For years I have loved the poem “The Touch Of The Master’s Hand” by Myra Brooks Welch and it remains one of my favourite recitations. Earlier I decided to record it with the music of Fr James McDonagh in the background. He is playing the Waves of Kilkee.
It’s not normal!
There are phrases that have become part of our lives in recent months. “These are strange times?”, “Unprecedented”, “How many cases?” and “It’s the new normal”, to name a few.
I want the “old normal” back. I’m not even sure what it was but it certainly was better than what’s passing for the new.
I heard a child psychologist on the radio the other day and he took issue with the phrase “The new normal” as well. He said it simply is not normal to be living the way we are now. He fielded questions from listeners, most of them around children’s fears and their reactions to what is going on now and he said that, for children, these are very confusing times and that we need to keep telling the children these are not normal times.
It is not normal for us to be fearful or suspicious of other people. It is not normal for us to stand six feet apart from others and to walk around with our faces masked. It is not normal for us to walk into a shop with our faces covered and it is not normal for us to have to write our names down when visiting a restaurant. It is not normal for us to have, as our main news headline, numbers read out and totals given of people who have become sick or died. It is not normal.
It is not normal to not be able to travel or welcome people who are visiting us. It is not normal when musicians and entertainers cannot perform. It is not normal when families cannot be together to share the joyous and difficult moments of family life.
It is not normal to have our churches practically empty, with seats closed off and people encouraged to be apart in a House that seeks to bring them together. Far from normal, it is sad, heartbreaking and bordering on Soul destroying.
Though it is not normal, there can be no denying it is necessary and we do well to follow guidelines and directives given. At the back of our minds, in the core of our spirits and in the depths of our hearts we must never accept this as a “normal” way of living. Doing all we can, not least through sacrifice and heeding advice, we must work towards better days, more healthy times and freer lifestyles.
Roll on the “old” normality.
Earlier today, Sunday August 2nd, I had the privilege of preaching at the Month’s Mind Mass in memory of Colm Horkan. The Mass was celebrated in Fr O’Hara Park, Charlestown, the home of Charlestown Sarsfields GAA and, in so many ways, Colm’s second home.
Below is part of the YouTube video streamed live by Charlestown Sarsfields’ GAA Club.
I include also the text I had written last night. It varies, in parts from what was spoken because I did not want to be tied to a script nor allow a page come between me and those gathered there to remember. There were a few lines in the text I’d like to have included but there are words in the clip that I had not thought of until I spoke.
I know that Colm loved cars! It’s one of the interests I can share with him. Today I’m thinking of his AUDI and, in particular thinking of the four intertwined circles that make up the Audi Logo. There is something about them that I like, maybe it’s the Four Evangelists that combine to tell us the story of Christ. Today’s Gospel told by one of them, brings to us a wonderful story that is told by some of the others too, but we will come back to that …….
With your permission, I’d like to think of Colm in terms of those four interwoven circles. Maybe we could name them. FAMILY, SPORT, FAITH, GARDAÍ. The fact that they are interwoven speaks of the oneness of a man’s life – Colm’s life.
We stand here today, as we did in the wake of that awful Wednesday night, with Colm’s family and we say again “Sorry for your trouble”. Not a throwaway phrase but one that speaks to the truth of how any right-minded person should feel. We truly wish that Marty, his daughter and sons, did not have to go through these endless weeks of grief and face a future without one whom they so clearly loved. His uncles, aunts, nephews and nieces, cousins and friends too. It has truly been said that the only way we can be sure we never cry at a funeral is to never love anyone. Colm was so obviously loved, and many here today allowed themselves to love him, were privileged to love him and so tears are the only response to that. Colm valued his friends, loved and cherished his family. He was the oldest and, it seems, wisdom came with that cherished place. His advice was sought, it was given and his advice was solid. He lived for his family, shared a home with his father and from that home lived a full life, deeply aware that he mattered greatly. Watching that final horse race, before leaving for work, I have no doubt he left the house, thankful for its shelter, thankful for his father and grateful to have that place called home, to return to when work was done. Sadly, that return was delayed and different to anything he or any of us could ever have imagined. That home was central to him and held deep memories of his twin, Colette and of his mother Dolores. It was the place of meeting his sister and brothers, their families and his friends. Here, his circle was complete – the family circle.
