Christmas 1981

I remember Christmas 1981. We lived in Rialto, and I was in sixth class in James’s Street CBS. Myself and my brother, Kevin, like a lot of kids, didn’t particularly like going to school and we walked up the old Grand canal extension which served the Guinness Barges. The smell of the hops and barley was pungent in the still foggy air of those dark winter mornings. School children were like shadows emerging from the mist wearing Snorkel Jackets and sporting Man Utd and Liverpool school bags over one shoulder. Corporal punishment was phased out in 1981 and banned by Minister of Education John Boland in 1982. Charlie Haughey’s Fianna Fail were in Government for half the year and Fine Gael and Garret Fitzgerald won the General Election in the summer of ’81. 

In January 1982 a biblical amount of snow fell on Ireland which closed the schools for over a week. Irish life struggled in the snow but we kids were ecstatic. We slid down the hills on plastic sacks and makeshift sleds and threw basins of water over the pathway over night for an ice slide in the morning. Its gas now when I think of it, I worked in schools for 10 years after ordination, and my brother is a School Principal. Who would’ve thought?

On Christmas eve, 1981, Santa brought Kevin a Salter Science set, a Rubick’s Cube and surprises. I was into music and had a turntable and Santa brought me ‘Prince Charming’ by Adam and the Ants and ‘The Visitors’ Abba’s last studio album until ‘The Voyage’ this year. Our Mother and Father were younger then than we are now.

Parents were mighty people that time. We think of the past from the prism of today. Its like we had a smart phone in our hands forever. There was only one telephone in the house and that was on the hall table on the bottom of the stairs. The television was very manual, and you had to get up off the couch to change the nine stations. And at the end of the day, the television closed for the night to the strain of the national anthem. Mam had to save up as both myself and my sister Grainne were making Confirmation and Communion in 1982. There were three younger ones, David, and Aoife and Lorna who were very young. Clodagh didn’t come along till 1985.

Christmas was magical all the same. While we anticipated the visit of Santa, we went to see him in Crumlin Shopping Centre, but Switzer’s was the place to go. I think we still have the ‘I’ve seen Santa at Switzer’s’ badge. On Christmas eve, Santa was in great form, and we provided the TK Red Lemonade and biscuits for himself and a carrot for Rudolph. I’m sure I heard the clatter of hooves on the roofs of Uppercross Road in the still of the night.

We went to Mass on Christmas mornings mostly as midnight Mass was a bit too late for the younger ones. We were all immaculate in our Christmas gear and early in the afternoon it was off to Nana’s and Granny Greta’s for our other pressies. We had our dinner later in the afternoon. To think all six of us were piled into the Mini Traveller, carry cot and all, and off to Nana’s in Donore Ave and then on to Granny Greta’s in Glasnevin.

As a 12-year-old, I didn’t really understand what was going on from a religious point of view. In the church, we visited the crib, and we sang the Christmas carols and hymns. We children adored baby Jesus, his mother Mary, and Joseph. I even played the part of a shepherd in a Nativity play when I was 7. I didn’t fully get the importance of how God became a child and came into the human story but with that childlike innocence we believed. We were moved that for Mary and Joseph, there was no room at the Inn and so they were relegated to a farm stable for animals out of the way and in the background.  I now see how important it is to give time and a chance to those who are marginalised. Pope Francis highlights the plight of migrants and the challenge to welcome them today.

I remember Christmas to be a lovely, kind, generous and holy time. By watching the sacrifices our parents made, their patience, and the example our grandparents gave, it actually brings the Christmas story to life every day of the year. One of the miracles of Christmas is how we learn generosity and kindness from the people who made us what we are. And this is a powerful story of hope which crosses generations.  

Things have changed and we have grown up and my siblings have children of their own. Technology has exploded and the slower world of 1981 has become much faster and much smaller. In 1987 when I joined the order, one of the friars used to wrap Monday’s copy of the Irish Independent and send it out airmail to the Irish Friars in New Zealand so they could read all the news from home and especially the GAA results.  Today, with WhatsApp we can speak to our loved ones in real time on the other side of the world. The Astronauts on the ISS, the size of Croke Park, can communicate with us across all time zones as they orbit the earth at 28 thousand Kilometers per hour.

And now, because the world has become smaller, and intercontinental travel is so easy, disease can move from continent to continent quickly too. Covid 19 has demonstrated this powerfully in the last two years. This microscopic virus, they say which is one five hundredth the size of a full stop has wreaked havoc on our society. God willing, 2022 will see better times for us all. May our scientists, immunologists, virologists, medics, nursing staff, and care staff be safe and successful this coming new year. 

As a child, I didn’t understand how God came down from heaven, and with love came into the human story as a little baby and was born in time. I didn’t understand how Mary and Joseph must have felt. But I believed. I adored baby Jesus in the crib with my brothers and sisters and all my friends. Some don’t go to the church that much anymore and that is sad. I guess it is what it is. But unless one is made of stone, you can’t fail to be moved by the beautiful innocence of a little baby as she or he looks up helplessly at you. Almighty God did that for us. He came down from heaven and was born in poverty as a tiny baby, Jesus. And he welcomes each one of you to the threshold of the crib. And I still don’t fully understand. But I believe.

 

 

 

 

 

Padre Pio and Our Lady

Padre Pio had a great love of and devotion to Our Lady, especially of Our Lady of Graces which the Friary of San Giovanni Rotondo is dedicated to.  He spent long hours in conversation with her and her Divine Son, Jesus. To him, Mary was the best way to approach Jesus and there is no better prayer than the Rosary to connect with her and the mysteries that comes from the life of Christ. You may have heard some of the stories of Padre Pio and his devotion to the Rosary which he called his ‘weapon’. 

