Certainly there's scarcely a school or church in the country that hasn't been transformed into the Bethlehem Stable or soon will be. It's the time for Nativity Plays and nobody better to tell the story than the children of our local parishes and schools. I'm reminded of an old film "The Bells of St Mary's" and a wonderful rehearsal for one such performance ...
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fA-3y0qz0MA&w=420&h=315]
I think he’s got it right!!
I watched Michael McIntyre earlier and thought this piece was class!! The strange thing is most of the drawers in my house seem to fit this category!! “The man drawer”
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgUpDGAIdds?rel=0]
And this one from Rhod Gilbert is good too … Go on, it’s not a mighty evening, take a few minutes and smile.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OISGykO6Z7U?rel=0]
and a bit more from Michael ….
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvi0ZLEHj3A?rel=0]
An old friend – well sort of a friend – arrived yesterday. I had no idea he was coming to visit and went to bed on Sunday night, not even giving a thought to him, never mind the possibility that he was en route to my door. As I stood on the square in Ballaghaderreen to welcome home the County Champions, he could not have been further from my mind. Now, I’m wondering, was he somewhere in the crowd …..
Cousins met ….
Can’t be sure when he arrived. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s a he, don’t know why I assume it’s male – just seems as if it might be! Anyway, not sure when he arrived – all I know is that he was there when I awoke yesterday morning. You see, I had planned on going to Dublin to visit my cousin Mary, her husband Gord and their almost six month old daughter, Lauren. They’re home from Canada and I had said I’d try to meet them when they were home. I also offered to bring a student friend back to college since I was heading to Dublin. That was the plan for Monday and it happened, more or less, like that apart from the arrival of the unexpected and, yes, uninvited visitor. I’ll not call him a guest and would be as happy, truth told, were he not a visitor.
It’s not the first time he arrived like that. Set up house and seemed ready to settle in for a few days. I like to think I’m a welcoming sort but there are times when it’s just too much. As I said, I don’t know what time he arrived but I know for sure he was there yesterday morning before 7am!
Yes, he came to Dublin with me – thankfully didn’t make his presence overly felt when I met my cousins and had lunch with them. As for the journey home? He became more overpowering and my resentment intensified. I literally became tired and had to pull the car in on the side of the road at Tarmonbarry football pitch to try to clear my head and get a bit of rest. He just would not give up …. Half an hour there seemed to help and I headed home. I’d have given anything to open the door and let him out but I’d not willingly inflict him on anyone else.
Back in Kilmovee he took control. I went to a meeting but couldn’t wait for it to be over since he was talking out of place and drowning my own voice to the point where I hardly recognised the words coming from my mouth. He pounded at my chest and seemed determined to stay with me on his terms.
Sleep? Not really he made his presence felt many times through the night and was there again, bright eyed and confident as I met this morning. I went down to the church for Mass. There were a few there and we prayed together but I couldn’t find a voice to sing (I’m sure some were glad of that 🙂 )
I told them at the end of Mass that he’d arrived and I wasn’t sure how long he’d stay. I didn’t want to annoy him by saying “hopefully hours rather than days” ….
Yes, Sherlock has a cold!!!
The priests of our diocese have been gathering for a bit of reflection and discussion. Earlier I led a short time of prayer in preparation for our first session of the day on the theme of “The Vocation of the Priest Presider” and was reminded of a poem I read a number of years ago, written by John Shea and featured in his book “The Hour of The Unexpected”. The piece is called “The Prayer of The Holy Sacrifice of The Mass” and I shared it with the others. Thought I might share it with you too …..
“The Prayer of Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.”
Those who do not believe in a Higher Harmony
will balk when told an accident crunched
in the parking lot at the very moment
the altar boy’s nose began to bleed.
He bled on the surplice, the cassock,
the candle, the other altar boy,
and the priest’s unlaced shoe
which bulgingly carried an Ace bandaged ankle.
The priest was stuffing a purificator up the boy’s nose,
damning the blood into his eyeballs,
when the lector asked “how do you pronounce E-I-i-s-h-a?”
and the organist pounded the entrance “Praise to the Lord.”
They processed.
The bleeding, the halt, and the mute unto the altar of God.
Saturday was late and liquored
and delivered God’s people,
sunglassed and slumping, to the epilogue
of weekend life, the Gothic Church.
They were not the community of liberal theology
nor the scrubbed inhabitants of filmstrips.
They were one endless face
and that face was asleep.
“May the grace of our Lord …
A hungry pause for repentance. A quick feast of sins.
The lector murdered the prophets once again
and bypassed the section where a certain E-I-i-s-h-a
was having prophetic truck with a widow.
The homily parlayed a fairly clear gospel
(you are either with me or against me)
into sentences of vacillation and paragraphs of double-think.
The priest ran to the Creed for refuge
only to find a special creed
was prepared for this morning’s liturgy by Mrs. Zardek
“I believe in butterflies and the breath of …”
The courage of the president of the liturgical assembly
drained into the bolt holes of communion rail days.
The offertory gifts never made it.
They were dropped by an elderly couple
(“We never liked the new Mass anyway.”)
who collided with a small but speedy child
whose highheeled mother was in klicky-klack pursuit
and whose name was “Rodgercomeback.”
The consecration was consistent.
The priest lifted the host
and said “This is my blood.”
Instantly aware of his eucharistic goof
but also momentarily in the grip of a bizarre logic
he changed the wine into Jesus’ body.
Then with his whole mind, heart, and soul
he genuflected to a mystery which masks itself as mistake
and a power which perfects itself in weakness.
(John Shea, The Hour of the Unexpected. Niles, IL: Argus communication, 1977)
Met some cousins earlier for dinner. Their dog wandered into the other room and later we found him like this!! He seems at home so thought if he decided to check my blog he might enjoy seeing himself!! Welcome anytime, Marley:)
Not a mouse in sight …
