Week ending January 28th 2014
As we approach the feast of Saint Bridget, the Irish first day of Spring, though not the meteorological one, we hope that the stormy winter weather we endured over Christmas and the new year is well behind us. While we remember recent winters for frost and snow, we will tend to remember the most recent one for amber and red warnings of impending storms. Gales tend to frighten people more than anything else. As I visited people who were sick or housebound, talk was mainly of threatened storms and the fear they bring. Those who live near the sea become particularly frightened. Folk memories of deaths or damage probably go back as far as Oíche na Gaoithe Móire, the Night of the Big Wind in 1839 which devastated much of the country. Even though some recent storms were almost as severe, most houses are much more strongly built than the hovels in which people had to live in 1839. Generally speaking people will remember 2013 as a good year, and if we get a similar summer this year we will have little to complain about.
Apart from the longer evenings and the sprouting shoots of new life I like Saint Bridget’s Day in particular for the revival in popularity of the Saint’s cross. It is not that it ever came close to disappearing, but its value seems to be recognised much more from year to year. Beautifully simple in its various designs, it was a religious symbol made from some of the most available materials, straw, rushes or hazel. It did not cost anything which was a most important consideration in earlier times of hardship and penal laws. Hard times have returned for many families, to the extent that there is hardly a cent to spare, but the materials for the Saint Bridget’s cross are still readily available. I hope they bring many blessings to those who make them and put them up in their homes.
Another blessing available in churches this week is the blessing of candles on Candlemas Day, the second of February. How quickly the forty days since Christmas have flown by. This fortieth day was the one on which Jesus was brought to the Temple according to Jewish custom to be presented to the Lord. It is called Presentation Day for that reason, as well as Candlemas. It was the day on which Mary was told that things were not going to be easy for her son, that a sword would pierce her soul too. Traditionally it has been the day on which candles used in churches are blessed as well as candles lit in homes at times of danger, death or wakes. In almost any shop you enter at this time of year you can see such long wax candles for sale, but there is no hard and fast rule that only wax candles can be blest on the day.
I have worn my ‘going to Blaises’ joke thin over the years, but that is what I and many others will be doing on February 3rd, the feast of Saint Blaise, the saint associated with the blessing of throats. This has become one of the most popular ceremonies of the year in many churches. In times of flu and various other illnesses this blessing is appreciated. It is one of the nearest things we have to the traditional healing method of the laying on of hands. I am not suggesting that you should ignore doctor’s orders and forget the flu vaccine or other medicines. The medicines and the blessings do not contradict but complement each other, as well as building up the self confidence needed to face what is left of winter. The first days of February are great times for such blessings. All of them are free, available and there for the taking.
Apart from the longer evenings and the sprouting shoots of new life I like Saint Bridget’s Day in particular for the revival in popularity of the Saint’s cross. It is not that it ever came close to disappearing, but its value seems to be recognised much more from year to year. Beautifully simple in its various designs, it was a religious symbol made from some of the most available materials, straw, rushes or hazel. It did not cost anything which was a most important consideration in earlier times of hardship and penal laws. Hard times have returned for many families, to the extent that there is hardly a cent to spare, but the materials for the Saint Bridget’s cross are still readily available. I hope they bring many blessings to those who make them and put them up in their homes.
Another blessing available in churches this week is the blessing of candles on Candlemas Day, the second of February. How quickly the forty days since Christmas have flown by. This fortieth day was the one on which Jesus was brought to the Temple according to Jewish custom to be presented to the Lord. It is called Presentation Day for that reason, as well as Candlemas. It was the day on which Mary was told that things were not going to be easy for her son, that a sword would pierce her soul too. Traditionally it has been the day on which candles used in churches are blessed as well as candles lit in homes at times of danger, death or wakes. In almost any shop you enter at this time of year you can see such long wax candles for sale, but there is no hard and fast rule that only wax candles can be blest on the day.
I have worn my ‘going to Blaises’ joke thin over the years, but that is what I and many others will be doing on February 3rd, the feast of Saint Blaise, the saint associated with the blessing of throats. This has become one of the most popular ceremonies of the year in many churches. In times of flu and various other illnesses this blessing is appreciated. It is one of the nearest things we have to the traditional healing method of the laying on of hands. I am not suggesting that you should ignore doctor’s orders and forget the flu vaccine or other medicines. The medicines and the blessings do not contradict but complement each other, as well as building up the self confidence needed to face what is left of winter. The first days of February are great times for such blessings. All of them are free, available and there for the taking.
