BEFORE MOVING in 1972 from the Glasgow Herald to join The Irish Times as Religious Affairs Correspondent in succession to John Horgan, I was told by several friends that the first person I should contact was Fr Austin Flannery OP, the editor of Doctrine and Life. When I phoned Austin, he invited me to lunch at St Saviour's in Dublin on the feast day of St Dominic. The potent ritual of mixing red and white wine in the same glass in honour of the founder of the Order of Preachers mingled effortlessly with the warmth of Austin's welcome and the lively table-talk with him and his confreres. It was a heady introduction to Austin and Dublin! This was to be the first of many convivial and enlightening agapes with Austin over the years in Dublin, Rome and Brussels at which he shared his compendious knowledge of church documentation and introduced me to leading churchmen and scholars, notably the late Fr Herbert McCabe and Archbishop Denis Hurley of Durban.
Austin carried his learning lightly in his towering and somewhat gangly frame, which radiated endearingly an aura of both the cosmopolitan and the countryman.
Many of his friends who turned to him for guidance and understanding in times of personal crisis came away with their spirit and their faith renewed.
Through Doctrine and Life, and his translations of the documents of Vatican II and post-conciliar pronouncements, Austin stood out like a Tipperary fountain that sprinkled the waters of renewal in the sluggish backwater that was then the Irish Church. At a time when church leaders disdainfully regarded journalists, especially religion correspondents, as subversively dangerous demons opposing their omnipotent authority, Austin showed obvious liking, encouragement and sympathy for the company of the scribe species.
On one occasion he invited religious affairs correspondents to a dinner in the Trocadero restaurant and asked us for ideas on improving Doctrine and Life. To which TP O'Mahony quipped: "Less doctrine and more life!" Austin laughed the loudest in the group that was held spellbound for several hours - and copious bottles of Chianti, ending in sambuca - by Seán Mac Reamoinn.
Of the many stories recounted of Austin, once infamously described by Charles Haughey as 'a gullible priest' after his television broadcast on the housing crisis in Dublin with Michael O'Riordan of the Communist party, is of how Conor Cruise O'Brien and Tomás Mac Giolla of the Workers' Party had agreed to a public debate, but strongly disagreed as to who should chair the meeting. A succession of proposed names was vetoed by either or both. Eventually, the name of Austin Flannery was mentioned - and was instantly acceptable to both disputants. Austin personified what he preached about individual human dignity, intellectual tolerance and cultural pluralism.
In 1976 when I moved to Brussels as European Correspondent for The Irish Times, Austin gifted me a lithograph by Patrick Pye of John the Baptist with the caption, "John, Son of Thunder". The apostle stares at me as I struggle to convey Father Austin's paternal gentility. To paraphrase Rose Macaulay's obituary appreciation of the author of Father Ralph, Gerald O'Donovan, "to know Austin was to love him".
JC