My aunt Mary died two weeks ago. She was 95 .Last Sunday evening I flew to England to officiate at her funeral services. I stayed with my brother Tommy and on Monday we took the two hour journey to the care home near Brighton run by the Order of St. Augustine where she had lived for the last years of her life . There we had Requiem Mass and the nuns were overwhelming in their welcome and kindness. On Tuesday we went to Chippenham,one and half hour’s drive , for the burial service. I flew back from Heathrow that evening and stayed with friends in Antrim.

While I was on my way back to the airport I got a call to say that the papers here had got wind of my planned visit to Maghaberry prison .I was going there to the see the homeless man who robbed me before Christmas while I was putting him up for the night. He had been rearrested a few days later for breaching the terms of his parole and has been back inside ever since, including Christmas.

Through the Chaplain’s office I had arranged two consecutive morning visits and had checked before I left that all was in order.I was disappointed to find that in fact one visit was at 11.15am and the other at 2.15pm. [He was not brought to see meuntil 3pm.] The morning visit was with Tony Taylor, a dissident republican from this parish of Holy Family .His name is written in large letters on the city walls beside those of Marian Price. (I will tell you his case perhaps next week and after I have had a chat with Pat Ramsay from the SDLP who also visited him recently.)

I told ‘John’- not his real name- how angry, hurt and let down I was when I discovered I had been robbed and my hospitality had been abused. I went on to say how, with time, I had found the grace to forgive him and held no bitter feelings against him. In fact, I went on to tell him, I would get no joy out of sending him to prison and, if asked, would be pleading clemency and mercy for him. Because there may be a court case about the robbery I am not at liberty to share with you his part of our discussion. I prayed with him before I left, told him how, through God’s love for him, he could turn his life around. I promised to keep in touch and would be there for him on his release.

When I returned home that evening three people in the parish had died.

A Sponsored Walk with a Difference

The first sponsored walk I ever did was with the students of the Technical College in Derry when I was chaplain there as a young curate in St. Eugene’s. Then in Strabane I did a parachute jump in Letterkenny in aid of the Heart Chest and Stroke Charity. One of the scary parts of that event was having to climb out onto the wing of the plane,past a strong slip stream ,to the jumping off platform. Then, having jumped, I had to count up to ‘ten elephants’ before looking up to see if my parachute had opened. (The ‘elephants’ part is to make sure ten full seconds have passed). If by then it has still not opened you have to open your emergency parachute. If ittoo fails, you have about twenty seconds left to say a quick prayer!

Then a few years ago I did a tandem parachute jump for the Foyle Hospice. This meant that I was in free fall through the air from about 12,000 feet to 2,000 before the parachute was finally opened. It raised about £6,000. Ironically as I got on the hospice bus that morning taking us to the jump site in Co. Derry the music that was playing was ‘If tomorrow never comes’ by Gareth Brooks!

A few weeks ago I accepted an invitation from Children in Crossfire to do a sponsored walk over hot coals. This is a charity I admire and one of its patrons is the Dali Lama. It helps vulnerable children worldwide suffering from the effects of violence. It was started by our own Richard Moore who himself was blinded by a rubber bullet during what is now being called euphemistically ‘The Troubles.’ The walk will take place on Thursday 8th March Hotel at 9.00pm. in the car part of Da Vinci’s Hotel,with the coals lit at 8.30pm. Please feel free to sponsor me and/or come to watch.

When I told people at Mass about it one man said to me later that his son did it two months ago and would be getting out of hospital tomorrow ! Another lady said it would be a good preparation for me for the ‘coals of hell!’ How encouraging!

