Frank Duff – Celebrating his life and legacy
Frank Duff valued the virtue of reliability above all others, writes Ruadhán Jones
Unique; courageous; friendly; loving; reliable. Read this list, and consider which of these you would like to be remembered by. They are none of them bad things. No doubt the glamour of courage or the affability of friendliness jump out; equally, our desire to stand out and be unique or to be loving and loved in return. But what of the last one? Reliable – a virtue for sure, but doesn’t it fall a little flat?
And yet, though any of the above descriptions could be ascribed to Frank Duff, founder of the Legion of Mary, it was reliability that he took the most pride in and felt to be the most challenging. ‘Old reliability’ was the nickname his mother gave him when he was 15. ‘He was always there when you need him’, she said, without realising that she was laying down a challenge he spent his life trying to meet.
As you read through this special edition, you will come to understand the vast influence he had on Ireland and the Church. ‘A quiet revolutionary’ is how Fr John S. Hogan describes him, while Finola Kennedy – Duff’s biographer – reminds us that in his work as a civil servant, he was never less than diligent and often highly inventive. Equally, in his commitment to providing comfort and shelter for men, women and children, he reached out to the margins of his time in a manner encouraged by Pope Francis today.
The Legion
Reading through the accounts of his work for the Legion, now the largest lay Catholic association in the world, you will no doubt see that he was a force to be reckoned with. From 1921, when the Legion was founded, right up to his death on November 7, 1980, he remained at his post. Ann Murray, a legionary who knew Duff, remembers that even on the morning of the seventh, he attended a legionary’s funeral, shaking hands and giving his attention to anyone he met.
He spent his life tirelessly promoting the lay apostolate, as well as invigorating and reinvigorating its mission – to convert the world for God with Mary. It’s not that his mission was easy. The difficulty with being ‘ahead of your time’ is that those around you do not easily understand. It wasn’t until Vatican II that Duff started to get the recognition he merited, as Fr John Harris OP shows in his article.
He was a tireless worker, a voracious reader and a monumental writer – 33,000 letters are his legacy, as well as numerous articles, talks, books and more. The articles that follow are peppered with witty and wise words from Duff. Perhaps even more notable is the patience and time he devoted to everyone he met or with whom he corresponded. He took everyone at their level, listening attentively. He spoke only when it was necessary, offering some simple words of encouragement or sage advice.
‘Old reliability’ was the nickname his mother gave him when he was 15. ‘He was always there when you need him’”
Through all this, he remained his mother’s faithful son. As Dr Evie Monahan notes in her own article, Duff never married, and one of the reasons for this was his desire to support his mother. Even later in life, he would take her out to the pictures, or have guests over – amid the great and global demands the Legion made of him, he made time for his mother. To the end, and in all things, he was reliable. He didn’t rest until God called him home.
How appropriate it is, after all, that such an everyday virtue would light up the mind of one of Ireland’s greatest sons, and the Church’s devoted servant. In Can we be saints?, his first published work, he set out a vision of sanctity situated in the everyday. A saint, he says, is “One who, with the object of pleasing God, does his ordinary duties extraordinarily well”.
And then, quoting St John Henry Newman, he writes:
“If you ask me what you are to do in order to be perfect, I say, first do not lie in bed beyond the time of rising; give your first thoughts to God; make a good visit to the Blessed Sacrament; say the angelus devoutly; eat and drink to God’s glory; say the rosary well; be recollected; keep out bad thoughts; make your evening meditation well; examine yourself daily; go to bed in good time, and you are already perfect.”
Virtue
It is no surprise that Duff believed everyone can be a saint – who is this description beyond? The answer, looking at the reality of sin, is many more than should be the case. Try to live your life even in this way, and you will understand how difficult it is to be reliable, to be always there when your mother or father, sister or brother, son or daughter, a stranger or God himself needs you. You will understand why reliability is the virtue Duff so much treasured, a virtue that requires a lifetime to perfect – and even then, only by the grace of God.
It is with great thanks, then, that I praise the reliability of all the contributors to this edition. They kindly dedicated their time to researching and writing a number of excellent articles on Duff, the Legion and some its luminaries. With Duff then, let us pray that we can too be reliable to the end:
“And then to crown the rest, dear Jesus, I beg of You to give me this… fidelity to the end… to be at my post when the final call comes, and to take my last weary breath in your embrace. A valiant life . . . and faithful to the end. A short wish, dearest Jesus, but it covers all” (Can we be saints?).
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