by Vincent | May 12, 2018 | Reflections
Dear Donal,
I went to Knock yesterday. I wasn’t at all clued in to what was going to happen there. Your mother mentioned a few months ago that there’d be Mass for your Fifth Anniversary and that if I was free, I’d be welcome to join in. I planned on keeping the day free and am so glad I did.
I arrived in Knock about an hour before the time I thought Mass was taking place. Happily I was very early as the Mass was set for an hour and half later than I had been told by your mother!! (Wonder was she always good at times????) I met Fr Richard Gibbons as I walked towards the Basilica and he told me the Mass was at 1.30. I had a cup of coffee with him and went over a while later. As I walked into the Basilica I met hundreds of students walking out. They looked so happy and sounded so cheerful. I had no idea where they were going but heard mention of “workshops” so figured they were going to hear and share a bit more somewhere or other. When I got inside there were still hundreds, if not thousands, of school-goers there – from all over the country. School crests and uniforms identifying the broad canvas of this gathering. It looked so impressive.
I saw the bishop of your diocese there and nodded to him. I took a seat and listened to a recently ordained priest speak of you. He, like me, had never met you but was clearly impressed by your story. He shared his – a soccer player who thought he had his dreams fulfilled only to realise he is still living his dream and has more road to travel or, as you might say, “hills” to climb. I realised later that others had spoken before him – spoken words of encouragement that you’d have been proud of.
I met your father and mother and, for the first time, your sister. We didn’t have much chance to talk but their pride in you was palpable. I’m sure they remembered that night you spoke to us through a camera lens and asked us to value life and how, in particular, you called on your own peers to treasure and cherish the gift that is theirs in the opportunity for life and love, faith and adventure.
The Mass was, as it should be, amazing and inviting. The priests in the entrance procession were accompanied by young people carrying colourful flags. I asked the girl beside me her name and where she was from. “Tralee”, she said. We smiled and I knew she was proud to be from your town. A large number of priests concelebrated, as did your bishop and the Papal Nuncio presided. Your name sounded strange from his lips but it was clear he knew about whom he spoke and in whose memory we had gathered. Your reach has been far Donal, and it continues.
I thought again of Fr Walsh’s words to you – when you asked what Heaven would be like. He said it would be a better place with you in it. He was right. I often think of Knock as a place where “Heaven met earth” in the quiet presence of Our Lady as she offered reassurance to our people on that August evening in in 1879. I equally had a sense of the two meeting yesterday and you were deeply embedded in that quiet presence.
They walked last night Donal, from darkness to light – in towns and villages all over Ireland and beyond, begging for deliverance from the scourge of death by suicide. Alas, I didn’t walk this year, but it’s a message we need to proclaim and your voice is found in every word of that message as is the determination of your family to deliver that message in your name. Some of your Tralee friends sang for us yesterday and surely their powerful voices and music and willingness to be there to share their talents, offer a mighty message of hope. If only people can take a few more steps to get over the hill and see more clearly the goodness that’s to be seen and the help that’s available.
I’ve been in Knock many times through the years Donal but there was something very special about yesterday. A wonderful gathering took place in your name and though I’m much older than the ones gathered in their thousands, I was glad to be there.
Keep up the good work. Heaven and earth are better places because of it.
Vincent
by Vincent | Feb 21, 2018 | Reflections, Lent 2018
Casting its shadow – Culmore Cemetery (Kilkelly)
It’s a week now since we received the cross of ashes. Its shape most likely disappeared by bedtime and most certainly washed away in the cleansing waters of Thursday morning. You’d like to think its memory has lingered a while and grounded us a little.
Today’s photo is from our November Prayers in Culmore Cemetery. As the prayers concluded, the sun came out and rose to a point in the sky where it cast a long shadow over the people as they walked and talked following our prayers. I thought of the shadow the cross casts over so many people and, unlike the one in the photo, the cross with all its weight and pain doesn’t fade quickly or pass from sight in the twinkle of an eye or shifting of the clouds.
A thought today for those so burdened. Parents grieving the loss of a child – maybe a child they never got to say hello to or one who lived and loved and left. Husbands, wives, parents, children, friends, neighbours trying to come to terms with their grief and loss. We think of those meeting doctors today who may not have a good story to hear. We remember all battling addiction and pray strength and guidance for them. We pray for healing and forgiveness for those who have been hurt by life’s experiences. We pray and, with Simon and Veronica, allow ourselves to step from or be taken from the crowd to bring healing, a soothing hand and a caring word.
