I'D LOVE TO TAKE YOU TO IRELAND

When an Irishman wants to honour his friend, there is no greater prize in his gift bag than the simple desire to have his friend visit his home. An American has a huge selection from which to chose, An Irishman,  not so. When Paddy tells Sheila that there is no greater treat on offer than a visit to his homeland he will have in  mind, not some spectacular scenery or monument to human ingenuity, but something as eminently forgettable as a a countryside cross roads or his parents' grave.On closer study however it inevitably transpires that while the American seeks to impress, the returned Paddy wants only to share the richest treasures of his heart.

OH TO BE IN ENGLAND

All On An April Evening 

April airs were abroad;
The sheep with their little lambs
Pass'd me by on the road.

The sheep with their little lambs
Pass'd me by on the road;
All in an April evening
I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary, and crying
With a weak human cry;
I thought on the Lamb of God
Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains
Dewy pastures are sweet:
Rest for the little bodies,
Rest for the little feet.

Rest for the Lamb of God
Up on the hill-top green;
Only a cross of shame
Two stark crosses between.

All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
And thought on the Lamb of God. 
Words by Kathryn Tynan

HOW HEAR YOU?

There are times when what we see leaves us literally SPEECHLESS. Equally so with what we hear, that too can leave us speechless. It is in these speech robbing moments that we thank God for the power of imagination. 
Imagination can translate everyday events and occurrences, opening our hearts to deeper and deeper things. Using the imagination in this way is a great help in  understanding  the Gospels. 

Many times the Gospels refer to Jesus "teaching" people, but he mostly taught not in a lecture-fashion, but in drawing lessons from the images about him.

A classic example comes from Mark chapter 4, "A sower went out to sow". He spoke from and of the countryside and lifestyle in which he lived. This made his words more alive and more memorable. They had no need to memorise as in formal teaching; his words came alive in their hearts precisely because their feet, and his, were planted in the realities of their every day.

Using these everyday images, Jesus helped people discover afresh the God they had heard about since childhood. But now it was different, Their own recognised "doctors of the Law" required them to cast aside the common and the everyday and go listen to them, the experts. The world in which Jesus spoke did not ask them to move one inch; God was with them, there in their very own world. No surprise then that they said of him, "he speaks with authority".

Remember that next time some well-intended preacher is ramming "the Gospel truth" down your throat. Many of us are easily deceived by our own alleged eloquence (especially Blog Writers!) 

What a stunning, galvanising, inspiring thought, that the God of our dreams is not so far away. Certainly not locked up in some place to which only learned experts have the key. No, he is here with us now in our everyday world, the one he created; the place we usually call life.

THE FRIENDSHIP BUSINESS

I am, of late, greatly troubled by Dandruff; Dandruff of the most severe and noticeable kind. Should you find yourself sitting behind me at a church service, all too often these days, a funeral, please don't feign ignorance of me for the snowflakes I shower around. Notice me still and if "being of good courage" matters to you at all, please, please, greet me yet as friend.

"FRIEND", did you hear that, "friend"? An abused and sadly often, misused term these days. Facebook, (yes you'll find me there) tells me that I have no less than 120 friends. I've only just now checked through their names and found many that were new to me. Yet I'm glad they're there; people whose domestic details are new to me yet by their very presence can introduce me to other cultures, other pass times, other friendships.

But No! You're right of course, I do not regard being able to chat with someone on subjects in which I have little interest or people who may have a ready answer for the griefs of the day, such as Dandruff! as a fit test for entry under the heading of "Friend". I am more inclined, as so often when I emerge from barren times, to turn to William Shakespeare. 

In Hamlet, finding his son Laertes delaying his passage  abroad, Polonius, his father, delays him yet further with these words of advice on "Friendship".

"Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; "

Forget Facebook;  in the world of W.S. do you and I count as friends or is it enough to be able to help with Dandruff?

