by Vincent | Mar 16, 2016 | Reflections, Lent 2016
If it’s okay, I’m going to revisit and old post from a few years ago. It was a reflection on priesthood. At present we have no student for the priesthood in our diocese and have had one ordination, for the diocese, in thirteen years. On the eve of St Patrick’s Day, I’m wondering will the “voice (and ears) of the Irish” hear the “VOICE OF GOD” and respond to His call. Anyway, what follows hopefully says a bit around my own thoughts. Thanks for your patience. Stats tell me over 100 people a day are visiting this site, fewer than that, looking at the reflections so I’m not sure who’s reading or why but I am thankful to you …. God Bless! V
I was ordained in St. Patrick’s Church, Gurteen. From time to time I look at a video taken that day. Such changes have taken place. Many of them irreversible. People close to me who attended that day have died. Others for one reason or another weren’t there and it can never happen again. Certainly there are people I wish were there. (My parents have both died since I wrote this piece, R.I.P.) The video reminds me of how happy my mother was that day. Like me, with me and for me, she looked forward to it. My father said, with deep emotion welled in his throat “this is my happiest day ever”. I’m glad I gave him that. Certainly he always did his best for me. My brothers too, and family were with me and still are. Don’t always have the contact I’d like with all my nephews and nieces who were just babes in arms that day. Some of them weren’t born the day I was ordained but are a very central part of my life.
The video brought back faces of priests in our parish at the time – all dead now – Canon Paddy Towey, Fr James Flannery, Fr Charlie Doherty. Other men who were part of my life and regular visitors to the garage and kitchen at home, where coming to get the car serviced was often more social than mechanical! Dudley Filan, Martin McManus, Bishop Fergus, Michael Giblin, Gerry Horan (knew him first as a solicitor and then as a classmate in Maynooth – ordained Easter Sunday 2007), Francy Cawley, Dermot Nash – they, and so many more, gone to their Eternal Reward.
Gone too my Godfather and uncle John who said he was there for my baptism, Communion and Confirmation – seeing to it they were all properly done “You’ll agree”, he said “he’s now properly ordained too”. Mai Callaghan – my Godmother. Alfie and Mel Gallagher. My cousin Kathleen “Feather” Gallagher, Gerry Dwyer and so many others. May they rest in peace.
Gone too, my hair! Added weight and years make me wonder who’s the man in the video?? Gone too, perhaps saddest of all – some of the joy that was around priesthood. It’s not that I’m not joyful but things have changed so much. Paddy Towey spoke of there being more rejoicing in Heaven over ninety-nine ordinations than one and hoped there would be others. John Geelan was ordained a year later – my Cloonloo neighbour – Oliver McDonagh, another Cloonloo man was ordained the week before me. (Sadly Oliver died in January 2010 after a brave battle with illness, may he rest in peace.) Gerry Horan – the retired solicitor and widower from Mullaghroe was ordained a few months before us both. Four men from within a stone’s throw of each other ordained within months and none since. There was rejoicing in Gurteen, Cloonloo, Mullaghroe and Moygara – not ninety-nine admittedly but four. Why did the rejoicing stop? Paddy Towey’s prayer – what happened it?
I became a priest because I thought it was the best I could do with my life and somewhere, though there was never a dazzling light or booming voice, I felt God wanted me to do this. There were priests I admired who seemed to be good and decent people, well rounded, balanced, focused and at ease. To be like them seemed a not unattractive life choice. People like Charlie Doherty in Cloonloo, Tommy Johnston, Greg Hannan, Pat Lynch, Martin Jennings, Jimmy Colleran, Jim Finan – all in St. Nathy’s – Michael Giblin, Dudley Filan, John Walsh, John Doherty, Frank Gallagher and many more spoke to me of priesthood without ever saying a word. There was much to look up to and much to imitate. Didn’t Jesus say “do this in memory of me”?
Have I encouraged anyone to become a priest? Seemingly not. What am I missing? I really don’t know. Priesthood isn’t that attractive to most people now. There has been so much change through the years and of course priesthood became tragically and undeniably entangled in scandal and betrayal. Yet there were all the while, mighty priests – good men, decent men, rounded men. Good priests.
