Bishop Leo O’Reilly’s Homily
at the Funeral Mass of Fr Peter McPartlan PP, Ballintemple
St Michael’s Church, Potahee, Co. Cavan, 24 April 2012
We have gathered in grief today to bid our final farewell to Fr Peter McPartlan. He was a big man, with a big heart, and he touched the lives of a big number of people. That is evident from the crowds here today and yesterday evening, and the constant stream of visitors who came to see him over the past year or more during his illness. It is evident too from the number of people who came to pay their respects to him in the parochial house over the past couple of days – among them his former parish priest in Castletara, Cardinal Seán Brady.
I know that Fr Peter was greatly loved in this parish and in every parish he served in: Birmingham, Cavan, Newtown Manor, Drumreilly, Castleara, Drumlane and here in Ballintemple. He had his own unique style of priesthood. He had no pretentions to being an expert in theology or in theories about pastoral ministry. But he had an unerring instinct for what was really important in the work of a priest. He didn’t parade his prayer life, but he was very devoted to it and especially to the breviary, the Prayer of the Church. His sermons were short, but they were well prepared and always down to earth and to the point.
Fr Peter’s ministry very much in tune with the Word of God in the first reading: “He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to bind up hearts that are broken, to comfort all those who mourn…” He had a great ministry to the sick and the dying and the bereaved. I don’t know how many people have told me about his visits to their parents or grandparents or relatives when they were sick or when they were mourning the death of a family member. All of them said how much his visits meant to them.
As well as being full-time parish priest here he often did duty as a part-time chaplain in Cavan General Hospital. He was loved there too and he was always available to help when he was needed. Many years ago Pope Paul VI said that a priest is to be a man who transmits Christian joy. Fr Peter certainly did that. With his mischievous sense of humour and quick-witted ripostes, Fr Peter invariably brought laughter and good cheer to the people he met.
What stands out about Fr Peter’s life as a priest is the number of people he knew and who knew him. As priests we try to model our lives on Christ, the Good Shepherd. “I am the good shepherd. I know my own sheep and my own know me…” Fr Peter knew his people here in Ballintemple and they knew him because he visited them, and it was the same in all the other parishes he was in before, and indeed in many parishes besides. He ranged far and wide and, for him, parish or diocesan boundaries were less important than people. And he was still visiting parishioners here up to a week before he died.
Fr Peter wasn’t a man for judging people. He took people as he found them, accepted them where they were. He couldn’t help looking down at most people because of his sheer size, but he never looked down on them. I think the secret of his ministry was that he was a humble man, a man aware of his own frailties and one who could sympathise with the frailties and weaknesses of others. He was in touch with whole constituencies of people that most of us priests would never meet or minister to. He was as much at home at a football match or a race course or in a pub as he was in the Church or the sacristy.
I’m told Fr Peter is still remembered in Newtown Manor for his exploits on the football field, and that’s nearly forty years ago. He won a number of senior county medals as a club player in those days. He was also outstanding as a county player for his native Leitrim and liked nothing better than to meet up with some of his former team mates or opponents from other counties to reminisce about their meetings on the field of play. His physical courage as a player was matched later in life by his tremendous moral courage and determination in overcoming his alcohol addiction. He never denied that part of his life and could speak about it easily and humorously. He kept in touch with many of his former associates from those days and he had a real ministry that very few were aware of in helping others who were trying to make the first steps to recovery.
A colleague of mine said in a homily on a similar occasion to this a couple of years ago: “In life timing is a great gift”. As a centre field player, Fr Peter would have known the importance of timing the jump to catch a kick-out. As a man with a passing interest in horses he’d appreciate the skill of a good jockey timing the run to the finish. He must have wondered and been puzzled about God’s timing in calling him home when he was really in his stride in ministry and still had so much to give. We wonder and are troubled too. His leaving us is a great loss. But what is not in our plan is sometimes in God’s. We have to trust that God knows best and that perhaps his plan is that Fr Peter’s example will inspire some young people here today to consider giving their lives to serve others in the priesthood as he did.
We offer our deepest sympathy to his sisters Maura and Margaret, his brothers Sean, Eddie, Seamus, Joe, Vincent, and Hugh, to his sisters and brothers-in-law, his nephews and nieces and their families; to his devoted friend Miriam, and to so many others who were such supports to him, especially in his final illness, and to all his friends and parishioners. I had a phone call from Fr Kevin O’Neill, the rector of Carlow College, where Fr Peter studied for the priesthood. He couldn’t be here today, but he asked me to convey his sympathy and that of his colleagues to Fr Peter’s family and friends. We will all miss him. He is somebody about whom you can truly say: Ní bheidh a leithéad ann arís. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.