MAKING UP OUR MINDS ABOUT THE CHURCH

Sometimes I imagine that I can still hear him say it. His neat little body shook with vigour as he pronounced the last two words; " I want to make the church, strong again". Trouble was, he had his own problems as we all knew, personal problems, and YES for sure, we all knew.  We all knew and so we all believed that his kind of problem interfered  with our great shared mission as the Church. What a colossal error of judgement.

All too tempting to look for a simple, one-stroke answer, one that will unburden us of the drudgery of hearing the same old excuses, over and over again. There's just got to be an answer, a straight forward, complete, once-and-for- all answer, so that the whole messy business can be over and done with for good and we can get on with our great work. Sorry, no, there isn't. Whatever the malady, it's the human condition that is the real problem. And the human condition is not something that distracts from our glorious mission, the saving of souls or some such, it IS our Mission.

Let's not forget either that for all its loudly proclaimed theological stature, the cement used in the building of our much treasured church is, once again, the human condition. It is still our church, our stupid old, sin-laden Church and we love it. In the face of everything the Human Condition brings to the surface in life, the church is ready with it's own secret weapon: rather than hide behind a mask of  ornate vestments, the church is not ashamed to be weak. 


St. Paul knew the churches secret of success. In second Corinthians he tells us: "If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness". (2.Cor 11-30,) Good old Paul in at the very heart of it as usual. Encouraged by the Apostle let's dare to ask today's question. A question  not just about weak human beings struggling with addictions, but about the Church itself. Is it really such a dreadful thing to be so weak that we lose buildings and territory? Losing our local churches,  even those dearly loved icons of fondness and devotion never comes easy and churchmen rightly struggle to prevent it happening. But if the tide of history asks us to do so, let's not look at it for more than it is. Let's not be afraid to be weak, losing ground and face.

Perhaps we thought that having come so far, history would not repeat itself. The pain of growth and change would never again come to trouble us. If so, we were wrong. The future we plan for may yet be thousands of years off, in which case the discomfort we presently endure is no more than our version of the catacombs. We all want the Church to be strong again, yes ALL of us. But first we must not be afraid to be weak for we have his parting words for it, " I am with you always, yes to the end of time." (Matt: 28-20)

BEHIND THE FRONT

"They constantly try to escape
from the darkness outside and within
by dreaming of systems so perfect 
that no one will need to be good."

The lines are from T.S. Eliot's "Choruses from the Rock" which I have lately been revisiting after many years. His lines seem so full of foreboding it was probably inevitable that I would use them while penning my thoughts recently on the tragic death of a young relative. So, for the moment at least, Eliot has found a place among so many other notes and references in my crowded little writing space. But there's a difference this time around.

Back in the day, when T.S. came more frequently to mind, I was busy telling the world where and how it should get it's act together; improve itself. Now, many years later, I can't helping being haunted by the thought, as Fr Geoffrey Adamson once put it to me, of "what a damn fool I've been".

The night air around my bed is frequently heavy-laden with ghostly memories (or should that be ghastly) of stupid incidents each bearing my name. The temptation to despair is frighteningly real, but I am regularly saved by good people who break from the undergrowth of the years to say they can't even remember the incident and anyway not to worry, they  forgive me. And then too of course, there's always the church! Yes, the Church, the stupid old, sin-laden Church. Don't you just love it! Thank God for the Church.

For my sins, that must have been why, I was at one stage sent to teach R.E. to boys of secondary school age in a Junior Seminary at Upholland. Its front wing was designed to impress and usually did, which is probably why today people are genuinely shocked to learn that the once carefully manicured grounds and self-satisfied looking building are now nothing more than a collection of ruins. 

 Who could possibly imagine such a fate befalling St. Peter's in Rome? And would it matter all that much if it did? Well, would it?

Jesus founded his church on the rock we know as St Peter, Peter who three times denied he even knew him. Peter may well have hero-worshiped Jesus but he like all of us have to learn that following Christ in faith is no mere fan club. Impressive architecture should not beguile us nor the memory of our own stupidity haunt us. We have come to lean not on a system but on Christ himself. I must learn to laugh at myself, trust in the Lord and sleep better.