Padre Pio always wore the Rosary around his arm at night. A few days before his death, as he was getting into bed, he said to the friars who was in his room, “Give me my weapon!” And the friar, surprised and curious, asked him: “Where is the weapon? We cannot see anything!” Padre Pio replied, “It is in my habit, which you have just hung up!” After having gone through the pockets of his religious habit, the friars said to him: “Padre, there is no weapon in your habit! . . . we can only find your rosary beads there!” Padre Pio immediately said, “And is this not a weapon? . . . the true weapon?!” Padre Pio instructed: “Recite the Rosary and recite it always and as much as you can.” To Padre Onorato Marcucci, grabbing the Rosary that he had just placed on the nightstand he said: “With this, one wins the battles.” He prayed many rosaries each day and people, including friars, were amazed at the number of rosaries he recited. In February 1954, at 9:00 p.m., speaking to Father Carmelo he said: “I still have 2 rosaries to pray today. I said only 34 so far. Then I will go to bed.”

Padre Pio is a saint for our time. He was photographed, he was recorded in film and in voice. I have lived with Capuchin friars who met him personally and recalled to me conversations they had with him. One Friar, Fr. Peter Dempsey, now gone home to God, told me that during WWII when the friars studying in Rome couldn’t travel home, they would be sent to San Giovanni Rotondo or some other Italian friaries. There Fr. Peter, who was a post graduate theology student, would sit beside Padre Pio and he said Padre told him speaking in Italian that he often prayed for the Irish Church and for the great missionary endeavour of the Irish who travelled to distant lands to spread the gospel. 

When we think of saints, naturally we remember the saints our parents introduced us to like Saint Anthony, Saint Therese the little flower, or Saint Francis of Assisi, St. Rita of Cascia etc. Let’s not forget the Saints of Ireland too, and Irish Diocese. Many of these lived centuries ago and perhaps its hard to identify with them today. But remember, Saint John Paul II reminds that we are all called to sanctity. It is the vocation of all of us to aspire to holiness. Pope Emeritus Benedict once said we are not made for comfort, we are made for greatness! Sanctity! But we can identify with saints who lived closer to our time and as we see how they lived, perhaps we can see ourselves that we can do it, we can imitate Christ in our time, in our families, and in our communities. Sanctity is the art of the possible. 

Padre Pio suffered most of his life. He endured misunderstanding for a time while the Holy See investigated the spiritual phenomena associated with his life, yet he remained obedient to the church and the Holy Father throughout. He also suffered because he was famous in a sense. Many people wanted to see him, and to go to confession to him. Often to the point of exhaustion would he have a word of challenge or of encouragement for someone or a prayer for an intention. Again, always with Mary’s rosary between his fingers. 

He bore the stigmata, the bleeding wounds of our Lord on his hands, feet, and on his side for 50 years. The friars and his doctors dressed them daily with a bandage and covered them with a fingerless mitten. The pain was bad enough, and horrific especially on Fridays. But the experience was excruciating and humiliating all the time because he was an object of curiosity. He said himself “I only want to be a poor friar who prays.” 

Padre Pio often suffered from bad health and once about 10 years before he died, he was very ill, and it coincided with the visit of the Pilgrim Statue of Our Lady of Fatima to some diocese in Italy. It wasn’t scheduled to visit San Giovanni at all, instead Our Lady was scheduled to stop in the large city of Foggia. While the friary in San Giovanni Rotondo is within the Foggia diocese, it is a good distance from Foggia.  Padre Pio was severely ill with pleurisy, unable to even celebrate Mass from May 5 let alone go to Foggia. The statue of Our Lady was to arrive at the beginning of August and Padre Pio remained bedridden. Somehow the scheduled got changed. The statue would not go to Foggia now but go to San Giovanni Rotondo instead. Joy filled the air as people gathered by the friary. With the help of a loudspeaker, Padre Pio was able to prepare them for their ‘mother’s’ arrival on August 6. That morning, Padre Pio struggled to get down to the church. He managed to get before the statue of our Lady — “but had to sit down because he was exhausted — and he gave her a gold rosary,” observed Bishop Carta. “The statue was lowered before his face, and he was able to kiss her. It was a most affectionate gesture.”

That same afternoon. Between two and three o’clock, Our Lady of Fatima was again in the helicopter ready to travel to the next stop. Taking off from the Casa for the Relief of the Suffering the helicopter circled three times around the monastery before flying away to its next stop. Afterwards, the pilot could never explain why that circling happened. Bishop Carta described how “From a window Padre Pio watched the helicopter fly away with eyes filled with tears. To our Lady in flight Padre Pio lamented with a confidence that was all his own: ‘My Lady, my mother, you came to Italy, and I got sick, now you are going away, and you leave me still ill.’” But as the helicopter was circling, he felt a shudder, a jolt, through his body. The bishop repeated what Padre Pio would say for the rest of his life: “In that very instant I felt a sort of shudder in my bones which cured me immediately.”

As I said, Padre Pio had a filial devotion to Our Blessed Lady. He was always communicating with her. The main reason is that she it is who brings us to her son Jesus. Mary always points to Jesus. This has always been Mary’s mission; she turns to us, and she says, as she said in few words at the wedding at Cana; “Do whatever he tells you.” 

Our Blessed Lady came here to Knock in 1879, eight years before Padre Pio was born, to bring hope to a suffering people. She came with St. Joseph, and St. John the Evangelist.  On the Altar was the Lamb, the Eucharistic Lord who gave himself totally for us. On that wet August evening, as she appeared to give hope, she also reminded us that her Divine Son, Jesus comes to us bearing the message of eternal life. That night, Mary appeared in silence. She never said a word but as Our Holy Father, Pope Francis, who was here in 2018, and after that elevated Knock Shrine to an International Sanctuary of Special Eucharistic and Marian Devotion said; “…in her apparition at Knock, the virgin says nothing. Yet her silence is a language; indeed, it is the most expressive language we have. The message that comes from Knock is that of the great value of silence for our faith.” 

