In the autumn of 2004, shortly after I returned to the Diocese of Helena, Father Tom Haffey hosted a welcome dinner at his rectory at St. Ann Parish in Butte.

Seated around the table was a collection of venerable senior clergy, whose names and faces are known and revered by generations of Catholics. It took only moments for me to realize that I was in the presence of great men, and was soon to experience one of the most memorable evenings I have ever experienced in our Diocese.

In addition to Father Haffey and Father John Robertson were Msgr. Anthony Brown and Father Gregory Burke, along with Fathers Tom Fenloren, Ernie Burns, Jim McCarthy and, of course, the inimitable Sarsfield O Sullivan.

As the evening ensued, so did the conversation and laughter, the blarney and banter. It was a night of tall tales, anecdotes and guffaws, intermixed with large infusions of opinion and commentary about the state of the union, and the state of the Diocese. Around that table was a veritable cast of characters, to be sure, but also 300 years of pastoral experience, distilled wisdom and history, with Father Sarsfield O Sullivan presiding over the group as elder statesman and brother to all.

From that evening on, I bonded deeply with these wonderful men and was received by them with tenderness and care.

For the past six years, I have savored special moments with each of them, men who have contributed so selflessly to the care of the people and the building up of the Body of Christ. The home at 410 N. Western Ave. in Butte, Father Sars’s residence, became a special destination each time I visited the city.

Think of it! This cadre of beloved priests served under six Bishops, ministered to tens of thousands of parishioners and witnessed dramatic change and upheaval within Church and society, all the while remaining faithful to the Lord and to the Church into the twilight of their lives, giving all of us an example and witness to follow.

John Patrick Sarsfield O Sullivan was born in Butte on Nov. 12, 1924. The decade into which he was born, and the years that followed, deeply influenced and formed this gifted and unique individual.

In a single lifetime, he and his contemporaries witnessed a dramatic change that read more like fiction than fact.

The 1920s ushered in many developments in popular culture and society. The year 1924 saw the inaugural issues of Reader’s Digest, Time magazine and The New Yorker. The latter was Father Sars’s favorite, by far.

Writers Eugene O’Neill, Hermann Melville and William Faulkner were in their heydays, and Robert Frost made his debut. In 1924, George Gershwin performed his own “Rhapsody in Blue” at the Aoelian Hall in New York City, and in the same decade, light opera became the rage in New York, touching the masses of people through 78 records and the windup gramophone. Popular and perennial songs, such as “I’ll See You in My Dreams,” “Sweet Georgia Brown” and “Yes Sir, That’s my Baby,” filled the evening airwaves on the wireless. These developments in popular culture affected Sarsfield O Sullivan deeply.

From 1924 to 2010, the world went from telegraph to Twitter, from the dirigible to the intercontinental ballistic missile, from crank telephone to instant communication, from Model T to SUV, from rural roads to superhighways, from an average lifespan of 58 years to a present-day lifespan of nearly 80 and counting. This same generation lived at a time when radio was king, and 2.5 million families listened nightly to Groucho Marx, Fibber Magee and Molly, and “The Shadow Knows.” In sports, the Notre Dame football team dominated the gridiron under leadership of the famous Knute Rockne.

The people of this generation witnessed major advances in medicine, science, and technology. They heard new words, among them Google, Yahoo, CT, MRI, iPod, iPad and e-mail. In 1924, Sarsfield was born into a post- World War I society of relative peace. But in the span of a single lifetime, people witnessed a second great war; scarring conflicts in Korea, Vietnam and the Middle East; and genocide in Europe, Africa and Southeast Asia. In that 80-year period, they saw conventional weaponry morph into the terrifying nightmare of nuclear arms and lawless terrorism.

Seated around that dining table in Butte was a generation of priests who presided over parishes during the social upheaval of the 1960s, the kaleidoscope of Haight-Ashbury, the drug culture and the assassinations of JFK, RFK and MLK.

On their watch, the priests seated around that table helped people embrace a high drama and renewal of the Second Vatican Council and its effects on liturgy, religious life, parish governance and the expanding role of the laity. So, too, they helped the ordinary parishioner connect worship and social justice as Catholic Social Teaching emerged as another powerful priority of the Second Vatican Council.

Father Sarsfield’s was a generation that witnessed high drama and change beyond measure, yet was able to retain its moorings by the strong anchors of family, faith and values that stood the test of time.

In Butte, Montana, Josephine and Sean O Sullivan gave their children a deep reverence for family, a reverence that endured to the end. Sarsfield spoke of his beloved brother Eamonn DeValera and his sister Veronica with affection and tenderness, and always referred to them in the present tense. Given his parents’ deep love of the Catholic faith, it was little surprise that the two brothers were called to priesthood, with Eamonn ordained on June 3, 1944, and Sarsfield on May 19, 1951. Most of the Helena clergy humorously opined that Vernie should have been named a monsignor, given her deep affiliation with the diocese and her bonds with the Helena clergy.

For all who knew him, Sarsfield was a Renaissance man: intellectually nimble, a lifelong student of Irish history and ecclesiology, a poet, scholar, bibliophile and historian. He was a docent in his own household, which was a veritable treasure of diocesan history. He was a humorist and conversationalist in his own right, occasionally spicing his conversation with irreverent innuendo and that characteristic twinkle in his eye.

He was a man uncommonly cultured and refined, equally at home with the president of Ireland or the ordinary parishioner.

The vicissitudes of the Church were anchored by his deep conviction that Christ is “the same, yesterday, today and forever.” The celebration of Holy Mass was the center of his spirituality, augmented by the prayerful recitation of the Divine Office and an abiding devotion to Mary, Mother of God.

Those who lived outside of Butte quickly recognized Sarsfield O Sullivan as booster extraordinaire for the “Holy City” of Butte, Montana. He should have been on the payroll for the Chamber of Commerce!

With the death of John Patrick Sarsfield O Sullivan on April 24, Butte lost a living legend and our local color is one step closer to monochrome. Yet we will speak of Sarsfield O Sullivan for years in the present tense, as a beloved father, a cherished brother and friend who enriched and enlivened Church and community through the force of his faith, intellect and charming personality.

At the conclusion of every visit I made to Sarsfield’s home, he would ask for my blessing, and then thank me with the words, “I love you.”

As we bid this fine man a fond farewell, we return his words of affection from the bottom of our hearts: We love you, Father Sarsfield O Sullivan.

Godspeed until we meet again.


Published in The Montana Catholic Online, Volume 26, No. 5, May 21, 2010.