 

PEACE IN YOUR HEART AND IN THE WORLD

It Is Possible 
Just take a fresh look at where you are and how much being here means to you. 
Then, from the bottom of your heart, utter this most simple of prayers:
"Good Old Earth; thanks for everything". 

 It really is as simple as that.

HOW IT GETS TO ME

 I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

SORTING MYSELF OUT

I had quite forgotten how the man put it, all those years ago, but just now, as I scrambled about searching for a foothold, the words tumbled into mind. Suddenly they were there in the very centre of my room, blocking every exit. There was to be no escape. The man insisted that I listen and not just for old-time sake.


"There is one who remembers the way to your door:
Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.
You shall not deny the Stranger." (Eliot: Choruses from the Rock)

Evade Life? Who would be so foolish? We of course, who else? We who are forever on our phones, busy with the affairs of others, in return for their feigned interest in ours. With so many keys to tap, so many interests to entertain us, Life can very easily be given the slip, until, that is, just like the man said, "the stranger" calls. 

Her voice came first, still shaking with shock: "He died just yesterday, your old friend of teenage days. Cancer, you know." She continued "That means that the children have lost two grandfathers and a cousin, all within eleven short weeks". Ah, so, I thought, he has not forgotten the way to our door. Time to put evasion aside: the stranger stands within our very walls. He will be heard. 

No, I have not forgotten, the cousin. No indeed, it is his going from us above all others, that has me searching for words. No, I had not forgotten the young man's passing. I pause only that you may better appreciate the effect of the stranger's knock on the door of our house.

I have known a Father and Son who daily worked side by side, yet spoke but little. Even so, the partnership was a success, it brought results, something to pass on. But this was different; here was the happy embrace of human beings meeting life together. A generation apart, they nonetheless welcomed  time and its gifts with youthful enthusiasm, as their shared futures unfolded about them. 

Why, we all knew they were partners before ever a partnership was formed. Could not the stranger have stood quietly by and enjoyed the sight of his eyes just as we all did? Did he have to come knocking, reminding us of the fragility of our days?

To that one question there came many answers but none that satisfied. "Oh, isn't it true what they say, he only takes the best?"  Really? And a hidden part of us turns away, without conviction. "He'll be looking down on us for sure;" more hollow still. It's simple really. As the man said, "we shall not deny the stranger". It had all been done so nicely, the words, the music, the ceremony, but then? Then came the living without him. The smile, the jokes, the texts and phone calls, no more. "We shall not deny the stranger." 

Some say LIFE is God's maiden name and silence his vernacular, his everyday mode of speech. We shall have to see, won't we? We can switch off the phones;  they simply ring out. Even the well-intended pretty music friends draw to our attention struggles to cope with pain. It is into the silence, His silence, His vernacular, that we must direct our ways. It is a silence that speaks more loudly than words, but can be heard only with the heart. It is the secret language of life, and it is with this, we must now engage.

AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING

We kept no diaries, 
no records of dates and times, 

we, who came and went to the village of our youth.

We seldom mentioned the quiet joy 
of meeting ageing faces.

Now they too have gone
And join their parents from earlier days. 

We who follow them
accept our new positioning 

in the portraiture of time.

For we too belong 
and need only wait our place.
(these few lines are written in memory of Brendan McIntyre, an old school friend of long ago)

FOOTHOLDS FOR THE SPIRIT

The Transforming Power of God's Holy Spirit has deep roots in the human psyche. Awareness of these roots can help our celebration of this feast day.

SIGNS OF THE SPIRIT BEFORE PENTECOST

Who invented the wheel? Whose idea was it?
Perhaps it wasn't invented at all, just discovered.
Someone, somewhere, sometime, noticed that round things could be made to roll and from then on, they did.

What was it like for the person who first felt the excitement
of being blown along by the wind?
How did they feel who first set out upon the oceans swell with a sail above them, 
letting the wind take them where it might?

Who was it first knew the thrill that came with the first sparks of fire,
the first strokes of a swimmer,
or the first words that were clearly meant and clearly understood?

