At the eleventh hour

At the eleventh hour

During the week there has been a lot of talk about today being the 100th Anniversary of Armistice Day, that brought to an end the First World War. It was called, The Great War since there was no expectation there’d be a Second World War, not to mention all the wars, battles and conflicts that have taken place up to an including our own day.

On November 11th at 11am the guns fell silent and it is that silencing of the guns we recall and give gratitude for today.  There’s a remembrance being put before us of all who lost their lives during this war and, in particular from an Irish point of view, the estimated 35,000 Irishmen, who did not return home from the war.

Grave of Fr Felix Burke, Kilmovee, Co. Mayo.

Last August I celebrated Mass in Kilmovee with the Burke Family and their friends.  They had requested this mass in memory of their uncle, Fr Felix Burke and his sister, a nurse, who had both taken part in the First World War, Fr Felix as a volunteer chaplain from the Diocese of Achonry.  Later he was appointed Parish Priest here and died in January 1951 and is buried in the Church Grounds.

One of his nephews spoke at the end of the Mass about his own memories of his uncle and some of the rare occasions he shared stories with them from the war.  One story, recalled and shared with us in August, was of Fr Felix hearing confessions on the battlefield (The Somme) and of his encounter with a young soldier.  When they finished the celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the soldier asked Fr Felix where he was from.  Felix said he came from Collooney in County Sligo and the soldier told him he was from Dromard – a few miles from Collooney.  It very much brought home to me, the reality of our people being involved in the war – some to see home again and, sadly, many who did not.

I spoke of this at the weekend Masses in Kilmovee parish and also of the fact that somebody had shared a photo with me during the week.  It was of a Remembrance Monument in Castlebar that lists all those from County Mayo who were killed in the war.  The piece in the photograph contained the names of people from Kilmovee.  I searched on line and found other names from Kilkelly.  Specific townlands in the parish were not to be found so I imagine there was just a general address for the soldiers.  I am sure too, that there are other names not found, or possibly no longer in living memory but I thought it right to list the names we had.  People stood, remembered them and said “Rest In Peace” after each name was read.

“Countless white crosses in mute witness stand to man’s blind indifference to his fellow man …..”

  • Private Edward Boyle, Kilkelly
  • Private Patrick Cuddy, Kilkelly
  • Private James Doherty, Kilmovee
  • Guardsman Patrick Duffy, Kilmovee
  • Private Richard Forkin, Kilmovee
  • Private John Harrington, Kilkelly
  • Private Edward Higgins, Kilmovee
  • Private Martin Higgins, Kilmovee
  • Sergeant Dominick Jordan, Kilmovee
  • Rifleman James Judge, Kilmovee
  • Private Thomas Kearns, Kilkelly
  • Private Patrick Kelly, Kilmovee
  • Private James Kenneally, Kilkelly
  • Private John Mannion, Kilmovee
  • Private Matthew Mullen, Kilmovee
  • Private J Mulligan, Kilmovee
  • Private Michael Walsh, Kilmovee

I sang a song today at Mass that I used at the Family Mass in August.  It’s a well known song, recalling a man sitting beside the grave of a young soldier.  I read recently that Eric Bogle,  the composer of the song, was anxious that an Irish name be attached to the solider as there was much Anti-Irish sentiment in England at the time he wrote the song.  He wanted it put on record that many Irish men gave their lives in England’s name and that this reality should not be overlooked. The song is called “The Green Fields of France” and there is no finer version than that sung by The Fureys and Davey Arthur.  That said, I sung it today and just did a recording now of my “version” so hope you don’t mind me including it!

THE GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE

THE LAST POST

In the chorus of the song there is mention of The Last Post so maybe we could listen to its sombre tones now and include a prayer for all who have died and continue to die through war, conflict and violence.  “Lord, deliver us from all evil and grant us peace in our day”.

Graced

Graced

During the week my nephew and his wife welcomed their first child into the world!  For months, like all parents, they had looked forward to this moment and it arrived in the early hours of September 12th.  My brother sent me a text just after 3am and though I enjoy my sleep, I was happy to be awoken by the little beeping notification sound.

I was in Gurteen yesterday for a  Wedding Ceremony and afterwards went to Cloonloo Church and Templeronan Cemetery for a quick visit.  I got word that my nephew, his wife and their daughter were on their way home from the hospital so I waited for them to arrive.

It was a quiet homecoming, though my sister-in-law had brought some balloons and decorations to the house to mark the occasion and welcome the little one to her new home.

“Would you like to hold her?” I was asked and the answer was yes.  I held her for a little while and hoped that, in time, she’d come to know me as someone who will love her and care for her as best I can.  She won’t, thank God, be short of love.

As I was leaving, I looked at her in the little buggy and looked at her hands as they rested on the blanket.  So small but so, so perfect.  I took her hand in mine and then decided to take a photo.

