Week ending 25th August 2015
“August Is A Wicked Month” is the title of an early novel by Clare born writer Edna O’Brien, some of whose books were banned by the Irish Censorship Board in the early sixties of the last century. I hope this August does not turn out to be wicked from a weather point of view, as most of July was a disappointment. Mist and fog replaced sunshine to a large extent, but it did not seem to deter many tourists. I have never seen as many dormer vans and wagons on local roads, prompted no doubt by the publicity received by the Wild Atlantic Way during the past year. I hate to mention it but back to school is little more than a month away, and children would enjoy a bit more sunshine before they return, rather than an Indian Summer when they are back in their classrooms.
Edna O’Brien was somewhat of an iconic figure in the Ireland of fifty years ago, with her shock of red hair, and her books which seem to have shocked the Irish Censorship Board more than anyone else. There was a mood of change in the country and outside it at the time. The Seán Lemass/Ken Whittaker axis in the Government and Civil Service was reaping rewards with an increase in employment and easing of emigration. Across the water the Beatles were weaving their magic on Merseyside. Brendan Bowyer and The Royal Showband were filling the dancehall of The Traveller’s friend on a regular basis. The proverbial rising tide seemed to be lifting all boats, or maybe it’s just that we were young then.
It would seem that I was walking away from all this when I headed off to Maynooth, but that too was to become an exciting place in the years that followed as the influence of the Second Vatican Council came to be felt even in that venerable institution. Our English lecturer, Fr. Peter Connolly gained some national notoriety when he publicly praised the novels of Edna O’Brien. Shock/horror from those who had not read them and only knew of them by reputation, but Peter Connolly stuck to his guns, and the censorship laws were repealed fairly soon afterwards by Justice Minister, Brian Lenihan. It was my pleasure to re-launch the first novel banned in this State, Aran Islander Liam Ó Flaherty’s “The House Of Gold” in Galway city Library this time two years ago..
Another literary giant on the Irish scene at the time was to visit our college shortly before he died, even though he managed to slip under the radar of the authorities in order to do so. Permission was required in order to bring in high profile speakers to address the students on Sunday evenings. Frank O’Connor was a leading short story writer at the time who was often critical of church and clergy, despite writing sensitively about individual priests. Not very amny people were aware that ‘Frank O’Connor’ was the pen-name of Corkonian, Michael O’Donovan.
When the college authorities were asked for permission for one Michael O’Donovan to address the students, his name did not ring any alarm bells. Of coure they were less than pleased when they read in the following day’s newspapers that Frank O’Connor has addressed the students. They could not do very much about it without admitting ignorance of literary matters, the use of pen-names, etc. We had the benefit of hearing a thoughtful and thought provoking talk from one of Ireland’s truly great short story writers about a fortnight before he died. I have no doubt that the names of further speakers were scrutinised pretty strictly after that. August can be a wicked month alright.
Edna O’Brien was somewhat of an iconic figure in the Ireland of fifty years ago, with her shock of red hair, and her books which seem to have shocked the Irish Censorship Board more than anyone else. There was a mood of change in the country and outside it at the time. The Seán Lemass/Ken Whittaker axis in the Government and Civil Service was reaping rewards with an increase in employment and easing of emigration. Across the water the Beatles were weaving their magic on Merseyside. Brendan Bowyer and The Royal Showband were filling the dancehall of The Traveller’s friend on a regular basis. The proverbial rising tide seemed to be lifting all boats, or maybe it’s just that we were young then.
It would seem that I was walking away from all this when I headed off to Maynooth, but that too was to become an exciting place in the years that followed as the influence of the Second Vatican Council came to be felt even in that venerable institution. Our English lecturer, Fr. Peter Connolly gained some national notoriety when he publicly praised the novels of Edna O’Brien. Shock/horror from those who had not read them and only knew of them by reputation, but Peter Connolly stuck to his guns, and the censorship laws were repealed fairly soon afterwards by Justice Minister, Brian Lenihan. It was my pleasure to re-launch the first novel banned in this State, Aran Islander Liam Ó Flaherty’s “The House Of Gold” in Galway city Library this time two years ago..
Another literary giant on the Irish scene at the time was to visit our college shortly before he died, even though he managed to slip under the radar of the authorities in order to do so. Permission was required in order to bring in high profile speakers to address the students on Sunday evenings. Frank O’Connor was a leading short story writer at the time who was often critical of church and clergy, despite writing sensitively about individual priests. Not very amny people were aware that ‘Frank O’Connor’ was the pen-name of Corkonian, Michael O’Donovan.
