Week ending 29th September 2009 www.tourmakeady.com
Have I ever told you of the night I slept in a field with a hundred thousand women? I did tell you actually, at the last ten year’s anniversary of Pope John Paul 11’s visit to Ireland, thirty years ago. There were at least a hundred thousand men in that field (Galway Racecourse) too, in case you get the wrong impression. A joke like that is probably not politically correct in this day and age, but I don’t mind breaking through the PC barrier this weekend as I am away enjoying (hopefully) the last twelve days of my annual holidays.
As someone who has lived through more than twenty-three thousand days and nights, I am surprised to find that I have probably spent less than thirty of those nights in the open air. Nights climbing Croagh Patrick come to mind as well as fair days on the roads to Balla or Castlebar, though on many of those occasions I would have caught an hour or two of sleep first. There were a few all-night vigils in Knock or on the eve of the pattern day in Inis Oirr. Those were the only occasions (so far) that I spent a night in a cemetery, as the chapel of St Caomhán (Inis Oirr’s patron saint) is below ground level in the great mound of sand which contains that cemetery.
The night in Ballybrit racecourse was above all a festive occasion. Many people here in Mayo journeyed to Knock to see and hear the Pope the following evening, but as I was a curate in Conamara my focus was on Galway with a group from the Carraroe Youth Club. I remember spending much of Saturday at a wedding reception in Salthill before returning for evening Masses – Sunday Masses had been dispensed with for the Papal visit. We set out relatively early for Galway, found our ‘corral’ as the fenced off areas designated for different groups were called, and stretched out on bales of hay to await the dawn.
Memory may be clouded by time but the way I remember it was a great sense of anticipation as well as much banter and laughter as the time approached for the Pope’s arrival. Eventually the helicopter came into view and circled around to give everyone a view of the Pope waving a blessing before it landed. There were five or six corrals between our group and the big altar so we could just get an occasional glimpse of his Holiness as Mass started. The racecourse rocked when he announced: “Young people of Ireland, I love you.” The rest is a blur, the movement of vast crowds when it was all over, the slow progress of traffic, eventually home, tired but happy.
What strikes me most as I look back is how quickly time has flown. I will leave it to others to analyse the visit, to query whether or not it was a milestone in Irish life or in the life of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland. Some see it as an innocent time before the scandals, but we know from the Ryan and other reports the scandals were there even if they had not yet broken. Politically it was a difficult time, a month or so after the assassination of Lord Mountbatten in Mullaghmore outside Sligo. The hunger strikes were just around the corner, the Pope’s appeal ‘on bended knees’ to end the violence unheard. We could hardly have imagined then the relative peace of the present time. It would be easy to read too much into the Papal visit. Above all it was a celebration, a few days in a far-off September not easily forgotten.
As someone who has lived through more than twenty-three thousand days and nights, I am surprised to find that I have probably spent less than thirty of those nights in the open air. Nights climbing Croagh Patrick come to mind as well as fair days on the roads to Balla or Castlebar, though on many of those occasions I would have caught an hour or two of sleep first. There were a few all-night vigils in Knock or on the eve of the pattern day in Inis Oirr. Those were the only occasions (so far) that I spent a night in a cemetery, as the chapel of St Caomhán (Inis Oirr’s patron saint) is below ground level in the great mound of sand which contains that cemetery.
The night in Ballybrit racecourse was above all a festive occasion. Many people here in Mayo journeyed to Knock to see and hear the Pope the following evening, but as I was a curate in Conamara my focus was on Galway with a group from the Carraroe Youth Club. I remember spending much of Saturday at a wedding reception in Salthill before returning for evening Masses – Sunday Masses had been dispensed with for the Papal visit. We set out relatively early for Galway, found our ‘corral’ as the fenced off areas designated for different groups were called, and stretched out on bales of hay to await the dawn.