Padre Pio is with us today. He has been praying to the Blessed Virgin for us during the pandemic. He knows suffering and he helped to build the Casa Sollievo Della Sofferenza. He reminds us today that he continues to pray for us to Our Lady of Knock for all our needs. But he asks us to listen to Mary because in silence she points to Jesus, her Divine Son. Because he alone has the message of eternal life. Amen. 

The Legion of Mary 1921 - 2021

My family have a history with the Legion of Mary. Both my parents were members of the Legion in the 1950’s and 60’s before they married. My mother’s sisters were Legionaries too as well as many of my father’s cousins. One of the cousins, Brendan Shortall was a Legion of Mary Envoy to East Africa and his picture hangs in the Legion of Mary Headquarters, De Montfort House on Morning Star Avenue in Dublin’s North Inner City.

As a boy, I joined the Legion of Mary in the Parish where we lived in 1980 and ’81. We were part of a Junior Praesidium attached to Benedicta House on the South Circular Road. We met on Tuesday evenings and part of the routine was all Legionaries would be allocated Legion work, an apostolate where we would do some works of charity or service to the church. The older members maybe would visit homes, or work supporting poorer people etc.  There were others who we heard would undertake a protracted trip on what was called PPC (Peregrenatio Pro Christo) where a group of Legion of Mary members would go to a parish for example in the U.K. and promote the Legion at the invitation of the parish priest. I remember we younger members stood at the ‘Book Barrow’ selling Catholic Truth Society literature. Others would be involved in distributing religious goods like Rosary Beads, Medals, and holy pictures.

There were on occasion, Legion events like reunions and social evenings where Legionaries would meet from other places. It would always begin with the Rosary and conclude with the Legion prayers. Prayer was and is the bedrock of all of the meetings and social occasions, big and small.

I believe this is what Frank Duff and the other members of the very early association had in their hearts when they met for the first time on this day in 1921. The first meeting of the ‘Association of Our Lady of Mercy’ took place 100 years ago in Myra House on St. Francis Street in Dublin’s south inner city. The first work proposed by the group was to make a visitation of the hospital for the poor known as the Dublin Union. There were around four thousand residents. The Nuns were supportive to the members in their making this visitation for charitable purposes.

Frank Duff had a devotion to St. Louis-Marie De Montfort (1673- 1716) who was a priest and preacher who in his time impressed Pope Clement XI. He was canonized in 1947 by Pope Pius XII. He had a great devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the Rosary. On of his most notable works was his book on Our Lady called ‘True Devotion to Mary.’ The Legion of Mary handbook, well known to all Legionaries and used at each meeting is influenced by the writings of De Montfort.

From its humble beginnings, this Association of our Lady of Mercy developed to become the Legion of Mary and like a pebble being dropped into a pool, the ripples spread from Francis Street in Dublin to its base off North Brunswick Street, all around Ireland, and across the world. For me, the Legion emphasises the vocation of the laity by virtue of their baptism. From Day one, September 7^th, 1921, Frank Duff and the men and women of the fledgling Legion took the initiative to work for the spread of the gospel, under the banner of Mary, from their own lived lives, in their families, among their fellow worker and neighbours. Zealous Legionaries, lay women and men, journeyed to far-flung places to witness to the mission of the Legion working on the ground with others to spread the good news of Jesus Christ. The Legion is like an army – an army of gospel people, equipped with zeal for the message of Jesus Christ under the protection of Mary.

Legion of Mary members chosen as envoys like Tullamore native, Alphonsus Lambe went to South America. It is hoped that Alfie will be beatified one day. Well known envoy, Venerable Edel Quinn who hailed from Kanturk, Co. Cork, and went as Envoy to Nairobi. Edel died out there as a relatively young woman out there is someone else who the Legion hopes will be raised to the altars of the Church. Frank Duff’s cause for Beatification is also open. There are many heroic Legionaries, lay men and women across the world, who did great work where they were at, and who many would honour as models of zeal and charity.  For example, I have spoken to many people who remember Tom Doyle, a Legionary who worked with the homeless men of the Morning Star Hostel. Tom was a great example of kindness, charity, and patience with all who stayed in the hostel.

I learned about these men and women when I was in the Legion and these people are the ones the many members across the world look up to. Sanctity should be the art of the possible and when we look at the lives of lay women and men who from their own families and homes spend themselves to live the gospel of Jesus by their example, it is a labour of love. It is a mission that is worth highlighting in the 21^st century.

May the Legion of Mary continue to be missionaries of the gospel of Jesus Christ under the mantle of Mary in our country and our world for the next 100 years and beyond.

“Who is she that comes forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in battle array?”

 

 

"Down to Nana's." - When we visited our Nana and Grandad. World Day for Grandparents and the Elderly 2021

Pope Francis has named this Sunday, World Day of Prayer for Grandparents and the Elderly. In the liturgy we thank God for our parents and grandparents and their love and faith which they generously passed on to us. Since the Pandemic began, Grandparents and Great-Grandparents have suffered greatly not being able to see and hold their grandchildren. Pope Francis reminds us of how much he loved his grandparents and sets all grandparents and elderly persons up as examples of faith and living links to the past to strengthen us. 