When the college authorities were asked for permission for one Michael O’Donovan to address the students, his name did not ring any alarm bells. Of coure they were less than pleased when they read in the following day’s newspapers that Frank O’Connor has addressed the students. They could not do very much about it without admitting ignorance of literary matters, the use of pen-names, etc. We had the benefit of hearing a thoughtful and thought provoking talk from one of Ireland’s truly great short story writers about a fortnight before he died. I have no doubt that the names of further speakers were scrutinised pretty strictly after that. August can be a wicked month alright.
Week ending 18th August 2015
The first time I was allowed on a fairly long journey on my own was when I was sent the twenty-file mile return journey to and from Kiltimagh to collect a dozen day old chickens. We had recently bought a second-hand Raleigh bicycle in Dan Roche’s of Balla, and it was purring like the cat that got the cream as I pedalled off on my adventure. Looking back now I see it as the only time in my life that I had a dozen chicks coming after me, as they tweeted away contentedly on the carrier of my bike. Tweets of course had a different meaning then, as did ‘chicks’ and ‘birds’ for the most part. I recalled those days of almost sixty years ago in recent times as swallows swooped low, and bats made their presences felt around me in Carna church.
One of the first items of weather lore I learned as a farmer’s son was that low flying swallows were as good a weather forecast as a person was likely to get in a bad summer. Not only have the swallows being skimming the ground this year, I have heard reports of them lying on the ground in places. A farmer/fisherman I was talking to recently told me the last time he had seen that, it was followed by very heavy rain, just as we had for much of July and early August. While many blame this year’s bad summer on climate change I remember the occasional year in the fifties when we tossed and turned hay for nearly three weeks before getting it dry. Other years were so hot and dry that potatoes barely grew and we ended up eating what we called ‘pooreens. (little spuds)’
Bats are an endangered species, but it is sometimes people who feel endangered by their presence. Folk tales of bats blinding people or getting tangled in their hair nake people wary of them, though they seem in practice to be completely harmless, apart from the mess they can make. For four or five weeks each year a colony of them make their home, or emerge from hibernation in the roof-space of Carna’s one hundred and seventy-five year old church. They do most of their flying at night and do not bother anyone apart from a quick morning clean-up. They seem to have chosen the Feast of the Assumption, the 15th of August to tweet their goodbyes, as the year’s hatch has grown up or gone into hibernation.
A brave young girl serving Mass recently held her nerve despite seeing a bat under the seat next to her. She thought it was a mouse, and many a person much older might have screamed and ran, but she carried on, rang the bell and did her other duties as if it was not there. The panic among some of our Senators a few months ago at what seemed like rabid man-eating seagulls was in sharp contrast. Maybe it was because their ‘Upper House’ was itself for the birds not so long ago that they seemed so shocked, or could it be the little matter of a forthcoming election? The real battle in coming months could be between anti-austerity and anti-seagull factions. Happily for the ‘bats out of heaven,’ they will be in ‘hibernation once again’ by then.
One of the first items of weather lore I learned as a farmer’s son was that low flying swallows were as good a weather forecast as a person was likely to get in a bad summer. Not only have the swallows being skimming the ground this year, I have heard reports of them lying on the ground in places. A farmer/fisherman I was talking to recently told me the last time he had seen that, it was followed by very heavy rain, just as we had for much of July and early August. While many blame this year’s bad summer on climate change I remember the occasional year in the fifties when we tossed and turned hay for nearly three weeks before getting it dry. Other years were so hot and dry that potatoes barely grew and we ended up eating what we called ‘pooreens. (little spuds)’
Bats are an endangered species, but it is sometimes people who feel endangered by their presence. Folk tales of bats blinding people or getting tangled in their hair nake people wary of them, though they seem in practice to be completely harmless, apart from the mess they can make. For four or five weeks each year a colony of them make their home, or emerge from hibernation in the roof-space of Carna’s one hundred and seventy-five year old church. They do most of their flying at night and do not bother anyone apart from a quick morning clean-up. They seem to have chosen the Feast of the Assumption, the 15th of August to tweet their goodbyes, as the year’s hatch has grown up or gone into hibernation.
A brave young girl serving Mass recently held her nerve despite seeing a bat under the seat next to her. She thought it was a mouse, and many a person much older might have screamed and ran, but she carried on, rang the bell and did her other duties as if it was not there. The panic among some of our Senators a few months ago at what seemed like rabid man-eating seagulls was in sharp contrast. Maybe it was because their ‘Upper House’ was itself for the birds not so long ago that they seemed so shocked, or could it be the little matter of a forthcoming election? The real battle in coming months could be between anti-austerity and anti-seagull factions. Happily for the ‘bats out of heaven,’ they will be in ‘hibernation once again’ by then.
