Funeral Homily for Canon Michael McLaughlin, 27th of April, 2026

Here is my servant, in whom my soul delights

Thus says the Lord:

Here is my servant whom I uphold,

my chosen one in whom my soul delights.

Isaiah in today’s first reading.

We gather today with gratitude, affection, and a deep sense of reverence as we give thanks for the life and ministry of a priest who has been, in every sense, a true shepherd of God’s people, Canon Michael McLaughlin.

To speak of him is to speak of goodness made visible. For almost 90 years, he walked this earth with a quiet strength, a gentle heart, and a faith that was not only professed but lived—day in and day out, in ways both great and small. As a priest, he reflected the image of the Good Shepherd we recalled yesterday, the 4th Sunday of Easter: attentive, faithful, and deeply committed to the flock entrusted to his care.

He was, above all, a man of presence. Whether in the parishes he served, in the hospital ward in Cahercalla, on the corridor in St. Flannan’s College, in the activities of the day-centre in Kilmaley, The Accueil Notre-Dame in Lourdes or in the quiet moments of conversation, he had a gift for making people feel seen, heard, and valued. Many here will remember his warmth, his ready smile, and his ability to enter into conversation not as a duty, but as a genuine encounter. He did not rush people—he accompanied them.

Make the preaching of the Good News your life’s work.

(The words of Paul to Timothy in today’s second reading.)

Canon Michael’s  years as a hospital chaplain reveal something essential about his priesthood and making the good news his life’s work. He stood at bedsides when others could not. He listened to fears that could scarcely be spoken. He brought the sacraments, yes—but also brought peace, reassurance, and the quiet reminder that no one suffers alone. In those sacred spaces of vulnerability, he became a sign of Christ’s compassion.

 

Vocations Director

As vocations director, he helped shape the future of the Church of Killaloe diocese, encouraging and guiding those who heard the call to priesthood. His own example—faithful, joyful, and grounded—was perhaps his greatest teaching. He showed that a priest’s life, based on the Good Shepherd of yesterday, Vocations Sunday, when lived with sincerity, becomes a powerful invitation to others.

Lourdes – Care of the Sick

And how could we not mention his deep devotion to Lourdes? He carried within him that beautiful tradition of care for the sick and trust in the healing grace of God. Lourdes was not simply a place for him—it was a way of seeing the world: attentive to suffering, confident in grace, and always rooted in hope.

There is no doubt that his gifted insight into this vulnerable side of human nature helped him when his own physical sight gradually ebbed away and the challenges associated with being almost totally dependent made his declining years so challenging and difficult.

What stands out most, perhaps, is the consistency of his character. He was kind to the young and gentle with the old. He was respected by many, but never distant. He was loved by all, not because he sought admiration, but because he lived with authenticity. There was no pretence in him—only a quiet, steady goodness.

In an age that often values noise over depth, he was a man of quiet fidelity. In a world that can be hurried and distracted, he was attentive and present. In a time when faith can waver, he remained rooted and steadfast.

Today, we do not simply remember him—we give thanks for him. We entrust him now to the Lord he served so faithfully, confident that the Good Shepherd whom he imitated so well will now welcome him home.

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

May he rest in peace.