I clearly remember the day my mother sent myself and my brother Kevin on the bus for the first time on our own. We must have been nearly nine and nearly eleven years old. We got the 19A Bus from the County Bar in Rialto village to the Stadium (the National Boxing Stadium on the South Circular Road). It was a short trip as the Bus went on into town as we called it and out over to the north side. I remember it must have been the summer time as we weren’t in school. We generally went down to our Nana's on Tuesday's and Saturday afternoons.  This was more or less a routine all my life and the older of us siblings will remember this well.

Mam coached us as to what to say as we boarded the bus, a CIE black-and-white Atlantean type bus. “Two halves to the Stadium please.” “He will let you out beside the Spar”, she said. The memories are coming back as I write. The hiss of the doors as we got on. The black and grey fleck floor-covering. The blue rope bell that went along the ceiling and the button bell on the wall with the instruction to ‘push once’ “Ná ghabh thar an líne ban go stada an bus.” was the warning to all passengers waiting to get off. In those days there were bus conductors with a silver ticket machine which printed the chit on blue ink in Irish and English. The smell of the ticket paper was the same smell as the paper that wrapped up the fish and chips. They also had a leather satchel with the money in it to give back the change. If downstairs was full you would hear the conductor announce “Seats on the top.” There was no smoking downstairs on the bus, but people were allowed to smoke upstairs on the bus. The thick stench of smoke found its way onto everyone’s clothes. On a wet day, the smell of cigarettes on the upper deck seemed to be even more toxic and even sticky. In the 21^st century it is almost impossible to imagine that people were allowed to smoke on busses, trains and even in aircraft once upon a time. Perhaps in the future it will be hard to imagine that one-time people even smoked.

Myself and my brother Kevin travelled the five stops or so, up to Dolphin’s Barn and along the South Circular Road by the old Player Wills cigarette factory and up to the Stadium. We got off the bus at the Spar and walked down Greenville Terrace and around onto Dufferin Avenue and on to Petrie Avenue and to O’Curry Road. Mam followed along later and Dad would meet us there after work.

We arrived at no 33 and blew into my poor Nana’s house. Herself and our grandfather, we called him Grandpop or ‘Grompop’, were sitting by the fire.  The fire would be lit off the embers of last night’s fire. He would be smoking his pipe filled with Condor tobacco and she smoked John Player Red. He would be waiting on the Evening Press newspaper to be delivered into the letter box where he would glance at the headlines but quickly get stuck into crossword. He had a well-thumbed copy of the Collins Gem Dictionary in the famous press to his left hand. Their cat, Cola, would be looking for her ears to be scratched while purring loudly. Grampop would be called for his dinner and he would sit up from his arm chair and sit at the table. Lamb Chops and peas and buttery mashed potatoes. Tinned pears or peaches and custard or ice-cream for dessert. When I was very small, Nana’s Bachelor bother, Tommy lived in the house. He was known as Uncle Me-Me. He had a nick-name for myself and Kevin. I was 'Johnny Banger' and Kevin was ‘Two Ton’ He died not long after my sister Gráinne was born. He sat over on his own armchair and read the paper and often compare notes with my grandpop.

Nana had a picture of the Sacred Heart over on the wall as many homes did in the past. The family would be consecrated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and signed by the priest. Nana would burn a little lamp under the picture and I’m sure she remembered all of us in prayer each day. It is probably fair to say that nearly all grandchildren love their grandparents. Someone said that God couldn’t be everywhere so that’s why he created grandmothers. The Catholic Grandparent’s Association holds up Saints Joachim and Anne, the parents of Our Lady as patrons and also Louis and Zélie Martin, the recently canonized parents of St. Therese of Lisieux. I am confident that my four grandparents are in heaven and the main reason I believe this is that they passed on the faith, no questions asked, to our parents. Also, Pope Francis had a great love for his grandparents and often holds up grannies and granddads as models of faith.

Nana’s master piece was her stew. I acknowledge that Irish grannies will be remembered for generations for the ability to make something out of nothing and therefore feed the neighborhood and for the flavour of their stews and coddle. Our mam will readily agree that she could never quite get the hang of the unique flavour of her mother’s stew and coddle. I can still taste every bit of it and it is almost sacramental to me. There was goodness, and love, and generosity in it.

Nana was a natural grandmother with stories and tales of her own childhood and she grew up in tough times where there was very little money and those in authority really were in authority, state and church. It was hard to be a young person and a young married couple in the 1930’s and 40’s. We look from the prism of today and all that we have in our lives in terms of progress and technology. But in our Nana’s day and even in our Mother’s Day, life was often hard. Nana’s sister, Auntie Chrissie, had an old friend, who was a member of the Church of Ireland who died, and Chrissie attended the funeral service even though it was forbidden at the time for a Catholic to enter a Protestant Church. That rule seems so crazy today yet Chrissie was afraid to tell the priest she went to the funeral. Thank God those days are gone. When I read of old Dublin and old Ireland, I know we learned about much of it from school but thank God we also learned about it while sitting on her knee.

Our Dad would pull up outside around 6.00 p.m. in his red Mini Traveller, or his Renault 12. He had a special type of knock which is hard to describe in writing. It was that classic tune ending; “Shave-and-a-haircut. Bay Rum.”  Or the Ronnie Drew version; “How-is-your-auld’-wan? -game-ball. He would come in, pipe in his mouth, and have a fill (a smoke) with grampop and soon we’d be piled into the car, no seatbelts, because there were no seatbelts, and back home again. When we lived in Kilnamanagh, near Tallaght, we’d stop at the shops for smokes for my mother on the way. And this was the routine as we grew up.

