This is the Sanctuary in St Joseph’s Church, Urlaur (Parish of Kilmovee). St Joseph’s is the newest church in Achonry Diocese – blessed and opened, by Bishop James Fergus, in 1969. There’s a great story to go with this church so might share a bit of it here …
In the early 1960’s there was no church in Urlaur. There had been an Abbey that ceased being used in the late 1800’s. People from Urlaur went to Mass in nearby Kilmovee, Glann, Kilkelly and some (I’m told) even went to the neighbouring parish of Tooreen!! There was a priest in the parish at the time who didn’t altogether like the idea of people leaving the parish for Mass so he started to celebrate Mass in the local primary school. He also, in fairness, was deeply aware of the role of the Abbey in Urlaur and felt the Faith of the people would be enriched through the presence of a church in the locality. This idea caught on and, from it, people looked at the possibility of building a new church for the Urlaur area of our parish. This was a massive undertaking since the population was relatively small but the project commenced.
Locals got behind it with full enthusiasm and many fundraising ideas were put to work. These included door to door collections locally and in neigbouring towns. People worked very hard to make the dream of a church come through.
Move the story about three thousand miles. Many years earlier a young fifteen year old girl left Urlaur and went to the United States. Later she entered an order of enclosed Sisters in New Jersey. She received word from home that a new church was going to be built. She was happy about this and decided to share the news with, wait for it the “New York Times”. Her letter wound its way to the desk of Nat Goldstein. As the name suggests he was not a native of East Mayo!! He was a Jew but was nonetheless impressed by the letter received and asked two journalists to go and visit the sister.
They reported back to him the outcome of their visit and said it was quite an experience. They spoke through a little meshed opening to Sister Mary of The Blessed Trinity (formerly Margaret Cafferkey from Aughadeffin) who shared with them her lifelong dream that there be a church in which her neighbours and family could pray. Towards the end of the interview, Sister Mary told the reporters she had been quite nervous about meeting them since she had been fifty-five years in the convent and they were her first visitors in fifty years!!
Goldstein impressed by the report and still conscious of Margaret’s letter and, in particular, one line which said her people wanted to build a “place of worship” took up the cause. Shortly afterwards, at a function marking his forty years service to the New York Times, he was prsented with $1000 and sent half of it to Sr Mary for the work on St Joseph’s.
He didn’t stop at that. He wrote to friends and presumably used the New York Times asking people to send him $5.00 to “help make and Irish Fairytale come true”! As a result more than $10,000.00 was collected (this was about £6000 of the £16,000.00 it took to build the church). All from one letter from a sister in an enclosed order. (Ironically some feel that enclosed orders don’t influence life beyond their walls ……. )
Goldstein later said that he liked the line about the “place of worship” and felt the world would be a better place if it had more “places of worship”. He said her letter was “full of faith and deserved more than a little notice”. He together with his wife attended the opening of Urlaur Church on Ascension Thursday, May 15th 1969. So also, the Commissioner of the New York Police Department (Howard Leary), his wife and two other visitors from New York – Irving Taubkin of the New York Times and his wife). The “place of worship” in a small part of East Mayo captured the imaginations of many.
Today that church is open. Its invitation to worship is as real and intense as it was on that Ascension Day in 1969. Its call is as sure. Chances are there’s a church open near enough to wherever you are right now … a quick visit might be no bad thing ….
Earlier today, I visited St Mel’s Cathedral in Longford. Like many, I had seen images and the fine documentary presented by RTE’s Ciaran Mullooly but the reality of the place outshone all images and imagination! A true credit to all involved. I had the added bonus of meeting Bishop Colm O’Reilly and Bishop Ray Browne as I was heading into the cathedral. Bishop Colm came in with me and shared a few thoughts around the work done. I was happy to be able to congratulate him, since I know the Cathedral and Longford hold a special place in his heart and ministry. I also met Fr Tom Healy, Adm in the Cathedral and congratulated him on a job well done. The right man for the hour.
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I took a few photos to add to the countless images already on line but these are mine! They speak to me of a visit to a very special space and place. I’m glad this work has been done and full credit to all involved.
I was struck by the Stations of The Cross and, in particular, by the places still to be filled by some of the Stations. There’s room for thought there – where am I, where are you to be found in these Stations? The one below, for example, the Ninth Station – Jesus falls for the third time – where are we in that fall? Where are we in our own falls?
Spent a few days around London this week. It’s always a nice chance to meet a few people. I used the train more the past week than I have done in a long time. There’s no doubt it’s a great service. I was struck again by that phrase “mind the gap” that is announced with such frequency and urgency as the train approaches the platform. A reminder to all that there’s need for care as the step is taken from the train to the platform.
