister Kathleen’s house. With no money in his pocket he had gone down
to Hereford station, caught a train to Manchester and then a bus. Eventually, we
were advised that he needed fulltime nursing care. This resulted in him going
into a nursing home not far from Weobley. It was here that we celebrated the
Golden Jubilee of his priesthood. Then for the last years of his life he took up
residence at Oakland’s Nursing Home where he was well cared for by Matron
Pamela Newman and her excellent team until the Lord took him suddenly but
peacefully and painlessly early on the afternoon of January 14th. It
was a blessing that his physical sufferings were few.
Alzheimer’s
and other forms of dementia are, of course, a great mystery to us, difficult to
understand and hard to accept. We are helpless and can do nothing to prevent
what is taking place before our very eyes to a loved one whom we have known to
be so active and intelligent. You see everything being taken away, disappearing
bit by bit. Though he was eighty
when he died, Dominic looked much younger. It was impossible to know what he
made of our attempts at conversation, and yet it was clear that enjoyed company
and, above all, that he still liked his food, especially anything sweet. I
remember one birthday Br Bernard bought a delicious carrot cake in Tesco’s on
the way to Oaklands. Once we’d greeted him, Bernard cut three small slices,
one each, but Dominic just took the rest of the cake and ate it in a flash. He
was still too quick for us. For a long time you could pray with him and give him
Holy Communion, but eventually he stopped taking an interest in our prayers and
blessings. Even so, when you looked into those penetrating blue eyes, you got
the distinct impression that he could see right through you and, just
occasionally, there was a flash of the old Dominic
As
Christians how can we begin to understand? I think the words of St Paul to the
Romans can help us penetrate the veil of this particular form of suffering.
“Neither life nor death, nothing at all can come between us and the love of
God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Our relationship with God is not a
matter of the mind but of the heart: the soul is undiminished by the
disintegration of mind and body. St
John tells us that the Father glorified the Son in his passion and death and
that the Father was glorified in the Cross of Jesus. In his suffering Fr Dominic
glorified God and in turn God will glorify him with the gift of eternal life
once the purification of Purgatory is done. Jesus did not say to the good thief,
“I will lessen your torments and take away your suffering and death.” No,
Jesus died alongside both thieves. He shared their suffering and total
degradation, he shared their pain and anguish, their agony and death. When
asked, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replied,
“Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Dominic’s cross lasted not an
afternoon but ten years. There can be no doubt that Jesus will keep his promise,
“Today, dear Dominic, faithful and true, you will be with me in paradise.”
Amen