Nana died in February 1991. She was still relatively young at 74 years old. While she hadn’t been well, we never really wanted to believe she would die. She worried about death and like many God-fearing people of her generation, some priests filled their people with more scruples than mercy. I mean, week- in and week-out, she and Grampop went to Mass and even met Saint Mother Theresa of Calcutta on the street in the Parish where she lived. She baptized her children, my mother and my aunts, and brought them up to believe in God. They did the same for us. All her life Nana and Grampop, Granny Gretta and Grandad, practiced their faith and yet many of their generation lived with some fear that God was not a god of mercy and forgiveness.  She introduced me to Saint Padre Pio who she loved, and we walked years later up to the Irish Office for Padre Pio which was on Dufferin Avenue till 2018. Nana often said to me when she died and she met Jesus she would grab on to his tunic hold on tight to him so he couldn’t let her go (to hell?) I feel angry when I reflect on this. Where did she get this from? I would be angry with any theology or homily which frightened her like that. I am critical of any attitude that would lay that burden on a person who, in great difficulty and with a hard life, kept the faith through thick, and thin, and even did so often with a sense of humour. I'm convinced I'll meet my grandparents again. 

Those ordinary parents and grandparents, were a heroic generation who built our nation because they were, to paraphrase Pope Francis, the heart of the family and provide a link to the past. Their strength and faith fortify us in our lives today. Their love runs through our veins. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's not natural, it's supernatural.

Some people don’t get why a person will consider religious life or priesthood as a way of life. I believe this is true for several reasons but perhaps the main one is because of the profession of the vow of celibacy. As human beings you see, most people are meant to find a life partner. Relationships are what make the world go around. So unlike what Tom Jones says; it IS unusual. One of our late Capuchins; Fr. Godfrey Mannion once said; “It’s not natural but it’s supernatural.”

So we religious always try to keep one eye on the next world while we go about our daily lives. This is also true of many others who are not monks, nuns or priests, but we religious have promised to daily or even more regularly check in with Jesus Christ in prayer.  So we look to the next world because after all, we believe that we’re going to be there an awful lot longer than we are here on planet earth.

So why did I choose to be a Capuchin? Or as so many people have asked me; what made me become a Capuchin? Well, it took a long time percolating as a young person Breakdancing, Dee-Jaying on our Kilnamanagh Summer Project Radio, and going out with two or three girls. And then joining in 1987 and being professed in 1994 and continuing until my ordination in 1997.

Between the years I studied, was involved in pastoral ministry, laughed, cried, fell in love, felt lonely, and got scared, wondered, and struggled. But deep down too, it felt right, it fit. Just like you, my life can be a day-to-day rollercoaster. But unlike you maybe, few people understand the choice of religious life and that can be hard. Don’t get me wrong, people are very kind.

People sometimes ask; why stay in an organization that some have little time for today and perhaps people are angry with (especially in Ireland for example?) To tell the truth, sometimes in our world it isn’t easy to be identified publicly as a priest or a religious. When was the last time you saw a priest in a collar or a nun in a habit on the streets? (outside of Rome)

A few years ago, I was crossing Stephen’s Green in my habit one evening to go to Loreto College to speak at a fundraiser on behalf of Br. Kevin and the Capuchin Day Centre. I couldn’t get parking near that side of the Green so I parked a bit of a walk away. In the middle of the Green I walked right into a load of teenagers. Suddenly they were calling to their mates to come and see this real monk. I was surrounded and mobile phones were out. Could they have a picture? I stood in with some of the group for the picture – I imagine I was all over Snapchat or Instagram in the days after.

I stay in religious life because I’ve no choice. I can’t leave – I don’t want to. That’s what a vocation does when it’s internalised, in other words when I try to understand it on the inside. It’s a love relationship with Jesus Christ that’s fuelled by prayer. And I need your help too and I’m glad when you say you’ll pray for me and you often do.

So here we are on Vocations Sunday, this year in the teeth of a Global Pandemic, when we can’t meet up or invite you to ‘come and see’ I still invite you who are considering what do with their lives to consider what it might be like to be a member of a religious order or a priest. It’s all about serving – maybe you can handle it. 

Easter 2021

Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who has been crucified. He is not here; he has been raised. Look, there is the place where they laid him.

In Mark’s Gospel, as in each of the Gospel accounts of the Resurrection, there is an invitation to all of us to enter the story. There is an invitation to see the empty tomb and to believe that Jesus Christ is Risen. This invitation is first issued by a young man dressed in white robes to Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome in tonight’s Gospel who are sent to tell the Disciples and Peter this great news.

This invitation is fundamentally a call to faith, and it begins to change things profoundly. It changes the way the disciples see Jesus and it calls them to go out and preach this good news fearlessly. They have no more business harping back to the past and trying to resuscitate the way things were before. It is a new time now and things will never be the same again.

We are witnesses to this great news too. We can see that the stone has been rolled back and inside the darkness of the empty tomb there is no sign of the body. Therefore, believing Christians have no business in the darkness of the tomb. Like the women who fled from the tomb when they learned that Jesus was gone on ahead of them, we must hurry too, there is not a moment to lose.

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is a new beginning. The disciples fortified by the Holy Spirit, enthusiastically go about the world preaching this great news that Jesus is alive. As the Gospel is preached, it reaches the ears and hearts of many. Our own people received this good news in their lives, in their turn, and they passed it on to us.

There are always risks in embracing something new, but Jesus had challenged the disciples to believe. And the two on the road to Emmaus were reminded of the new mission belonging to those who follow Christ. The Church before the passion and death of Christ is completely different to the Church following the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.  We are called to faith.

The world has been in the throes of Covid-19 for over 12 months. In this once-in-a-century pandemic, we have painfully witnessed people suffer, become severely ill, and even die. Europe is enduring a fourth wave and here in Ireland, NPHET are working hard to make sure we are safe. Last year, we were confined to celebrating the Easter liturgies behind closed doors and online and on social media because of the Lockdown restrictions. We had no idea that we would be in severe restrictions again this Lent and Easter.

