EULOGY FOR FATHER DENIS HANLY, MM
29th August 1932 – 26th October 2014
Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Hong Kong
20th October 2024
By Michael Charnock

It was a Wednesday night, sometime in 1983. I was in one of the boxes at Happy Valley Racecourse and for the life of me I couldn’t pick a winner. Then, the friend who’d invited me there introduced me to one of his other guests.

He turned out to be a catholic priest. So, seizing the opportunity, I asked him to bless my betting tickets … half joking of course.

But he wasn’t the least bit fazed – to the contrary, he was amused by my request, explaining that blessings were normally reserved for items such as crucifixes, holy images, rosaries, candles, scapulars and that blessings for betting tickets … “Isn’t really a thing, Michael.”

I immediately warmed to him. And when he told me his parish was in Chi Fu Fa Yuen – and just around the corner from where I lived in Block 2 – I started to believe there was a greater purpose for me being at the race track that night.

And I was right. Because that was the start of a friendship with Father Hanly that would go on for more than 30 years. Over that time, he brought me into the fullness of the Church, he officiated at my wedding to Emma; he baptised my two boys; he commissioned me as a Eucharistic Minister. At St Joseph’s, he conducted a memorial service for my mother. On top of that, we met up regularly for meals or to go and watch a movie. Father loved movies.

In short, there is no way I can repay him for a fraction of what he did for me. And I suspect I’m not the only one here who feels that way. After all, each of us has our own fond personal recollections of times spent with him.

Father Denis Hanly was more than a good priest, though. He was a good man. There is no way I can do justice to his memory in a short eulogy – the depth and richness of his work as a missionary priest of the Maryknoll order, makes that impossible. The best I can do is scratch the surface of a life deeply dedicated to Jesus and to the service of his flock.

A scripture scholar, well-versed in philosophy, he possessed that rare quality of a gifted intellect … humbly dressed – an endearing quality; a quality that permeated throughout his homilies. Homilies that still resonate today. I don’t know what it’s like now, but back then this church was packed every Sunday Mass. And – dare I say it … the main reason for that was Father’s homilies. Relatable and relevant, their teaching and the understanding of their significance lasted well beyond the Final Blessing. His time at Our Lady of Lourdes marks a golden period in the life of this parish.

Father Hanly may have been born in Brooklyn, New York, but his soul was Irish to its root. And it was in that esteemed missionary tradition that he lived and worked as a priest. Over the course of 55 years, whether in Taiwan, in China Town, New York, or in parishes across Hong Kong, he performed his ministry with a light touch – subtle yet lasting. I believe many, if not all of us here, are recipients of that touch.

Father was born in 1932 – the year the Mars Bar was first produced and Goofy made his Disney debut. But it was also the early part of the Great Depression – the longest and deepest economic slump in US history which wouldn’t subside until 1941.

So, as a young boy, Father knew the meaning of austerity; of never having quite enough. He’d witnessed it and – with his family – had experienced it first-hand. So, when he worked among villagers in rural Taiwan or among Chinese, Irish and Italian immigrants in New York’s teeming Lower East Side – all people at the struggling end of the economic scale – he understood the difficulties they contended with. Not just the economic difficulties, but the strains they caused in other areas of people’s lives.

Compassion for the sufferings of others, then, was a defining aspect of Father’s nature – and there’s no doubt in my mind, that his experience as a child of the Great Depression, fostered that and shaped his priestly mission.

Ten years have passed since Father left us. From time to time, I think about him – and particularly about the loss of this very special priest. As, again, I’m sure we all do.

But then I remember a story he liked to tell. He told it to me when I went to see him after my mother died.

It was about the young Buddha. He was in his father’s garden, shooting arrows with his cousin. Seeing a bird fly overhead, the cousin aimed at it and the arrow hit its mark causing the bird to fall to the ground. The two boys raced towards it. The young Buddha, getting their first, picked up the bird, removed the arrow and released the bird into the air.

“Why did you do that?” said the cousin angrily. “That was my bird!”

“No,” said the young Buddha. “The bird does not belong to you. The bird belongs to the one who gave the bird life.”

We are blessed to have known this man. I’m sure I speak collectively when I say our lives are noticeably poorer for him no longer being in them. Although, he is obviously still with us. Because that, after all, is why we’re all here right now.

I’m sure it’s the prayer of each of us that Father Hanly – our priest and our friend – enjoy the eternal rest he has so thoroughly earned.