Memory may be clouded by time but the way I remember it was a great sense of anticipation as well as much banter and laughter as the time approached for the Pope’s arrival. Eventually the helicopter came into view and circled around to give everyone a view of the Pope waving a blessing before it landed. There were five or six corrals between our group and the big altar so we could just get an occasional glimpse of his Holiness as Mass started. The racecourse rocked when he announced: “Young people of Ireland, I love you.” The rest is a blur, the movement of vast crowds when it was all over, the slow progress of traffic, eventually home, tired but happy.
What strikes me most as I look back is how quickly time has flown. I will leave it to others to analyse the visit, to query whether or not it was a milestone in Irish life or in the life of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland. Some see it as an innocent time before the scandals, but we know from the Ryan and other reports the scandals were there even if they had not yet broken. Politically it was a difficult time, a month or so after the assassination of Lord Mountbatten in Mullaghmore outside Sligo. The hunger strikes were just around the corner, the Pope’s appeal ‘on bended knees’ to end the violence unheard. We could hardly have imagined then the relative peace of the present time. It would be easy to read too much into the Papal visit. Above all it was a celebration, a few days in a far-off September not easily forgotten.
Week ending 22nd September 2009
In so far as we know Jesus didn’t wear boots, but if he did I sure he would have been tempted from time to time to plant one of them firmly on the rear end of one or more of his disciples. Sandals would not have had the same effect. But he was a patient man who realised that it was a difficult task to get across who he was and what he hoped to achieve. The disciples would seem to have been a nice easygoing crowd who were glad to have got a break from the hardship of fishing, but who wondered what in the name of God had they let themselves in for.
Their questions betrayed their naivety and lack of understanding of what Jesus was about, but he never resorted to asking: “Are you stupid or what?” He knew that for the most part their hearts were in the right place. They would do anything for him and they eventually did. They died for their faith, but by then they understood what he was about. It was not to restore the political kingdom of Israel but to try and organise another kind of kingdom, a kingdom of justice, love and peace in which the will of God would be done on earth as it is in heaven.
That ideal is as far away now as it was then but in the meantime thousands of millions have had a shot at it. Some succeeded pretty well and we call the most obvious of them saints. Others set out bravely on the idealistic road, and as we learned from the Ryan and other reports, ended up doing more harm than good. In between are the unknown saints and sinners who struggled to do their best with the hand life dealt them. In the end it is only the Just Judge, the one who knows the heart, that can tell how it all went.
One of the great sources of consolation and inspiration for the struggling Christian is to look at the disciples of Jesus. Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him. James and John looked for the best places in his kingdom. They all chickened out when he was arrested and went into hiding. John was the only one with enough courage to accompany Jesus’ mother Mary and her friends to the foot of the cross. Thomas, in a ‘seeing is believing’ mood, publicly doubted his resurrection. “With friends like these…” you might say.
But then there was the other side to them. There was Peter’s powerful declaration of faith: “You are the Christ. (Mk: 8: 29) There was his reply to Jesus’ question: “What about you? Do you want to go away too?” “Lord, who shall we go to?” the big-hearted fisherman answered. “You have the message of eternal life, and we believe: we know that you are the holy one of God.” (John 6:69) With a declaration of faith like that, Peter didn’t need to sing for his spiritual supper for a long time.
The cowards of Calvary turned out to be the brave-hearts of Pentecost. Literally inspired by the Spirit of God, the spirit of Jesus risen from the dead, they put their lives on the line for Jesus and his message. They had come a long way from the naïve fishermen who dreamt of fame and prestige as they hooked themselves to the Jesus bandwagon. Two thousand years later they are still remembered in ways they would never have dreamt of.
Their questions betrayed their naivety and lack of understanding of what Jesus was about, but he never resorted to asking: “Are you stupid or what?” He knew that for the most part their hearts were in the right place. They would do anything for him and they eventually did. They died for their faith, but by then they understood what he was about. It was not to restore the political kingdom of Israel but to try and organise another kind of kingdom, a kingdom of justice, love and peace in which the will of God would be done on earth as it is in heaven.
