Week ending 29th March 2011 www.tourmakeady.com
The Stations of the
Cross are one of the traditional forms of Lenten prayer, although ‘doing the
stations’ is not confined to Lent. It is a way of walking the walk with Jesus
on his last journey before his crucifixion. Although people generally follow the
pictures in a booklet or a church as an aid to meditation, it is a form of
prayer that gives great scope to the imagination. The pictures are just a
guide. I notice that the same pictures are used here in Carna church as in my
previous posting in Tourmakeady. This shows they were mass produced and there
is nothing wrong with that. The paintings are realistic enough but do not
really show the pain and the suffering and the barbarity that were part of the
passion of Christ.
This is understandable. Just as parents would not allow their children watch the savagery depicted in Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of The Christ” and rightly so, the walls of a church can hardly be adorned with pictures aimed to frighten and upset people. Newer or restored churches tend to have more abstract Stations which leave more to the imagination while depicting the love of Mary or the compassion of Simon or Veronica. The Stations are not all about savagery or brutality, but about peoples reaction to those barbarities. The famous slogan of “The News of The World” – “All human life is there” could also be applied to the stations of the cross, even though the pictures are somewhat different.
The real ‘Station’ this Lent is not on the walls of a church but off and on the coastline of Japan. The horror of the earthquake and the tsunami that followed was almost beyond belief. This was compounded by the nuclear disasters waiting to happen.
It is too late now to bemoan the type of planning that let to more than fifty power plants of this kind being built on volatile teutonic plates on which the risk of earthquakes is so high. All of the emotions we encounter in the Stations of The Cross are there to see in the faces of the Japanese people, shock, horror, disbelief, loss as well as little successes in finding someone alive after many days or the kindnesses of strangers brought in to help with the relief work.
The Station that touches me most in the conventional Via Dolorosa or Way of Sorrow is the second last, generally known as The Pieta. It was the subject matter for Michaelangelo’s famous statue of that name, with Mary holding the cold body of her dead son in her arms after he has been taken down from the cross. There is a poignancy there that is repeated in every sad situation in which we see a parent parting with their child of any age. It always reminds me of John Millington Synge’s “Riders To The Sea” in which an island mother, Maurya, holds the body of her drowned son for the last time. What always struck me most was that mothers I saw in such situations on Irish islands were much younger than Maurya is generally played on stage.
I once calculated that I had personally known more than twenty young men who were lost at sea. Many more young men and women are lost on the roads or through suicide or cancer. Death at any age is a cause of sorrow, sadness and loss. The Way of Sorrow is not far away, and everyone gets to walk it at some stage. The consolation from a Christian point of view is that it is the road to the resurrection
This is understandable. Just as parents would not allow their children watch the savagery depicted in Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of The Christ” and rightly so, the walls of a church can hardly be adorned with pictures aimed to frighten and upset people. Newer or restored churches tend to have more abstract Stations which leave more to the imagination while depicting the love of Mary or the compassion of Simon or Veronica. The Stations are not all about savagery or brutality, but about peoples reaction to those barbarities. The famous slogan of “The News of The World” – “All human life is there” could also be applied to the stations of the cross, even though the pictures are somewhat different.
The real ‘Station’ this Lent is not on the walls of a church but off and on the coastline of Japan. The horror of the earthquake and the tsunami that followed was almost beyond belief. This was compounded by the nuclear disasters waiting to happen.
It is too late now to bemoan the type of planning that let to more than fifty power plants of this kind being built on volatile teutonic plates on which the risk of earthquakes is so high. All of the emotions we encounter in the Stations of The Cross are there to see in the faces of the Japanese people, shock, horror, disbelief, loss as well as little successes in finding someone alive after many days or the kindnesses of strangers brought in to help with the relief work.
The Station that touches me most in the conventional Via Dolorosa or Way of Sorrow is the second last, generally known as The Pieta. It was the subject matter for Michaelangelo’s famous statue of that name, with Mary holding the cold body of her dead son in her arms after he has been taken down from the cross. There is a poignancy there that is repeated in every sad situation in which we see a parent parting with their child of any age. It always reminds me of John Millington Synge’s “Riders To The Sea” in which an island mother, Maurya, holds the body of her drowned son for the last time. What always struck me most was that mothers I saw in such situations on Irish islands were much younger than Maurya is generally played on stage.
