We have Mass in Kilmovee this evening (Friday 15th) to celebrate the many people who minister in the community. The idea has floated for a while but comes to fruition this evening. In trying to get an idea of numbers and certainly not having them all, over 15o people are involved in various ministries in the parish – Eucharistic Ministers, Ministers of the Word, choirs, counters, collectors, various committees and community bodies, sacristans, Altar Society and more. It was encouraging to arrive at that number and is undoubtedly a source of consolation. I am glad we have this chance to say thanks and, after Mass, we will gather for a little food and time together in the Community Centre.
In trying to find a few words to share, I thought of a piece I wrote for the Parish Magazine a few years ago and am thinking of using it again tonight. Thought I might share it here too …
Gathered to celebrate – people in Ministry in the Parish of Kilmovee
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?
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 seemingly unaware that poems should have a rhyming pattern!
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 knew there were questions but I thought answers were easily found. Things had an order about them – a sort of pattern like the rhyming poem.
The rhyme continued. Most people went to Mass. Churches were relatively full most of the time. Prayers were said and it seemed so important to keep the Parish together. I enjoyed those early days.
“The Lord be with you”, I would say “And also with you” as one they’d pray Great to see you; and so it was Together then we’d stand and pause Sins confessed, Sacred Story shared His Body and Blood for all, nothing spared.
First baptism, first wedding – such joyful occasions, shared easily with people oozing joy 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 through the gentleness of the Sacrament. First Communion Days and Confirmation in the parish all combined to enrich 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, loss of Faith, decline in practice, indifference, hostility, scandals, doubts, anger, negative press, decline of vocations …. and still, through it all, 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?”
The rhyme was in decline but the poem was still needed. I looked for signs, listened for voices, sought direction – wondered! Somehow, thanks be to God, the heart of the poem remained intact, enriched even by some of life’s questions and held sacred in the lives of many good people who cradled the faith, caressed the verse and, in time, helped me realise:
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.
Earlier today (Sunday 10th February) we had a very large gathering for the 10am Mass in Kilmovee. The Mass was offered as a Month’s Mind Mass in memory of a young man from the parish who died tragically on New Year’s Day. In trying to find a few words to share, I woke up this morning remembering another young man who died in similar circumstances a number of years ago. His mother spoke to me at the time about the concerns she had for her son’s friends and asked me to try to speak to them in some way. Again, unsure what to do or how to do that, I decided to write a letter to the friends – an imagined letter, from the young man’s Guardian Angel. I searched for those words (already on the blog) and decided to change them, just a little, since it’s almost certain I’d have written the original ones slightly different were I to have another go. I called the Guardian Angel “Súil”, meaning hope and now realise that is a verb “to hope” but maybe that’s no bad thing either. The more commonly used word is “Dóchas” but maybe hope needs to be a verb – something being done, something lived. In any case I shared these words at Mass and a few people asked me since for a copy. I’m going to include them here and hopefully they might speak to someone who needs to hear – “hopes” to hear something of encouragement. God Bless you all.
Dear Friends of Brian,
My name is Súil. I know you don’t know me though I have often been in your midst. I am Brian’s Guardian Angel. Like you, I felt such sadness as the news reached your ears that he had died. I talked to God and told him I felt I had failed. He asked me to watch out for Brian. Though I am supposed to know things, there were times I left the house with him and hadn’t a clue where we were going or what the night would bring. I enjoyed his company though, and deep down, he knew I was there. He knew God was there. God told me the other night that I hadn’t let him down. He said and I remember his words so clearly; “Súil, you were the last to say goodbye and the first to say hello”. God too wished that Brian had made different choices and especially this, his last and irreversible, choice.
You see what Brian knew was the love of his family, his friends and his desire for peace. He knew the future was taking shape and that the past, whatever he might have thought of it, helped shape that future. He came from a bright and caring family and was surrounded by so many good friends.
What Brian did not see, though in all honesty I tried to tell him, was the tears in your eyes. I whispered and shouted at him but somehow he could not hear me. If he did, he certainly gave no impression of having heard me. I know enough about him to be certain that he’d not have put anyone through the grief and sadness around us these past few weeks. God said to me, the other night, that He still cannot understand how slow people are to realise how much they mean. Regardless of what happens in life, regardless of the successes or mistakes, we matter to so many people. If only we could fully take that in. I’ve been there myself, even as an Angel, that feeling that nobody would really notice if I faded out but then thankfully something always reminds me that were I not around the world would be minus something special – something holy – someone needed.
I suppose that’s why I am writing these few lines, to thank you all for noticing and to say I am sorry for your tears. God wants me to say to all Brian’s friends: look around you – look at the tears on your own cheeks, feel the sadness in your own hearts and look at the faces of Brian’s family. Your lives are so, so precious. So many people need you and depend on you. Don’t ever think your life doesn’t matter or that you’d not be missed.
My friend – our friend, Brian must not have seen this on New Year’s Day. He knew it absolutely but somehow for a second, a second that can never be re-claimed, he didn’t see it. It’s so important that we all see and know the love of those around us – family, friends and all who are there to help.
We should not be here. Brian should not be gone from us. I still had miles to travel with him – we all had.
Your Angels want to travel with you.
Súil (hope)
O Angel of God
my guardian dear;
to whom God’s love
commits me here,
ever this day
be at my side
to light and guard
to rule and guide.
Amen.
Okay, I know I should find something else to do but I had been talking with Johnny Duffy about old cars! I’d mentioned the Peugeot 403 to him and he could not recall it. He remembered the 404 alright! I told him that my father had once adapted the boot of Alfie Gallagher’s Peugeot 403 to include a sink with hot and cold running water where Alife, a vet, could wash his hands in a farmyard before getting back into the car. Johnny reminds me of my father, he’s a sort of inventive character who repairs rather than replaces. I told him that Columbo used to drive a Peugeot 403 in the old TV series of the same name. Johnny remembered Columbo (Peter Falk) but not the car. I was even able to tall Johnny where petrol was filled in the 403 – a flap that lifted up on the left-hand back tail light!
The snow came and I was sort of housebound so I did as you can only do at times like that – hit YouTube! I typed in Columbo and Peugeot 403 and found this clip!
Later I found this one …. it includes the one above but features the car a bit more!! I love the line where he says his wife has another car but “that’s just for transportation, nothing special”
and later, I found this one – not linked to Columbo’s car but a good walk around an old car!!
And totally separate to all of these, I found myself in Jay Leno’s garage looking at a Citroen DS
And that led to this ….
then this …..
and then, snow or no snow, I knew it was time to go out!!
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