That ideal is as far away now as it was then but in the meantime thousands of millions have had a shot at it. Some succeeded pretty well and we call the most obvious of them saints. Others set out bravely on the idealistic road, and as we learned from the Ryan and other reports, ended up doing more harm than good. In between are the unknown saints and sinners who struggled to do their best with the hand life dealt them. In the end it is only the Just Judge, the one who knows the heart, that can tell how it all went.
One of the great sources of consolation and inspiration for the struggling Christian is to look at the disciples of Jesus. Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him. James and John looked for the best places in his kingdom. They all chickened out when he was arrested and went into hiding. John was the only one with enough courage to accompany Jesus’ mother Mary and her friends to the foot of the cross. Thomas, in a ‘seeing is believing’ mood, publicly doubted his resurrection. “With friends like these…” you might say.
But then there was the other side to them. There was Peter’s powerful declaration of faith: “You are the Christ. (Mk: 8: 29) There was his reply to Jesus’ question: “What about you? Do you want to go away too?” “Lord, who shall we go to?” the big-hearted fisherman answered. “You have the message of eternal life, and we believe: we know that you are the holy one of God.” (John 6:69) With a declaration of faith like that, Peter didn’t need to sing for his spiritual supper for a long time.
The cowards of Calvary turned out to be the brave-hearts of Pentecost. Literally inspired by the Spirit of God, the spirit of Jesus risen from the dead, they put their lives on the line for Jesus and his message. They had come a long way from the naïve fishermen who dreamt of fame and prestige as they hooked themselves to the Jesus bandwagon. Two thousand years later they are still remembered in ways they would never have dreamt of.
Week ending 15th September 2009
The funeral of An t-Athair Micheál O Fátharta (Fr. Michael Faherty) in Parke recently brought many memories back to me of a giant of a man with whom I had shared many pleasant occasions in the seventies and eighties of the last century. We were fellow curates in the parish of An Cheathrú Rua (Carraroe) under the Parish Priestship of Fr. Máirtín Lang, well known in Castlebar where his father was station-master, Máirtín was born in Dublin and sang in the Palestrina Choir the last time Ireland held a Eucharistic Congress, in 1932. The fourth priest in the parish, An t-Ath Tomás O Mainnín was chaplain to the Comprehensive School, Scoil Chuimsitheach Chiaráin.
Fr. Micheál O Fátharta was affectionately known as ‘Sagart Jim’ in the island of Inis Meáin in the Aran Islands, the only priest from that island in living memory and legend. His father was known as ‘Séamus a.Bhéarla’ as he had learned English mainly from dictionaries and other books, to help him deal with business people in Galway from whom he ordered provisions for the only pub in the island. Séamus tended to use bigger words than most when speaking English, as his teacher had been the dictionary more than anything else. I got to know him when curate to Inis Meáin and Inis Oirr between 1971 and ’75. He was a great character.
My abiding memory of “An Fáthartach Mór” as Fr. Micheál was often called in Conamara, was his ability with language. Equally fluent in Irish and English he did wonderful work while in the Gaeltacht in translating scripture to the language of the people. As most of us priests were blow-ins to the Gaeltacht, he took it on himself to provide us each week with the following weekend’s readings in simple colloquial Irish, so much more easy to understand in Connacht than much of what is in the missal, which was mostly translated by Munster-men.
Many of us urged him to have this material published, but he was told by liturgical experts that it would all have to be scrutinised and passed by scholars before it could get official approval. His Irish fluency and his ability to put profound thoughts in simple phrases was certainly missed by those of us who floundered on in Gaelic after he moved as Parish Priest to Parke. We were reminded at his funeral Mass of the work he organised there on the community centre, the church and the cemeteries.
