by Vincent | Feb 23, 2015 | General Interest, Reflections, Parish and Diocese, Religion
On Sunday, February 22nd 2015, I celebrated a Funeral Mass in Monasteraden. The Mass was for Mary Corcoran who had died a few days earlier. I’ve known Mary all my life and came to know her very well during the years I worked in Ballaghaderreen Parish where I had special care for the Monasteraden area of the parish. Mary played the organ in the church and had an involvement in the choir for something in the region of eighty years – from her childhood days. Her commitment was remarkable. I was asked to be Principal Celebrant at her Funeral Mass and was honoured to accept that invitation and thankful to the priests of the parish and others who joined with me for the Mass – not least Fr James Sharkey, SPS, a cousin and lifelong friend of Mary. I am going to share here the words used at Sunday’s Mass. I know Mary read this blog and I hope she approves of the inclusion of these words in her memory. In so doing, I offer my renewed sympathy to her son Michéal, daughters Noreen and Marie, to her sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, her grandchildren and Mary’s neighbours and friends. I remember too, her son Philip, R.I.P. who died in June 2012.
Mary Corcoran died! I think that’s what she’d expect me to say today. Not so sure she’d talk about having “passed” or “slipped away” – no she’d say “died”, “dead” …. I remember writing in August 2009 “my mother died” – they were three words with just twelve letters but the brevity of their content didn’t reflect the enormity of their significance. No less so for Mary’s children and their families here today. This is a life-changing moment. I don’t think she’d want it sugar coated or downplayed. We are here because Mary Corcoran died.
And here we are! We gather to say our prayers – with face to the Altar and back to the gallery. Both places of huge significance for Mary. It was at this Altar she was baptized, received Eucharist for the first time, stood beside Billy as vows were exchanged, brought her four for baptism, bade farewell to Philip – here she found strength for the journey, the faith to carry on and the gift to believe. It’s certain this is where she wants to be right now – placed at the foot of this Altar so that prayers can be offered, memories evoked and thanks can be said.
The gallery too, in full voice and sound today re-echoes her countless notes played and sung in praise of his name. The twelve letters I wrote in August 2009 and the eight notes of the octave, have in common the ability to take us elsewhere. A church without music is an impoverished church. A liturgy without music, though remaining liturgy, lacks a central element. Mary ensured that was not to be the story in Monasteraden. Faithfully she climbed those steps, turned on the music, shared the notes and encouraged song. She walked up and, I believe backed down but between the walking and the backing she made music happen and this church has been the better of that. It’s great to hear that sound here again today. Long, long may it be heard when “two or three” gather in His name!
I read somewhere during the week “Repent, so that the preacher doesn’t have to tell lies at your funeral”!! I’m not here to tell lies. I believe Mary Corcoran was a good woman. Direct! For sure!! More than once she let me know when I got it wrong but many times more than once she let me know when I got it right! She had a directness that was rooted in love of place and was always well intentioned. She did not like to see anything diminish the place and “people make places” so, in many ways, she didn’t like anything that diminished people – her people (family), neighbours and the Church. There’s a line in Scripture that speaks of “Zeal for your house consumes me” and I think it’s a line that ran deep in the veins of Mary. We need people like that and we’re impoverished without them.
So here we are, in this Gospel moment – a meal has just been shared and the penny has dropped. These two men have been walking the road and sharing a meal with Jesus. It’s when he’s gone the fullness of that reality dawns. We sometimes refer to this Gospel passage as the “Road to Emmaus”. Lately I’ve been thinking of it more in terms of the Road from Emmaus. The road to it is one thing but the road from it another. Where do we go when the truth has dawned? What do we do with and about that truth? The men in the story re-traced their journey and told their story to those to whom they felt it would make difference so that they could tell it to others.
I think that’s where we are now! Mary lived for almost ninety years. She travelled but most of her travelling was local. Walking, cycling or driving – her destination was quite often where we now gather – St Aidan’s Church. She rejoiced with people on happy days and shared their grief on days of sadness. She brought her family here and taught them how to pray. She heard hymns she liked and took them to the gallery (the odd song too!! “Isle of Inisfree!”). She lit candles in the quietness of this Sacred Space and, in their flicker, remembered the dead and the living (I’m humbled to say, me among them). She remained faithful when many, for a variety of reasons, walked away from Faith and practice. This is where we are. Mary’s road to Emmaus led her to encounter and recognise the Lord, even in the darkness of her son’s illness and death and to find strength for the journey.