Who said a priest’s life is boring? In fact I do not know any other walk in life that offers such fulfilment.

paddy @okanes.org

Address:
Holy family church
Ballymagroarty
Derry Bt48 0az

I remember being warned as a child never to go near a certain house. The man  who lived there had had T.B. People were afraid. Thankfullynowadays  that illness is almost a thing of the past.At the time of Christ people saw a leper as an ever greater  threat to their own health. They were made outcasts, having to leave their families and friends and live outside the towns and villages. In the Gospel we see Christ treating the leper in a way that was totally different from how he was looked at by others. Christ sees a wounded soul looking for acceptance and healing. Ironically Christ ends up an outcast himself when word gets out that a leper has been healed. They gave him no peace.

The older I get the more I have come to realize that true spirituality is neither  about gathering grace nor scoring  bonus points  but simply learning to see in a new  way, to see as Christ sees. It’s all  about awareness.

 Fr. Richard Rohr has this to say:

‘Spirituality is about seeing. It’s not about earning or achieving. It’s about relationship rather than results or requirements. Once you see, the rest follows. You don’t need to push the river, because you are already in it’.

I received a wonderful example of this in an e mail from my friend Fr. Billy Ennis in Florida.  (I have put it on the home page and main news page of our parish website:www.holyfamily-parish.com). It’s about a young man having a bad morning on his way to work. We see him becoming stressed when a series of people annoy him by getting in his way. He is in such a rush we can almost hear his heart pumping.  We can identify with him.  Then he is given a special pair of glasses which let him see beneath the surface and what is going on in the lives of those he meets.  He now becomes aware that he is surrounded by broken people all with their own different issues and who just need to be loved. He is so overcome with compassion he changes his attitude. He is a new man. Please ‘beg, steal or borrow’ a computer and see it for yourself at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfeXxkbgCVE

I have never been so moved in years.

PLACES I HAVE- AND HAVEN’T -BEEN

I have been in many places, but I've never been in Cahoots.  Apparently, you can't go alone; you have to be in Cahoots with someone.

I've also never been in Cognito.  I hear no one recognizes you there

.

I have, however, been in Sane. They don't have an airport or train station; you have to be driven there.  I have made several trips, thanks to my friends, family and work.

I am having second thoughts about going to Conclusions because you have to jump, and it sounds like  too much  physical activity .

I have also been in Doubt. That is an uneasy place to be in, and I try to avoid it if possible.

I've been in Flexible, but try only to visit when it have to stand firm for truth or justice.

Sometimes I'm in Capable, and I go there more often as I'm getting older.

One of my favourite places to be is in Suspense! It really gets the adrenalin flowing and pumps up the old heart!  At my age I need all the stimuli I can get!

paddy@okanes.org

My friend and Job

 Last year a  good friend had a similar experience to the prophet Job. Firstly she   lost her long-time bridge partner to cancer.  Within a year  her husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and had to go into care. Of her three children one  son was discovered to be bi-polar , her other son was diagnosed with  leukaemia and  her  only daughter had to  emigrate.  After some hospital tests her doctor phoned to say ‘it’s time to put your affairs in order! Now even her own life was being taken from her.  When I heard that she was diagnosed with cancer I felt that, like Job in the first reading many of you heard last weekend,  she was being stripped of all she had.  Before she died she asked me over and over  the toughest question any priest can hear ‘How could a loving God do this to me? I have tried my best to be good- where did I go wrong?’ and she fought back angrily asking Him and me  the same questions up until she died. And I had no answer-all I could do was journey with her during that painful time and be there. Indeed I regret not being there more than I was.

Why does God let bad things happen to good people? – a question asked through the ages by all people and no one has ever given a satisfactory answer . Some resort to pious platitudes which  make you even more angry, like  a well-meaning lady I  once overheard in Strabane trying to comfort  a child  whose mother had  just died by saying  she had now  gone to heaven.  ‘**** heaven’ he replied ‘I need my mother here now.’

An Answer?

But there is an answer in another sense and we find it in the way Jesus responded to  the problem of suffering.  He did not accept the view that suffering was a punishment from God.  God does not do evil.  God does good.  What we see in the Gospel is not so much an answer to the question ‘why suffering?’ as Jesus’ own response to the suffering he saw in front of him.