That image of “gap” remains with me and I realise again its potential to cause danger in friendships, relationships, family life and faith. If we don’t address the “gap” there’s a real risk that much of what is important in life falls between “the track and the platform” – the journey we’re on and where we stand. The gap, like track and platform, needs to be acknowledged.
During the week, I had the chance to bridge one gap! The year before I was ordained a priest, I spent a few weeks in the summer of 1986 in a parish in North London. It was called St Gabriel’s on the Holloway Road. I returned a few times after I was ordained for a quick visit but the priests I knew there moved to St Mellitus in Tollington Park and later, back home to Ireland, so my link with both these places ceased and “the gap” took its toll!
I visited some friends in Wapping on one of the days and planned on meeting two cousins later in the evening so in between I decided to bridge the gap:)
The Northern Line took me to Archway Tube Station and when I reached the street it all looked so different. I had to ask someone for the Holloway Road which was just around the corner. There used to be an old dance hall on the Holloway Road. It was called “The Gresham” and, I’ve no doubt, many’s a match was made there. It was directly opposite the church but not anymore. It wasn’t in use for many years but seems to have been totally replaced now. I’m not sure what stands where it stood but St Gabriel’s is there and I was happy to find it open and welcoming.
I really can’t say whether it has changed or not but I remember preaching there the first Saturday evening I went as a deacon. It was such an experience to look into this modern church, with the people in a sort of semi-circle before you and have the chance to speak to a congregation. At the time, it was a parish in the care of the Irish Chaplaincy and was a very “Irish parish” in many ways. I met many young people there and it was lovely to think they saw the parish as a place to meet others, share a bit of faith and go on their way. The priests there at the time were good men and worked hard to keep a link with the existing parish and the many Irish people who saw it as part of their landscape for a while.
My mother, God rest her, was coming out of Tubbercurry on the Monday or Tuesday after I went to St Gabriel’s and gave a lift to two young people who were thumbing. They told her they were going to Boyle and when she said she was going to Gurteen, they told her they’d met a priest from Gurteen at Mass the previous Saturday evening. Then they said “he wasn’t a priest he was a deacon”!! Needless to say my “proud” mother left them to Boyle:) A small but connected world.
There was a lady saying a few prayers in the church and as we left I spoke with her. I told her I’d been in St Gabriel’s for a while in the summer of 1986, when I was a deacon. She then asked the reassuring question “are you still a priest?” It’s a sign of the times I suppose when it can’t be assumed a person is still a priest! An understandable sign of course. I told her I am and she said she likes St Gabriel’s though it’s not her parish. We chatted for a little while and then she left. I wandered around for a while and tried to connect with that summer. I’m not sure it was a totally successful connection but I was glad to be there.
I looked at the Parish Bulletin and noticed the parish is now in the care of the Holy Ghost Order. The three priests attached to the parish are African – two of them born the same year as myself and the third a few years younger. Their photos are in the porch and they look like happy and good men. I’ve no doubt the parish is in good hands. The names of people involved in the various ministries told a story of a parish that has changed. I think I spotted one name that would have a loose connection with Ireland. All the others were African or Oriental. That’s not new. It was one of the lovely aspects of St Gabriel’s and a welcome eye-opener to me that there was such a variety of people and cultures there. That said, I thought the shift had changed and a new team of workers had taken to its task. The Irish Chaplaincy team had its opportunity to put a shape on a place and now these three men and their many helpers add another dimension. I wondered how many remembered the Irish priests that were there in the 80’s?
I was very pleased to be there again and many happy memories came back to me. I won’t leave it as long next time but for now, I’ve “minded the gap”.
There was a fine crowd at Mass today in Kilmovee. Given the weather conditions and state of the roads, I had expected a small attendance. Fair play to people for making the effort to mark the “Sunday in every week”.
I hadn’t planned on speaking at all but plans don’t always …. go to plan:)
In recent weeks, I’ve been at a few meetings in the diocese where we spoke about vocations to the priesthood. One of the questions posed was when was the last ordination in our parishes. I’ve thought about that a bit. The last ordination in my home parish of Gurteen was in 1988. The last in the neighbouring parish of Ballymote, 1985 and in Ballaghaderreen, 1992. In the past twelve years we’ve had two ordinations in the diocese. In Kilmovee, where I now minister, the last ordination was in 1981.
Interestingly in Ballaghaderreen, it is on record that in almost 100 years of the Brothers’ School, 100 priests were ordained. I can think now of six men from Kilmovee Parish who are currently ministering as priests but, as mentioned, the last of them was ordained 34 years ago.
A woman in the parish told me she could recall eleven people from her village that were in Religious Life when she was a younger woman. How many villages could say that today?
