A holy old priest, other than Monsignor, explained something to me very many years ago and that is that we grieve because we love. And, even after such a full life as Monsignor James Wade, I know there is great sorrow from the family. I’m sure I speak for many offering you sympathy, and to his priest friends that are here, and some that are not here, unhappily, and Father Brian in a very special way, with the great friendship that has developed, and Margo and the staff here, I am sure, so much sorrow, so much loss. And especially to this parish and to the parish of St. Columba as well that, even almost after 40 years, remembers him so very fondly.

Yesterday’s first reading took on a particular appropriateness. St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans. I’m reading it to you: "None of us lives as his own master. And none of us dies as his own master. While we live we are responsible to the Lord. And when we die, we die as servants. Both in life and in death we are the Lord’s." It’s been said so often about how James’ priesthood meant the world to him. It was his whole life. And his devotion to the Eucharist, his devotion to the rosary. I noted in the file on him that in 1962, two weeks after the diocese was established, Bishop Begin made him the Diocesan Director of the Apostleship of Prayer. Remember the Morning Offering and all of that. To my knowledge, that Directorship was never rescinded. He still was the Apostleship of the Prayer Director.

We had a gathering about the Sacrament of Reconciliation after the first few years since the change came and we were remarking that we weren’t doing so well. But I remember Monsignor James said, "You would do well if you made yourself available to the people in confession." And I should have expected that because my mother, from the heart of St. Augustine’s parish, would walk down Saturday nights to St. Columba’s to go to confession to then Father James Wade. She thought a lot of him.

The care of the sick has been mentioned. It seems to me he stopped going on night sick calls about a year ago...despite the quality of his driving, as the pastor has said last night. I liked other things about him too. I was trying to catch up with your pastor, not your emeritus pastor, last year and we had to make some signals because we were going skiing but there was only one key to the house and then I had it. I phoned at 3:30 in the afternoon to leave a message. Monsignor Wade answered the phone. Before we got to the business, I explained to him what that meant to me to have a priest answering the phone on a Sunday afternoon in this diocese. It was remarkable to experience!

I remember too that he did not have to go to the retreats because he was retired. He didn’t have to go to the convocations. He never missed one. And one time, we had a whole two or three days, whatever it was, a week.... on the whole psychology and psychological development of priests. And I remember, as the topics coming down to me, I kind of blue-penciled a few to say, "That won’t fly with the group." Well, the one that I thought was the most sensitive, Monsignor James Wade was in the front row, and afterwards told me, "That was very helpful."

I’m thinking too of how he belonged to God in his work. Only in 4 parishes in all these years! And he was not short-lived in any of them. Thirty-seven here of course. Calistoga was a cup of tea for him, just 2 years. But 20 years in St. Columba in both times, 9 years in Stockton, and as Brian Joyce said so very well, the Stockton pastor was legendary. Well, we had a kind of a minor league legendary at St. Columba too. And Monsignor served those men extraordinarily well. With Bishop Begin, he was not just pastor, but he was consulter. And he was on the Building Committee. He was Dean of the East Contra Costa County. And, to me, when we were negotiating how long he would stay in this parish, the rule was "75, you retire." He did not think that was an intelligent rule. And, as you know, he went on to 83. But he made it very clear to me that, whatever happened, "I promised you obedience when I was ordained. I will keep that promise. Your will is my will. Your decision is my decision." We both made the same decision. 83 was good enough for him, I think.

But, I want to make one more... reiterate... that we have to appreciate what it is for these men to leave home, and to not be aware that they were going back. Now, so far as I am aware, from the correspondence, he, like so many of the Irish priests, missed his mother’s funeral. He just could not get back that quickly. And I’m sure to receive the condolence of the Archbishop of San Francisco is not quite the same as being alive for your mother’s funeral, present. He also had to write again when his father was 83, to ask permission to go to Ireland because he said, you know, the father was getting old, wasn’t feeling so well. He thought it was a good idea to go back. I think that kind of sacrifice, really, has to be mentioned over and over again.

At the same time, he was so satisfied with his priestly life. Every time there was an inquiry about what your ministry means he was coming back just with superlatives. And I think the great one was, "This is a sublime vocation. Eternity will not be long enough to thank God for it." I think that, in Eternity, he will be thanking God, but I’m sure he will be praying for us as well. I hope that we will also remember him and especially be thankful to, I think his last years especially, and to Father Joyce and the people of this parish. How content he was! And to think back over all the years. He was with tough, tough bosses, and he handled them very well. One of the associates - I’m not to him yet. - One of the associates in Stockton wrote and said how difficult it was to live with that pastor in Stockton. Monsignor James Wade wrote to the Archbishop and said, "I’ll speak for myself. You tell that man to keep quiet."

But, I think too it’s already been said how he slipped in to be Pastor Emeritus and was really a help and a great associate, and to realize that whether he was superior or subject, it didn’t make any difference. He kept those wonderfully long friendships alive all of those years.... Eternity not long enough.... But I think what we do recall, and with great edification, that in life and in death he was the Lord’s.