What do you need to gain the love of a beautiful woman?
What can win you the unswerving devotion of a good man?
What price will you pay for the gift of a loyal friend?
How far must you travel to know the secrets of your own heart?
How many tears must flow before a lesson is truly learned? 
Take hold of the wind.

For sure, to some questions there is no answer? Or none that is good enough.
Some questions set us a puzzle to keep us guessing, but others,
the ones that really matter,
ask us to look with wonder into the depths of our own being
and marvel at our existence.

Today is Pentecost.
We do not need to know everything about it to know that
however much we know, we know but little.
For Pentecost asks the one question God asks each one of us;
"will you come with me?"

"Will you allow the wind of my spirit to fill your sails
and take you to the very edge of your own courage?
Will you allow me to propel you in safety across depths you cannot imagine?
Are you willing to lose control of your own destiny,
trusting that I can take you there?"

These are the questions Pentecost asks of us.

For answers, we need to look to him in whom the Father was well pleased,
on whom the spirit descended,
the One who died and is Risen,
Jesus the Lord.

A great prize cannot be purchased with a simple handout.
In the land of eternity neither credit card nor cash is of any use.
On the Cross Jesus showed us clearly how we can take hold of the wind,
capture for ourselves the very breath of God.
Nothing less than everything will do.
The price is total love.
The reward is freedom unimagined.

With Him then, we dare to answer the questions Pentecost asks of us,
with Him we can dare to say;
"Into your hands, I commit my spirit"

©Valentine Farrell 20-05-1999

THOUGHTS FOR PENTECOST

EARTH
From the earth we came,
to the earth we shall return,  
Bless the good earth, O Lord,
with the fire of your longing.
It is the home of our being. 
Shake it to its roots with the power of your Spirit,
Renew its face 
with the bright hope of your promises.
In the red dawn of Pentecost 
we stand in your doorway,
Awe-struck, 
Contrite, 
Humble, 
Thankful, 
Committed.
Make us brave to enter anew, O, Lord,  
This earth, our home,
The cradle of your glory. Amen

WATER
Like the Deer that yearns for running streams,
Thus O Lord, have you taught us to long for you.
Plunge us anew into the waters of this life.
It is the waters, O Lord,
that mould and shape and change the earth,  
our home.
It is the waters that secretly chart
the times of your passing,
the hand of your visitations.
The waters measure the age of our earth,
and the days of our dwelling here.
Baptise us in water, O Lord. Amen

WIND
The wind that stirs the cornfield
The breeze that comes from 
we know not where, 
The breath that relieves our longing lungs
Your Spirit, O Lord means more,
for you are closer than the air we breath,
yet more mysterious than the wind.
Fill our souls with the breath of your presence,
And breath after breath,
help us know the gift of your sustaining Power.
Amen

FIRE
Ice cold the hearts that turn from you O God,
Ice cold the hands that do not touch you in their daily work,
Ice cold the minds that do not seek you in their searching.
Ice cold the laughter that does not know your joy,
Ice cold the pain that feels not your healing presence.
But ice can burn O Lord.
Inflame our coldness 
with the burning passion of your love,
Amen.

YOU MUST REMEMBER THIS

If the headline reminds you of a song, it does me too. Casablanca and Ingrid Bergman urging Sam to "play as time goes by" and reluctantly he does. Ah!  lovely, the old ones are the best.

But I'm not thinking of Humphrey Bogart or the song, "As time goes by" just now, rather I'm thinking of something much closer to home. I'm thinking of something that appeared on this blog just a few days ago. It was under the heading, "Love in the Church" and the writer was saying that if we use LOVE properly in the church, we shall be able to see past the weaknesses of others, even the priest, to what really matters. Here are the actual words of the writer: "Then they lost him (the priest) and they remembered as they reflected and said goodbye. They remembered he created the community they were so lucky to enjoy.

You must remember; it was such a good point for all of us. Not using LOVE as something to make us feel good about ourselves but as a way of seeing past the surface things to the deeper bits, the parts that really matter.