“As I stand on the ground where you stood”, Dana once sang these words – remembering Pope John Paul 11’s visit to Ireland … she shared the ground and its memories. We stand today on the ground where Colm stood (and no doubt fell) in the name of sport. The second circle! From a young age, Fr O’Hara Park and Charlestown Sarsfields were his second home. Playing at every level from he was ten years old, he gave thirty years to the Sarsfields’ jersey and wore it with pride. Successful on the pitch, one friend says “he led from the front and was an inspiration to his teammates” – crucial moments are recalled, including a goal scored in an U-14 final. Imagine that, though in the shadow of his 50th birthday, he is remembered for a goal scored nearly forty years ago! Off the pitch too, he lived for this town and its Club. Keen to the end, I recall seeing him kicking a ball in the name of Sarsfields on a very recent Twitter feed. There is a togetherness in sport that only those immersed in it can fully grasp or appreciate. Those of you here today, who played in the fifteen with him, know what I mean. Those of you here today who heard his roars from the pitch or the sideline know what I mean. Those of you here today who shared the highs of success or the bitter lows of defeat with him know what I mean. Those of you here today, who know these things, are remembered too and we know that you truly have lost someone who shared with you, more than a jersey, but someone who shared with you a passion for life. Sport mattered. Can I say to you, if you are finding this hard, and if you don’t know where to turn, I once heard a footballer and friend of mine speak of a pep talk before a crucial game. The manager told them that if the game was going badly, not to try to be too adventurous, just take a short pass from a teammate or give a short pass, don’t be too elaborate and, he concluded “Do something simple with the ball. Play yourself back into the game.” Though I never played football or stood in a clubhouse or dugout, those lines mean something to me. I share them for what they are worth with all of you today, coming to terms with Colm’s death, “Do something simple with the ball, play yourself back into the game”, because the sportsman in him would want nothing less.
The Gospel today speaks of Jesus feeding more than five thousand people with a handful of bread and fish. It is truly one of the most memorable of the miracles and speaks of nourishment. The story told by Matthew today is told by some of the others as well and, one of the other accounts, says that the source of the loaves and fishes was a young boy in the crowd. I always admire that young lad who gave what he had so that it could make a difference. In the eyes of some, the offering was too small and insignificant and could go nowhere near what was needed. Yet the boy offered it. He had received good example from somewhere – his mother maybe! He had enough faith to know that if his offering was sincere, Jesus would do the rest. The THIRD CIRCLE! Faith. Colm offered what he had, who he was what he could become to that large field of life, the field of thousands. How many did he feed through his work? How many lives did he touch because the boy in him had a dream of making a difference? Down the road, in Charlestown church, I’ve no doubt he served Mass as a boy and, as a man, stood in front of his family and neighbours and read the Word of God at Sunday Mass. He brought to the ears of those gathered, the consoling and life changing message of Christ. “The Word of the Lord”, he said, and the response was swift and sincere “Thanks be to God.” Dolores’ memory was in his heart, her example along with the lived faith of his father, found a place in his Soul too. Collette’s shared journey in the womb, continued to have its voice. I’ve no doubt his aunt Sr Eva, played her part too. Indeed as nephew he knew what it was to be given good example and that he passed on too, to his own nephews and nieces and Godchildren, never forgetting them, their birthdays or important moments in life. I believe much of this is linked with his faith and our hope today is that faith sustained him at that final moment as he closed his eyes on this world and that the Lord recognised in him, the small boy scoring the goal in the U-14 final and the man who did so much for so many.
That brings us to the fourth and final circle – the Gardaí. I think none of us could be but impressed at the funeral we witnessed in this town. There was a solidarity that filled the air. It spoke to us of loyalty, courage, dignity and a passion for peace. As one, we stood and watched, as Colm’s colleagues and friends bade farewell to one who clearly played a huge part in their lives. I walked into the Garda Station in Ballaghaderreen one of those evenings and met one of Colm’s closest friends there. He was devastated. He asked me to come in for a minute and I walked into a small kitchen where several of Colm’s colleagues from other stations and districts sat around, numbed and broken. Their vulnerability, their humanity spoke to me in a way, that in all fairness I may never have seen before. I had a total sense of Colm’s place in their “circle” and that a crucial part of their lives had been taken away in a moment of total senselessness. Like so many others, I wondered why and like so many others no answer came. But what I can say today, especially to Colm’s colleagues, is that you did him proud. Even though, stretched in death, his uniform wrapped the man he was and he stood strong and dignified among his own.
The Audi is a confident car, stylish too and maybe that is where we leave this. As we stand on the ground where he stood, as we gather in the town where he lived, as we reach out to his family in prayer and sympathy, as we celebrate his life – we acknowledge a man of confidence, a man of style.
May he rest in peace. Amen.
From a Holy Hour this evening in Kilmovee Parish, reflecting on the role of Mary Magdalene on her Feast Day.
Realised that I have not put anything here in a while so to start the journey again! So including here the few words from yesterday’s Mass in Kilmovee and, below, a tune!
Sunday June 14th was the 33rd Anniversary of my ordination. Last year, I wrote a “letter to my 24 year old self” and posted it on this blog. Yesterday, I looked at it again, shortened it here and there and posted to our Parish Facebook Page. Thought I might include here again. Thanks to all who have been so kind and supportive to me through the years. You are remembered, prayed for an not taken for granted.