That response was a practical one. In the Gospel we see Jesus surrounded by crowds of physically and mentally sick people.  And he gives himself to each of them, healing them one by one.  He didn’t insulate himself against human pain.  He made himself totally vulnerable before the wounded and the sick.

Jesus did not like to see people suffer.  Suffering was one of the evils he came to fight.  He had compassion on sufferers and made them well.  He cast out the devils of guilt, fear, shame and despair  that held people abound. The problem of suffering became an opportunity for Jesus to show the compassionate face of his Father.

The suffering of others is an opportunity for us  to show we  care.  And to care is  healing . Suffering is a lonely condition.   Just to be with the sufferer means that, instead of relieving someone’s pain, we are in some way, prepared to share it. By saying something like this   ‘I have nothing to give you but my time for my hands are empty. I am no doctor nor can I  cure you but I do offer you this reassurance that  I will nor desert you. I will stand on that ground  with you at the foot of the cross as Mary did at Calvary .’’

Simply to be there  is the answer for what  the sufferer longs most of all for is our  warmth and listening loving  presence.

Kathy and Fr. Joe

When Kathy spoke from my  pulpit many years ago about her pain  when she discovered her son  is gay she told us how hurtful the wrong response made her feel.  To those who tried to reassure her by saying ‘  don’t worry  –that’s no big deal nowadays’  she felt like screaming back ‘It would be a big deal to you if it was your son or daughter!’  What she needed, she said, was someone to put their arms around her and say ‘Kathy, please  tell me about it- let me   hear your  fears and  disappointment’. In other words, someone to be present  to her and try to share her suffering.

It reminds me of a story about Fr. Joe.  There was a fishing tragedy in Clonmany.  When the curate arrived Fr. Joe had already been in the house for some time.  He said little.  He just sat in the corner smoking .  (This happened long before passive smoke became unacceptable).  The young curate told me he was taught a lesson when his Fr. Joe was leaving.  The family remarked ‘Isn’t Fr. Joe great- he is such a comfort!’  He had the gift of presence and people loved him for it.

  It is a gift I do not have myself and have to work at it.  I become restless and uneasy after too long a time sitting  in the same place.  When I meet someone who needs a listening ear I have to make a conscious decision to be still and be fully present to the person in pain.  I should know that better  than most because during my own depression those friends who just listened unconditionally and  gave me their time are people I will be in debited to for the rest of my life for they walked the dark road with me as a companion .

So in summary getting back to my first question ‘is there an answer to the problem of suffering?’, yes, there is  - at the level of our compassionate response.

 There is  one at a faith level too, but  one not to be imposed .We must find for ourselves. The road of suffering is not the same since Jesus himself travelled it- right to the end. He gives us hope.  He shows us it does not end at Calvary but in the ultimate healing, the victory and the Alleluia of Easter joy.

Joke:

A man goes into a butchers shop.  ‘Can I have some of that meat on the top shelf’?

The butcher replies ‘I’m sorry you can’t’

 ‘Why?’ asks the man.  The butcher replies ‘The stakes are too high’

BEFORE THE ICEBERG

The Costa Concordia cost £400 million to build.The recent sinking of  this magnificent ship ,just off Italy’s Tuscan coast,has led to questions such as ‘how could this shining example of the best in modern maritime technology capsize so quickly with the loss of eleven lives and so many injured’? Some of you may have seen the Channel 4 programme on Tuesday night called ‘Terror at Sea’on this very issue. History seems to be repeating itself for it is the same question which was asked a hundred years ago when the Unsinkable Titanic sank.We will be hearing much more about that  epicvoyage during the coming year of  2012  which marks  the centenary of the tragedy.

In my column this week I refer it and the photographic evidence left to us by a young Jesuit priest.