Week ending January 21st 2014
It was a great pleasure to be able to give mass-servers in Cill Chiaráin and Carna a copy each for Christmas of a little book I had written for their age-group. Thirty copies of “Coranna” reached me from publisher’s Cló-Iar-Chonnacht just in time to become presents for servers and other young people who had composed prayers and poems with which to celebrate the feast. I mentioned the story here some months ago while expressing my delight that it had been accepted for publication, even though I did not expect at the time that it would be out in time for Christmas. I also read it in NUIG Galway when I was invited to take part in a literary evening with other Irish language writers.
It is a discipline in itself for someone who is used to writing for adults to pitch a story at the level of an eight to twelve year old, sophisticated and all as young people of that age are at the moment. To have a horse at the centre of the story is a great help. Even in the age of i-pods and i-pads, tablets and e-books, a horse is still capable of galloping away with a young person’s imagination. Coranna is of course that hero of a horse which won the Chester Cup and thousands of pounds for the Moores of Moorehall during the Great Famine of the 1840’s. Some of the money was used to help their tenants survive the consequences of the potato blight. Almost one hundred and seventy years later the Moores continue to be seen with very good reason as among the best of Irish landlords from the nineteenth century. It would seem that £1,000 was set aside, £500 for work projects and £500 for direct charity, even though legend suggests that all of the winnings were used to help the tenents.
When I look around me in Carna church which was built just before those Famine years through the work of Fr. Peter Conway who played a major part in building five other churches in the Archdiocese of Tuam, including St Mary’s church, Partry, I try to imagine conditions at the time and the difference prize-money of £1,000 must have made to people’s lives. It would probably something like a hundred thousand euros nowadays. Adrian Frazier in his biography of George Moore the novelist (George Moore, 1852 – 1933, Yale University Press, 2000) suggests that the writer’s father George Henry, a daring jockey and horseman, later to become an MP in Westminister, was a gambler who won and lost quite a lot of money and land in his time. This does not take away from the families’ generosity or the legend that is Coranna.
Any story of generosity is an inspiring parable which is my main reason for telling it to a new generation of children. My other agenda is of course to provide a readable and hopefully interesting story in the Irish language. The younger George Moore claimed when he came back to live in Dublin and found the Gaelic League (Conradh na Gaeilge) in full swing that he would write a novel in Irish that would be so good that people would learn the language to read it. I can not make such a claim for “Coranna” but I hope young people will be surprised to find that it is an easy and I hope enjoyable read.
It is a discipline in itself for someone who is used to writing for adults to pitch a story at the level of an eight to twelve year old, sophisticated and all as young people of that age are at the moment. To have a horse at the centre of the story is a great help. Even in the age of i-pods and i-pads, tablets and e-books, a horse is still capable of galloping away with a young person’s imagination. Coranna is of course that hero of a horse which won the Chester Cup and thousands of pounds for the Moores of Moorehall during the Great Famine of the 1840’s. Some of the money was used to help their tenants survive the consequences of the potato blight. Almost one hundred and seventy years later the Moores continue to be seen with very good reason as among the best of Irish landlords from the nineteenth century. It would seem that £1,000 was set aside, £500 for work projects and £500 for direct charity, even though legend suggests that all of the winnings were used to help the tenents.
When I look around me in Carna church which was built just before those Famine years through the work of Fr. Peter Conway who played a major part in building five other churches in the Archdiocese of Tuam, including St Mary’s church, Partry, I try to imagine conditions at the time and the difference prize-money of £1,000 must have made to people’s lives. It would probably something like a hundred thousand euros nowadays. Adrian Frazier in his biography of George Moore the novelist (George Moore, 1852 – 1933, Yale University Press, 2000) suggests that the writer’s father George Henry, a daring jockey and horseman, later to become an MP in Westminister, was a gambler who won and lost quite a lot of money and land in his time. This does not take away from the families’ generosity or the legend that is Coranna.
Any story of generosity is an inspiring parable which is my main reason for telling it to a new generation of children. My other agenda is of course to provide a readable and hopefully interesting story in the Irish language. The younger George Moore claimed when he came back to live in Dublin and found the Gaelic League (Conradh na Gaeilge) in full swing that he would write a novel in Irish that would be so good that people would learn the language to read it. I can not make such a claim for “Coranna” but I hope young people will be surprised to find that it is an easy and I hope enjoyable read.
Week ending January 14th 2014
We are often told that the mills of God grind slowly, but we know from experience that they eventually grind out results, none more so than in what we call ecumenism. More than forty years ago I decided to never let the Octave of Prayer for Christian Unity go by without mentioning it in article or sermon, or prayers of the faithful, or all three. It was not that I was ever based in any area of sectarian or religious conflict, but history had made me aware of the divisiveness it caused. I remember the sea-change that came about in inter-church relations in the early sixties by what seemed like a subtle change in attitude by Pope John XX111. I know now that this process called the ecumenical movement had been going on for a long time at that stage but it was not really noticed until a Pope more or less told us we didn’t have to hate Protestants any more.