Where to for her son, daughters and their families today? Where to for the choir? Where to for neighbours and friends? Where to for all of us from this moment? We can’t be sure where the road will take us but we can be sure we’ll not walk it alone. Let all that was good in Mary be recalled? Let the Faith loved by Mary be lived and let the song sung by Mary lead us to the chorus:
“With him, I am risen” …. May she rest in peace. Amen.
Mary Corcoran, R.I.P.
by Vincent | Jun 18, 2014 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion
The past few days I have been in Dalgan Park, Navan, Co. Meath. It is the home of the Columban Missionaries. A fine facility, set on spectacular grounds it is home to many events, including Diocesan Priests’ Retreats. It is to that end, I am here, with the priests and bishop of the Diocese of Ardagh and Clonmacnois. The days have passed quickly and, thank God, gone well. It’s always good to meet with priests like this and to hear some of their stories – humorous and otherwise. I’m lucky to be able to do this.
The weather has been fantastic and the heat almost unbearable but a welcome change to winds and rain. I walked a bit – though not as much as I could have or should have but that’s another story.
The cemetery here is amazing. It is so well maintained and a sacred piece of God’s earth. God rest all buried here – included among them Fr Frank Gallagher, an old family friend, who died in 2010 after more than seventy years of priesthood.
I heard in my youth that Fr Frank had been subjected to some tragic torture and treatment during his Missionary Days in Korea. I never heard that from Frank, since he did not speak about this time but it seems certain that there’s truth in it.
Earlier today I spent a bit of time in the main chapel here in Dalgan Park and there’s a collection of pictures on the back wall, twenty-four in all, of members of the Columban Society who lost their lives tragically in the course of their “journeying for the Lord”. Twenty-three of them are priests and one a sister. May God rest their souls. They are not buried in Dalgan, most of them are buried where they were killed and for some, to this day, the whereabouts of their bodies is unknown. It was humbling to look at these faces – most of them very young – and to realise how much they were prepared to give.
Fr Frank Gallagher lays hands on me the day of my ordination in St Patrick’s Church, Gurteen, June 1987
I took photos of the photos. They’re not great quality but it’s my way of taking them home with me and, more than that, sharing them and their Ministry with you. (If you click on an image you will have the option of viewing in larger format and the captions will be more easily read.)
Further information available on the Columban Website
![Philip Corcoran R.I.P. Funeral Homily]()
by Vincent | Jun 10, 2012 | Reflections, Religion
Memory Card by Philip’s Family
I celebrated Mass on Saturday June 9th, with a number of other priests and a packed church in Monasteraden to pray for Philip Corcoran who died earlier in the week and to offer some little consolation to his wife, daughters, mother, brother, sisters, their families and Philip’s many friends from home, Lettekenny, Belmullet, Blacksod and many other places who were present. The music was lovely, provided by Maureen O’Dowd, John Dwyer and Barry Flannery. Steve Wickham (Waterboys) also joined in. Philip’s daughters read from Scripture with a conviction that was heart warming and uplifting. His family and friends were hugely involved in the Liturgy and, I think it fair to say, he himself was the author of much of what took place. I tried to say that at the beginning of the Mass – that in a time when Faith may be questioned, even abandoned by some, Philip’s adherence to it and the comfort received from it, spoke volumes.
I know that Philip read this blog – he even shared some of its content with friends – and I know that Anne Marie and her daughters check in from time to time. So also, members of Philip’s Sligo family. I told Anne Marie I’d try to put the words shared today here and she said “I’d like that”. So, with her blessing and in memory of Philip, I will try to recall the words spoken. They might not be exactly as used today – maybe a bit added or a bit missing – but I think the overall message will remain.
When we were in Maynooth there was a man there known as “Professor Xerox” as he used look after photocopying for staff and students. He was a holy and devout man who, later in life, became a priest. There was a concert one time in the college and one of the sketches involved a student dressing as Paddy but in female form! He was being interviewed about the fact that he had been voted “Miss Universal Xerox” for 1930, 1931 and 1933 – The interviewer asked what happened in 1932 to which Paddy’s character replied “I didn’t enter that year. That was the year of the Eucharistic Congress”!! So it was and so it is again in 2012.