‘The grandest of all ships I have seen.  I only wish I were going the whole way.’  That young Irish Jesuit who penned these words from the RMS Titanic was travelling from Southampton to Cherbourg and then to Queenstown, Co. Cork on the liner’s maiden voyage.   Father Frank Browne S.J. was due to disembark at the Irish port while the world’s largest ship sailed on to New York.

By good fortune, Fr. Browne befriended a wealthy American couple on board who offered to pay his passage to New York.  Then via the Titanic’s state-of-the-art wireless room he sent a telegram to his provincial in Dublin requesting permission to complete the journey.  When he arrived in Queenstown on 10^th April 1912 a telegram with the response awaited him.  It had five stark words: ‘Get off that ship!’

–Provincial.

[i.e. ‘the boss’].

Following the Titanic’s fatal collision with an iceberg in the North Atlantic four days later, Fr. Browne put the telegram into his wallet and kept it there for the rest of his life.  ‘It was the only time holy obedience ever saved a man’s life’ he would say.

The Provincial’s order ensured that Fr. Browne, and the unique photographic record of the first and last voyage of the ill-fated liner that he made while aboard, survived one of the great maritime disasters of all time.  His Titanic photographs now stand as a visual memorial to the ship’s passengers and crew, of whom more than 1,500 or two thirds of those aboard perished 100 years ago. 

His images of the ship’s accommodation and passengers have been pored over by maritime historians, engineers and film-makers seeking answers to a tragedy that still grips the public’s imagination.

Who was he?

Born in Cork in 1880, Francis Browne was entrusted when he was nine to the care of his uncle, Bishop Robert Browne of Cloyne, following the death of his parents.  It was Bishop Browne who gave the young Frank his first camera, and who in 1909, took his nephew on a trip to Rome, where they had a private audience with Pope Pius X.

He studied classics at the then Royal University in Dublin where he was a contemporary of James Joyce. [The writer later featured the young seminarian as ‘Mr Browne the Jesuit’ in his masterpiece Finnegan’s Wake.]  During his theology studies, Frank’s uncle presented him with a ticket for that part of the Titanic’s maiden voyage from Southampton to Queenstown later renamed Cobh.

The Marconi Room

Frank Browne was the only person to ever photograph the Marconi Room and other locations such as the bridge- his images were used by film director James Cameron to reconstruct sets for his blockbuster filmTitanic.

The photograph of the Marconi Room is probably the most valuable in the collection.  There is no other record of it – not even Harland and Wolff had a photograph.  Nobody would have been rescued were it not for Marconi’s invention. Apart from showing what it looked like, the photograph is a record of the location from where the distress messages were sent out which brought along the Carpathia which took four hours to reach the Titanic. Bythis  stage it was too late to save all on board.   Only 710 people survived.  The sinking of the Titanic created a huge demand for images of the ill-fated vessel and Fr. Browne’s photographs appeared in publications around the world.

Many efforts were made to find theship’s wreckage over the years untilfinally Robert Ballard located the in September 1985, the same month that Fr. O’Donnell discovered a treasure trove of Fr. Fr. Browne’s photographs in the Jesuits’ headquarters   in Dublin.  Some 41,632 nitrate-based negatives ‘all beautifully annotated’, making them a huge archival resource has been hidden in a trunk in the basement.

Fr. Brown’s later Life

Following ordination in July 1915, Fr. Browne became a military chaplain the Irish Guardsin 1916 and served with the 2^nd Battalion during the First World War.  He was awarded the Military Cross  and the French Croix De Guerre for his bravery.  His commanding officer, Harold Alexander, described the Jesuit as ‘the bravest man I ever met’.

He later travelled all over the world as missionary taking photographs wherever he went.Back in Ireland from 1938 onwards he was part of the Jesuit mission team and this gave him the chance to visit every county in the country.   He has left this and future generations a wonderful archive of the past.There are another 32 books on Fr. Browne in the pipeline together with the Titanic Albumjust published to mark the centenary later this year.