Tabhair dom do lámh (Give me your hand)

I liked the photo when I saw it and felt it had a corner here.  Maybe someday she might see it and know that I took her hand in mine the day she came home and, in the taking, commit with all my family to minding her and leading her, as best we can, along the road and future that awaits her.

Earlier I had placed my hand on the top of a young couple’s joined hands during the Wedding Mass in Gurteen.  Their joined hands and the future they hoped for were blessed too.

There’s something about openness to give and take the hand and something about blessing.

God Bless you Grace!
Must be holidays!

Must be holidays!

I was at the cinema twice this week.  Mentioned the first visit in an earlier post when, in Virginia, I went to see “Won’t you be my neigbour” – the story of Mr Rogers.  Last night I went alone to the local cinema here to see the new Mama Mia movie “Mama Mia Here We Go Again”.  It was enjoyable.  Not sure if I liked it as much as the first one but it was fun, good music and dancing.  Certainly didn’t feel I’d wasted my time being there.  One or two of the songs featured, I’d never heard before but I am assuming they are all ABBA songs.  Some of the ones I did know were sung at a different tempo and I liked them too.

I had two Masses here today (and one last night) and it’s amazing to see how many people attend Masses here.  There are a lot of Masses in the parish (Three, including a Spanish Mass on Saturday evening and, on Sunday, 7am, 8am, 9.30am, 11.00am, 12.30pm and 5.00pm) and the Cathedral is very full for many of them and well full for them all.  Something uplifting about that.

St Agnes’ Cathedral, Rockville Centre

Some people with Kilmovee (Urlaur) connections came to the 5pm Mass this evening and went for a bite to eat with them after Mass.  It was good to catch up.  The daughter/grand-daughter chose her own clothes when dressing today so arrived in the Roscommon jersey.  She looked well and was such a pleasant child. I didn’t update her on Roscommon’s recent outings in the Super 8s!  She generated much amusement in the restaurant as she walked around freely from table to table and, in the process, encountered a man from Leitrim and a barman from Dublin.  There’s something lovely about the County Jersey.

C’mon the Rossies

Had a slightly worrying moment as I tried to finish the chicken wrap I ordered and found myself unable to do so.  I asked the waitress to “pack it” and I brought it home.  That’s a first for me.  Thinking it might be time to go home before I go American!!

Wind in The Willows

Wind in The Willows

Last Sunday I used the song “Wind in the Willows” at Mass.  Those from home know that it’s a regular of mine.  Somehow over the years I seem to have added my own words to it.  Not sure how that happened but certainly the words I use are not all found in Alan Bell’s original words.  I hope he doesn’t mind that.  I read recently where he wrote the song about a man on his way to an English festival and meeting three strangers on the road.  It’s about encounter I suppose and what can come of it.

In any case a number of people asked me since Sunday for the words and I thought maybe I could include them here and then I decided to sing it.  Not the best video ever and certainly not the best singing but I really do like this song and am glad it struck a chord (pun intended!!) with some people.

LYRICS

As I went a-walking one morning in spring
I met with some travellers on an old country lane;
one was an old man, the second a maid
and the third was a young child who smiled as he said:

With the wind in the willows
and the birds in the skies
there’s a bright sun to warm us
wherever we lie
We have bread and fishes
and a jug of red wine
to share on our journey
with all of mankind

Well then I asked them
their name and their race
that I might return
their kindness and grace.
He said, “My name is Joseph
this is Mary my wife
and this is our young son
who is our delight.

I sat down beside them
with flowers all around
and we ate from a mantle
spread out on the ground
they told me of prophets
and princes and kings
and all of the One God
who knows everything.

We’ve come to your land
We travel your lanes
To learn of your people
And learn of their pains
We’ve travelled the whole world
Oe’r land and through seas
to bring to all peoples
the news that they’re free

Sadly, I left them on that
on that old country lane
but I knew in my heart
I would meet them again.
The old man was Joseph
and Mary his wife
and the young child was Jesus;
the Lord of my life.

With the wind in the willows
and the birds in the skies
there’s a bright sun to warm us
wherever we lie
We have bread and fishes
and a jug of red wine
to share on our journey
with all of mankind

Lighting the next candle

Lighting the next candle

The Advent Wreath, week by week, sees the lighting of another candle.  The intention being to complete the circle in time for Christmas and to light the central candle – the white one – representing Christ.  For this lighting to take place, the other candles need to have their moment too.  It would make no sense to light just one candle and leave it at that.  The journey through Advent is represented in the weekly lighting.  So too, it seems to me, the story of our Faith Journey.  Lights along the way – each one receiving the touch of the flame of faith, so that it can take its place in the telling of the Sacred Story.

“Let your light shine”

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