Dom Peter Brady

Peter said, “I have neither silver nor gold, but I will give you what I have: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, walk!” Then they said to one another, “Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?”

The two readings we have heard proclaimed today go right to the very heart of the Christian and monastic life. The greatest treasure we possess is Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord and Saviour. It is he who speaks to our hearts and makes us radiant with joy as he walks with us on our journey of faith and shares with us the inner meaning of the Scriptures when we celebrate Holy Mass, sing the Divine Office and practice Lectio Divina. As we continue to celebrate the glorious Resurrection of Christ during this Easter Octave we become ever more aware of the saving presence of Christ in our lives and in the life of the Church.

It is a great joy and privilege to celebrate this Requiem Mass for the repose of the soul of our dear friend and brother, Dom Peter Brady, who in a unique way lived out the truth and beauty of these scripture texts in his remarkable life as a Benedictine monk and Catholic priest, faithful as he was to this traditional twin vocation. Fr Peter lived and breathed Christ, which is why he was always such a positive and powerful person, a man with such drive, energy and radiant joy. He had seen the Risen Christ and so could share with others what he had seen. He had received the grace of the Holy Spirit and so could share with others what he had received and what he enjoyed so much, being a child of God, a priest of God, a man whose heart burned with the love of Christ. In his love for life, his love for mankind and his love of nature, it was the love of God that moved him. Peter was no ordinary man and no ordinary Christian. So, of course, he was no ordinary monk. You always knew he was streaks ahead of you and could see right through and beyond you. He was very special.

Peter John Brady was born in Wolverhampton on 11th September 1938 to Kathleen and John Brady. On the outbreak of the Second World War they moved up to Workington in Cumberland. His father died in 1942 at the age of 33. His mother was a schoolteacher though the household was presided over by his grandmother, a strong-minded lady, rather like Peter himself. Then there was Auntie Gertrude, so he was brought up, an only child, by three women. They were faithful parishioners of Our Lady and St Michael, a flourishing Ampleforth parish around which all life revolved. It was here that Peter came to know Benedictine monks and love the Benedictine tradition and it was here that he imbibed the staunch, traditional Catholicism of those wonderful West Cumbrian communities, so well known to us at Belmont through our long connection with Whitehaven and Harrington. To the very end of his life, Peter’s first love remained Workington and the Lake District, his family and friends.

He was a pupil at Workington Grammar School from where he went on to Leeds University. Here he read Chemistry and gained a B.Sc with honours. He retained an interest in things scientific throughout his life. Judging from his conversation and book collection he had a remarkable number of hobbies and interests and never tired of talking about them. He was born into a musical family and was very proud of his parents. He always invited visitors to his room to admire their photographs on the wall, He was born with a passionate love for music so played the piano and sang from an early age. He studied for a Licentiate at the London College of Music. In fact, as we all know, he was a brilliant pianist and organist. He could play Chopin and Bach with equal brilliance, and there was something Paganini-like about the speed and precision of his finger work. He could turn his hand to anything. Above all, he was a singer with a clear, powerful voice, his great love being Gregorian Chant. He always sang above the note, never lost pitch and seemed not to need to breathe like the rest of us. He was, of course, highly intelligent with a great capacity for knowledge as well as the ability to retain what he had learned. His memory never failed him, whether it was intricate details about the feeding or breeding habits of birds, the historic railways of Cumbria and elsewhere, chants from the Graduale all of which he seemed to know by heart, the inner workings of the organ, the names and idiosyncrasies of people he had met only once and, of course, the writings of the Fathers or the Theology of Thomas Aquinas. He was no mean theologian.

At first he thought of joining an English Benedictine community and was at Douai for a short while. But it was Quarr and the Solesmes Congregation where he felt really at home and so he was clothed there by Abbot Gabriel Tissot on 12th February 1961 and made his First Profession on the feast of the Epiphany 1963. He was solemnly professed by Abbot Aelred Sillem three years to the day and ordained to the Sacred Priesthood by Bishop Dereck Worlock on 26th July 1969. Peter was not a man to waste time, applying himself wholehearted to any task assigned him. He was able to study for an external degree in Theology at the University of London, for which he gained a B.D., combining serious study with his other duties in the community. He become a cantor in 1965 and as time progressed he was appointed Master of Studies, Choirmaster, Infirmarian and Subprior.

But a monk is not the sum total of the jobs he does nor should titles mean anything to him. There was an intrinsic humility in his pride, in that he was very humble in himself but immensely proud of the people and places he loved. When he talked about the Isle of Wight or the nuns of Ryde, for example, he exuded a sense of pride, affection, concern and gratitude all in one. Peter was, above all, a monk, a man faithful to his calling and in love with his vocation. In all the ups and downs of life this never wavered. He was assiduous in his attendance of the Divine Office and Conventual Mass and in the other duties to which monks are assigned in their service of the brethren. In the last few months, when, here at Belmont, he was unable to come down to choir, he would celebrate Mass very simply in his cell sitting in his wheelchair and often, in the evening, you could hear him singing Vespers in Latin. And he remained faithful to his Lectio and personal prayer. He also remained faithful to his friends, spending hours on the phone. He was far more interested in others than in himself and his contribution to community life was second to none.