Quotes of the week:

‘Inside every older person, there’s a young person, wondering what happened!’

……

‘It’s tough to be at the age at which, when you go all out, you end up all in!’

……

‘Most of us have minds like concrete: mixed up or permanently set!’

Alzheimer’s has been described as ‘the long, slow goodbye’. As I have already told you, my father has it. What I find difficult is his silence.  He just looks at me and smiles.  No need for words.  For him it’s enough, but not for me. I need more so I will sometimes say something provocative   just to get a response.  For example, recentlyI told him that some of my Christmas cards came with the stamps unmarked.  ‘Would it be O.K. to use these again?’ I asked.  ‘Most certainly not. That’s stealing’ was his reply. ‘Have you still not learned to always do the right thing?  Sometimes I go too far and say something that really annoys him (such as ‘would you think of getting married again?’).Then he will scold me saying have a ‘titter of wit-never and let me hear you say that again.’ Or, if he catches on that  I am not being serious and he does not want to answer he will look out the window  say, with a glint in his eye, ‘I think it’s going to rain’.  Or the time I said ‘Daddy, I have a good joke about Confession.’ ‘I don’t want to hear it’, he said‘never joke about holy things’. When I tell him reassuringlythat you only tease those you love he will reply to my surprise ‘thank you for saying that, I love you too’. At times like these I wonder if he has dementia at all.

Sacrament of Confirmation

But getting back to his response,’always do the right thing’, this is a phrase I now use with my four Confirmation classes.  I put the letters A. D.T .R. T. on the (white) board and ask if they can work out what it means.  Sometimes I give these letters as an art homework   and offer small prizes for the bestefforts  just to burn the letters into their consciousness .And conscience.

 I love ‘The Simpsons’. I use Bart Simpson as an example - sometimes there is an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other, both whispering into his ear and telling him what to do, both trying to win him over.  This leads to the notion of conscience – this inner voice that guides you telling you the difference between right and wrong. And the struggle to try and do what is right. For knowing the difference is only half the battle – the  decision to act, made in free will, is ultimately what counts.

 
Puppets on a string?

Sometimes I bring in a little puppet.I make him move across the room and  shake their hands by pulling the strings.  God gave us the gift of free will when he made us and there are no strings attached to us.We can choose to be good or bad, to make life happier or sadder for others.  It’s all about inner strength coming as gift from the Holy Spirit. And it’s at this time in their lives that inner strength will be needed. It takes a lot of courage to resist peer group pressure during their coming teenage years.

 I was in the Confirmation classes today to tell the children and teachers thatBishop Hegarty has been being replaced by Monsignor Martin as celebrant.It is just a month away. I told the children that when confronted by pressure to smoke a ‘joint’ , drink under age , to steal or do something wrong,just say ‘please respect my ‘no’’. If they continue to insist you may need to find new friends. And that can be hard.

Deregulation

Some say that the cause of the present economic crisis goes back to the Thatcher/ Reagan era when financial deregulation was the policy. It works on the principle that people have enough integrity to do the right thing. Perhaps it expected too much and greed took over. The media is still deregulated.  The recent phone hacking scandal on Britain and the Prime Time story on Fr. Kevin Reynolds called this trust into question. Someone once said that ‘more exterior policemen are needed the fewer inner policemen we have’. It is all about living a life of integrity and according to a conscience enlightened by God’s word.

REFLECTIONS:

 The only edition of the Gospel most people are likely to read is you.
……..
The parts of the New Testament which I don’t understand don’t worry me too much;  it’s the parts I do understand which worry me.
…..
Happy are those who dream dreams and are prepared to pay the price to make them come true.
…..
Joke:A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to hospital.  When his father arrived and asked how his son was doing, the nurse replied, ‘stillno change ’.

 Help! I got a TV dongle as a Christmas present. Can anyone show me  how to use it please?

paddy@okanes.org

A priest friend died recently.I once heard him tell this story in public.

