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

Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas

Good evening!  It’s 6.30pm here and in an hour and a half we will have our Christmas Eve Mass in Kilmovee.  Just wanted to let you know you will be in my thoughts and prayers at and during that Mass. I hope that you enjoy much peace and goodwill around these days and that, in your gatherings as family and friends,  you will fully know the value of both.  Many thanks for your kindness to me throughout the past year and for your ongoing friendship.  It is not taken for granted.

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Earlier we gathered in the church with some of our younger parishioners to place the figures in the Crib.  All but one – the one for whom we wait and whose arrival we celebrate throughout the world this night.  May His arrival not go unnoticed, especially by those whose hearts have been hardened through violence and misguided actions.  May the King of Peace bring lasting peace to what is, sadly, a troubled world.

God Bless you all.

Vincent

Dear Pilate – letters exchanged

Dear Pilate – letters exchanged

Dear Pilate,

Not sure how you’ll receive this letter but I think I know you well enough to know you’ll read it.  That would be the Judge in you – the one who reads and listens to the evidence before a judgement is handed down.  You’re trained for this so I’m fairly sure you’ll read and reflect before leaving down this page.

They say your wife sent you a message that day.  Even as I stood before you a woman out of our line of vision saw what you and others could not see.  I’m told she said it was a dream, as if my Father doesn’t speak to us in our dreams.  “Have nothing to do with that man” – is that what she said?  Needless to say, I’m glad you didn’t fully take that advice literally.  You see that’s why we met that day because too many people decided they’d have “nothing to do with that man”.  I know that’s not what she meant but it’s what they meant.  For having nothing to do with that man gave them an excuse not to listen and not to change and not to follow.  Having nothing to do with that man allowed them distance and, at times distance is dangerous.  It leaves too much room, literally, too much room for error, gossip, lack of judgement – wrong decisions.

There was very little room between us.  I knew you knew what was happening was wrong.  You wondered why I was silent.  You even uttered something stupid about your authority.  You were searching for words, Pilate but deep down you knew what I knew.  All this was happening because of jealousy.  Your wife spoke to you out of love – love for you and, through her dreams, love for me.  Her dreams told her something of what I was about – the Author of her dreams, wanted to awaken in her awareness of hope and change.  You didn’t listen to her – well you did and you didn’t.  You washed your hands, declared your innocence and handed me over.  It’s not what you wanted to do though and that’s the bit that stayed with me.  Not so much that you caved in, passed sentence as you didn’t do what you wanted to do – needed to do – the right thing to do.

I don’t blame you Pilate.  When we were on our own, I knew what you wanted.  The crowd just got the better of you.  All I’d ask is that now you’d follow your inner promptings more – err always on the side of compassion.  “Be compassionate as your Heavenly Father is compassionate and you will have compassion shown you”.

Jesus.

PILATE’S REPLY

Dear Jesus,

Again, you were right.  I read your letter and re-read it many times.  Just as I have re-lived that day many times.  It was my chance to do the right thing.  I felt guilty about letting Barrabas go.  He was a nasty piece of goods.  I couldn’t believe it when they called his name.  I still hear that chant when I try to sleep.  “Not this man, Barabbas” Oddly enough, I heard that you later pardoned a criminal and I took some small consolation from that.  At least we did something the same, even if your forgiveness were less reluctant than mine.

Authority is such a difficult place to be.  I felt so stupid talking to you about my authority to release you or condemn you.  People used me to suit themselves.  Your case, no different than many for always there were victors and losers after a case.  I always hoped I’d made the right decision but sometimes would have heard that someone I declared innocent had, in fact, used the system to beat the system.  Bad as that was, I heard too of the innocence of ones I judged guilty.  Your case was different though.  I knew you shouldn’t be there.  Everything in me wanted to shout at them “leave him alone” but the words wouldn’t come.  Yes, I got a message from my wife that day.  Pretty much along the lines you mention.  “Have nothing to do with that man.  I have been troubled all day by a dream I had about him”.  Her words, much as I value them, were not what convinced me.  I was convinced, even before I met you.  We talked, at our judicial parties, in our houses, on our travels about you.  We heard all the things you had done.  Word gets around.  There was something very different about you.  Of course my wife’s words were significant. But like mine, they were drowned out by the roar of the crowd.  “Crucify him”, “If you let him go you are no friend of Caesar’s”, “Not this man, Barrabas” “Let his blood be on us and on our children”.  The judge was afraid.  The good word was drowned out by the bad.  The light overshadowed by the darkness.  I lost my way.  Washing my hands was a wasted exercise – a waste of water – and, as I thought at the time, a waste of your life. 

I was pleased, shocked yes, but breathlessly pleased to hear of an empty tomb, shocked guards and new hope.  Could it be true?  The one condemned, the one executed, the one betrayed had risen from the dead.  Today I get your letter.  Your words and your eternal promise jump off the page and find life in my heart.  You live.  Praised be God forever.

Pilate.

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