Born: 29 December 1882, Clareville, Tramore, County Waterford
Entered: 07 September 1898, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 26 July 1914, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1917, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 06 January 1980, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin

Father a doctor, and mother is daughter of the late Thomas Sherlock of Waterford,

One of eight brothers (two deceased) and six sisters (two deceased)

Educated at Christian Brothers School, Tramore and then Mungret College SJ

William was a relative of Patrick Stephenson (RIP 1990) of the Australian province, and entered the Society at Tullabeg in 1898.

by 1903 at St Aloysius Jersey Channel Islands (FRA) studying
Came to Australia for Regency 1905

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
William was a relative of Patrick Stephenson of the Australian province, and entered the Society at Tullabeg in 1898. After juniorate and philosophy at Jersey, he arrived at Riverview in October 1905. He remained there until early in 1911, teaching, being assistant prefect of discipline, and for a couple of years, junior rowing master. He spent most of the rest of his life working in parish ministry and doing some pamphlet writing in Ireland.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 55th Year No 2 1980

Obituary

Fr William Stephenson (1882-1898-1980)

The memorial card of Fr Willie Stephenson, which has been distributed to the whole Province, gives one a glimpse of the life of the man whose obituary I have been asked to write. He died at night on 6th January 1980 in his 98th year.
At the time of his death he had completed and sent to his printers a revised edition of one of his many booklets, Days with our Lady. Ninety six pages which he wrote in clearest manuscript before having it typed and corrected before sending it first for censorship and then to his printers. He died before the estimate for printing was returned. While engaged in this gigantic task, he was also coping with his usual “fan mail”, his Christmas post, and meeting a continuous stream of visitors.
He had a set routine of life: breakfast, meditation, Mass, divine Office, spiritual reading, recreation. From this routine he never diverged until about the Friday before the Sunday of the Epiphany. Then he was confined to bed and began to go downhill rapidly, but still fighting and believing that he would get back on his feet again to continue his life's work.
Though fighting for life, he had no fear of death and was fully aware that it might be at hand for him. After his doctor had seen him on the Saturday, I approached him and suggested that I would anoint him. He immediately said, “Very well, I was going to ask you yesterday to do it”, and he immediately put out his two hands over the blankets. I had brought the holy oils with me, and without any ordeal I proceeded with the anointing. He thanked me for it and went on without any sign of distress or emotion,
In the same way he regarded the announcement of other people's deaths, no matter how closely related they might have been to him. It was a matter of fact: a fact of life. I accompanied him to visit the remains of his sister at her home not many years ago. He mounted the stairs, went over to the bedside, took a brief glance at the remains, beautifully laid out, and then turned away saying to me, “She's the image of my mother”. There wasn't another word. He came to the church, did not meet many people or look for any sympathy. The words “O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?” were a reality both for himself and for those near and dear to him.
A letter written to him by a university student in London arrived after his death. It gives a very true picture of a younger Father Willie and shows the influence he had on many young men who had gone away from the Church and from religious practices. The letter begins, “Dearest Willie”, and the writer goes on to say: “My only sadness, my dear Willie, is that I never knew you as an adult. I feel sadness within me that I missed a guiding light in this sea of currents that can sweep one away to shores one did not consciously choose. I feel that you are a true man of God, even though I do not practise the faith. I know that you remember me, but I don't have such a clear picture of you. I remember walking up by Murray’s forge with you one day when I was about seven years old and you were reading your black book. The cuffs of your jacket were thread bare, and you were tall and thin with piercing eyes. I knew that you were a nice man, but I was also frightened of you. I see you now as a light. I know that I am out in the Arctic circle in terms of Catholic faith, but I see your light, Willie: I see it shining out there in the darkness, but it's a long way off”.
Monsignor Tom Cullen, a past pupil of Mungret and taught there by Father Stephenson, also wrote to him: “You are one of the greatest priests I have known in all my life. You are the very best. I remember you in Mungret: you were great to the Apostolics”.
Father Stephenson knew no barriers of class, creed, age or life-style. He was the friend of all and was truly “all things to all men”. In the prime of his life he worked in Galway, and was a “live wire” both in the school and in the church for twenty-five years; his principal work being the Holy Hour and the men’s sodality of our Lady. He spent the last thirty years of his life in the Rathfarnham community. Here he is greatly missed, both as a member of the community and as a confessor ad jan., and by a countless number of clients both young and old who constantly visited him. In the room which he occupied, everything spoke of centuries past. The older and more worn-out his garments became, the more he became attached to them - almost in every sense. He loved his game of cards, and we feel particularly indebted to his young friends in the Society who were so good to him and dropped in occasionally for a game'. .
Finally, of all the places he dwelt in during his long life - Jersey, where he did his philosophy; Sydney, his regency; Galway; Mungret, where he was first as pupil and later as sub mod of the Apostolic School, etc., - Tramore, his native spot, took pride of place. The following letter, signed by Michael Cullen, town clerk, came from Tramore Town Commissioners:
“Dear Father,
At the meeting of the Commissioners on 8th January, a vote of sincere sympathy was adopted to you and the Jesuit order on the regretted death of the late Father William Stephenson, SJ RIP.
Not alone did the Commissioners express their own regret but also the sense of loss of the whole community here who knew, respected and loved Father Stephenson who was born here and always expressed his affection for the town: he was one of our most valuable tourist ambassadors.
He was a personal friend to me and my family, and we were very closely associated with him during his holidays each summer: we shall never forget him.
The County Manager asked to be associated with this expression of sympathy,
May God grant Father Willie eternal rest, and consolation to all who mourn him.'