I once calculated that I had personally known more than twenty young men who were lost at sea. Many more young men and women are lost on the roads or through suicide or cancer. Death at any age is a cause of sorrow, sadness and loss. The Way of Sorrow is not far away, and everyone gets to walk it at some stage. The consolation from a Christian point of view is that it is the road to the resurrection
Week ending 22nd March 2011 www.tourmakeady.com
It is quite likely
that I will never say Mass in the English language again. In the normal scheme
of things, if I live for another ten years until priestly retirement, I will
have about four thousand Masses in that time. The Lord may have other plans. No,
not Rome,
Heaven. In the meantime I am on the home straight, in a Gaeltacht parish. The
new translation of the Roman missal into English which is due to come into
effect at the beginning of Advent (about four weeks from Christmas) is unlikely
to bother me or my congregation, but it is of increasing concern to many people
who are upset at the sexist language of that tranlation.
I sometimes wonder do the powers that be in the Roman Catholic church deliberately set out to give two fingers to common sense. Any translator worth his or her salt is surely capable of translating Latin in an inclusive way into English. Many priests and church readers do so as they read on a Saturday night or Sunday, making what they read inclusive at a moment’s notice, because thay realise that it is insulting to many in the congregation to say ‘man’ when they mean people. They will probably continue to do that when the new missal is introduced, but they should not need to. The translators themselves should be open and sensitive enough to do that for them.
The Irish language version of the Missal is not very suitable either in the Gaeltacht areas of Mayo, Galway and Donegal. Most of the translations are in the Munster dialect and many words are not readily understood in the other Gaeltachtaí. Don’t get me wrong. I am not criticising those who did the translations, an extraordinary feat given the circumstances of the time. The Irish itself is excellent, but from a colloquial point of view, quite difficult. Instead of making a big deal about it, some native Irish speakers from the West did their own translations in Irish suitable for their congregations and made them available in easily downloadable form for weekend and holyday Masses. One of the pioneers in this area was An tAthair Micheál Ó Fátharta, RIP, former Parish Priest of Parke.
This unofficial approach can be used with the English version too, but not until the battle for a proper inclusive translation has been fought and lost. I would love to say ‘fought and won,’ but once heels have been dug in, translations done and printing started, financial considerations as well as inclusive ones come into the equation. On the day I am writing this, for instance, I have had an e-mail from Veritas, the official publishing house of the Irish Heirarchy with a special offer if I get my order in early. I e-mailed back to say that I will not be interested until the translation has broad acceptance by people and their priests. That is an easy option for me, of course, as I will not be saying Mass in English anytime soon.
There used to be an old adage: “Man” always embraces “Woman” in the Bible, but that is not good enough any longer. Columban priest and campaigner on ecological issues has pointed out that the word “man” is no longer a common noun in the English langusge. I am glad to see that the fairly recently formed Association of Irish Priests has taken up the cudgels on this issue, and have met five of the Irish Bishops in Maynooth to discuss the issue. They have also called for the new translation of the Missal to be suspended until there is proper consultation with people. There is to a ‘listening process’ in many parts of the Archdiocese of Tuam, including the Gaeltacht, between now and Easter. “Let those who have ears hear.”
I sometimes wonder do the powers that be in the Roman Catholic church deliberately set out to give two fingers to common sense. Any translator worth his or her salt is surely capable of translating Latin in an inclusive way into English. Many priests and church readers do so as they read on a Saturday night or Sunday, making what they read inclusive at a moment’s notice, because thay realise that it is insulting to many in the congregation to say ‘man’ when they mean people. They will probably continue to do that when the new missal is introduced, but they should not need to. The translators themselves should be open and sensitive enough to do that for them.
