Similar Posts
Irish wakes were never meant to be like this …
Brendan Hoban says that “The corona virus has robbed us of many things, including our freedom and almost our hope, but the experience of dealing with the death and funeral obsequies of those we love adds an unconscionable burden at the present time.”
NCR Exclusive: Vatican’s abuse expert says ending priestly celibacy could prevent a ‘double life’
by JOSHUA J. MCELWEE One of the Catholic Church’s leading doctrinal officials has reiterated his unusual call for the global institution to consider ending its millennia-long requirement that priests remain…
ACP ZOOM: Synodal Pathway – What’s Next? with Julieann Moran, Tues 27 June 2023 @ 7.00pm. All welcome.
ACP Zoom guest speaker, Julieann Moran, General Secretary for the Synodal Pathway, will discuss where the Synodal Pathway (Ireland) and the Universal Synod are at present. Julieann has just returned…
‘Rather than saying that the Church has a mission, we affirm that Church ‘is’ mission.’
Sean O’Conaill argues that without official rejection of a mistaken medieval understanding of ‘redemption’ the call to mission is futile. Those are just two of 110 occurrences of the word mission in…
The Dawn Chorus
Seamus Ahearne casts his eyes about on recent happenings.
“May all of us catch the light and begin our song. May the chorus of life – dawn on us daily. Let’s sing our song.”Rev Pádraig McCarthy, RIP
The ACP Leadership regrets to note the death of Pádraig McCarthy, Dublin, RIP. Pádraig was a regular contributor to the ACP website. To quote one colleague: Pádraig quite often took…


Christmas Eve
I stood before plastic faces painted cream
With a touch of red and each head bowed to a dry straw floor
And each face frozen in time. I see wise kings,
Benevolent to children , safe men in bright plastic
Positioned before a child wrapped in straw ,
Tiny arms forever reaching out to whoever calls.
There is a Shepard standing with sheep frozen in time.
They followed from the hills safe in his care
And know nothing of the unfolding story.
It is winter aroud the wooden stable
And silent as the empty cardboard box
Which held the crib, cold as the attic from which it came ;
The dry straw , still yellow in old age is strewn
On the stable floor with stray strands sticking to a tufted carpet.
There is a cow and a donkey whose body heat
And warm breath are reported to bring comfort to the newborn child.
I see now those sleeping in city doorways :
lonely doorways where kings never tread,
where few touch their outstretched hands
and bitter winds wrap broken bodies.
I look again at a plastic child with arms outstretched.
Mary Christmas to all !
Greetings and Blessings from Bavaria, south Germany.
Fr. M. S.
Have a Christ-Filled Christmas and a Grace-Filled New Year
Pray for us – we are now public in support of the global lawsuit ‘youth v. gov’ in a region heavily reliant on the fossil fuel industry so this is heavily political subject matter.
Merry Christmas! In 2019, let’s rise to new levels in this elaborate dream.