The immediate aftermath of the crucifixion of Jesus meant that the disciples fled and hid themselves away. Locked in the upper room with the windows and doors bolted they feared the same fate as Jesus. On the morning of the third day as the women went to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus, they found that the stone had been rolled back and seeing a vision of angels they were told that Jesus was not there. They were reminded that Jesus has said this. They were called to action and to go and tell the Disciples that Jesus was going on ahead of them. The two walking on the road to Emmaus also encountered the risen Jesus but they were prevented from recognizing him until he opened the scriptures for them and broke the bread at table. Then their eyes were opened, and their faith was rewarded so much that it spurred them on to action.

In our time in a sense, Covid 19 is confining us to stay apart and away from people in those ‘upper rooms.’ There is darkness and fear around and not being able to gather and meet in church is hard for people of faith. We understand the dangers of groups of people being indoors together, especially given these dangerous variants of the disease. But still to gather safely in church and to pray at a social distance and wearing masks is a source of strength and consolation to so many people. Going to the church in solidarity with our neighbor is also a powerful way of minding our mental health at a time of great stress and fear for all. Again, we pray that we will be permitted to safely worship together soon.  During this darkness, the risen Jesus comes to look for us and while right now, we are unable to fully emerge from the locked rooms of our fears, the light of the risen Lord is coming. We hold out a hope that the time will soon be right thanks to our compliance with the public health guidelines and with the further roll out of the vaccines.

I have heard that the church before Covid and the church that will emerge, around the world, and particularly here in Ireland will be different. We are challenged to imagine new ways of listening to and inviting women and men to take part in church by virtue of our baptism calling. Like the early church after the resurrection, many disciples did not feel comfortable with the newness. Returning to the safety of the old and familiar was preferable. But the Holy Spirit was powerfully at work urging the disciples to preach the Good News. I believe this is happening again today and while this may be scary, it is also exciting and to be part of what will emerge with God’s help. This is what the Risen Jesus is calling us to going forward. Let us be part of the endeavor – it’s the work of the Spirit.

“All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, yes to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28: 18-20)

 

The time has come

Jesus understands suffering.

Jesus gets how people suffer. He gets it

We can confidently place our fears at his feet.

Jesus knows the heartache we feel being separated from loved ones because of the virus. He understands.

He feels the pain of all who miss someone.

Jesus is conscious of the exhaustion of our healthcare workers, nursing, and medical staff.

Jesus holds all of us who are afraid and comforts all who are worn-out with it all.

Jesus will stay with us for the duration of any further lockdown. He is with us every step of the way.

We know this because Jesus was led into the desert -to a place of danger, extremes, and foreboding.

Jesus understands what we are going through.

All through his public ministry the most wretched found a listening ear, a non-judgmental heart, and healing and forgiveness of sins. And those who were written off by the established church leadership of the time were called by name; “Come follow me.”

He himself stood at the frontier of suffering and crossed the border right into pain, shame, and rejection.

When we walk, as we are, through this Covid ‘valley of death’ we have Jesus walk with us, and like the poem ‘Footprints’ carrying us.

Jesus is telling us, despite social distancing, we still have each other.

And there is hope.

We are moving through it.

Daylight is coming.

The time has come.

People have been asking about Ash Wednesday. We do not have a supply of ashes this year as the church suppliers have not had much business since the churches have been closed to congregations for much of last year. Ashes are made by burning the palm from the previous Palm Sunday. We still have that supply of palm as we were closed to congregations last year. Our Paschal Candle from 2020 still has a lot of wax in it when it would normally be burned down by now. Because of Level 5 restrictions we are unable to have people come and queue for blessed ashes.

We went into Lockdown last March during Lent and the churches closed all through the remainder of Lent, into Easter and over Eastertime. We celebrated Holy Week, the Paschal Triduum, lit the Paschal Candle, and celebrated Easter time with empty churches.

A journalist was ringing around different clergy asking about our online ministry and what of the future? I told her our Facebook Mass each day since last March has been very well supported and our Rosary at 8.00 p.m. each night, also on the Priorswood Parish Facebook page is a spectacular success. We are blessed to have upwards of 220 different accounts on with an average of 2 thousand plus views. She asked me about Easter, and I said it may be that we will not have the congregations back unless its safe. As Archbishop Farrell has said, “Everything we do must always be in accord with NPHET guidelines.”

Christmas was difficult for parishes with Covid 19 volunteers, social distancing, and sanitizing before and after Masses. We were constantly on guard in case the guidelines on numbers would be breached. And yet by and large all our Churches were safe places. I hope we never have a Christmas like it again – it was completely stressful.

This year, Lent begins in two days’ time with Ash Wednesday. Wearing ashes traditionally reminds me and others that we are going to do something special for Lent. We will try to be more charitable, or less selfish, or be more moderate and sober, perhaps giving up alcohol or tobacco. Self-denial is a powerful way to get into the spirit of Lent. On Ash Wednesday and on Good Friday we are called to fast and abstain. To fast from food, eating one meal and two collations (small portions of food) and to abstain from meat and alcohol. However, we need to be sensible also too. If one does not have good health, and is on medication, or one is older, there is no obligation to fast.

In a way we have been living a kind of Lent with the pandemic since last March. All of us have struggled with the restrictions or have feared contracting Covid. Too many have been sick, and sadly, many have died. Our medical front line heroes have really suffered. Just look at the huge numbers that have been hospitalised. Businesses and jobs have suffered greatly. We pray for the continued success for the roll out of the vaccines and please God we pray for a safe return to the time when we can meet and hold our loved ones again.