This came as a great relief to many Roman Catholic people. They could not understand why they were not permitted to enter a Protestant church for the funeral of a neighbour they held in great respect. Here was a Pope saying we should look more at what we have in common than what separates us. The same Pope’s attitude had probably been shaped somewhat by the time he, as Cardinal Roncalli, had spent in Instanbul or Constantinoble as a diplomat, a place which was a melting-pot of many different religions, Orthodox, Muslim, Catholic, Protestant and Jew, all of whom worshipped the same God in different ways and see Abraham as their father in faith.
I have often mentioned that I did not really understand the word ‘process’ until the peace process started in Northern Ireland. I knew what the word meant, but had never really teased out its implications. I know now that it is basically a slow burner, something that bubbles away at the back of the stove of life, virtually ignored until we wake up one day and realise that subtle changes have taken place in an age-old problem. I sometimes recall the many New Year’s Days we all prayed for peace in Northern Ireland while basically thinking that our prayer didn’t have a hope in hell. Murder and mayhem seemed to go on and on. Thankfully it was not hell we were praying to. The process bubbled away for many years, two steps forward and one step backward or vice-versa. Suddenly we realise that all the efforts of politicians on all sides, North and South, Ireland, Britain, the United States and Europe have come to fruition. The process is still slow and painful in many ways, but to a great extent our hopes and prayers for peace have been answered, even though dissidents still lurk in the background and issues from the past have still to be resolved..
The ecumenical movement, the inter-church movement is a similar process, a slow burner. I mentioned one Pope whose attitude virtually changed a world view. When history is written it will be seen that Pope John Paul 11 and Pope Benedict XVI did more than most to defuse anti-Muslim sentiment after the nine/eleven bombings which tended to tar all followers of the prophet Mahomed with the same brush. Pope Francis is following in the same tradition. We knew from our own experience that neither all Catholics or all Protestants, nor many of either were terrorists during our own troubles, and that most Muslims wanted nothing to do with terrorism either. Popes reaching out the hand of friendship have helped to get that attitude across to the world. Thank God for slow burners, for processes.
This came as a great relief to many Roman Catholic people. They could not understand why they were not permitted to enter a Protestant church for the funeral of a neighbour they held in great respect. Here was a Pope saying we should look more at what we have in common than what separates us. The same Pope’s attitude had probably been shaped somewhat by the time he, as Cardinal Roncalli, had spent in Instanbul or Constantinoble as a diplomat, a place which was a melting-pot of many different religions, Orthodox, Muslim, Catholic, Protestant and Jew, all of whom worshipped the same God in different ways and see Abraham as their father in faith.
I have often mentioned that I did not really understand the word ‘process’ until the peace process started in Northern Ireland. I knew what the word meant, but had never really teased out its implications. I know now that it is basically a slow burner, something that bubbles away at the back of the stove of life, virtually ignored until we wake up one day and realise that subtle changes have taken place in an age-old problem. I sometimes recall the many New Year’s Days we all prayed for peace in Northern Ireland while basically thinking that our prayer didn’t have a hope in hell. Murder and mayhem seemed to go on and on. Thankfully it was not hell we were praying to. The process bubbled away for many years, two steps forward and one step backward or vice-versa. Suddenly we realise that all the efforts of politicians on all sides, North and South, Ireland, Britain, the United States and Europe have come to fruition. The process is still slow and painful in many ways, but to a great extent our hopes and prayers for peace have been answered, even though dissidents still lurk in the background and issues from the past have still to be resolved..
The ecumenical movement, the inter-church movement is a similar process, a slow burner. I mentioned one Pope whose attitude virtually changed a world view. When history is written it will be seen that Pope John Paul 11 and Pope Benedict XVI did more than most to defuse anti-Muslim sentiment after the nine/eleven bombings which tended to tar all followers of the prophet Mahomed with the same brush. Pope Francis is following in the same tradition. We knew from our own experience that neither all Catholics or all Protestants, nor many of either were terrorists during our own troubles, and that most Muslims wanted nothing to do with terrorism either. Popes reaching out the hand of friendship have helped to get that attitude across to the world. Thank God for slow burners, for processes.
