by Vincent | Apr 22, 2018 | Reflections, homily
Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. We reflect on Vocation within the church. Vocation at its widest, includes every man, woman and child of us, who tries daily to respond to God’s Call to be a better person and a sign of His presence. We focus too on vocations to priesthood, permanent diaconate and religious life. It is from here, these few lines come. I wondered yesterday what I had to say that might not have been said before and realised that I’ve nothing new to bring to the people, other than a belief that priesthood is still a call worth hearing, considering and responding to. Deeply aware of my own limitations but also still happy that I made the decision to travel this road, I wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. The idea of writing a letter came to my mind – a letter to the people but then, I thought maybe a letter to myself might be worth looking at ….. this is how it worked out!
Dear Vincent,
Thought I’d drop you a line. It’s Vocations Sunday and I know you’re wondering how to rise to it again, to encourage and pray for vocations when, for more than thirty years, you’ve done the same and nobody seems to have responded. I know that at times, you find yourself going through phases of self-doubt about the effectiveness of your own vocation. I’m sure you’re wondering who I am!
I’m that boy in you who knew priests to be decent people who seemed to bring happiness to your family home and who showed themselves to be friends. I’m that teenager in you who, in St Nathy’s College, came to admire the priests on the staff – for the bits and pieces they did “beyond the call of duty” to encourage students to do their best, not just in the classroom but on the sports field too. I’m the son in you who heard your mother’s prayers to Fr Casey a priest who died back in 1939, when your mother was scarcely a teenager herself, but remembered forever his kindness to her family, after her father’s death when she was just seven years old. I’m the Spirit in you that made you think there was a place for you in priesthood and encouraged you to go ahead – to give it a try.
I am the family and neighbours around you who wished you well that September and who cared more about where you were going than your leaving cert results. I am a grandmother of a school friend who lit candles for you every time she passed the church throughout your years in Maynooth. I am the friends you met – men and women – who made you feel special and loved. I am the dream within you that accompanied you through the years and assured you that the road chosen, like the one to Emmaus, was an open road but a safe one too where you’d not walk alone.
I am the twenty-four year old in you who knelt before Bishop Flynn in June 1987, put your hands in his and promised to do your best and who lay mouth-under, on the floor of Gurteen Church, as the saints were called down on top of you in a litany of prayer – “Bless this chosen man”, “Bless this chosen man, make him holy”. “Bless this chosen man, make him holy and consecrate him for his sacred duties” …. I am that young priest who was welcomed to his first parish by decent people who helped him believe he’d done the right thing with his life, though he had much to learn.
I am the fifty-five year old in you. Standing this weekend in a parish, surrounded by a community at prayer. People looking to the priest in you to offer a word, to be a friend and above all to break open the Scriptures and to nourish through Eucharist. I am the priest in you who wants you to push yourself and to have courage and self-conviction. I am the ongoing dreamer in you who believes the Church can find her voice a-fresh and that the world can be a better place and will be a better place when it opens itself to see again the presence of God and the real difference a lived faith can make.
I am your vocation Vincent, encouraging you to take all that’s good from your past, to accept your mistakes and to reach out again and again, to hope and believe again and again, that the story, the dream of the boy may find words in the mouth of the man and say, even if you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said it …. “this is a good life”.
They’re listening Vincent, speak to them!
by Vincent | Aug 3, 2016 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion, homily
The last few days the place I remember and call Maynooth has become a hashtag #maynooth or #maynoothscandal. Someone just asked me how I feel about this. The answer is sad, very sad – because the truth is my abiding memories of Maynooth centre around happy days when I looked forward to becoming a priest, of good friends, enthusiasm around church, dreams for the future and a belief that I was in the right place and doing the right thing with my life.
When I started in Maynooth there were seventy-five in my class, most of them my own age with a few, some years older, having worked in other places before making the decision to explore God’s Call. I’d imagine there were 300-400 students in the college at the time, people from all over Ireland. I believed we were there because it’s where we felt we were meant to be. At that time, as far as I recall, there were seminaries in Thurles, Carlow, Waterford, Kilkenny, Wexford as well as All Hallows in Dublin and Clonliffe College which was the seminary specific to students for the Archdiocese of Dublin. There was too, the Irish College in Rome. With the exception of Maynooth and the Irish College in Rome, all are now closed. I’ve no doubt many of the buildings are still there, perhaps other roles were found for them but I’m certain that memories specific to each place remain for those who walked their corridors, sat in their lecture halls and sought to find and deepen the faith “within” in their chapels.