The shadow cast by the cross runs long and deep but let us pray that it be a shadow that will in time – sooner rather than later – give way to hope.
Leonard Cohen put it well in his prayer for healing:
“The splinters that we carry – the cross we left behind – come healing of the body – come healing of the mind.”
by Vincent | Feb 20, 2018 | Reflections, Lent 2018
I haven’t seen the movie “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” but just watched the trailer now. A woman, feeling she has been deprived of justice, following the murder of her daughter, leaves no stone un-turned in her pursuit of justice. From the clip I just watched, it would seem she left no feathers or personages unruffled either. You can see where she’s coming from.
The three billboards outside Ebbing are there to be seen (or ignored) by all who pass the road. Her desire, her absolute need, of course, is that they will be seen and evoke response.
In looking through photos just now, I saw again these three candles and thought the link too good to pass up on!! These candles too call people to response. Like the billboards, they have their message. Maybe one of them is calling us to spend time with God The Father today, the second encouraging us to hear again the words of Jesus Christ and maybe the third is calling us to an encounter with The Holy Spirit. Again, maybe one is asking us to come to terms with the past, a second to embrace the present and the third to put trust in God’s guidance of our future.
Endless possibilities as to what these three candles might have to say. The difference between them and the billboards is that we have to pull off the road for a while, enter a church (like Kilmovee, Co. Mayo) and see the signs that are there for all who choose to enter.
The link … the absolute love of a parent …. of God …. for the child.
by Vincent | Feb 15, 2018 | Reflections, Lent 2018
Cemetery at St Patrick’s Kiltegan
During the week, I had the joy of spending a bit of time with the priests of St Patrick’s Missionary Society (Kiltegan). I was there for a Day of Recollection.
After lunch I walked to the cemetery and spent a bit of time there. I found names I knew: Ciaran Needham, Kevin Brehony, Leo O’Sullivan and others that I’d heard of, Vincent McNamara and one that I met when there for the annual retreat in 2016; Padraig Ó’Máille who died last year, R.I.P.
The Cemetery is overshadowed by a wind turbine and I couldn’t help but make the connection between the energy it produces and the energy these men brought to mission. I had a sense of the shafts of the turbine overshadowing me and there was a certain reassurance in the whirring sound they made. The sound of energy. A necessary sound for where there’s movement – life – there’s sound too.
I was reminded of a piece written many years ago about another cemetery in the grounds of Dalgan Park where Columban missionaries are buried. The writer mentions the simplicity of the headstones – name, date of birth and date of death. He concludes “but God knows the full story”. So also the Kiltegan headstones and the knowing of the full story.
Many of the men I met the other day are aged and tired but wonderfully cared for. They have a certain and deserved level of comfort but I had a strong sense of many of them having a deep longing for missionary days again in far flung lands.
I gave a lift to one of the newest Kiltegan priests, Fr Patrick, ordained just five years. He was travelling to Knock and we crossed the country together. Fr Patrick is one of the first African born Kiltegan priests and is visiting Ireland for the first time. I mentioned to him that I’d spent the bit of time in the Cemetery. I spoke of Kevin Brehony and he said “there’s a plaque in his memory in my church”. It was as if Patrick knew Kevin but then I realised Kevin is dead over thirty years and Patrick was, at most, three years old when he died and Kevin had been in Ireland for a number of years prior to his death. It’s likely Patrick never met Kevin but he knew him. He spoke of another man that I had met earlier and told me there’s a street named after him in an African city. It was clear to me that Patrick carries in his heart a depth of gratitude that runs deeper than the six foot grave.
These people made and continue to make a difference.
Lenten thought …. what difference will we make? For what will we be remembered?
by Vincent | Dec 31, 2017 | Reflections
St Joseph’s Church, Urlaur – Christmas 2017
Dear 2017,
In a few short hours, you will be replaced by 2018. All over the world, as midnight finds its hour in a variety of time-zones, people will embrace, kiss and wish each other well. Others will be at home alone and just remember other days. Some will be in bed, asleep and unaware that the ticking has been done and that you have closed down. Thought I’d like to share a few words with you before you leave.