An amusing anecdote told by Archbishop’s Secretary, Fr. Fintan Monaghan in his homily referred to An t-Ath Micheál’s sojourn in Annaghdown, where he had organised major repairs to the church. As Annaghdown was an independent diocese before being incorporated in Tuam, the title ‘bishop of Annaghdown is still given to auxiliary bishops who have no diocese of their own. Bishop Derek Mahon of Westminister had that title twenty or so years ago, so he was invited to the celebrations involved in the re-dedication of ‘his’ church. When leaving he was presented with a salmon ‘poached but not in the cooking sense’ we were told, as well as two bottles of equally illicit poteen. It must have made him feel that Annaghdown was still independent.
As an Aran islander Micheál O Fátharta was as skilful with the oars of a currach as he was in translating scripture or organising parish projects. May he share a transom with the one who stilled the waters and calmed the sea? Ar dheis Dé go raibh sé.
Fr. Micheál O Fátharta was affectionately known as ‘Sagart Jim’ in the island of Inis Meáin in the Aran Islands, the only priest from that island in living memory and legend. His father was known as ‘Séamus a.Bhéarla’ as he had learned English mainly from dictionaries and other books, to help him deal with business people in Galway from whom he ordered provisions for the only pub in the island. Séamus tended to use bigger words than most when speaking English, as his teacher had been the dictionary more than anything else. I got to know him when curate to Inis Meáin and Inis Oirr between 1971 and ’75. He was a great character.
My abiding memory of “An Fáthartach Mór” as Fr. Micheál was often called in Conamara, was his ability with language. Equally fluent in Irish and English he did wonderful work while in the Gaeltacht in translating scripture to the language of the people. As most of us priests were blow-ins to the Gaeltacht, he took it on himself to provide us each week with the following weekend’s readings in simple colloquial Irish, so much more easy to understand in Connacht than much of what is in the missal, which was mostly translated by Munster-men.
Many of us urged him to have this material published, but he was told by liturgical experts that it would all have to be scrutinised and passed by scholars before it could get official approval. His Irish fluency and his ability to put profound thoughts in simple phrases was certainly missed by those of us who floundered on in Gaelic after he moved as Parish Priest to Parke. We were reminded at his funeral Mass of the work he organised there on the community centre, the church and the cemeteries.
An amusing anecdote told by Archbishop’s Secretary, Fr. Fintan Monaghan in his homily referred to An t-Ath Micheál’s sojourn in Annaghdown, where he had organised major repairs to the church. As Annaghdown was an independent diocese before being incorporated in Tuam, the title ‘bishop of Annaghdown is still given to auxiliary bishops who have no diocese of their own. Bishop Derek Mahon of Westminister had that title twenty or so years ago, so he was invited to the celebrations involved in the re-dedication of ‘his’ church. When leaving he was presented with a salmon ‘poached but not in the cooking sense’ we were told, as well as two bottles of equally illicit poteen. It must have made him feel that Annaghdown was still independent.
As an Aran islander Micheál O Fátharta was as skilful with the oars of a currach as he was in translating scripture or organising parish projects. May he share a transom with the one who stilled the waters and calmed the sea? Ar dheis Dé go raibh sé.
Week ending 8th September 2009
It is a sign of the practical co-operation between Christian churches that interim advice on the H1N1 (Swine Flu) Pandemic from the Archbishops and Bishops of the Church of Ireland have been passed on to Roman Catholic parishes. The advice is, as you would expect eminently practical and is similar to Health Service Executive guidelines, the advice given in TV ads, or the advice you would get from your local doctor, nurse, or for that matter, from your mother.
The obvious advice is to take normal precautions to avoid catching or spreading the swine flu. This involves more than anything the washing of hands. “Personal cleanliness at all times should be the invariable watchword whether or not a pandemic situation obtains. In the case of tissues, careful and hygienic disposal is absolutely essential. Thorough hand washing is just as effective and disposal is provided for via the waste disposal system Respiratory masks have been widely advertised as ineffective.”