Through the years I have visited Maynooth. In the earlier years of being a priest I’d have visited the students as we had people from the diocese studying there. As time passed, I found that happening less and less. I have however attended meetings there to do with bits of work I do here in the diocese, so I haven’t lost contact with the place entirely. I know there are people that left Maynooth who never re-visited but I think it more the case that most past pupils of the college, whether they were ordained or not, would allow it hold a special place in the heart and feel comfortable enough to wander around its corridors and grounds. The Classpiece pictures (lines of them) along the corridors, remind us of faces from the past, some known to us and many not, and give witness to the reality of vocation and response. I often think about those pictures, my own included, and have come to the conviction that we remain the “man” in that photo. By that I mean, whatever has happened in life, successes and failures, good days and bad, we are still the one who sat in front of a camera and allowed the shutter to close on the face of one preparing for ordination. Whatever hopes and dreams we had at that moment, whatever goodness was in us at that moment, whatever belief in priesthood was in us at that moment, remains the truth of that moment. It is a truth we have to re-visit and, at times, reclaim.
What do I remember of the journey in Maynooth? I remember struggles with prayer and with study, I remember confusion around feelings and somewhere too, of course, wondering about celibacy. I knew that priesthood meant I would not have a wife but at eighteen years of age a wife wasn’t the first thing on my mind!! Even at twenty-four, I’m sure I might not have given too much thought to that. There were nonetheless those “stirrings” in us that seemed at odds with being “holy”, “men apart” and yes, they gave rise to questions and quite likely doubts. I recall someone telling us once during a talk, a retreat maybe, that our feelings around sexuality were normal. As men (women too I’m sure) it was natural to wonder about this side of life and to have to make choices. He said “your hormones don’t even know you’re Catholics, never mind celibates”. I’m sure we laughed but he was making a good point. Hormones are hormones and feelings are feelings, irrespective of creed or calling. It’s what we do with and about them that ultimately shapes us. Somewhere and somehow in vocation and priesthood, with the Grace and help of God, the support and understanding of people and inner will, we have to try to align the hormones with the calling, and bring them to a place where they know “we are catholic and striving to be celibate”.
I don’t recall a “gay culture” in Maynooth when I was there. Neither do I recall “a heterosexual culture”. I felt as people we were rounded, balanced and doing the best we could. I think what I recall was a sincere effort to respond to the call to be a priest. People left along the way. It was the rule of thumb that about half the first year class would leave before ordination and, give or take that was the story with our class too. Why would people leave? Some, I am sure because they came to the realisation that priesthood was not their calling. This may or may not have had to do with celibacy. Others quite likely came to the point where they knew they could not live life without sharing it specifically with another. The idea of parenthood, handing on life through a loving relationship held more value for them and understandably so. It’s certain some might have realised their orientation was homosexual and that seeking and responding to the love of another was something they could not live without. There were, in fairness, many reasons to leave and many too, to stay. It would also have been the case that people might have been asked to leave for various reasons. That surely had to be the role of the Seminary formation team, that it journeyed with the students and observed the lifestyle and the choices being made and if these were considered incompatible with priesthood, then the recommendation would have been made that another life choice might be more in keeping. I suspect similar would happen in any field of training, from the Teacher Training College to nursing, medicine, military, Gardaí and so forth.
The time in Seminary is a time of discernment. What does that mean? It’s something to do with looking at life, seeing where the road is leading and arriving at a decision that the road ahead looks as if it’s leading to the destination you seek. Equally it might lead us to a moment where we need to stop, gather our thoughts, and admit this is not the road for me. It’s a good road and an important road but if I continue on it I will arrive at a destination, yes, but not the one I need. What I am searching for, where I am being led, is not to be found on this road. It’s no harm I’ve travelled this road and chances are I will remember much from the journey but it’s time to look to another path. That’s discernment. It’s about reflection and choice.
