Father Hugh Douglas SDB

The Homily for the funeral of Fr Hugh Douglas
Thornleigh Chapel 17th June 2007

In today's gospel of the beatitudes, Jesus blesses all the many ways of
being human. I would like to set the tone for today's service with a
quotation from the Servant of God, the Salesian, Fr Joseph Quadrio, he
wrote:

"Faith sheds on death a soft and gentle light. For a Christian, death is
not the end but the beginning; the beginning of the true life, the gate which
opens onto eternity. It is like hearing from behind the barbed wire of a
concentration camp the longed-for announcement: "You are going home".
Dying is like pushing open the half-closed door of a house and saying: "Dad,
here I am, I'm home!" It is a leap in the dark, it is true, but with the
certainty of falling into the arms of the heavenly Father."

Today is not a day of mourning but rather rejoicing, our brother Hughie is
home at last. His long life of teaching, serving and suffering is now
over, we have every reason to rejoice.

Let's begin here in Bolton. Hughie was born in November 1919, baptised
just down the road in Holy Infants Church, attended this school of Thornleigh
and was professed as a Salesian in August 1937, ordained in 1947 at Blaisdon
in Gloucestershire. He began his teaching as a Brother in Chertsey, then
spent two years teaching in Burwash in Sussex. He managed to obtain a degree
during his teaching years, time off for full-time study had not been
invented in those days. Geography was his lasting love, a fellow of the
Royal Society of Geographers

To know what he was like in his early Salesian days we need to talk to
those who knew him at that time. In Burwash, he taught a boy called Daniel Hart,
who later became a priest in the Glasgow archdiocese. He has been a friend
of Hughie for 60 years. He retires this weekend from the parish of St
Helen's, Langside Avenue, Glasgow. His retirement celebrations prevent him from
coming today. He visited Hughie in St Joseph's just a few months ago. I
rang him yesterday to ask about his days in Burwash and he spoke most warmly of
those days and of his 60 years of friendship with Hugh. He was telling me
that evidently because of the war some of the pupils had to spend their
Summer holidays at school. Surprisingly, these were the days Mgr Hart
remembers with the greatest joy, long summer days spend on the farm. In
those days, the Brothers took care of the boys. I could never imagine
Hughie as a farmer but according to Fr Hart, they milked the cows, helped with
the harvest and chased rats round the cornfield. I suppose 'Risk Assessment'
takes on a different meaning when there are German planes flying overhead.
I mention these memories of one of Hughie's best friends, because I never
knew him in his really active days. I have only known a man in his eighties,
but Hughie was a priest who taught in schools for more years than most
Salesians. A man who for 17 years cycled each morning before school, over
Battersea Bridge, to say Mass for the Spanish Sisters in Rowland Gardens,
would come back to school and check his rainfall gauge before going to
teach. I hope our recent lavish blessing with rain is no tribute to his
rain gauge memory.

A few days ago, one of his pupils at Battersea in the 50s, Nick Potter,
wrote, It is something of a comfort to know that Hughie is now freed from
his physical suffering. I have circulated as many of the year of 1954 as
possible to let them know of the passing of our old form master and
geography teacher. We grieve for him, but give deep thanks for the life of
a 'true Christian gentleman' (a tribute I received today from one of the
class '54) He was a popular and well-regarded Salesian, held in great affection
by many. I would dearly love to be at Thornleigh on the day but the logistics
make it impossible. Hopefully the weight of our prayers will guide him to
his eternal rest Please convey my sympathies and that of all Hugh's former
Battersea pupils to his confreres in Bolton."

Hugh's life is clearly divided into teaching, serving, and suffering. He
taught for over 40 years, served the Thornleigh community, as bursar, for
17 years and suffered retirement for 5 years. Hughie was always justifiably
most proud of his long years of teaching, real Salesian work for which the
province is most appreciative.

I think his 17 years serving his community, as bursar, are also a tribute
to him. Being bursar in a religious house is not easy. I know one Rector for
whom Cash & Carry was his Calvary. We are all experts at other people's
jobs, we can all think of better ways in which a bursar's job might be
done. I only knew Hughie at the end of his bursar days; in fact I took over from
him as bursar. However, I trust the judgement of those who worked with him
and I think one story might serve as a clear indication of the way they
appreciated him. Yesterday it rained heavily and the school students were
in this chapel for assembly. Janet and Julie who worked with Hughie for all
those 17 years said to me "We're going into the chapel to clean it up for
the funeral." They spent 2 hours cleaning, hoovering, dusting, polishing.
This is not their job, they were busy preparing the buffet for today, but
I think it speaks volumes for their love of Fr Douglas, the finest bouquet
from genuine friends who appreciated him. I think Hughie would probably
have come out with one of his Latin tags perhaps "Res non verba." "Deeds speak
louder than words."

The sad time for Hughie came when he had to accept retirement from being
bursar. While many people look forward to retirement, he dreaded the
thought of it. It is tempting to gloss over these last few years, but I feel we
need to recognise them, for in a strange way for him they were formative, they
were very significant in his life. Hughie's life had been defined by
activity, by his job. He now had to enter into a phase of passivity. W H
Vanstone, in his book The Stature of Waiting, reflects on this important
phase in all our lives:
"So when man waits upon the world - waits even for things so commonplace
as food or sunrise or the relief of pain - the image of God is by no means
absent from him or imperceptible to him. God also waits; and it is in
waiting that He invests the world with the possibility and power of
meaning."

This last phase of waiting or suffering is no reflection on the quality of
care he received both in St Joseph's and recently in the Willows Nursing
Home. We all know how wonderfully well he was looked after by Brother
Michael and the staff of St Joseph's - real loving care. I also know that
Brother Michael and Sylvia were thrilled when the Willows Nursing Home
offered him a place. As Vanstone reminds us, we have stressed, over the
years, our role as 'fellow workers with God' perhaps this understanding of
our role needs to be balanced by the perception of our role as 'fellow
receivers with God - fellow sufferers with God'. Christ's passion set the
pattern. I feel that Hughie's last lesson for us is to recognise this role
in our lives.

I would like to conclude with a refection, which Fr Carette made last
night.

Fr Carette recalls:

I have the happiest of memories bringing Hughie Holy Communion just a
fortnight ago. As always, we would say "How are you?" He would give that
distinctive loud greeting. "I'm fine! I'm absolutely fine!" Of course, he
wasn't fine but he was gentlemanly enough not to show his pain, not to
inflict his pain on us. So early, last Sunday morning, when Hughie pushed
open the half-closed door of eternity and said: "Dad, here I am, I'm
home!" I am sure the Lord himself said, "Hughie, now you're fine! Absolutely
fine! Come along now and enjoy that place I have prepared for you."

Amen

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