Another important piece of advice is not to panic. Keep a sense of proportion. As regards church-going – “If you feel ill and display influenza-like symptoms stay at home. Do not come to church services unless you feel well. Do not call the clergy for pastoral visitation unless that you are told by a medical professional that your situation is grave. The symptoms to be aware of in the case of the H1N1 strain of flu include fever, cough, sore throat, muscle pains and gastrointestinal symptoms.”
Those guidelines were issued at the beginning of August when there seemed to be more of a threat from swine flu than has materialised in the meantime. There was a fear that holidaymakers could bring more of the virus into the country or that Irish people on holiday would have the flu home with them. The flu seems to have established itself in the country in the meantime, but in a relatively mild form so far, thankfully. People still need to stay alert as a more serious strain may manifest itself during the winter.
It was ironic that at a time when people were being advised to wash their hands to prevent the flu virus spreading that a Sunday gospel story gave the impression that Jesus was casual about his own disciples washing theirs. (Mark, chapter seven.) What was at issue in that case was a ritual washing that may have started at the time of some long forgotten flu or plague and became part of the Jewish preparation for a meal.
Jesus was asked by the Scribes and Pharisees, staunch upholders of the law: “Why do your disciples not respect the tradition of the elders but eat their food with unclean hands?” There was more at stake here than the washing of hands, as Jesus was constantly at odds with those groups because they seemed to have more interest in the letter than the spirit of the law. “You put aside the commandments of God to cling to human traditions,” he told them, before pointing out that it is from inside the person rather than from outside “come the things that make them unclean.”
The obvious advice is to take normal precautions to avoid catching or spreading the swine flu. This involves more than anything the washing of hands. “Personal cleanliness at all times should be the invariable watchword whether or not a pandemic situation obtains. In the case of tissues, careful and hygienic disposal is absolutely essential. Thorough hand washing is just as effective and disposal is provided for via the waste disposal system Respiratory masks have been widely advertised as ineffective.”
Another important piece of advice is not to panic. Keep a sense of proportion. As regards church-going – “If you feel ill and display influenza-like symptoms stay at home. Do not come to church services unless you feel well. Do not call the clergy for pastoral visitation unless that you are told by a medical professional that your situation is grave. The symptoms to be aware of in the case of the H1N1 strain of flu include fever, cough, sore throat, muscle pains and gastrointestinal symptoms.”
Those guidelines were issued at the beginning of August when there seemed to be more of a threat from swine flu than has materialised in the meantime. There was a fear that holidaymakers could bring more of the virus into the country or that Irish people on holiday would have the flu home with them. The flu seems to have established itself in the country in the meantime, but in a relatively mild form so far, thankfully. People still need to stay alert as a more serious strain may manifest itself during the winter.
It was ironic that at a time when people were being advised to wash their hands to prevent the flu virus spreading that a Sunday gospel story gave the impression that Jesus was casual about his own disciples washing theirs. (Mark, chapter seven.) What was at issue in that case was a ritual washing that may have started at the time of some long forgotten flu or plague and became part of the Jewish preparation for a meal.
Jesus was asked by the Scribes and Pharisees, staunch upholders of the law: “Why do your disciples not respect the tradition of the elders but eat their food with unclean hands?” There was more at stake here than the washing of hands, as Jesus was constantly at odds with those groups because they seemed to have more interest in the letter than the spirit of the law. “You put aside the commandments of God to cling to human traditions,” he told them, before pointing out that it is from inside the person rather than from outside “come the things that make them unclean.”
Week ending 1st September 2009
Faith and food are once again my abiding memories after a second visit to the Father Patrick Peyton Centre in Attymass. Faith came first, of course, as it was the reason for my visit in the company of a medium sized busload of pilgrims from Tourmakeady and some adjoining parishes. A number of people home from foreign lands to visit their families also took part in a pleasant trip on one of the better and brighter days we had in a very wet August.