So what about the Maynooth of these days? As I said, I’ve lost contact a bit with students. We don’t have any student for our diocese at this time. My interaction then with present day Maynooth in terms of students and indeed staff is practically non-existent. I was involved a number of years ago in giving a retreat to the students and I wondered what that would be like. I recall meeting a small number of them in advance of the retreat to have a chat about it and when I asked what I should do, one of the students said “Don’t apologise for being here”. I am sure we laughed at that too but his point was also valid. What he was saying to me was don’t come in thinking you are not worthy to be here or that you haven’t something to say. Come to us as you are. I very much appreciated that comment and have tried to apply it to other situations in life since then. I went to Maynooth for that retreat expecting to find people at a low ebb (it was at the height of other scandals in our church), where morale would be low and people at a loss. That was not my experience. I met lovely people there. Many of them spoke with me on a one to one basis during times of reconciliation or between talks. I was amazed by their enthusiasm. The hundreds had shrunk to numbers less than a hundred but I found again a sense of purpose among these men. They seemed at ease with themselves and I came away thinking they never knew the Maynooth of hundreds or seminaries scattered across Ireland. This is the only seminary life they’ve experienced and they are making their own of it. I’d like to think I gave something to the students over those few days but I know for certain they gave a lot to me, not least hope.
It is the choice of a bishop to send seminarians to any college he feels would be good to and for them. The Irish College in Rome is an equal partner in the seminary formation of the Irish Church. Indeed when we were in Maynooth, Bishop Flynn (R.I.P.) let it be known that should any of us like to go to Rome to study we were welcome to do so. Furthermore he encouraged this and some of my fellow students chose or maybe were asked to attend the Irish College. There was nothing out of the ordinary about this decision. I’m sure from a practical point of view, the bishops were trying to support both colleges through sending students there. For that reason, I would not like to see Rome and Maynooth being pitched against each other now. It’s my belief they both seek to assist those who feel God’s call to priesthood and it’s for the good of both that a student body is maintained in each. Furthermore, it is my belief that any diocese lucky enough to have a number of students could well benefit from sending some of those students to each or, as was the case in the past, encouraging that they spend time between both.
I am very sorry for anyone who has been hurt in Maynooth. I truly am and I feel much of what is happening these days is sincerely born of personal hurt and a belief that the seminary could and should be better. It is my hope that this hurt will be healed. Whatever needs to be said or done should not be left unsaid or undone. I believe there are very sincere people, staff and students, clerical and lay, men and women still walking the corridors of St Patrick’s College.
Though there is sincerity in the recent comments about Maynooth, I don’t like some of the approaches taken as the story unfolds. It seems certain that some linked with this story have made questionable decisions around social media. At least the allegations made suggest as much. What lies behind those alleged decisions and possible needs of those involved is the journey of discernment. It has to be personal though and to seek to embarrass people through innuendo and invasion seems at odds with a Christian approach to seeking a lasting peace for all involved. My hope is that Maynooth will be to and for all involved a certain companion who will walk the road, listen and offer guidance. Equally may it listen to the voice of students and those believing there is room for change.
At day’s end, I believe Maynooth will continue to shape and be shaped by those who call it “home” during their time there. I would be deeply saddened were it to remain a hashtag when it has offered, offers and has the potential to offer much, much more.
by Vincent | Apr 16, 2016 | General Interest, Reflections
In June 1981, Fr Stephen O’Mahony was ordained a priest for the diocese of Achonry. Five years earlier, his brother Dan, was also ordained. A year before that, in the Summer of 1975, Padraig Costello was ordained for our diocese and five years before that, Dominic Towey was ordained for the Diocese of Motherwell. Four men from the parish ordained priests in eleven years.
Thirty five years have passed since Stephen’s Ordination. Is “times have changed” the only response we have? Did God decide he needed no more priests from our parish? Did we? The answer, I believe, is found in neither question. The truth is God needs priests. Our parishes and diocese needs priests and religious.
What was different back then? Did people talk more about vocations? Pray more? Think more? Respond more? The same goodness is there today as at any time in our past. The same generosity is there too.
Thirty five years is a life time ….. Is there anyone out there willing to be “out there” in ministry?
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The lines above are on the front of this week’s Kilmovee Parish Bulletin. Wanted to share them here too and maybe stir a thought in our hearts around Vocations to the Priesthood and Religious Life.