Have I been a good priest? I’ve tried. Not without failure or uncertainty and I know I’ve hurt people along the way. Never intentionally. I can honestly say that. I remember once visiting a dying priest who asked me for my blessing and I felt so guilty blessing him since, even in illness, he was a stronger and better priest than I and yet I blessed him. It was my calling to offer a blessing to a dying man. Even if worthiness wasn’t uppermost in my mind, God, I believe, would have wanted me to make the Sign of Calvary and offer the fullness of Paradise to one nearing his end.
I’ve tried to be a good priest – tried with varying degrees of success and failure but I’m glad to be a priest, even if I don’t always fully understand what it’s all about. Like I wish my mother and father hadn’t aged (and died) – like I wish I could talk to them both today, like I wish many of the absent friends weren’t absent with the passing of time, I wish I had done some things better, left others undone, prayed more, learned more, being more – but that’s all wishful thinking, reality is reality. There are many things in life – in priesthood – over which we are powerless. There are things we’d love to be different but their moment for being different may well have passed. Acceptance of reality, even flawed and frail reality may be as good as it can get.
I have met many people through priesthood and the vast majority of them enriched my life so much. Thankfully many of them became and remain my friends. I’ve had the chance to laugh with people and cry with people. The chance to celebrate and sympathise. The opportunity to teach and to learn. To heal and be healed. To forgive and be forgiven.
For now, almost twenty-nine years on, I’m glad to be a priest. I’d love if my gladness were evident enough to encourage someone to make Paddy Towey’s prayer – his wish and the need of our time – come through!
by Vincent | Mar 17, 2015 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion, Stations of The Cross
We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you. Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
Was it the sound of their weeping that caught his attention? Doubtful. He knew they were there for they always were – the women – following, supporting, listening, responding, encouraging and loving. He numbered many of them among his friends and, following the resurrection. they were among the first to whom he appeared.
One of the criticisms leveled against our church is its apparent lack of placement of women in key roles of the church. Indeed, on that very memorable night that saw the election of Pope Francis, this was once again very much in the spotlight. No women were seen on the balcony when Francis was announced. This is a fact and maybe one we do well not to ignore. On St Peter’s Square there were countless women. Some of them, like those found in this Station, crying – though tears of happiness as Francis found his voice and wished them and all of us a “Good Evening”. They are always there in terms of church and, many of them, are the backbone of parish life and church groups and leaders of prayer …. there place is so central.
Is this a station about “women’s rights” or the ordination of women? I don’t think so. It is a station that speaks to all of us about the centrality of women in our lives and church. It’s not a station about control or equality – at least I don’t think it is – but it is one about recognition and acknowledgment. It is one about listening and responding and it is one about shared space and vision. It is about Christ turning his gaze in the direction of a group of women who understood what was going on and wanted to show support.
The women in this station draw close to the suffering Christ. They teach us how to respond to cruelty and wrongdoing in the only way that is appropriate and natural – through our tears. We MUST be moved to tears when we see suffering. We must also recognise the place – the entitlement of these women’s offspring to have their place – not just on the side of the road of “The Way of The Cross” but on the balcony … and ordination is not the essential ingredient – that central ingredient is their presence. That’s what Jesus noticed as he neared Calvary – not that they were or were not Ministers of Religion but that they were “there” and that they cared ….
Oh, that today we would listen to his voice, let us harden not our hearts.
by Vincent | Aug 10, 2014 | General Interest, Reflections, Songs, Video Clips
I love this song! Mary Black does a fine job but thought I’d include the Sligo Man! I am never fully sure what the first verses refers to but think the second verse is class
For all of you must discover
for all who seek to understand
for having left the path of others
you find a very special hand
and it is a holy thing
and it is a precious time
and it is the only way
forget-me-nots among the snows
it’s always been and so it goes
to ponder His death and
His life eternally ….
Jimmy MacCarthy wrote this song and I’m told was never forthcoming about its meaning. He seemed to want people to take their own meaning from it. I always felt the verse above and the closing lines refer to Christ. Recently I heard Jimmy interviewed on a morning radio show and when asked directly if the song was about faith he replied “I have never had any difficulties with the faith”. I thought it a powerful reply. He wasn’t, I imagine saying he never had questions about it but that it had remained with him through his life. How refreshing to hear someone say that.