Of course it's tempting for all of us to tell the man at the piano "to play it again", bring back the old times, the good times. But what really matters is that we learn the lessons of the past to make a much better today and tomorrow.

 

LOVE IN THE CHURCH

 "Wouldn't it be wonderful if  LOVE  was the message that spilled out from all the activities known as Church? "
 

 EXTRACTS FROM PRIVATE LETTERS RECEIVED

(used ONLY with permission of the writers)

1. Love in the Church.
It's all in the people really. But our mass can be a solitary experience apart from a quick hand shake and "Peace ..."
I know in large parishes, with good priests to lead and support the people, things can be different. I know of parishes where there is real life and love is given and received and shared.
But here in my little parish, even here we have love in action.


2. I fell in love with a Catholic

When I started attending the church it was because of love. I fell in love with a Catholic. I found the church welcoming, friendly and met some lovely people who had a great sense of community. I also very much liked the Priest. However, I didn't feel the congregation always remembered the message of love. They took offence easily when the priest was sometimes grumpy or a bit abrasive. People forgot to see him with love, to remember the years of service, the sacrifice of a life without a wife and family so many enjoyed that he made, to remember the pain and suffering he faced with illness. Sometimes, not always, they just heard the harsh words.

Then we lost him and they remembered as they reflected and said goodbye. They remembered he created the church community they were so lucky to enjoy. Sometimes we need to use love to see past what is on the surface and in front of us.

 

THE IDEAL CHURCH LEADER

Whether it's the Pope blessing us from the balcony, the Head of our local school reminding us of everything involved in raising young people as Catholics,  or a Parish Priest trying to make us all feel "wanted" at the Sunday Mass, most of us will have some idea of what it takes to make a good CHURCH leader. Try these for size.

1. You can get a bright spark who feels like a breath of fresh air, at first, but after no time at all is just too darned bright and only a bunch of similar clever clogs can live with him. 

2. Or you're saddled with the quiet gentle type and the place just goes to sleep. 

3. And of course you can also find yourself with someone whose been shouting from the back seat for ages, but just can't motivate others. With them it's always someone else's fault or the stupid system. 

4. Go on a parish retreat and some kindly old chap may remind you that Jesus didn't run leadership courses but relied on a few willing souls who were ready to be taught, often through pain; theirs as well as His.

5. Whole groups of people may enjoy reading about these things, but run a mile from offering an opinion. We're not selfish - just private!

6. Some people do seem to have the right idea at first but end up disappointing us, while others upset everyone from the start, and stay that way. The ideal Church Leader; anyone know?

ANONYMOUS ANSWERS 
1. The best parishes have to be the ones where the people are fully involved in all aspects of their church.
As a visitor you can spot them a mile off.
Where the priest has the ability, as you say, to make everyone feel welcome. Where people want to be involved and feel it is their church, their home, their responsibility.

2.???This place is waiting for YOUR suggestion 

ANYONE LIKE THE PICTURE?

SECOND THOUGHTS, PLEASE!

Clearly, lots of us think LOVE is a good idea; the latest post, "Have I Told you Lately that I Love You?" got lots of positive feed back even if you prefer not to be published. Funny thing, when you mention Love to people, it nearly always rings a bell and brings a story along. Often the story has a sad side, but there's always great faith too. 

Now, I hope you don't mind but I'm going to push you all for something more please. That last piece about Love, also asked this question,
Wouldn't it be wonderful if love was the message that spilled out from all the activities known as Church?  

Perhaps it does and I'm too thick to notice, but I do notice or imagine anyway, that people often have a big, bossy image of the church, there to lay down the law as it were. I'm just wondering if the Church could be better at making sure that LOVE was the message that oozed out from all its umpteen activities. Many of you have different experiences from meeting the church head-on in your lives. You may well have thoughts on this, thoughts that could be a real help to others. I'd love to hear from you; we all would. Go on, "In All things Love" remember. And we don't have to publish your name.