1929-2006

A fortnight ago, Mgr. Kevin Nichols, my predecessor at National Religious Education Adviser was buried.  Rita Price, Director of Schools for the Diocese of Wrexham and Jenny Pate, Deputy Director of Schools for the Diocese of Hexham and Newcastle, both students of Kevin’s have written the following tribute. Suffice to write that they capture some of Kevin’s love of life and for the Church he served so well.  May Kevin rest in peace.

Fr. Joseph A. Quigley

The recent death of Mgr Kevin Nichols leaves a profound sense of loss. He will be remembered for his great intellect, his words, his poetry and writings, his humour, his homilies, his love of the Church and his uncomforting humility. Many know him as their native priest in the diocese of Hexham and Newcastle, born in Wallsend, perhaps he is more obvious in later years as a parish priest, or since 1998, as an assistant priest in St Mary’s Cathedral in Newcastle. Others know him more from his work in academia, his studies at Cambridge [his tutor was C S Lewis] and Liverpool Universities, and his teaching in schools and colleges of education in England, including Christ's College in Liverpool (now Liverpool Hope University) and later at the Catholic University of America.

Kevin served as National Adviser for Religious Education in England and Wales in the 1970s and as member of ICEL for many years. He published widely in the field of religious education including collections of essays on religious education. Namely: ‘Orientations’, ‘Voice of the Hidden Waterfall’ and ‘Into His fullness’, all rooted in the discernment about religious education.  He is probably best known for his seminal and much reflected work ‘Cornerstone’. He contributed also to ‘Signposts and Homecomings’, - The Educative task of the Catholic Community. Later he helped to shape the moral section of the new Catechism of the Catholic Church with Bishop David Konstant of Leeds.  Kevin’s studious approach and insight leaves a rich legacy of writings and poetry to support the task of education. Among his more recent works ‘Refracting the Light’ a book on learning the languages of faith, is reflected his own love of words. His writing and talks are sprinkled with verse adding depth and poignancy to his thoughts. His legacy includes his own reflections and story spoken   through poetry, verse and hymn. He described recently to a conference of London primary heads, how, in his weekly journey north from London, he composed the much loved hymn ‘In Bread We Bring You, Lord'.

Those of us who first knew him as a lecturer in Christ’s College in those early, heady days following the Vatican Council knew we lived in privileged times. Kevin taught on the staff, philosophy and theology and much more. These were days of long conversations, of grappling with documents, of implementing change. We struggled to engage with some of the best minds teaching, they listened and willed us to grow and serve Catholic schools. The majority did so and very well, taking with them the strongest messages they had learned from their mentors. The echoes of this culture were heard down the years and markedly felt when the day after his funeral we gathered in Liverpool Cathedral for the moving celebration of thanksgiving for Liverpool Hope University.

For some of us, Kevin Nichols became a lifelong friend and inspiration. He has been part of that weaving in and out of life events, weddings, children, gatherings, work and so much a part of that crucial circuit of friends and contacts whose names tell us that all is well with the Church and the world. We loved his letters; his every edition of poems signed and sent, our telephone calls. Precious were those moments to grasp when coincidence afforded a meeting, a walk along a northern shore, a visit to Minsteracres or a share in an evening meal. He was a dear friend, unassuming yet remarkable, accepting and deeply compassionate. It was so like him to choose the Emmaus story for his funeral, someone who loved to walk alongside and share in the stories. Then we saw him ‘in the evening, when the day was almost spent’ knowing his illness was terminal and knowing how great would be our loss. We said our goodbyes but wanted to return. Later we were with those he loved, laying him to rest in the grounds of Minsteracres, not far from ‘the avenue of redwoods grown to a jagged horizon’ and where the winter sky pitches a low canopy’. He loved so much, especially words and people, and we know how much we have been graced by his life and his friendship. 

May he enjoy the fruit of his work and faith.