No account of the life of Fr William Stephenson would be complete without putting on record his vast contribution to the Province through his writings published by the Irish Messenger Office. In all, he had fourteen booklets published, many of which went into several editions. His great work, however, was the Child of Mary Prayer Book, which has seen forty editions, twelve of which he edited (1930-1975). He not only edited and compiled these booklets, but in many cases - especially in his latter years - contributed substantially towards the printing. His object in devoting his time and energy to this work was to do good and to help the seminary fund for the education of Jesuits.
He was always interested in finding and helping candidates for the priesthood, and kept up contact with them and with their families all through life. With youth of all kinds he had a special charism and could make instant contact with them when much younger men would be utterly inadequate. About six years ago, when he was ninety-two, an incident occurred which brought this home to me. I was called to the parlour to meet four youths. They had finished school and were just “browned off”, as they put it. Obviously I was not their man: after all I was over sixty. They asked me if there was any younger man they could talk to. I made an arrangement with them for the following day. They were satisfied, and as I was showing them out I saw the Old Man in the distance. He was coming up the avenue with a bundle of sticks for his fire under his arm.
I pointed him out to the youths and told them that only a few days previously he had celebrated his sixtieth year in the priesthood and was ninety-two years of age. I told them to stop him and congratulate him. Soon I saw a huddle down the avenue. He had his arms on their shoulders and was in deep conversation with them. I did not wait. Next morning I asked him “How did you get on with those lads you met on the avenue last evening?” “Great lads”, he said. He had all their names; knew where they lived and where they had been at school. “They are all going to Mass and holy Communion this morning”, he added. “How did this happen?” I asked him. “I asked them were they saying their prayers (no!); were they going to Mass (no!). I brought them in behind the laurel bushes and heard their confessions. They are going to Mass and holy Communion this morning, and tonight they are coming up to me for a game of Switch.
Fr Stephenson's life was not without its trials. He went through some very rough times and was let down by some who were his friends and to help whom he had gone to endless trouble. One of these robbed him of all his savings. But he had a maxim which he frequently repeated: “let nothing disturb thee”. This may be more easily said than done. He did it. He could shut out from his mind anything that was beyond his power to remedy and never refer to it once it was over. This gave him constant serenity of mind and the power to help troubled souls. He radiated peace and cheerfulness and optimism. This was the Great Old Man - the true man of God. RIP

◆ The Mungret Annual, 1949

Our Past

Father William Stephenson SJ

Father William Stephenson SJ (95-98), celebrated his Golden Jubilee as a Jesuit last year. Father William came here as a small boy and was the youngest of that group of novices to join the Society of Jesus in 1898. A mature boy he plumbed the depths of spiritual wisdom under the direction of Fr James Murphy, the famous novice master, He went to Jersey for his philosophy where he acquired a great facility in the happy French idiom. Repairing to Australia for his regency, there, he spent three years having a magnetic influence for good over the boys who were under his charge. He returned to Milltown Park for theology and was ordained there in 1915. His next appointment was to the Crescent College, and Mungret was privileged to have him on the staff the following year. He was responsible under God for the vocations of many of our Past. In 1920 he was transferred to St Ignatius, Galway, where he remained for 25 years. During that quarter of a century he built up a great Men's Sodality-one of the finest in Ireland. The memory of his fruitful work in Galway occasioned a striking presentation of a gift of a chalice from those whom he had guided so zealously. His name is familiar as an author of spiritual works. Innumerable pamphlets, prayer-books and leaflets by his hand grace the book-stalls of our churches. We congratulate him on his more recent book “Christ Our Light”, a review of which we publish in this issue. Fr Stephenson is now a member of the Community at Manresa, Clontarf - the retreat house for workmen. We offer him wealth of blessings.