The Irish language version of the Missal is not very suitable either in the Gaeltacht areas of Mayo, Galway and Donegal. Most of the translations are in the Munster dialect and many words are not readily understood in the other Gaeltachtaí. Don’t get me wrong. I am not criticising those who did the translations, an extraordinary feat given the circumstances of the time. The Irish itself is excellent, but from a colloquial point of view, quite difficult. Instead of making a big deal about it, some native Irish speakers from the West did their own translations in Irish suitable for their congregations and made them available in easily downloadable form for weekend and holyday Masses. One of the pioneers in this area was An tAthair Micheál Ó Fátharta, RIP, former Parish Priest of Parke.
This unofficial approach can be used with the English version too, but not until the battle for a proper inclusive translation has been fought and lost. I would love to say ‘fought and won,’ but once heels have been dug in, translations done and printing started, financial considerations as well as inclusive ones come into the equation. On the day I am writing this, for instance, I have had an e-mail from Veritas, the official publishing house of the Irish Heirarchy with a special offer if I get my order in early. I e-mailed back to say that I will not be interested until the translation has broad acceptance by people and their priests. That is an easy option for me, of course, as I will not be saying Mass in English anytime soon.
There used to be an old adage: “Man” always embraces “Woman” in the Bible, but that is not good enough any longer. Columban priest and campaigner on ecological issues has pointed out that the word “man” is no longer a common noun in the English langusge. I am glad to see that the fairly recently formed Association of Irish Priests has taken up the cudgels on this issue, and have met five of the Irish Bishops in Maynooth to discuss the issue. They have also called for the new translation of the Missal to be suspended until there is proper consultation with people. There is to a ‘listening process’ in many parts of the Archdiocese of Tuam, including the Gaeltacht, between now and Easter. “Let those who have ears hear.”
Week ending 15th March 2011 www.tourmakeady.com
There is a deep-seated
fear here in County
Galway that “The Mayos”
have their hearts and minds set on world domination. The election of a Mayo
Taoiseach, Mr. Enda Kenny TD has been the final straw. They could put up with
having a Mayo Archbishop or a Mayo priest, or Mayo Gardaí or football managers
from time to time. To have a Mayo Taoiseach meeting President Barak Obama in
the Washington White House on Saint Patrick’s Day is the hardest thing for the
“Mayo, God help us,” brigade to swallow. “Galway glad to get us” has been
replaced by “Ireland
glad to get us.” The biggest fear of all is that “The World glad to get us” is
the next step on our relentless surge to the top.
There is already talk of the “Mayo Third Reich,” even though I hasten to put their minds to rest that we have no intention at the moment of invading Poland. We will allow the Polish men and women who helped build much of our infrastructure during the celtic tiger years to do that themselves. We have already conquered Britain, something the Germans failed to do. Our emigrants have done that in the past. There is hardly a road, a bridge, a building or a tunnel across the water that has not seen Mayo handiword. Our young nurses are unfortunately having to follow the lead of their foremothers as are many people skilled in engineering and IT expertise. Could you imagine the Olympic stadia without Mayo input?
I would hope that our Mayo Taoiseach brings a bowl of Manulla shamrock to the White House. Manulla, which is part of the parish in which I grew up has long been maligned for refusing a drink to Saint Patrick, the punishment for which was that shamrock would never grow there. It would be a great pleasure to tell President Obama and the rest of the world “Yes it can.” Let the shamrock from The Junction be the symbol of Ireland’s fightback from the recession. We are down but not out. It has been suggested that the real reason for refusing Patrick a drink was that he had enough drank already. Water, that is. It is more likely that he had already started his forty day Lenten fast on his way to Croagh Patrick.
Having probably spent more of his time in Mayo than anywhere else – maybe our crowd were harder to convert,- I’m sure Patrick has a pep in his step in the heavenly halls at the moment. He is probably telling all and sundry that our new Taoiseach has climbed the Reek more often than himself. Being a saint he is not allowed to make any politically offensive remarks about snakes or anything else. Strangely enough I have been told that our most popular saint out here in Carna, Saint Mac Dara was a Coptic priest, and that for them the snake was a symbol not of the Garden of Eden serpent but of the snake Aaron raised up on a stick to stop a plague. The idea of Patrick driving out the snakes in that context refers to the Roman church under Patrick triumphing over the Coptic (MacDara) Either way the reputation of both and the common faith they brought has survived for more than fifteen hundred years.