He had returned to his diocese after a leave of absence.  A new bishop had been appointed in the meantime and he sent for him.

‘Please explain these missing years’ he said. ‘I notice ashort gap in your CV.’

‘Well it is like this ‘he replied. ‘I could not function with integrity as a priest during that time for I had temporarily lost my faith.’

‘Thanks be to God’, replied the bishop, ‘for a moment I feared it might have been a woman!’

 Personally I think that there are worse things that can befall a priest than temporarily losing his faith or indeed falling in love. In fact these can make him more human and compassionate, less full of himself as he comes to terms with his ownhuman weakness. I would be more worried about things such as arrogance, selfishness or hard heartedness.

 This God I try my best to believe in often plays ‘hide and seek’ with me too. There are times when he is close and prayer is easy. Others when he is so distant my prayer is arid and I struggle. Desert times. I have already told you about my depression many years ago when I held on to my faith by a thread. The only prayer that had any meaning at that time was that of Christ on the cross ‘my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ Looking back now I realise that this utter abandonment to his mercy was indeed a time of testing andgenuine prayer in its purest bleakest form. Many people have told me over the years of their own dark   times of despair when they were bereft of all consolation and God seemed so remote.

Last Wednesday I went to my monthly Charles De Foucaultprayer meeting here in Thornhill. I have been doing so since my early years as a priest. About half a dozen of us share a few hours in camaraderie, prayer and honest soul searching. We have freedom to express honestly where we are at in the struggle of our faith journey. Speaking for myself I find it supportive and I look forward to meeting my friends at the beginning ofevery month. The others say the same. Never has there been a greater need than now for priests to meet and encourage each other so we are indeed blessed.

 Sometimes I email them articles that   help me and perhaps might interest them. After ChristmasI sent them the comment below by Father Richard Rohr. I am a subscriber to his website and receive his daily reflection. At our last gathering   I explained to them why I sent it as it meant so much to me.

 I had been going through another faith struggleand could not help torturing myself with ‘what if?’ questions. They listened supportively. What if there is no God? If all this stuff is only an illusion? Perhaps Richard Dawkins is right. How could God, the maker of this vast and beautiful universe, come to earth and be born from a woman as we are? It is all so unbelievable! Then I told them how,  I  read the  Fr. Rohr article ,printed below, a few days after Christmas,and  I was able to  let go of my anguish.I slowly began to understand that the Incarnation is not a puzzle to be worked out but a mystery to relax into and fall in love with.

INCARNATION:A HUMAN WOMAN IS THE MOTHER OF GOD, AND GOD IS THE SON.OF A HUMAN MOTHER!

Do we have any idea what this sentence is saying, what it means, or what it might imply?!

 Is it really true? If it is, then we are living in an entirely different universe than we imagine, or even can imagine. If the major division between Creator and creature can be overcome, then all others can be overcome too.

To paraphrase Oswald Chambers, “this is a truth that dumbly struggles in us for utterance!” It is too much to be true and too good to be true. So we can only resort to metaphors, images, poets, music, and artists of every stripe. Five days after Christmas, we are still struggling for utterance.

What most of us do, myself included, is to stop thinking about it.

Divine incarnation is not what you think! In fact, you can’t think it at all.

You can only fall into it and give thanks in all directions.’

‘And the word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14)’

Thought for the week

‘Mental floss regularly with God’s word to avoid truth decay’

It was midnight, wet and windy and I was getting ready for bed. I was on my ‘day off’ but also looking after the Long Tower Parochial House in Abercorn Road to give the priests there a short break. The doorbell rang and I went to answer it in my bare feet.  It was an unfortunate man who was drunk and looking for money.   As I was listening to his plight I heard the spring- loaded door click shut behind me.  Suddenly I was homeless and helpless with neither keys nor money.  What was I to do at that late hour? I thought of a voluntary church worker whom I hoped might have a key so I ran to a local taxi rank through the heavy rain where the driver was shocked to see a wet and shoeless priest jump inside.  I asked him to drive me to the woman’s home.  When I arrived I asked her for a loan to pay for the taxi.  I discovered she had no key either.  However she kindly, offered me a room for the night and drove me back next morning.