We will bless any ashes you may have during our Mass on Facebook live on the Priorswood Parish page. Taking our lead from St. Mel’s Cathedral Parish, Longford, we invite you to use some cold ash from the fireplace or some soil from the garden which we will bless remotely.

 

 

  

You can't sunbathe in a hurricane

I was advised last year not to look at too much news but rather to ration the news to one bulletin per day. This is good advice, but I acknowledge that I’m finding it difficult for three reasons. First, it is automatic. Taking up the phone is now a force of habit and is done without thinking. Second, the response to this pandemic demands we stay apart from people. Looking at the phone is a way of finding out is anyone out there. Third, I am taking up the phone to see the news in the hope that there are hints of a good news story in the midst of the misery.

Of course we are not alone and without a doubt there is solidarity in that we are all in this together. Social media has afforded us the mechanism to reach out in a myriad of ways not least in making us smile and laugh. However, sometimes we can’t help feeling alone in the eye of the storm and the construction of a word or a sentence on a WhatsApp group can take a few attempts. Sometimes it’s better to say nothing or hope they will say are you okay?

Prayer is a challenge too. The unbeliever would say despite all the prayers in 2020, millions still got sick and died of Covid 19. The believer would say that God hears our prayers and through medical science, nursing and medical staff, care staff, and front-line staff, the Holy Spirit is working in the world. And for people who regularly turn to prayer for themselves and for others and are finding it a challenge, the saying ‘You can’t sunbathe in a hurricane’ makes sense.

Since all this began, I’ve sat quietly with the Lord. I don’t mind admitting I’ve felt it is a one-way street, that I am getting no answers to my prayers for an end to this thing. I know that believers in their millions have been asking God for the same thing. Many of them have had terrible times in that they have lost loved ones and have become sick themselves.  Here in our corner of the world, we’ve prayed the Mass on Facebook each day and the Rosary each evening. We have been joined by an increasing international number of our Rosary family. This has been a wonderful blessing.

Prayer does work and miracles do happen. I am contacted daily through three different Facebook feeds for prayers for intentions. People reach out in desperation and many are at their wits end. Naturally, there might be no answer in this world and sometimes the answer to prayers will not work out the way we wish.  Yet many more get back in touch with gratitude for prayers answered too.  I find myself being joyful when someone thanks me for prayers that were answered, and I get discouraged when there is no earthly answer. Sometimes the discouragement is compounded depending on what kind of form I am in. Covid 19 has sometimes succeeded in frightening me and this has a bearing on whether I am happy or sad.

Even though I’m faithful to the Government guidelines, the fear is that I will wake up with Covid. I develop symptoms regularly in my head. And if I do not feel them, it must be because I am asymptomatic. If I do not get Covid, surely someone I love will and worse still, it will be my fault for not staying at home like NPHET says we should. Hands up who else feels like that? Fear and isolation can do this to us on the inside. So, we hope and pray for an end to this and its coming. While prayer is tough now and putting language on how we feel is difficult, I refuse to give up on hope. Still, there is not a lot left in the tank.

Catholic Grandparents Association. January Faith Café 2021

My Faith Story is completely caught up my relationship with my grandparents, especially my maternal grandparents, and in particular my mother’s mother, who we called Nana. She was born weeks before Padraig Piaras and the other leaders of the Easter Rising entered the GPO in 1916.

Nana, (died 1991) Grandpop (died 1994) Granny Greta, (died 1992) and Grandad (died 1977) grew up in the infancy of the state during the 1920’s, and 30’s and it was a different Ireland to the place we have now, and a different church to the church we have now.

They coped with a lot of hardship, but there was a real sense of meitheal and solidarity between families and neighbours when our grandparents were growing up and starting their families. A huge amount of what they did revolved around the local parish and the church. Devotions, sodalities, the Legion of Mary, now in its centenary year this year. By and large they were a generous and kind people who did not shut the door on others.

The second half of the 20^th century saw monumental change, and especially in Ireland. In 1962, RTE began broadcasting on television, and despite Dev’s fears, Gay Byrne began the Late Late Show, now in its 59^th season. Pope John XXIII called his Council and my grandparents, your parents, got used to going to Mass in the vernacular for example. They had to contend with decimalisation instead of pounds, shillings, and pence.

The clergy were blessed and lucky to have a great cohort of supportive laity though some perhaps didn’t appreciate this and took it for granted. Sadly, there were clergy and religious who didn’t live as men and women of the gospel and to this day there is a blight on the story of religion in Ireland. While this is not a conversation for tonight, we know the report of the Commission into the Mother and Baby Homes will prove terribly painful for many people, indeed especially for those directly affected.

Faith, prayer, church, Mass was all very much part of the language of my life growing up going between my home and my grandparent’s houses. We were not brainwashed but the church was part of my story and my formation to some extent. Thanks to Vat II and the social teaching of Pope Paul and Pope John Paul II in particular, and the response of Archbishop Ryan in Dublin for example, the church was expanding and building churches and schools with the help of the people via SHARE.