Recently a mother in the parish told me she saw her son walking down the hallway in their home. I’d say he’s about five or six years old. He had good clothes on him and when she asked what he was doing, he turned to her and said “Shh, I’m going to Mass”!! Intrigued, she followed a few minutes later and found him in another room, alongside his sister and they were “playing Mass”. She said he was making his own of one of the hymns I sing at Mass:) I was pleased to hear this because in some way it meant the children had taken the Mass home with them. To think it formed part of their play time was, in its own way, very consoling. It’s good to imagine that it has a place in their imagination, alongside Cowboys and Indians, Doctors and Nurses, Cops and Robbers, Hide and Seek and a myriad of other games. Perhaps the memory of that “mass” will linger and sow a seed, whose crop we might treasure.
I remember playing “priest” as a child. Indeed my brother felt the need to share this with those gathered for my ordination. He said that when he and my other brother would go home from school, they’d change into overalls and help in the garage but that more often than not I’d be seen in a black jacket with a shirt turned back to front!! I blushed at the memory but there’s a truth in it. Priests were an important part of my life and, maybe in the game, the thoughts of becoming one found some growth. Maybe that’s why the mother’s story sparked something of gratitude in me.
When I was ordained in 1987, another man from home was ordained a few months before me. He had been a solicitor, married and widowed – a grandfather and a Maynooth Classmate called Gerry Horan. Oliver McDonagh, a neighbour too, was ordained the Sunday before me for the diocese of Elphin (sadly Gerry and Oliver have both died, may they rest in peace). The year after a third neighbour, John Geelan, was ordained and just a few years before that, John Finn from Gurteen. Five men from the area in about seven years. Like Kilmovee, none since.
A lifetime has passed you could say and nobody has seen a neighbour enter the seminary, study for a number of years and come home to be ordained. I think this is part of the reality of our present situation. People go to college, train to be teachers, doctors or nurses, others join the guards or take courses in farm management. Still others further their skills as carpenters, builders, plumbers and so much more. They talk to their friends about their courses, the life in college, the hopes they have and, in that talk, they spark the thoughts in others “maybe I could do that too” ….
Not so priesthood or religious life. There are so few, and the few there are are so far scattered throughout the country, that the potential for their vocations impacting on others is lessened or eroded. People don’t hear of or know people who are exploring God’s Call.
What can we do? I firmly believe we should pray and encourage. I believe if in a Leaving Cert Class a student expressed thoughts around priesthood or religious life that his or her classmates should support the student and say “yes, why not give it a go”. I think likewise parents and parishioners should encourage thoughts around vocation and not, through negativity or fear, quench the sparks of a flame that might be there.
I believe we need to be positive and when we hear negative comment around church, priesthood etc, if that comment does not reflect our own experience we should say so. “That may be your experience but it’s not mine”. Silence in the face of negative comment suggests support for it. I think that’s a pity. A young man told me in recent years that he was at the dentist and that the dentist told him how much he disliked the church, priests etc. I consider this young man a friend. I knew him as a boy and know him as a man. I said to him “I hope you told him you have a good friend who is a priest”. He looked and me and said, “I did not! He had a drill in my mouth at the time!” Drills aside, it seems to me that much harm is done through negative comment and much harm too, through not at least offering an alternative view.
Priesthood is a good life. We have the privilege of being with people on good and difficult days. Last week I celebrated a wedding and just before Mass this evening received a text from the bride saying how much they had enjoyed the day. I was so happy to hear from her. During the week, I was called to the sudden death of a young man in our parish and allowed share in the grief of his family and community. I do not take this lightly. It matters that we matter and have a place to play in the day to day living of people’s lives.
I believe there is a place for priests in our world. I don’t know what the future will bring to priesthood. Undoubtedly it will bring its own changes and shape but, for now, we can only try to live the priesthood that is in our midst. For now, that is the only priesthood we can seek to encourage.
I think it’s worth doing ……
by Vincent | Sep 13, 2014 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion
Thirty-three years ago today I went to Maynooth (September 13th, 1981). It seems so long ago now and so much has changed. I remember leaving home with my parents. Before leaving I called over to see Fr John Finn who had been ordained a few months earlier. He was from Gurteen and going to minister in New Orleans. He remains a friend, albeit at geographical remove now. My uncle Joe called to see me. He gave me a dressing gown (not a dressing down!!) that I still have. I don’t wear it – never really got into that habit – but I know where it came from. I was excited to be going but nervous too. It was my first time away from home in that sense of knowing that I’d be in another corner and hopefully for a while. I had the accompanying support that day of my parents who drove me and of my brothers who came along as well. That support has been consistent.