Week ending 11th August 2015
There is something about the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady which will be celebrated next Saturday, the fifteenth of August, that touches an inner core for many Roman Catholics. Over the years I have had more requests from people who would like to have loved ones remembered at an open-air Mass on the feast itself or the previous evening beside a holy well, Tobar Mhuire, than for most other occasions. The well and the well-cared for shrine beside it is in a sheltered spot by a narrow road which winds down to one of the many unspoiled beaches in the Carna area. There are always flowers and candles around Mary’s statue, evidence of visitors in quieter moments, local people or passers by on their way down to their land or to the beach. There was a public rosary there on the evening of May Day and many people brought primroses and other flowers as part of the traditional ‘flowers of May’ homage to Our Lady. This year’s Mass at the shrine will be on Sunday evening, as I will already have five Masses on Saturday.
There will be many bigger and more spectacular pilgrimages on the day. The Novena at Knock will draw many thousands, as will other major shrines, but this is not a competition. The little altar lovingly tended to in somebody’s kitchen or entrance hall is as important in its own way as the spectacular ceremony. Our quiet roadside get-together will not be a traffic stopper, unless a stray car happens to wander down the road at the time. Too often we get hung up on numbers doing this or that, as if what is in each individual heart is not important. This is not the spiritual All Ireland Final. There will be no need for a replay The sick, the blind, the lame, the losers, the triers and non-triers are not excluded. There is room for everyone at the table of the Lord and the shrine of Our Lady.
There is a gospel story which sees Jesus down to the wire as regards numbers of followers that illustrates the importance of commitment over having crowds running after you. Crowds began to drift away from Jesus when the promise of his leading a revolution to throw the Romans out of the country faded. Those who had eaten the five loaves and two fishes had hoped for more of the same, and not just bread but weapons as well. They lost interest when Jesus began to talk of food for the soul, spiritual nourishment that could bring someone to eternal life. He was left wth his little band of faithful followers, whom he asked: “Will you too go away?” Peter answered for the rest of them: “To whom shall we go? You have the message of eternal life.” Like all followers of Jesus, the same Peter had his good days and bad, but that response certainly said it all.
The Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady is known in the Irish language as “Lá Fhéile Mhuire Mór san Fhómhair,” (The Autumn Feast of Mary, the great one.) Mary herself was given the singular honour of having a name all to herself – Muire. Girls named after her were called Mary or May, Máire, etc, but ‘Muire’ was retained for ‘the great one.’ Many prayers referred to her protection, to being wrapped in Mary’s cloak, not unlike Jesus’ comment about gathering people together as the hen gathers her chickens under her wing. As the Feast of the Assumption approaches: “Faoi bhrat Mhuire go raibh sibh – may you all be protected under Mary’s cloak.”
There will be many bigger and more spectacular pilgrimages on the day. The Novena at Knock will draw many thousands, as will other major shrines, but this is not a competition. The little altar lovingly tended to in somebody’s kitchen or entrance hall is as important in its own way as the spectacular ceremony. Our quiet roadside get-together will not be a traffic stopper, unless a stray car happens to wander down the road at the time. Too often we get hung up on numbers doing this or that, as if what is in each individual heart is not important. This is not the spiritual All Ireland Final. There will be no need for a replay The sick, the blind, the lame, the losers, the triers and non-triers are not excluded. There is room for everyone at the table of the Lord and the shrine of Our Lady.
There is a gospel story which sees Jesus down to the wire as regards numbers of followers that illustrates the importance of commitment over having crowds running after you. Crowds began to drift away from Jesus when the promise of his leading a revolution to throw the Romans out of the country faded. Those who had eaten the five loaves and two fishes had hoped for more of the same, and not just bread but weapons as well. They lost interest when Jesus began to talk of food for the soul, spiritual nourishment that could bring someone to eternal life. He was left wth his little band of faithful followers, whom he asked: “Will you too go away?” Peter answered for the rest of them: “To whom shall we go? You have the message of eternal life.” Like all followers of Jesus, the same Peter had his good days and bad, but that response certainly said it all.
The Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady is known in the Irish language as “Lá Fhéile Mhuire Mór san Fhómhair,” (The Autumn Feast of Mary, the great one.) Mary herself was given the singular honour of having a name all to herself – Muire. Girls named after her were called Mary or May, Máire, etc, but ‘Muire’ was retained for ‘the great one.’ Many prayers referred to her protection, to being wrapped in Mary’s cloak, not unlike Jesus’ comment about gathering people together as the hen gathers her chickens under her wing. As the Feast of the Assumption approaches: “Faoi bhrat Mhuire go raibh sibh – may you all be protected under Mary’s cloak.”