Week ending January 7th 2014
In more than forty-two years behind the altar I have never been accused of being ‘a holy priest.’ I just don’t seem to give off the right vibe, cultivate the right image. The thing about real holy priests of course is that they don’t have to cultivate anything. They look the part. They are the part already. Whatever odour I emit is definitely not the odour of sanctity. When a parishioner tells me that they have been looking for me all over the place, and I ask: “Did you not look in the newsletter? I had Mass at that time. I was actually in the church?” The answer inevitibly is: “I never thought of looking there.”
One of the great benefits of modern technology is that we can check our phones to see have we had any calls while we were in the church or elsewhere. The advantage of being able to divert the landline on to the mobile is that we can take calls almost anywhere or anytime, but certain times are off limits, and one of those is God-time. We can not really interrupt Mass to say to God or the congregation: “I/m wanted on line one. God actually thinks that he is on line one.
Reputation is a tough taskmaster. A person is stuck with whatever reputation they wittingly or otherwise gain at virtually the first glance. If a clergyman gains a reputation for ‘liking a pint’ the cans of draught come out after the Station Mass. He might prefer a whiskey or brandy so that the gas will not keep him awake half the night, but feels it inappropriate to appear ungrateful for the beer. It is much the same with the holiness tag – you have it or you don’t, and no amount of prayer, fasting or abstinence is going to gain it for you.
I am thinking of turning to an image consultant in the near future. Surely some of those image quacks who advise politicians to lower their voices and get the bad news out first can help put a halo around my head and give me a pair of knees that look as if they have been really knelt on. Any sportsman or woman who is worth their salt has had to recover from at least one cruciate knee ligament injury. If someone in my business could manage to manufacture a couple of those injuries from dropping on his knees to pray, he would have to gain a reputation for holiness.
I have always been of the opinion that people need a sinner of a priest who can identify with them and they with him more than someone ‘holier than thou’ whose head is up among the angels most of the time. The rogue is needed more than the saint. This is in the tradition of the one who said that he came not to call saints but sinners to repent. It is what can be called the incarnational approach, the Son of God/Son of humanity getting down and dirty among tax collectors and sinners, the toxic people of his day in the eyes of the wise, or is it the unwise?
Jesus was so exasperated at one stage at the unwarranted criticism levelled at him about the company he kept that he pointed to the fact that his cousin John the Baptist had been faulted for being a rough diamond, the voice in the wilderness who gave off the image of abstinence and austerity. Jesus on the other hand was called a drunk and a glutton because he ate and drank in the company of both rich and poor. You can’t win, even if you are Son of God/Son of Mary and your cousin wears a hairshirt in the desert.
One of the great benefits of modern technology is that we can check our phones to see have we had any calls while we were in the church or elsewhere. The advantage of being able to divert the landline on to the mobile is that we can take calls almost anywhere or anytime, but certain times are off limits, and one of those is God-time. We can not really interrupt Mass to say to God or the congregation: “I/m wanted on line one. God actually thinks that he is on line one.
Reputation is a tough taskmaster. A person is stuck with whatever reputation they wittingly or otherwise gain at virtually the first glance. If a clergyman gains a reputation for ‘liking a pint’ the cans of draught come out after the Station Mass. He might prefer a whiskey or brandy so that the gas will not keep him awake half the night, but feels it inappropriate to appear ungrateful for the beer. It is much the same with the holiness tag – you have it or you don’t, and no amount of prayer, fasting or abstinence is going to gain it for you.
I am thinking of turning to an image consultant in the near future. Surely some of those image quacks who advise politicians to lower their voices and get the bad news out first can help put a halo around my head and give me a pair of knees that look as if they have been really knelt on. Any sportsman or woman who is worth their salt has had to recover from at least one cruciate knee ligament injury. If someone in my business could manage to manufacture a couple of those injuries from dropping on his knees to pray, he would have to gain a reputation for holiness.
I have always been of the opinion that people need a sinner of a priest who can identify with them and they with him more than someone ‘holier than thou’ whose head is up among the angels most of the time. The rogue is needed more than the saint. This is in the tradition of the one who said that he came not to call saints but sinners to repent. It is what can be called the incarnational approach, the Son of God/Son of humanity getting down and dirty among tax collectors and sinners, the toxic people of his day in the eyes of the wise, or is it the unwise?
Jesus was so exasperated at one stage at the unwarranted criticism levelled at him about the company he kept that he pointed to the fact that his cousin John the Baptist had been faulted for being a rough diamond, the voice in the wilderness who gave off the image of abstinence and austerity. Jesus on the other hand was called a drunk and a glutton because he ate and drank in the company of both rich and poor. You can’t win, even if you are Son of God/Son of Mary and your cousin wears a hairshirt in the desert.