This notion of “leaving the path of others” seems very at home in today’s Gospel passage when Peter asks Jesus to call him from the boat and to walk towards him on the water. “Come”, replied Jesus. Peter left the boat – the path of others – but quickly lost faith and hope and became fear-filled. “Help me”, he cried. Jesus offered him that “very special hand” and stabilized him again. “Why did you doubt?”
The “boat” we are told, when mentioned in Scripture, refers to the Church. In this gospel the “church” is battling with stormy waters and heavy winds. It is thrown from side to side and its occupants are full of fear. How close we might feel to that image at this time. Our Church too continues to battle with heavy winds and swollen waters. In parts of our world, this is certainly the case today. Into all of this walks Jesus, seeking to bring calm with every step on troubled waters. Often we don’t seem to see or hear him though.
With Peter then, maybe it’s a day to call out to him – to ask him to draw us closer to him, to move towards him. Even if we feel we are sinking, an outstretched arm and a cry for help is enough. He will not let us sink. Stepping into our church, being allowed and welcomed into our circle of existence, can only bring calm. “It’s always been and still it goes ….”
(On Good Friday, I used these lines in Urlaur Church at the Stations of The Cross. I made a little recording that I had posted on the blog but forgotten about til now so am going to share here as well!)
by Vincent | Jul 2, 2013 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion, Songs, Video Clips
I’m not sure how I happened on this video today. I think I was searching for a tune and it led me to this clip from The Corrs … mighty rhythm and music ….
[youtube=http://youtu.be/KEJa_VgpIAc?rel=0]
that reminded me of Gay Byrne’s interview with Andrea Corr on “The Meaning of Life” so another search brought this …. very good interview with what seems to be a lovely person …
[youtube=http://youtu.be/wUicDKM80oU?rel=0]
and then there’s this … (haven’t looked at it but will at some stage – a concert ….)
[youtube=http://youtu.be/1ov6USLXwGA?rel=0]
by Vincent | Apr 28, 2012 | General Interest, Reflections, Parish and Diocese, Religion
This weekend we celebrate Vocations Sunday and, in word and prayer, seek to encourage people to consider the possibility of a vocation to the priesthood or religious life. On Holy Thursday, at our Chrism Mass, I was asked to prepare a Post Communion Reflection so thought I might share here the words I used that day.
Lord, from the earliest days of your public ministry, you involved yourself in the needs of all you met.
You were with your people from the turning of poured water into wine to the pouring of your own blood mixed with Cana’s water on the cross. Some people were spoken for “they have no wine” and others found their own voice; “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”. For some the request for healing was instant and others, like the prodigal son, had to be given time to “come to their senses”. Always though, you were there for people and with people.
Likewise, you remain with us; standing together as Diocese today. We praise your presence in our midst. As people and priests, young and old, strong and infirm, healthy and weak, enthusiastic and tired, faith-filled and searching, we take the message of this day to our hearts. Oils blessed and consecrated. Lives consecrated and renewed – people, united in prayer – we take it all in Lord and offer what we have to you, that you may take it, shape it, renew and rebuild it, so that our diocese and its people live the Gospel message.
The priest in us says “yes” again to your call. Yes to its uncertainties and tensions and yes to its glorious opportunities to be something of your presence to those who seek a voice and have a voice. Yes to its call to bring these oils from their silver containers to the parishes and people of our diocese with the enduring promise of hope and companionship in the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Holy Orders and of life Eternal in the Sacrament of the Sick. To the brokenness of bread and the bitter-sweetness of chalice blood we commit ourselves as well. We offer our voices and our hearing, our good days and our bad that they may be rooted in Holy Thursday, remain loyal through Good Friday and proclaim the good news that “he is risen” on Easter Sunday and beyond.
As Church; lay, religious and ordained, we dedicate our “yes” to you this day: the “yes” of parents towards the shaping and loving of a new generation, the “yes” of a whispered rosary, a lighted candle in an early morning chapel; the “yes” of tending to the sick and infirm; the “yes” of Amen to Eucharist. We dedicate as well the “yes” of the many reluctant but necessary yeses that see Simons and Veronicas step forward from the crowd. We have the “yes” in us, Lord and we offer it to you for it is only in you and through you its potential can be reached.
Remain with us Lord. You know that we know that we need you.
Amen!