He loved Quarr: the place, the life and the brethren. So it was a sad day when he had to leave in order to care for his aged mother and aunt, but he did it out of a marked sense of filial love and duty. This was an opportunity to go back to his roots and old haunts and to get to know the Lake District really well. He was able to help out on local parishes, something he did with relish and satisfaction. He was a great help to the clergy of the Whitehaven Deanery and further afield. He was also able to practice his favourite pastime, bird watching, to his heart’s content. Here he consolidated his friendship with a number of the Ampleforth monks and never lost touch with them. However, when his mother and then his aunt passed away and it proved impossible for him to return to Quarr, for a time he lived at Pluscarden to see whether he could transfer his stability to that community. Although he loved the Scottish Highlands and was a tough, able-bodied man, Peter found life at Pluscarden hard, especially the diet. Peter had a hardy appetite, so Belmont would eventually suit him well. It was Abbot Alan Rees who suggested he come down to Belmont and that was how I first met Peter in 2001. Of course, he had known our “northern brethren” for many years and had a long connexion with our parish at Harrington.

After due consideration, Peter asked if he could transfer his stability to Belmont. With the agreement of the Abbot of Quarr and our own Abbot President, this took place on 18th August 2003. He adapted well to Belmont and contributed greatly to the life of the community. He was appointed hospital chaplain in Hereford, a ministry he fulfilled with great devotion, kindness and humanity. Patients, the bereaved and staff alike all appreciated his attentive care, pastoral skills and kindly sense of humour. He became close friends with his fellow chaplains. He was on call 24 hours and could be seen cycling to and from the hospital several times a day. Even so, he never missed his monastic duties, if he could help it. In 2004 I asked him to become Prior, a duty he performed with fidelity and enthusiasm. I soon learned that if you asked Peter for advice or to give an opinion, he didn’t beat around the bush but told you exactly what he thought. You always knew where you stood with him. He was a man a great integrity, who didn’t suffer fools lightly. There was just one duty he hated: having to attend Trustees’ meetings. He was a great support to me, especially at the time of dear Alan’s last, prolonged illness and death. It had not been an easy decision to transfer to Belmont and often, in private conversation, Peter would break down and cry over what had happened at Quarr and why he had felt obliged to leave. You could tell how much he was hurt, so unusual was it for Peter to show this kind of emotion.

When I was re-elected abbot in November 2008, Peter asked to step down as Prior. The cancer, which was to take his life, had already been diagnosed and, with the changed circumstances at Quarr, he also felt he would like to spend some time with his old community. It was a great loss for us to do without his powerful voice in choir and his lively presence in the monastery. It also meant his giving up the hospital chaplaincy that had meant so much to local Catholics and many others. So, from 2009 to October 2010, he spent a lot of time with his brethren at Quarr while making occasional visits to Belmont as he continued with treatment both at Cheltenham and Hereford hospitals. His presence at Quarr was much appreciated as were his returns to Belmont. It became increasingly obvious that, in spite of the many forms of treatment, his condition was getting worse. He was losing weight and, though never mentioning it, suffered severe pain. In October 2010 he returned to Belmont for the last time. Fortunately, Br Bernard together with Fr Andrew and a team of novices and juniors were more than able to look after him. In the last few weeks they were assisted by health workers and McMillan nurses.

Peter was not only physically but also mentally and spiritually strong. He was well aware of his condition and to the end tried to keep everything under control, which, at times, could be difficult for those trying to help him. He was determined to live until Holy Week, which he did, passing away quietly at the eleventh hour on Palm Sunday. Just two days before he was still fully conscious and chatted with the Abbot President in his usual jovial manner, as though nothing were wrong. But over the last few weeks, the jokes and good humour were interspersed with manifestations of faith and trust in God that were both moving and impressive. He was more than ready to die and never once did he ever complain about his illness or the pain or the terrible limitations of his declining state. The closest he got to complaining was to say that the fish and chips would taste better in heaven. He was grateful to God, he said, because his sufferings, though nothing compared with those of Christ, would contribute to the redemption of the world. He saw death not as an inglorious end but as a glorious beginning. When told that the cancer had spread to the brain, he simply said it was marvellous as tears of gratitude flowed from his eyes. Death would be no simple release from pain for Peter but the fulfilment of his deepest longing. You can hear him sing, “Laetetur cor quaerentium Dominum: quaerite faciem eius semper.”

Dear Peter, your walk to Emmaus has come to an end, which, as you knew, would be just the beginning. You need be restless no longer, for you have seen the Bridegroom face to face and you are sat with Our Lady and the saints to enjoy for all eternity the wedding banquet of the Lamb. May you rest in peace and may we learn from you to be faithful and joyful to the end and to trust in God alone, to whom be honour and glory now and for ever. Alleluia. Amen.