Everyone on the bus was young enough or old enough to remember when Father Patrick Peyton was a household name among Roman Catholics throughout the world. He was widely respected too by people of other denominations as well as some people of no religious faith at all. His rosary crusades attracted millions and his motto/mantra: “the family that prays together stays together” has gone down in history. As this is the centenary of his birth, it was an appropriate time to visit the centre built in his honour and his memory about ten years ago.
The Father Peyton Centre is above all else a place of prayer. It has a lovely little Oratory in which we had Mass, remembering among others Betty Bourke who died earlier in the year. Betty was the last of the old stock of Church of Ireland members in the parish, but that was no obstacle to her organising trips for the over-60’s club to Knock and to Attymass. The Centre’s garden is dedicated to the centrepiece of Father Peyton’s mission, a place of quiet reflection, with the mysteries of the rosary he loved and promoted, listed.
The Attymass Centre does not just cater for the soul, but has sustenance for the body as well. An excellent meal was served, with a choice of Moy salmon, ham or beef. The brown bread and scones are particularly delicious and I brought an armful of them to take with me for the freezer, since my usual source of brown bread is on holiday at present. We missed her on the bus but remembered her in prayer and conversation.
Walking around the grounds of the Father Patrick Peyton Centre I was particularly impressed by the big sign at the entrance. This has a picture of Fr. Peyton surrounded by leaders in prayer from other religious faiths and congregations, Hindu, Muslim, Jew, Protestant and other Christian denominations, as well as people in exotic costumes with bejewelled ears and noses. They represent people at prayer from many different backgrounds, cultures and belief systems, and show that this Centre has a wider scope than just the Roman Catholic tradition.
The motto/mantra on this sign is: “A world at prayer is a world at peace.” It would be hard to argue with that, even though some would point to suicide bombers praying with great conviction before going out to kill for their own particular causes. Others claim that religion in general is the cause of many of the wars and troubles in the world. Extremist versions of religion, yes, but among the fundamental principles of most religions are love and peace. A time of quiet reflection in Attymass certainly helps towards peace of mind.
Everyone on the bus was young enough or old enough to remember when Father Patrick Peyton was a household name among Roman Catholics throughout the world. He was widely respected too by people of other denominations as well as some people of no religious faith at all. His rosary crusades attracted millions and his motto/mantra: “the family that prays together stays together” has gone down in history. As this is the centenary of his birth, it was an appropriate time to visit the centre built in his honour and his memory about ten years ago.
The Father Peyton Centre is above all else a place of prayer. It has a lovely little Oratory in which we had Mass, remembering among others Betty Bourke who died earlier in the year. Betty was the last of the old stock of Church of Ireland members in the parish, but that was no obstacle to her organising trips for the over-60’s club to Knock and to Attymass. The Centre’s garden is dedicated to the centrepiece of Father Peyton’s mission, a place of quiet reflection, with the mysteries of the rosary he loved and promoted, listed.
The Attymass Centre does not just cater for the soul, but has sustenance for the body as well. An excellent meal was served, with a choice of Moy salmon, ham or beef. The brown bread and scones are particularly delicious and I brought an armful of them to take with me for the freezer, since my usual source of brown bread is on holiday at present. We missed her on the bus but remembered her in prayer and conversation.
Walking around the grounds of the Father Patrick Peyton Centre I was particularly impressed by the big sign at the entrance. This has a picture of Fr. Peyton surrounded by leaders in prayer from other religious faiths and congregations, Hindu, Muslim, Jew, Protestant and other Christian denominations, as well as people in exotic costumes with bejewelled ears and noses. They represent people at prayer from many different backgrounds, cultures and belief systems, and show that this Centre has a wider scope than just the Roman Catholic tradition.
The motto/mantra on this sign is: “A world at prayer is a world at peace.” It would be hard to argue with that, even though some would point to suicide bombers praying with great conviction before going out to kill for their own particular causes. Others claim that religion in general is the cause of many of the wars and troubles in the world. Extremist versions of religion, yes, but among the fundamental principles of most religions are love and peace. A time of quiet reflection in Attymass certainly helps towards peace of mind.