I met lovely people in Maynooth – seventy four others, like myself, who were starting out on this road and, like me, uncertain of its destination. Some left along the way and others joined us. Some have remained good friends and others, for some reason, faded a little into the unknown of distance and location and seldom cross my path any more. All of them, in one way or another, shaped my journey and have a place in my heart and prayers.
I spoke once of these and others like them becoming sort of “landmarks” for me. When a place in Ireland is mentioned – maybe Kinnity – I remember Michael who wasn’t ordained but spent a few years with us. Mostrim brings Joe centre stage. Ballycastle in Antrim brings Rory to mind, the Falls Road, Michael, Drimnagh brings Donal into the thoughts of the day, Athlone – Ray and so it goes. Ireland is dotted with places meaning people for, as I’ve often said, people make places. Some girls too became part of that landscape – Sinead from Carrick, Anne from Puckane, Carmel from Cooraclare and more. The network broadened, friendships were made and thankfully continue.
Through the gates in March 1986 (Easter Monday) arrived parents and family, some friends and neighbours for my ordination as a Deacon and over a year later the gates were in the rear-view mirror as I headed West to prepare for Ordination in Gurteen.
September 1981-June 1987 remain among the happiest years of my life. I enjoyed Maynooth very much and thank God that I had the chance to be there. The chance, especially, to be there when there were so many journeying the road to priesthood. How much change there has been with so few in Maynooth now – scarcely the makings of my September 1981 class now make up the full student body of seminarians. This is such a change – when you think that at that time there were seminaries in Carlow, Kilkenny, Thurles, Waterford, Wexford, Clonliffe College in Dublin, All Hallows – not to mention all the religious orders and now all gone with the exception of Maynooth (and of course the Irish College, Rome). Such change!
Earlier today I had the joy of celebrating the wedding mass of a young couple in Kilmovee. Later I baptized a little girl in Brusna and shared the evening at a wedding reception in Co. Roscommon. So much joy has come into my life due to that date, September 13th 1981 and today I think I just want to say thanks for that. Thanks to all who have walked into my life since that day: people I’ve met in parishes and through ministry. Overall it has been a good life, not without its puzzling moments but I’d like to think were I back there again, outside the house in Moygara in 1981, I’d be happy to sit in with Mary and Bill and head towards the Plains of Kildare 🙂
by Vincent | Sep 9, 2012 | General Interest, Religion, Photography
Went to Ballymote last night for the installation of James McDonagh as new Parish Priest.
Bishop Brendan entrusts James with the Book of The Gospels and a key symbolising his care of the parish and its people
Bishop Brendan Kelly was the Principal Celebrant at the Parish’s Vigil Mass and spoke around the Gospel Passage of the healing of the man who could not see or hear. He focused on the idea of people bringing this man to Jesus “they brought to him a man ….” and the role of “they” as Community. He said that without a community around him a priest’s life is lacking and that it is the community that gives fullest meaning to priestly ministry. He commended James to such a community – the people of Ballymote and Doo.
Where will we make the divide?? James with Greg Hannan, former Parish Priest of Ballymote who is to be James’ co-worker in the parish – sharing “the cake” after Mass.
Following Mass there was a gathering in the local Pastoral Centre and it was lovely to see so many people assemble there to wish James well. So also to see, so clearly evident, their good wishes for and appreciation of Greg Hannan who had been Parish Priest and is now to be the curate in Ballymote. People were happy that though the roles had changed, those fulfilling the roles remain as were.
I was reminded last night of James telling me a number of years ago that when he was appointed to Swinford Parish he called to see his mother, (since deceased, R.I.P.) on his way to Swinford for his first Mass there. “What will I say to them?” he asked her. His mother’s response was direct – “Tell them they’re lucky to be getting you”!!! She wasn’t far off the mark and, though James laughed about this, there was truth in it. I felt that last night for the people in Ballymote – I didn’t say it though – in fairness, I think they know 🙂
Best wishes to James and Greg for the next chapter in their ministry in Ballymote and the diocese.