I was sad to hear of the death of Bishop Eddie Daly, R.I.P. He’s one of those people that always seems to have been there in my lifetime. How many times we’ve seen the image of him, hunched with white waving handkerchief in hand, seeking to lead people to safety in the midst of a blood-stained Derry Sunday on January 30th 1972. I was nine years old then but remember that image and moment. Pure horror and a man seeking to make a difference in the midst of it all.
Some ten years later I recall trying to annoy one of my Derry classmates who (rightly) saw Eddie as hero. I asked would he like to see my impersonation of him and when he said yes, I took a hankie from my pocket and waved it in the air. He was not impressed! It’s a powerful moment, cherished in the memory of all who saw it and, for many, a shared memory that is all too real. My “impersonation” was at a very superficial level and served little by way of justice and depth, to the respect I had and have for Bishop Daly.
Scaffolding in place around works at St Agnes’ Cathedral, Rockville Centre
I was reminded today of Seamus Heaney’s poem “Scaffolding” and it strikes me that Bishop Daly and many others like him have sought to protect and maintain a sense of place and church in our midst. For years, as priest and bishop, he lived where he loved, served his own people and knew their ways. He was inspirational. He became “scaffolding” allowing people maintain and indeed overcome the “walls” of Derry that they might become places of meeting rather than division, peace instead of conflict and hope instead of despair. Maurice Harron’s famous sculpture on the outskirts of the city shows two men reaching out to one another from the walls of their tradition. The hands almost touch and I believe that Eddie Daly in the scaffolding he provided allowed for that touch to finally become real.
Next Saturday I’m due to lead a Lenten Retreat at the Galilee Centre, Boyle. I’ve been there before and it’s a very special place – lovely location overlooking the lake.
The nearest landmark to it is the “GAELIC CHIEFTAIN”, that noble horse and horseman overlooking the Curlews. I like that piece of art a lot, not least because I know the man who created it – Maurice Harron. Maurice lived in Cloonloo for a number of years and was a family friend. Though we’ve lost contact in recent years, I still number him in that category and know that were we to meet tomorrow there’d be plenty to speak about.
The Community in Galilee asked me for a theme for the day and one of Leonard Cohen’s songs came to mind. It’s called “COME HEALING” and there’s a powerful line in there that says: “The splinters that you carry, the cross you left behind” and that struck me as a good title for the day.
Now to put something with that title! I wonder would any of you be willing to offer a few suggestions? I won’t publish them if you don’t want me to but maybe they’d help me to focus on what people might want, having taken a day out of their lives, to come to Galilee.
So the thought for today: The “horseman” is a landmark, made all the more real and meaningful because I know the hands behind it. We need landmarks in life and we need to know “The Creator” too.
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These are Cohen’s Lyrics for “COME HEALING”
O gather up the brokenness
And bring it to me now
The fragrance of those promises
You never dared to vow
The splinters that you carry
The cross you left behind
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind
And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb
Behold the gates of mercy
In arbitrary space
And none of us deserving
The cruelty or the grace
O solitude of longing
Where love has been confined
Come healing of the body
Come healing of the mind
O see the darkness yielding
That tore the light apart
Come healing of the reason
Come healing of the heart
O troubled dust concealing
An undivided love
The Heart beneath is teaching
To the broken Heart above
O let the heavens falter
And let the earth proclaim:
Come healing of the Altar
Come healing of the Name
O longing of the branches
To lift the little bud
O longing of the arteries
To purify the blood
And let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb
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