The Eucharistic Congress focuses attention on the Body of Christ, broken and glorified. That body was broken also in Philip’s illness and so too the glory of God was clearly visible to all who journeyed with Philip over the past two years and more. In his brokenness he revealed his Faith with a gentle reassurance that he was not alone. Body broken and glorified, Eucharistic Congress.
There will be moments during the week when the Blessed Sacrament will be adored and honoured as it is carried aloft or placed in an adoration space in the Monstrance. It strikes me there was such a procession yesterday as Phil’s funeral traced its way from Letterkenny to Monasteraden. Along the way, I have no doubt many cars slowed down or pulled in to allow the funeral pass. Strangers blessed themselves along the way and, in the blessing, a prayer was offered for the one in the coffin and those in the cars following. Respect, reverence for the Body of Christ. The hearse was driven back to Lettekenny last night – a Mayo hearse will take him the rest of his journey today – and that hearse going home last night was just another car on the road. No reverence required – no longer a procession, no longer giving witness to the life and death of one who mattered much.
Philip’s body was truly broken through Motor Neurone Disease but in that brokenness he displayed an inner strength and glory that, I suspect, even those closest to him may not have fully recognised or identified before. Anne Marie, with her daughters Leigh Ann and Ciara, carried that body with Eucharistic reverence, so too Mary “his mother”, Michéal his brother and his sisters Marie and Noreen. That reverential carrying was also taken care of by the Monaghan family, the many friends and colleagues of Philip and the staff in the Hospice and hospitals that attended to Philip’s needs. Equally all of you who offered a quiet prayer, lit a candle or cried a tear in his name – saddened by his illness and feeling sorrow for his family. This too is Eucharistic Congress!
The Gospel found its voice too during Philip’s illness. Those words written on whiteboard, in emails and texts and latterly on the iPad were truly made sacred since each word was a labour, each letter carefully selected to relay a message that was important and needed to be remembered. He put everything he had by way of intellect and intent into each word and, I think, this calls us to a respect for the spoken and written word. It calls us to a reverence for words and a determination not to cheapen them through carelessness. Words can be cheapened at times by loose talk about people, hard words etc. Philip reminds us of the sacredness of words, the gift that is words and, as such, the need for lasting respect and reverence. Philip’s determination to express his thoughts and wishes is echoed in the Gospel where the Lord too, poured all he was into every word to leave us a lasting message around which to map our journey.
Today’s piece of that Gospel story takes us to the days following Jesus’ death. The apostles are at a loss and feel they can go back to where they were. “I’m going fishing”, said Peter and the others replied “We’ll come with you”. They thought they could go back to where they were but in reality they couldn’t. Life would never be the same again. Neither will it be the same for you Anne Marie or for your girls. Neither will it be the same for Philip’s mother, brother or sisters. There’s no point in saying it will. Life will never be the same again and yet, there may well be a real need to go back to what you were doing. Back to being a nurse, a student, a lover of diving – all those things you did before. You may need, you DO need to get back to them. Into them will come Jesus, just as surely as he came into this Gospel moment. He will bring his own healing at his own time. He will reveal himself to you in the doing of the ordinary. They ultimately recognised him in the breaking of bread – the third revelation of himself after “rising from the dead”. “Have you caught anything friends?” – he met them where they were and in the emptiness of their nets they found him again and found his peace – their peace and direction.
Philip too will reveal himself to you all. In a word, a song, a joke, a memory. In a sunrise near Faulmore or Blacksod, a swan on Lough Gara or maybe a nurse’s uniform in Letterkenny. These moments come. I went home last night to our house. I don’t go there much anymore since my parents died. I wanted to get the vestment I wore on my Ordination Day. It’s been hanging in the wardrobe in my old bedroom. The house was empty but as I put my foot on the first step of the stairs I heard my mother say “Vincent, is that you?” I didn’t hear a voice thundering through the house. It was in my head but very real. The tone was hers and, in that tone, she lived again. She revealed herself to me and I knew she is part of all that’s going on in my life. I’m certain there will be moments like that for all of you too. Philip spoke to me in a recent text of possible sound of “footsteps on a distant shore”. These sounds are there and through them and in many ways, he will let you know he is part of your lives.
