Cardinal Daly came to my mind today.  I was listening to the news about the the attack on Peadar Heffron, the policeman from Randalstown and I recalled the many previous statements Cahal used to issue, the press releases, the long drawn out battle with the IRA over paramilitary  funerals.  It turns out of course that he was dead right.

Well about politics - still totally wrong about architecture, including St Mel's Cathedral now burnt and hopefully to be restored to a 1950s glory.  When I think of a bishop I'm still inclined to think of him, and I expect bishops' sermons to be like his, well structured, well delivered, and exactly 23 minutes long.

Cahal was bishop during most of my time as a seminarian.  He was, I have to say, considerably more supportive than his successor, or auxiliaries.  When DMcK tried to dump me the first time Cahal arranged for what he described as "very much a year in", and he subsequently came to visit me in Scotland to see how I was getting on.  One little story to tell, we met in the Nazareth House I was working in.  The nuns brought in tea and biscuits - KitKats and Breakaways - Cahal insisted I take the biscuits away with me, and suggested leaving the wrappers so the nuns would think we ate them.

Here's one of the odd things in life - when I made remarks about Cahal's Christmas cards and his taste in liturgical art it was apparently dreadful, bold, hilarious - take your pick - but when Cardinal Brady does it at his funeral it's a moving homily.

Cardinal Brady: Many of you will have received Cardinal Daly's now famous annual Christmas cards. They are a work of art in their own right. They also tell us so much about the man: about his abiding faith in Jesus Christ - the same yesterday, today and forever; about his loving devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus. Those Christmas cards spoke of a man who loved art and beauty, prayer and poetry, especially religious poetry, as well as Holy Scripture.

I took my daughter Mary to see him in St Patrick's Cathedral the day before his funeral.  I wish they'd put his glasses on.

May he rest in peace.