There is already talk of the “Mayo Third Reich,” even though I hasten to put their minds to rest that we have no intention at the moment of invading Poland. We will allow the Polish men and women who helped build much of our infrastructure during the celtic tiger years to do that themselves. We have already conquered Britain, something the Germans failed to do. Our emigrants have done that in the past. There is hardly a road, a bridge, a building or a tunnel across the water that has not seen Mayo handiword. Our young nurses are unfortunately having to follow the lead of their foremothers as are many people skilled in engineering and IT expertise. Could you imagine the Olympic stadia without Mayo input?
I would hope that our Mayo Taoiseach brings a bowl of Manulla shamrock to the White House. Manulla, which is part of the parish in which I grew up has long been maligned for refusing a drink to Saint Patrick, the punishment for which was that shamrock would never grow there. It would be a great pleasure to tell President Obama and the rest of the world “Yes it can.” Let the shamrock from The Junction be the symbol of Ireland’s fightback from the recession. We are down but not out. It has been suggested that the real reason for refusing Patrick a drink was that he had enough drank already. Water, that is. It is more likely that he had already started his forty day Lenten fast on his way to Croagh Patrick.
Having probably spent more of his time in Mayo than anywhere else – maybe our crowd were harder to convert,- I’m sure Patrick has a pep in his step in the heavenly halls at the moment. He is probably telling all and sundry that our new Taoiseach has climbed the Reek more often than himself. Being a saint he is not allowed to make any politically offensive remarks about snakes or anything else. Strangely enough I have been told that our most popular saint out here in Carna, Saint Mac Dara was a Coptic priest, and that for them the snake was a symbol not of the Garden of Eden serpent but of the snake Aaron raised up on a stick to stop a plague. The idea of Patrick driving out the snakes in that context refers to the Roman church under Patrick triumphing over the Coptic (MacDara) Either way the reputation of both and the common faith they brought has survived for more than fifteen hundred years.
Week ending 8th March 2011 www.tourmakeady.com
I made the point three
years ago that I would be only 339 years old when Easter would again be as
early as it was that year, that is in the year 2285. St. Patrick’s Day was
actually early in Holy Week, which beat what was the earliest year in many
people’s memory, the year that the palm and the shamrock were worn on the same
day, the Sunday before Easter. This year we are at the other end of the
moveable feast spectrum, almost as late as it can possibly be, on the 24th
of April. I will be only 93 when it is a day later than that, in the year 2038.
Many Eastern European churches have long had a fixed Easter, and it just happens that their Easter and ours coincide this year. The Irish church was at the forefront of efforts to have a fixed feast many years ago, but they eventually lost out to Roman influence. I am quite pleased with the idea of having an unfixed Easter. It is good to have something that is not tied down by commercial interests. Great sporting events and occasions for instance are nailed down by TV deals, while the chocolateers who make our Easter eggs have to time their products to moveable markets.
Our Easter is tied to the date of the Jewish Passover which was being celebrated the week that Jesus was crucified. This commemorates the escape of the Jewish people across the Red Sea from captivity in Egypt. The miracle of the parting of the waters was obviously connected to a natural event, an extremely low tide, and tides are governed by the phases of the moon. For that reason the Passover and Easter are connected with lunar activity. Easter falls on the Sunday after the full moon after the Spring equinox. Now that I am back living close to the sea-shore, I appreciate more than I have done for many years the vagaries of moons and tides.
The build-up or the slim-down to Easter starts on Ash Wednesday this week. Operation Transformation may be over on RTÉ 1, but Operation Spiritual Transformation is about to start. In the language af NAMA and the Banking sector we need a spiritual haircut. It is a kind of spring cleaning of the soul that reflects the forty days that Jesus fasted in the desert, forty days mirrored by Saint Patrick on his holy mountain. It is a time to look in the mirror of our own souls, to see where are we at and where are we going in our lives. Ash Wednesday has a resonance for many people who are not particularly religious. Some old instinct tells people that it is time to get their act together, to give up the fags, to start a healthier phase of life.