I have known Philip all my life, I suppose, but it’s only in the past few months I really got to know him. It has been a privilege and a very humbling experience. Much of what I might talk about, as priest, he lived before my eyes – before our eyes and I’m glad to have shared something of that. I was glad too, to be with you the other night in the Hospice. They are amazing places – blessed places and though you gave him hospice in his own kitchen at home, the time had come for that extra bit of help. It was great to see so many of you there with him. What a way to die, surrounded by those loved most and who love you most. Think of Syria, a village like ours being sealed off and people literally massacred. What an awful experience – no love, dignity or respect. Contrast that with Philip and the care you gave him. I saw you, Ciara, moisten his lips. I saw you all reach out to him and he knew that touch. What a consolation you were to him. He died at peace. May he continue to rest in that peace.
I am convinced Christ was present among you and present to Philip when most needed.
![Philip Corcoran R.I.P. Funeral Homily]()
by Vincent | Mar 30, 2012 | General Interest, Reflections, Religion
I am just home from the Funeral Mass for Felicity MacDermot. It was celebrated in St Aidan’s Church, Monasteraden and a large congregation was present, Concelebrants included Bishop Thomas Flynn, (Bishop Emeritus of Achonry), Monsignor John Doherty (formerly served in Monasteraden and in the Cathedral as Curate and Administrator), Fr Dan O’Mahony, Cloonacool and the two serving priests in Ballaghaderreen Parish (of which Monasteraden in a part), Fr Joseph Gavigan and Fr Martin Henry. I had been asked a few weeks ago to celebrate the Mass in the event of Felicity’s death and was honoured to do so.
Many of Felicity’s family and friends took part in the Liturgy and were involved in reading from the Scriptures, bringing forward the offertory gifts (including a Bible that belonged to her late husband), the Prayers of The Faithful and, her grand-niece Siobhan, assisted with the distribution of Holy Communion. A eulogy was given. The local choir and guests provided the music. The Principal Teacher in the local primary school, Ms Ann Moriarty, played a solo violin piece “Miss MacDermot” by O’Carolan.
Below are the words shared during the homily at the Mass – the Gospel text was the story of the Annunciation.
I can’t pretend today to know much about the history of Felicity’s life. That is not her fault for, on occasion, she’d tell me something about her father and mother or her native place. She’d tell me things about Monasteraden and Coolavin, about reliquaries and relics, about former bishops of Achonry and priests who stood where I stood before me. She had, of course, a purpose in her telling since she valued words a great deal and was agile in their usage and careful in their allotment! Fewer was often better but the intention was to get a message across. The fact that I can’t go into detail reflects more on the hearer than the speaker. That said, I enjoyed listening to her and, truth told, valued what I heard. It’s just that history, like many other things, isn’t one of my strong points. Felicity valued the message – the story received, lived and shaped, and to be passed on. To that end, her nephews and nieces were and remain a central part of her life. For the story of your family, heard by her, lived and shaped by her, is today left at your feet, embedded in your hearts that you too may take it, shape it and pass it on. Of this, I’m sure – she’d want nothing less and ask nothing more.
Death came to Felicity on Monday morning, March 26th and given that March 25th fell on a Sunday this year, the celebration of the Solemnity of the Annunciation was transferred to the Monday. She died on the day the Church celebrated Mary’s “Yes”. It was a difficult yes, insofar as it meant change of a life plan, the risk of wagging tongues and the uncertainty of motherhood at a young age. Mary found that “yes” nonetheless and, having found it, never went back. It was a yes to the unknown that is rooted in Faith. Aware of her Jewish story, Mary knew that the Messiah had to come and that whatever that involved could not and should not be held back. If her part in that “coming”, involved self-sacrifice and uncertainty, then so be it. “Amen – let what you have said, be done”.
There’s one word in that Gospel passage that has struck me this year, possibly in a way it never did before. Might it be something to do with visiting Felicity in hospital and knowing that she couldn’t speak and knowing, that in our communication, there would be no verbal response? I really don’t know. The word I’m thinking of is the word “Listen”! Gabriel used it, in a gentle way, to let Mary know there were words to be spoken and response would be needed. It was, in some ways, a call to reflection. Mary listened, as she often did in the Scriptures, and pondered in her heart. I think it likely there was a fair degree of pondering in Felicity’s life, not least in the past few weeks since the visitation of illness. What did she hear?
She heard of course the voices of doctors and nurses as they tended to her. She heard and recognised the familiar voices of family and friends – neigbours from Monasteraden – and all who called to see her. She responded, to the end, with a beaming smile. She heard prayers being offered, “This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world ….. “, she heard the great words of absolution “through the ministry of the church may he grant you pardon and peace …” she heard other patients and their visitors. She listened, reflected and, I feel certain, responded. There was, I’m sure, a smile here – a tear there – but always response.