Like every other year, you’ve brought your share of joys and sorrows to the lives of people at home and away. In fairness, it’s not as if you brought either – you just happened to be there but, there you were. Headstones will have your number engraved beneath the names of loved ones. Still others will have you at the latter end of a dash 19**-2017, book ending you as the final moment on a life’s journey. Alongside that, millions of babies – tomorrow’s men and women – will have you included on birth and baptismal certificates, numbering you – quite literally – as their starting point. Yes, you’ve witnessed a lot of comings and goings since January.
I don’t remember much, month by month of what happened this year but there are things I’m thankful for – like solid friendships, support, good humour, health and happiness – Faith too. These combine to make me feel something approaching secure and at peace in myself. Friendship is especially important to me and I’d like to think I kept in contact with people throughout the year. Certainly I know I’m thankful this New Year’s Eve to all who have kept in contact with me. It’s likely of course that there are people I did not speak to or visit during the past twelve months but I’m certain that those who matter to me – even those with whom I might have lost contact – have been part of my thoughts and prayers. I count good friends among my greatest blessing and the corner stone of my life.
As for people that I’ve not been in touch with or with whom I’ve lost contact -there’s a regret around that for sure. Maybe I could have said or done more to make this a year of re-connection. Yes 2017, I’m sorry about that for sure. You might ask your successor to help me not have similar regrets in twelve months’ time.
I was happy to have two booklets published this year and to begin contributing a fairly regular column to The Irish Catholic and Messenger publications. I enjoy words and trying to shape a few ideas and all of these have helped me towards that end. It was good, I hope not in an opinionated way, to see my words and thoughts on paper that I didn’t produce or on a website that I hadn’t logged into. There was something very life giving to me, in seeing my words matter enough to be shared. Most of the words are about what matters to me and motivates me so maybe I’m doing some service as well, to God’s will and purpose. I’d like to think that much of what I say, finds it roots in God’s word and a desire to do the right thing by God.
Once again I had the chance to spend some time in Rockville Centre during your months and that has been a joy to me and for me for twenty years now. I was happy to meet again people who have become part of my life during those years. I always feel lucky to be able to make that connection.
In the parish, I was again lucky to have so many good people who share the way with me. I’d like to think, as the hours draw to a close, that I did my best (or as close to it as possible) in being with people during the year. We shared, like everyone else, good days and bad, happy occasions and sad but the key word is “shared”. I feel happy that a lot of good was done in the parish during the months of 2017. Of course the moving of my co-worker, Fr John, to a new parish brought its own level of changes and loss but, for him, you were a year of new promise and opportunity. The people rallied around that change and have been so supportive. Certainly they have made life easier for me and adjustment more manageable. For this and more, I am thankful.
Again family has been a constant in my life during the year and I was happy to recall again the days around my ordination – thirty years ago – and to remember alongside them, the support and love of my parents, brothers and their families. Mixed with this, needless to say, a sense of loss for those who have died and others with whom I don’t have contact as often or as fully as I would wish. All things considered though, 2017 was kind to my family and for that too, I’m thankful.
This blog has been a companion too and you, who read it regularly or occasionally and tell me you enjoy it, give me great hope and encouragement. Sometimes, even to sit and look at a blank screen, hoping to fill it with something that might make a difference, is enough incentive to keep going. I hope that the words you’ve met here, the songs you’ve heard or the video clips you’ve viewed, have – in some small but meaningful way – helped you journey through the year.
There was a lot of sadness in our world during your months. Again, not of your making, but forever linked with you now when history is recalled. The level of cruelty that exists in the world is frightening and innocence found in innocent people counts for little when attacks show no concern for the well-being of people or the protection of life. News headlines and broadcasts reminded us, all too often, that cruelty is rampant. It was sad to see so much destruction of life during the months of this year. Once again, since it is the only reasonable response to this, we all hope and pray for a more peaceful future.
So, as the time closes in now, I’ve decided not to send out endless texts or WhatsApps! I’ve decided to be thankful for the goodness of people, the Love and protection of God and the desire for peace that binds us as one.
Thanks 2017. You did your best. The rest was down to us!
Happy New Year.