Anyway, I found myself talking about this today at Mass. The readings of the day pointed towards the need to say a few words. The first reading and Gospel, in particular, spoke of calls received and shared. The boy Samuel, heard a call in the night and assumed it was Eli calling him. Twice he went to him but Eli assured Samuel that he had not called him. The third time this happened, the penny dropped for Eli, and he told the boy to go back and lie down. If the voice comes again, he told him, “say speak Lord, your servant is listening”. So it happened. Eli’s role in this call is central. Had he not a clear notion of God himself, he could scarcely have pointed Samuel towards the opening of the ear, mind and heart to God’s call.
Equally, in the Gospel passage, the Messiah is found through the question “Where do you live?” The response, “come and see” allowed space and time for the questioners to come to know the Lord and hear his call. Having heard it, they went about sharing it with others, among them Simon, instantly recognised by Jesus as “the rock” – the solid one on whom the church would be built. The call to Simon came from God but its origins were in the voice of known friends who wanted to share, with him, the call they’d encountered whilst spending time with the Lord – coming and seeing.
We all then have a role to play in vocations and in extending the range of the call to others. The call may not be to us but THROUGH us. What can we do to share this call with other people?
I mentioned today that I am almost fifty-two years old. It’s small consolation that I am still regarded as one of the younger priests in the diocese. When I was ordained, a man in his fifties seemed so old to me! I wondered did I look old to the children in the parish. I decided on an instant survey:) Turning to Seán who was serving Mass with his sister, I asked “Do I look young or old to you Seán?” He didn’t avoid the question or hesitate with his answer – “Old”, he said. Seán deserves to see a younger face before him. I’m happy to be here with Seán and hope that he, and others, can be happy about that too. The fact remains, nonetheless, that Seán needs a younger priest to journey with him. There’s over forty years of an age gap between he and I. That’s too much.
Do we need younger priests? I believe we do. There’s a feeling now that if a young man expresses an interest in priesthood, maybe in his Leaving Cert year, that he’d be advised to go out, experience life, get a degree or a trade and, if he still feels this way in a few years, come back and explore the possibility. I can see where this thinking comes from and has value but I have to question it. At this same stage in life, schools are asking students to focus their exam subjects around what they want to do in life. CAO forms are completed where students select, in order of preference, their chosen college and, by implication, chosen career. If a young boy or girl, aged 17 or 18, expressed an interest in medicine, pharmacy, the Gardaí, nursing, teaching, farming – nobody would say, go away for a few years and think about it. If it’s still what you want, then go for it. Why should priesthood or religious life be different?
Yes, it’s true of course, that these other professions don’t have attached a call to remain single for life. Needless to say, that is a serious consequence but maybe one that a person can grow into, explore and, if too much to deal with, re-assess over the years of training. It’s almost certain that most people beginning training in any other walk of life are doing so as single people. It’s during the years of study and discernment, they make decisions around relationships.
There has to be a place in our church for young people, like Samuel, hearing God’s call and there has to be a place too, for Eli (you and me) to help people hear that call.
It’s easy enough to be confused around today’s Feast of The Lord’s Baptism. Scarcely two weeks ago, we beheld an infant in a borrowed stable and now we celebrate the baptism of a man aged thirty.
The timing may well give rise to confusion but the intent is to focus our minds on the reality that the child did not remain a child. Boyhood gave way to adulthood because work had to be done.
Maybe there’s something being said to us about the need to allow the Faith grow with us too. There may well be in, all of us, a tendency to live faith in a childlike way that doesn’t take into account the natural call to grow in maturity and awareness. The subjects we covered in National School serve as a solid foundation for the more focused studies of Secondary School and University. That foundation is essential but the purpose of any foundation is to build on its solid structure.
Likewise the child in faith must become an adult. Jesus, born in Bethlehem, had to meet the waters of the Jordan so that his public ministry could commence.
Where are we along this road of faith? How can we declare ourselves ready for the sharing of the Good News? What have we done to build, brick by brick, a solid faith?
I called to visit a family in the parish last night and, when leaving their home, I spotted the moon and “clicked”. I was reminded of Imelda May’s song “Meet you at the moon”. She said she wrote it for her mother. It was her way of connecting with her mother when they are miles apart. The moon they see, no matter where they stand, is the same moon and the suggestion is to meet there. A lovely sentiment.
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same star
When you’re deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
We’re starin’ at the same sky
Strange as it seems
We’re sittin’ on the same earth
Though there’s oceans between
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Mmm, I’m part of you
And your part of me
But it’s a cold old world
When your missin’ somebody
Without you I wouldn’t couldn’t be
So when your heart is achin’
And it can’t take much more breaking
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same start
When your deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Writer(s): Imelda May, Imelda Mary Higham
Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing (Uk) Limited, Chrysalis Music Ltd.
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