How can I be so sure she “listened”? I think it’s something to do with the fact she always seemed to listen to the goings on around her, read what we call “the signs of the times” and respond. In recent days I came across a number of letters she wrote to the national newspapers, especially the Irish Times and Irish Independent. The topics were varied – wondering why the government was seeking tenders, from other countries, for the construction of polling booths for elections. She suggested children in woodwork classes or those on FÁS training programmes could easily make these but wondered if this solution were “too simple”? I’d say she felt Clogher Hall could produce as good a polling booth as Copenhagen! Another spoke about Bishop Eamonn Casey and the endless tirade of articles and comments around his life. She wondered was there any room to acknowledge the good he had done, not least with young emigrants in London? Again, a listening that brought with it a willingness to speak against popular opinion. She had a lovely line about rural transport, in another letter, and about matrons running hospitals in which they also worked. She concluded, “of course that was when we were a people not an economy”. She wrote about seagulls and how she missed their sound when her neighbours cut the silage. For a while she didn’t realise what she was missing in the silence but then it dawned – the gulls were gone. She blamed the mink! Yes, Felicity listened and responded.
Perhaps they’re the two words we might take from her Funeral Mass today – listen and respond. Listen to what’s said, to what’s happening – locally and globally – and respond. She had a lovely way of responding. I remember one Sunday after Mass, she shook my hand in the porch, smiled and said “you’re the third glorious mystery”. I wasn’t expecting that and I think I was at her gate on the way back to Ballagh when I realised it was the “descent of the Holy Spirit”. She was saying to me she heard what I said, felt it was worth saying and wanted me to know that. Yes, she had a lovely way of responding.
I started off by saying I can’t claim much knowledge of Felicity’s history but I have an awareness of her geography. Her geography was rooted in Coolavin, Monasteraden and South Sligo. She loved this place and, of that love, much was born. How many schemes were secured with her signature? How many ideas now clearly visible were born of her imagination? How many dreams, now realised, are the direct fruits of her energy and commitment? We need not travel far, in any direction, from this church to find reminders of her life. Her geography is here. We are the men, women and children of that geography and today – in her memory, we seek to make it our own, to live in it, respect it, be shaped by it, add shape to it and hand it on to those younger and yet to be born. Her Geography was steeped in and enriched by her love for the world, its people and above all its Creator. All of these must be included in our co-ordinates of being as we journey onwards from this moment.
If she thought, even once, that I was the third Glorious mystery – then it’s fair to say she continually spanned the mysteries. There’s a bit of the first Joyful here today – Annunciation, a lot of the second, as she looked out for people in the Visitation and certainly there were many occasions of Presentation in the Temple and Finding in the Temple. Yes, her life dipped into the sorrowful mysteries too – losing her husband over thirty years ago, she carried her cross and I suspect knew moments of pain and sorrow in the garden of life but today there’s a Fourth Glorious mystery to rejoice in and draw comfort from – a moment of Assumption, being brought home and given a well-earned place in God’s presence.
Listen! You have won God’s favour.
May she rest in peace.
by Vincent | Mar 26, 2012 | General Interest
Felicity MacDermot, R.I.P.
7th March 1923-26th March 2012
A few weeks ago I wrote a piece about Felicity MacDermott (Madam MacDermot) to mark her birthday and acknowledge her illness, following a stroke suffered a number of weeks ago. Her earthly journey drew to a close this morning. May she rest in peace. Her funeral will take place in St Aidan’s Church, Monasteraden later in the week.
I just googled Felicity and found a letter she wrote to the Irish Independent in 2007. It appears she had read an article stating the government was seeking tenders throughout Europe for the construction of polling booths. This did not rest easily with her and pen was taken in hand!!
“It is unbelieveable that the Government is advertising all over the EU for people to make polling booths for the next general election (Irish Independent, January 31). Could the deficit not be made locally in each constituency by students in woodwork classes and by FAS training schemes working to a standard pattern? Or would this be too simple?” FELICITY MACDERMOT, BALLAGHADERREEN, CO ROSCOMMON
Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace According to thy word,
For mine eyes have seen thy salvation Which thou hast prepared before the face Of thy people Israel,
To be a light to lighten the Gentiles And to be the glory of thy people Israel.
Glory be to the Father And to the Son and to the Holy Ghost, As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, World without end, Amen.