Trócaire, as it has done for almost forty years now will play an important place in many people’s Lent. Giving to those who need it most in other parts of the world complements the traditional ‘giving up’ and people’s small sacrifices over the years have played an enormous part in helping others to help themselves. There are probably millions worldwide who have benefited. While Trócaire will continue to be part of Lent, it is gradually expanding its fundraising appeals. We regularly hear those on radio and TV advertisements. The leaflet which comes with this year’s Trócaire box also contains a small form by which people can make a monthly contribution through a Bank account. In this and previous recessions many people are willing to share some of what they have with the poorest of the poor.
Many Eastern European churches have long had a fixed Easter, and it just happens that their Easter and ours coincide this year. The Irish church was at the forefront of efforts to have a fixed feast many years ago, but they eventually lost out to Roman influence. I am quite pleased with the idea of having an unfixed Easter. It is good to have something that is not tied down by commercial interests. Great sporting events and occasions for instance are nailed down by TV deals, while the chocolateers who make our Easter eggs have to time their products to moveable markets.
Our Easter is tied to the date of the Jewish Passover which was being celebrated the week that Jesus was crucified. This commemorates the escape of the Jewish people across the Red Sea from captivity in Egypt. The miracle of the parting of the waters was obviously connected to a natural event, an extremely low tide, and tides are governed by the phases of the moon. For that reason the Passover and Easter are connected with lunar activity. Easter falls on the Sunday after the full moon after the Spring equinox. Now that I am back living close to the sea-shore, I appreciate more than I have done for many years the vagaries of moons and tides.
The build-up or the slim-down to Easter starts on Ash Wednesday this week. Operation Transformation may be over on RTÉ 1, but Operation Spiritual Transformation is about to start. In the language af NAMA and the Banking sector we need a spiritual haircut. It is a kind of spring cleaning of the soul that reflects the forty days that Jesus fasted in the desert, forty days mirrored by Saint Patrick on his holy mountain. It is a time to look in the mirror of our own souls, to see where are we at and where are we going in our lives. Ash Wednesday has a resonance for many people who are not particularly religious. Some old instinct tells people that it is time to get their act together, to give up the fags, to start a healthier phase of life.
Trócaire, as it has done for almost forty years now will play an important place in many people’s Lent. Giving to those who need it most in other parts of the world complements the traditional ‘giving up’ and people’s small sacrifices over the years have played an enormous part in helping others to help themselves. There are probably millions worldwide who have benefited. While Trócaire will continue to be part of Lent, it is gradually expanding its fundraising appeals. We regularly hear those on radio and TV advertisements. The leaflet which comes with this year’s Trócaire box also contains a small form by which people can make a monthly contribution through a Bank account. In this and previous recessions many people are willing to share some of what they have with the poorest of the poor.
Week ending 1st March 2011 www.tourmakeady.com
I wrote to
the Ombudsman’s office recently to seek clarification on a matter to do with
the Arts Council. I sought a judgment on whether it was discriminatory on the
part of that Council to insist that all applications for bursaries in
literature had to be made online. There seems to be a perception in many
official circles that eveyone in the country is computer literate, that
everyone has good telecommunication services, that broadband exists or is
effective in every part of the country. This is patently not true, especially
in many parts of the west.
I have no problem with the Arts Council. I have applied for and been granted bursaries on five occasions in the past twenty years. For this I am very gateful. Their help has meant that I have been able to visit places and write novels based on those experiences which I would not have been able to do otherwise. This has been a joy in my life as I think it is a good thing for clergy or for anyone else to have interests outside their day to day occupation. I hope it has helped to broaden my mind and see things from many different points of view.
