An Irish Blessing
Homily for the Funeral Mass of Father Jack O’Shea of the Diocese of Yakima,
September 18th, 2026, at St. Paul Cathedral
Isaiah 25: 6a, 7-9; Romans 8:31b-35; 37-39; John 11:17-27
Most Reverend Joseph J. Tyson, Bishop of Yakima
Peace be with you!
Father Jack O’Shea wanted Father John Murtagh to preach his funeral homily. But he’s already dead! We celebrated his funeral a few years ago! So, I am a second-stringer here. But there is nothing second-string about Father O’Shea’s selection of this Gospel for his funeral Mass.
Our Gospel from Saint John uplifts the fundamental belief we hold as Christians: The bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ and our share in the bodily resurrection from the dead as followers of Jesus Christ.
Jesus articulates this basic belief to Martha at the death of her beloved brother Lazarus. Straight up, Jesus tells Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Martha’s response is equally key. She assents: “Yes Lord. I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world.”
So much of our Christian belief about life, death, and life after death revolves around this exchange between Jesus and Martha. And it is in light of this belief that we can see how Father Jack O’Shea’s life pointed us to the life of Christ.
As bishop I want to uplift two key instances he and his ministry pointed us to the life of Christ.
The first came shortly after my arrival as bishop. Father O’Shea was living in the Holy Spirit rectory with Monsignor Perron Auve at the time. Father O’Shea had retired as pastor of Holy Spirit and was only too glad to let Monsignor Auve take the reins. In one of my earliest conversations with him, he pulled up photos from early Cursillos here in the Yakima Valley. As so many of you know, he was deeply committed to the Cursillo movement. An Irish missionary, he learned enough Spanish so that he could be a missionary to everyone.
Indeed, those early black-and-white photos from Father O’Shea showed Cursillo retreats that brought together Spanish- and English-speakers. I looked at those photos and thought to myself, that is where we all need to be. We all need to be in the same photo – Spanish and English – young and old – farmer and farmworker. We form the One Body of Christ. How can we be in the same photo today?
Cursillo as you know comes from the Spanish language and it means “a short course,” and the retreat experience itself is meant to be a “short course” in Christianity. Over the years, I think about other friends who have died, such as Ricardo Garcia, a key founder of Radio KDNA in Granger, and Deacon Berney Alvarado from Toppenish, who before his death recalled his time with Bishop Dougherty in the Lower Valley. They all got their start with Cursillo. That “small course” in Christianity animated the myriad ways they followed Jesus as “Cursillistas” into the complexity of their various daily lives of service.
Let me pivot to a second key instance of Father Jack O’Shea’s life, pointing to the life of Christ. And that would be prayer.
As Father O’Shea aged, he found his prayer life changing. Quite honestly, he found it difficult to navigate the Liturgy of the Hours. As many of you know, we priests and religious make a promise to pray the cycle of psalms, scriptures and readings in the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours. He felt guilty about not being able to pray the Liturgy of the Hours the way he used to as a younger priest.
I cited the wise advice of Saint Teresa of Avila who once told one of her followers, “Pray as you can. Not as you ought.” We had this discussion several times, which suggested to me that my quote from Saint Teresa was not taking hold. I did dispense him from the obligation to pray the Liturgy of the Hours as long as he prayed as he could. I also had to repeat this dispensation several times. Finally, I had our office put together a letter with a bright diocesan seal as an official act of dispensation. I think that he received it well because I never heard back from him.
But there is a story in Jesuit Father Sonny Manuel’s book, “Living Celibacy,” that tells of an elderly Jesuit who had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning – let alone getting up for the Liturgy of the Hours. He elevated his arms from his bed and simply said, “Lord help me up!” Commenting on this, Father Sonny Manuel noted that this act of prayer showed a kind of directness and intimacy with the Lord.
Father Jack O’Shea’s desire to pray, his desire to grapple with his difficulty with the Liturgy of the Hours, was his own act of prayer. As a different writer, the Cistercian monk Father Isaac Slater notes, the opposite of judgment based on the law is not laxity. It is mercy. Mercy grows when we are transparent before God, when we are able in our own weak moments to ask God to give us a hand in getting ourselves up.
Raising up. This is the point of the exchange between Martha and Jesus. Father Jack O’Shea wanted to follow Jesus in being raised up. The alignment of this Gospel from Saint John back to the opening reading from Isaiah suggests we are raised up to a banquet “…a feast of fat meats, a feast of wine, of choice fat meats and of wine purified by the lee.”
Paragraph 1000 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church refers to the Eucharist as the “foretaste of the resurrection.” We give thanks at this Eucharist for the gift of Father Jack O’Shea, for his setting the Lord’s banquet table, for his leading us to Jesus who is the resurrection and life, for giving us through his ministry a foretaste of what is to come. So, Fr. O’Shea, we give you the blessing you cited many times for all of us:
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
Funeral Homily for Father Jack O’Shea, Priest of the Diocese of Yakima