If the Council didn’t shake the church up over time, the earthquake happened when Paul VI died. Paul had an alarm clock which kept good time from the time he got it in Poland when he was a papal diplomat in the 1940’s. Author Peter Hebblethwaite wrote that when Paul died, the Polish alarm clock suddenly went off. Cardinal Albino Luciani who had been elected pope to succeed Paul in August 1978 died suddenly. The Archbishop of Krakow, 58-year-old Cardinal Karol Wojtyla was elected Pope on October 16^th, 1978. The papacy which had been emerging from behind the walls of the Vatican since Pope John, and Pope Paul, burst out from St. Peter’s Square. In the first year of the pontificate, John Paul II travelled to Mexico, Poland, Ireland, and the United States of America. Everybody was talking about John Paul II

As the time went on, perhaps it became more difficult – especially as you saw how flagrantly some clergy did not live up to their gospel calling – which would be expected of men of God. Yet, my grandparents and parents, the domestic church, laid a foundation from the kitchen table which helped people like me to see the bigger picture. And that bigger picture is that the church is belongs to Christ. And it is made up of ‘God’s holy and faithful people’' in the words of Pope Francis. Yet, Jesus never said it was going to be easy, but he promised to be with his church; c.f. Matt 28 (“I am with you always…”) and John 16:33 (“Simon, Satan has got his wish to sift you all like wheat, but I have prayed for you, Simon, and when you have recovered, you must strengthen your brothers. In the world you will have troubles, but have courage, I have conquered the world.”) We need to be reminded of this and through this, of the people who have kept the faith despite the huge challenges and the scandals.

Our grandparents made us what we are. It may sound like a cliché, but we stand on the shoulders of giants. Not just from a faith point of view but because they are the engine room of the family, the heartbeat of the home where the faith was transmitted. We felt safe when they were around.

Pope Benedict XVI says that ‘grandparents are a source of enrichment for families, for the church, and for society’ in his beautiful 2008 prayer. Pope Francis says Grandparents are ‘the living memory of the family.’ He often refers to grandmothers and grandfathers especially as he remembers his own grandparents. Never was the vocation of grandparents more necessary than today, you are a powerful image of God in our world and in the heart of the family for 2021.

You are a source of strength for the young people when they are struggling because you have life’s experience. You have the wisdom of years and perhaps are more qualified to encourage the kids today. Indeed, during the height of the gangland violence in Dublin city in the last few years, which we pray for an end to soon, Archbishop Martin walked with many grandparents of the north inner-city community and he appealed to those engaged in violence to ‘listen to their grandmothers. ‘

Covid 19 is crucifying our society and is cocooning our grandparents in these days. Seeing pictures on television and on our social media of nana’s and granddads meeting their grandchildren and great grandchildren from inside the living room windows is hard to watch. God grant that soon; our grandparents can hold us again and we can all hold each other with no fear.

We need to focus on the positives. The Vaccines are being rolled out and each day while we hear the grim news of more infections, we are hearing too of the vaccinations. So, the end is in sight and the Cavalry is on the hills.

Lord bless the healing hands of our nursing, medical, and surgical staff. Bless the immunologists, virologists, and scientists who have developed these vaccines. God speed the effort to make us all well. May God bless our grandparents through Louis and Zelie Martin and Joachim and Anne. Amen.

 

 

Baptism - A time of new beginnings...

We remember these times, and the past year, 2020, more for what we missed and lost than for what we could do, or where we could go, and who we could be with. We will recall it as a time when we had to stay apart from others, and to have no close contact with people. We learned a new language too, like support bubbles, social distancing, mRNA, and other abbreviations. And when shops, businesses, and banks, would be wary of customers coming in wearing face coverings, today you may not be admitted unless you sport a facemask.

In the church, we will remember 2020 as the year when we had to close churches and stop people from coming to Mass. We resorted, successfully in the main, to an online presence and certainly here in Priorswood, our weekday Mass and evening Rosary on Facebook live and on the webcam on Sundays has been not only a powerful time of solidarity but a lifeline for all concerned. We have lost but we have gained too.

While we can’t say Mass with the people right now, and only hold funeral Masses with 10 people, and while we can’t book in or celebrate Baptisms, we can gather with people from all over the world on our social media timeline. God closes one door, but he opens another.

Today, we see Jesus coming to John for Baptism. The Baptist is the one who prepares the way for Jesus. For those following John and accepting baptism it was a chance for them to begin again with a new confidence. When Jesus descended into the waters of the Jordan and ascended, the heavens were torn open and the Spirit, like a dove, descended on him and the voice said; “You are my Son, the Beloved, my favour rests on you.”

One of the ceremonies that has suffered in the parish because of Covid is the baptism ceremony. Indeed, this was the parish where I celebrated my first baptism as a deacon back in 1996, and I still remember her name. We have been unable to book in any baptisms and there are many who are waiting for the baptism of their baby to take place. I know how painful this can be, and Fathers Bill and Terence would understand this. Declan, who was ordained to the permanent Diaconate in August, also understands because as a deacon, he is one of the ordinary ministers of baptism.

One of the cornerstones of the ministry of a parish is to welcome a new member of our church among us and we here would acknowledge the importance and the significance of this, both infant baptism and adult baptism. Baptism is the gateway to the other sacraments of the church and the same Holy Spirit that descended like a dove on Jesus, comes down upon the child or adult who is baptised. Holiness hits us when we are baptised and this is for our life on earth, and for the eternal life.

I was baptised in late October 1969 in the Church of the Holy Child, Whitehall, the parish where my parents were living in when they got married. My mother recalls that Fr. Tom Stack who baptised me during the ceremony said, “Baptism is a time of new beginnings…” I reconnected with Tom Stack years later and he brought my baptism candle up in the offertory procession at my first Mass after ordination in June 1997. Just last month, Msgr. Tom Stack died after 60 years of priesthood. A member of the Radharc team of priests, Tom made pioneering programmes from the 1960’s to the 1990’s from a religious, cultural, and social point of view.  I am grateful to God to be here in Priorswood during these scary and challenging times. I am thankful for my Capuchin brothers and my blood family. I believe Covid 19 is a crucifixion but if it has anything going for it, perhaps it has reminded us how much we miss those we love. And I am full of gratitude for Msgr. Tom Stack and my baptism where it all began for me as it is for all Christians.