My recent Christmas incident about the homeless and suicidal man to whom I gave refuge and who subsequently robbed me, brought back to my mind that brief episode of homelessness, loneliness and panic I experienced roughly four years ago.  It ‘took wings’ and resulted in several radio interviews, even to a Gospel station in London.

  It also made me more aware of the many people doing great work for those without homes in our community.  I think of First Trust Housing which I visited recently and was impressed by their role of offering homes to vulnerable young people.  I think of places such as the Simon Community, the Methodist Mission at Crawford square, Damien House, Clarendon Shelter and Foylevalley House which welcome in the homeless and all deserve our support. Claude’s Café, here in Shipquay Street provides a free meal every Christmas for those who have nowhere to go at  this   family time of the year.  The owners, I am told, even serve the meals. 

I received many different responses to my recent incident, some saying I was foolish and put my life and reputation at risk. I know these critical remarks come from a lovingly protective  concern.  I also received a supportive call from a Mr. Stitt in Coleraine.  He had walked the roads of Ireland, as an ‘alcoholic hobo’ he told me, for many years and went on to say how he will always remember those who showed him hospitality and kindness.  He eventually ‘kicked the booze’, got his life together, became a minister of the church and obtained a doctorate in theology.  I have asked him to send me his full story so I can share it with you.

However, next time I answer the door late at night I will make sure I have my shoes on!

Laughing in the face of death!

I was with some friends one day,   two of whom were priests, when someone , reflecting on the shortness of life, said to  us

 ‘When you're in your coffin, and those  at the wake are mourning over you, what would you like them to say?'

Joe said ‘I would like them to say ‘he was a wonderful priest, a fine spiritual leader, and a great church man. He worked tirelessly for his people.’’

Philip commented: ‘I would like them to say: ‘he was a wonderful teacher and servant of God who made a huge difference in people's lives. He was always on his knees praying.  We all loved him’’.

All I said was  the only remark I would like them to make is this 'Look, he's moving!'

‘’DEAR LORD, Help me  during the coming year to find serenity in a world I may not always understand.  May my resilience from the pains I have known and the wounds I have suffered give me the strength each day to face every situation with courage and hope.  May I see graced moments in everything I experience, both good and bad and always know that there are those whose love and understanding will always be there, even when I feel most alone.

Do not let my life slip through my fingers by carrying burdens from the past or fearsfor the future. May I savour every second of everyday,living them one at a time. Aware of my own blessings, may I bless everyone who comesinto my presence.

Let me remember the rainbow when the storm seems unending.  Give me the strength to offer love to those who hate me- even if it is rejected.

 Like those  rays of sunlight  I used to see breaking through the clouds on a dull day  on Lough Foyle may Idiscover goodness at unexpected moments.  May a kind word, a reassuring touch and a warm smile be mine every day of this coming year and mayI give these gifts as well as receive them. Help me to remember that life is not a race but to slow down and to cherish every step on the journey.

Lord, may I find time each day to see your beauty and love in this amazing world you have given us and praise you for it.Let me not take for granted my family and friends and those close to my heart.

This New Year is full of possibilities-an adventure into the unknown- so let me travel forward with the confidence that comes from knowing you are by my side and I  need never worry nor be afraid, for indeed you are with  me always , The Way, The Truth and The Life. Amen.’’

While the commercial Christmas Season seems to start after Halloween,or even earlier with some shops, and ends when Christmas begins, for the church liturgically it begins on Christmas Day and ends this Friday 6th January, the Feast of the Epiphany.

