by Vincent | Jul 13, 2016 | General Interest, Reflections, Poetry, homily
I was asked earlier today to write a few lines for the tenth edition of our Parish Magazine. I said yes. There was no suggestion around what I should write but that’s the way the editorial team has been with me over the years. It’s left to myself. I was reminded of words I wrote nearly two years ago for the magazine. They’re elsewhere in this blog but I thought I’d bring them to the front again. It was a thought around the changes I’ve encountered since ordination but also of the consistency that remains for all of us, found in the day to day living of life and journeying in faith ……
There was, in poetry, a time
I thought things had to rhyme
That was, in poetry, the only way
At least that’s what I used to say!
But of that today I’m not so sure
Could it be I’m more mature?
The lines above speak to something of the truth. As a student in St Nathy’s College, I never fully understood poems that didn’t rhyme. More than that, I disliked them and the “poets” who wrote them so obviously unaware that poems should have a rhyming pattern. I remember pointing this out on one occasion, only to be told by a fellow pupil who understood things at a deeper level than I and who knew, even then, that poems didn’t have to rhyme: “Vincent, that is the basic essence of poetry”! I disliked him as well that day (had I been on Facebook, I’d probably have de-friended him!!)
It was handy when the poem rhymed! It was easier to learn, easier to remember and easier to churn out on a page of an Inter or Leaving Certificate answer book.
Back to the poetry!
So is that I’m more mature?
Like you, of that, I’m not so sure
From whence then came the clue
Some don’t rhyme and some just do
The answer I suppose lies in life … as a boy, a student in Maynooth, a newly ordained priest I thought answers were easily found. Things had an order about them – a sort of pattern like the rhyming poem. Before I was ordained, people wished me well. They seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing, felt the need for me to be a priest and, when I was ordained they assured me of their prayers, friendship and lasting support.
Most people went to Mass. Churches were well filed, if not full most of the time. Prayers were said and it seemed so important to keep the Parish together. I enjoyed those early days. I drove too fast and missed a lot of what was so powerfully on display. Good and decent people, doing the best they could for family, church and parish – for me; “the new curate!”
The rhyme was in full flow ……
“The Lord be with you”, I would say
“And also with you” as one we’d pray
Great to see you and so it was
And then to think we’d stand and pause
Sins confessed, Sacred Story shared
His Body for all, nothing spared.
First baptism, first wedding – such joyful occasions, shared easily with people oozing joy. Their new child, their early days of love, how easily to stand with them on days like that when photos were taken, words spoken and happiness owned the day. I don’t remember the First Confession I heard and often think that tells its own reassuring story of the sacredness of that Sacrament. Lines drawn in the sand, and no need to re-live or re-visit – that’s the way it’s meant to be, people move on renewed and refreshed having been forgiven by one in need too of God’s forgiveness. The rhythm of the Sacraments added its own shape to the rhyme.
He died in a tragic accident. His wife and children were devastated and the community drew to a halt. I went to the hospital for the removal and an elderly woman told me afterwards how sorry she felt for me in my short-sleeved shirt. I could as easily have been a boy in short trousers. Words were scarce and the rhyme was gone … it’s hard to speak in rhyme or think in rhyme when people’s hearts are broken. There were others like that, sudden deaths, car accidents, cancer and sickness, relationships ended, rows between people, loss of Faith, decline in practice, indifference, hostility, doubts and anger, nobody in Maynooth …. and still the whispered refrain “I the Lord of sea and sky, I have heard my people cry. I who made the stars of night, I will make their darkness bright …… Whom shall I send?”
Somewhere in and through all of this, unknown to myself, I leaned that …..
poems don’t have to rhyme but
they should speak
to a soul in need of Grace
a wound in need of healing
a heart in need of mending
a darkness in need of light
a thought in need
of sharing
And that’s what I want to say. Despite the difficulties and the sadness, the changes and the uncertainties, the Poem must go on. We must find time to share thoughts and place with one another, to bring people to that point where the Word is heard even if not fully grasped and prayers are prayed even in uncertainty.
I hope this piece isn’t out of place here – It’s just another angle, another verse in a lifelong poem, shared not by a poet but one who is privileged to share this place with all of you in a very special way and by one who depends so heavily on all of you for word and verse, song and tune, prayer and peace!
Rhyming or not, what we are living is poetry.
by Vincent | Aug 8, 2015 | Reflections, Religion
This was a busy week in our parish. Cemetery Masses, Kilkelly Festival, Concert and the Urlaur Pattern. It was heart-warming to see so many people gather to remember, pray, shed a tear as well as to laugh, dance a step, whistle a tune or sing a song. A very balanced mix of emotions and a fine display of talent. We can be proud of our week in the parish.
One of the moments that stays very much with me this day, is the “Naming of Religious” from the parish that was a central part of our Pattern Mass this year. The Mass, celebrated in St Joseph’s Church, saw the church filled to capacity. The “calling by name” took place after the homily and before the presentation of the gifts of bread and wine. Four people from our community, took their turn to read from a prepared list that bore the name of 108 men and women from the parish who said “Yes” to the Lord’s call to serve Him and His Church as a priest, brother or sister. Perhaps some found another path later in life but the call, nonetheless was heard and responded to in Faith, Hope and Love. There were names missed too, of course, but there was a space for them in the sacred silence of St Joseph’s and it’s not too late to add any omitted names to a future list. For the moment, the Pattern Moment, we allowed those names be heard. As each list concluded, we sounded a bell, the great call to prayer, and after a little space for silence, said together words adapted from the Ceremony of Ordination; “May God, who begun the good work in them, bring it to fulfilment”.
It was, in truth, a very moving ceremony and locating it in the Eucharistic gathering of the Urlaur Pattern seemed so fitting. The Dominicans, who came as strangers to the lakeshore at Urlaur and built stone on stone to create “God’s House” must have rejoiced to hear this moment too. From a historic place of Faith to the newest Church in our diocese, the journey continues.
It’s remarkable to think we know of at least 108 men and women from our parish who, in living memory, found in their Souls, the willingness to say “yes” to God’s call. They served His Church in a variety of ministries at home and abroad. They truly made a difference.
That call remains a true need of our day too. How can we allow it be heard more clearly?
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 🙂