My problem then is not with the Arts Council but with the creeping bureaucracy that insists that everything possible be done online. I am reasonably computer literate. This article is being written on a laptop and will be sent to the editor by e-mail. No problem unless something technical beyond my control prevents this happening. In that case I can just type the article on an oldfashioned typewriter and put it in the post. It means a little extra work for the office staff in the Connaught, but the show goes on, the article gets there and is accepted for publication. In other words there are different ways of doing things, all of which are acceptable.
All my previous applications for bursaries were sent by post or by attachments to e-mails. Even this time supporting documents such as a CV, examples of previous and ongoing work had to be sent by post. It was only the application that had to be online. Even that I could accept if room had been left for a fallback position if there were technical difficulties. The difficulty for me was that there were problems with broadband and other means of going online from Carna. Officials in the Arts Council took me by the hand in a virtual way and led me through every aspect of filling the form. The problem was that when it came to ‘submit’ nothing happened. They seemed to be genuinely sorry for me, but the rules were the rules. All applications had to be online.
The deadline was fast approaching and my mood was darkening. When prayers failed I tried curses but these did not work either. Then on the day before the deadline I pressed submit once more and off it went. I am not really expecting a bursary because of the present economic climate, but I want to at least be in the mix. I am getting to the stage that finds ageism rears its ugly head in many areas of public life. Many older people are confused and fearful by the trend in Banks, Government offices, shops, etc to have everything computerised. I can accept that trend so long as there is another way left to get the business done by those frightened by technology.
The Ombudsman’s office were polite and prompt with their reply, but they could not do anything: “Her remit extends only to those bodies which are listed in Schedule 1 of the Ombudsman’s Act, 1980. As the Arts Council is not listed in the aforementioned Schedule, it is consequently not within the remit of the Ombudsman.” It is about time that The Arts Council, The Abbey Theatre and others receiving State assistance came under that remit.
I have no problem with the Arts Council. I have applied for and been granted bursaries on five occasions in the past twenty years. For this I am very gateful. Their help has meant that I have been able to visit places and write novels based on those experiences which I would not have been able to do otherwise. This has been a joy in my life as I think it is a good thing for clergy or for anyone else to have interests outside their day to day occupation. I hope it has helped to broaden my mind and see things from many different points of view.
My problem then is not with the Arts Council but with the creeping bureaucracy that insists that everything possible be done online. I am reasonably computer literate. This article is being written on a laptop and will be sent to the editor by e-mail. No problem unless something technical beyond my control prevents this happening. In that case I can just type the article on an oldfashioned typewriter and put it in the post. It means a little extra work for the office staff in the Connaught, but the show goes on, the article gets there and is accepted for publication. In other words there are different ways of doing things, all of which are acceptable.
All my previous applications for bursaries were sent by post or by attachments to e-mails. Even this time supporting documents such as a CV, examples of previous and ongoing work had to be sent by post. It was only the application that had to be online. Even that I could accept if room had been left for a fallback position if there were technical difficulties. The difficulty for me was that there were problems with broadband and other means of going online from Carna. Officials in the Arts Council took me by the hand in a virtual way and led me through every aspect of filling the form. The problem was that when it came to ‘submit’ nothing happened. They seemed to be genuinely sorry for me, but the rules were the rules. All applications had to be online.
The deadline was fast approaching and my mood was darkening. When prayers failed I tried curses but these did not work either. Then on the day before the deadline I pressed submit once more and off it went. I am not really expecting a bursary because of the present economic climate, but I want to at least be in the mix. I am getting to the stage that finds ageism rears its ugly head in many areas of public life. Many older people are confused and fearful by the trend in Banks, Government offices, shops, etc to have everything computerised. I can accept that trend so long as there is another way left to get the business done by those frightened by technology.
The Ombudsman’s office were polite and prompt with their reply, but they could not do anything: “Her remit extends only to those bodies which are listed in Schedule 1 of the Ombudsman’s Act, 1980. As the Arts Council is not listed in the aforementioned Schedule, it is consequently not within the remit of the Ombudsman.” It is about time that The Arts Council, The Abbey Theatre and others receiving State assistance came under that remit.