Week ending 4th August 2015
Pope Francis’ recent encyclical letter on the environment and the threat posed in particular by carbon in the atmosphere is a timely wake-up call, not just to Roman Catholics, but to all the people of the world. It is not that many of the things he writes about have not been said already, but his voice is particularly authoritative, not just because of his position as leader of the largest faith-group in the world, but because, like Jesus, “he speaks with authority, not like the Scribes and the Pharisees.” It could well be argued that possibly more people from outside his church listen carefully to him than those who are faithful followers and feel they have to follow the Pope anyhow. The very authority of his well thought out and scientifically and scripture backed arguments is more important in regard to the environmental question than his position as Supreme Pontiff of the Roman Catholic faith
The Pope has no problem in accepting Charles Darwin’s theories of evolution, but neither has his Church for a hundred years, even though some people still reject faith for that reason. They confuse the long-held acceptance by most churches that the Genesis stories about Adam and Eve are parables, and not as creationists in the American South claim, statements of fact. Pope Francis makes clever and sensible use of those parables to point out that the Biblical story which says God gave man and woman dominion over the earth does not imply absolute domination over other creatures. “The Biblical texts tell us,” he writes, “to ‘till and keep’ the garden of the world.” Tilling in this context refers to cultivation, while keeping means caring, protecting, preserving and overseeing. The Pope’s choice of the name Francis after the Saint of Assisi was in itself a hint at care for the earth and its creatures.
The importance the Pope gives to the Sabbath came as a surprise to me, and is described as “a key element of Biblical ecology” because rest on the seventh day is meant not just for human beings, but in the Biblical context: “that your ox and your donkey may have rest.” He is not hung up on the notion of breaking the Sabbath as a sin, but he stresses the importance of rest for both human and animal. This rest has a twofold purpose, to ensure balance and fairness in the relationships between the human inhabitants and the land on which they live and work. Again, he gives this a Biblical context: “The gift of the earth with its fruits belongs to everyone: those who tilled and kept the land were obliged to share its fruits, especially with the poor, the widows, orphans and foreigners in their midst.” We can easily forget in this part of the world that the vast majority of people in the world live in societies closer to Biblical experiences than to modern urban or European standards of living.
Pope Francis does not confine his arguments to the Western Christian, Catholic or Jewish traditions. He quotes leaders from Orthodox churches, as well as a Sufi mystic, the ninth century Muslim poet, Ali-Al-Khawas. He also praises the work of the worldwide ecological movement in which leading roles are often played by people who have little or no time for formal religion. In this way he shows that “the care of our shared or common home” should include people of all faiths and none as well as people of many political and philosophical persuasions. Already one Roman Catholic politician, Mr Jeb Bush, who is seeking the Republican nomination for the Presidency of the United States has declared that he does not take his politics from his Pope. This may go down well among the oil barons, but will take little away from a very important contribution by Pope Francis to the ecological debate.
The Pope has no problem in accepting Charles Darwin’s theories of evolution, but neither has his Church for a hundred years, even though some people still reject faith for that reason. They confuse the long-held acceptance by most churches that the Genesis stories about Adam and Eve are parables, and not as creationists in the American South claim, statements of fact. Pope Francis makes clever and sensible use of those parables to point out that the Biblical story which says God gave man and woman dominion over the earth does not imply absolute domination over other creatures. “The Biblical texts tell us,” he writes, “to ‘till and keep’ the garden of the world.” Tilling in this context refers to cultivation, while keeping means caring, protecting, preserving and overseeing. The Pope’s choice of the name Francis after the Saint of Assisi was in itself a hint at care for the earth and its creatures.
The importance the Pope gives to the Sabbath came as a surprise to me, and is described as “a key element of Biblical ecology” because rest on the seventh day is meant not just for human beings, but in the Biblical context: “that your ox and your donkey may have rest.” He is not hung up on the notion of breaking the Sabbath as a sin, but he stresses the importance of rest for both human and animal. This rest has a twofold purpose, to ensure balance and fairness in the relationships between the human inhabitants and the land on which they live and work. Again, he gives this a Biblical context: “The gift of the earth with its fruits belongs to everyone: those who tilled and kept the land were obliged to share its fruits, especially with the poor, the widows, orphans and foreigners in their midst.” We can easily forget in this part of the world that the vast majority of people in the world live in societies closer to Biblical experiences than to modern urban or European standards of living.
Pope Francis does not confine his arguments to the Western Christian, Catholic or Jewish traditions. He quotes leaders from Orthodox churches, as well as a Sufi mystic, the ninth century Muslim poet, Ali-Al-Khawas. He also praises the work of the worldwide ecological movement in which leading roles are often played by people who have little or no time for formal religion. In this way he shows that “the care of our shared or common home” should include people of all faiths and none as well as people of many political and philosophical persuasions. Already one Roman Catholic politician, Mr Jeb Bush, who is seeking the Republican nomination for the Presidency of the United States has declared that he does not take his politics from his Pope. This may go down well among the oil barons, but will take little away from a very important contribution by Pope Francis to the ecological debate.