So before we say goodbye to this season of ‘mirth good will’ again, let me recall with you someamusing incidents that I have come across over the years.

This is the story told to me recently by a father who had a glimpse at his son’s letter to Santa .

 ‘Dear Santa,  I have been good all year, most of the time’[a good start!’] I would like an X Box this year.  If your elves can’t make one, you can find it on Amazon’!

Then there was our open crib incident: I saw a young boy creep into the crib, then   he shook hand with Jesusand before he left took a ride on the donkey’s back!

During a Nativity Play: the boy acting the role of the inn- keeper had a soft heart.  When Joseph asked for lodgings for the night he took pity on him and Mary(as I did with the homeless man I mentioned last week!)  He said‘Comeon in.’However,the boy playing Joseph saved the plot.  After a good look around inside hesaid‘Mary this place is a ‘kip’- we would be better off in that stable!’

Finally, this year when the local Irish speaking school children were finishing the nativity play during our parish Carol Service, one young boy gave me his staff or shepherd’s crook to hold and ran off the sanctuary. I smiled and the people laughed.  They enjoyed the irony of the incident as we are waiting in our diocese for a new bishop and they saw the humour in the unlikely possibility of me carrying a bishop’s crozier!

Now, in case Monsignor Charley Brown, the new Papal Nuncio, reads this weekly column let me add this:  I also happen to see no problem with the ordination of women as priests.  And I think that the men who have left the priesthood to marry should be invited back into ministry.
 That’s just a start and should end all further speculation!

You rang the parochial house doorbell several timesaround  5.00am on Sunday morning.  Eventually they woke me up.  When I opened the door you were so distraught and forlorn that I took pity on you.You were cold and wet and welcomed you in.  As we talked over a warmcup of tea you told me you were ‘heading for the bridge’ to end your sad and miserable life.  I could almost touch your despair.  Your family and girlfriend had locked you out, you told me,  and you had been walking the streets in the rain all night. The more I listened the more my heart went out to you.  You were homeless at Christmas, ringing wet and looked so pale, sick and desperate.Having had depression myself I could identify with you the ‘dark hole’ you said you were in.

These thoughts crossed my mind as I listened to your pain.  Firstly, if I do not offer this man a bed for the night how can I live with myself if tomorrow I hear in the news that another body has been reclaimed from the Foyle. How indeed can I pray with sincerity for the homeless if I turn away some who genuinely seems so ?

Another thought was this:‘I am privileged for Christ has visited my home this Christmas’.  No, it was more than a thought- it was a convictionfor if this Christian faith I profess to believe in means anything to me it means I welcome you without judgement.

So after I prayed with you, I put you up for the night.  I must admit that when I heard you going downstairs just after we said ‘good night’ I became concerned about how long you were staying there and anxious about what you were looking for.  That is why I got up to check on you.  You told me you needed a drink of water.

You slept well.  In fact you did not get up until after one o’clock.  I offered you something to eat but all you accepted was a cup of tea and toast.  You were so appreciative of my hospitality and before you left ataround 2.30pm you asked for a blessing and promised me you would go to see a doctor for you depression. I even offered to get the appointment for you. I pleaded with you to come back in a few days and tell me how you were getting on. I offered to be your friend.

Well John, when later I went to the drawer where I keep my money I found a large sum of money missing, not my money but deposits for a pilgrimage next year, but which I will have to  repay.  John, I know you took it as you were the only one near my office.  I felt sick and angry at first.  You seemed such a gentleman. You asked for a blessing before you left and said I had saved your life. I keep asking myself how could you repay my welcome, kindness and trust in this way? I was traumatised.
As time goes by, however, I have received the grace to forgive you.   I have no resentment .I have now discovered who you may be and your story of prison,robbery and homelessness. You are a broken man. Seek help – please! You can, with God’s grace, turn things around no matter what your past holds. Start a new life.
 
And do you know something?  I still believe Christ visited me this Christmas.