Séamus Ahearne: MAY THE NOURISHMENT OF THE EARTH BE YOURS. MAY THE PROTECTION OF THE ANCESTORS BE YOURS. AND SO MAY A SLOW WIND, WORK THESE WORDS OF LOVE, AROUND YOU; AN INVISIBLE CLOAK TO MIND YOU. (John O Donoghue.)
THE COLOUR OF AUTUMN
These days. The wind. The rain. The last hurrah of the trees. The colourful leaves are attention seeking. It is quite beautiful. I sometimes miss out on the wonder of the season, when I think of the winter coming so fast. My body doesn’t like the cold. It shivers. The moment is Autumn: The Anglicans used to be so good at celebrating The Harvest Thanksgiving. I think we have learned from them. The displays are magnificent. The fruits. The produce of nature. The vegetables. The leaves. The gifts of everyone. I have come from Mass in Canice’s. The whole Sanctuary is bulging with harvest. What was brought to the Table? What everyone person brings to the Table of life? Our own Harvest. The gift of the past. The gift and colour of everyone. The Celebration of our ancestors. The display of our families. Of our Community. Of our neighbours. Of our friends. It is a feast. It is a feast of goodness. Of graciousness. Of kindness. Of love. Of heart. Our thanksgiving (our Eucharist) is made very real and normal and everyday. This is Good News. It confronts all the harbingers of doom and negativity. The Blessedness of Autumn.
WE ARE ON A MISSION
The Harvest links rather well with Mission weekend. We have been dislodged from the old meaning of Mission. It is no longer foreign. The mission is here. The missionaries are local. We are the missionaries. We are all ‘sent.’ Everyone is a glimpse and revelation of God. We have been ‘anointed.’ ‘Christened.’ Special envoys. All unique messengers of the divine. What then is our harvest in spreading the news; our Mission from God? It is fascinating how drab and passive our Liturgies can be, compared to some other countries. So often Liturgy is ceremonial, constrained by rubrics and ritual. The ‘Presentation of Gifts.’ If only it was that. The Bread and Wine might be brought up. I think of the dancing crowds up the aisles in Nigeria and in South America. The Harvest is there. The mission is celebrated. The Table is real. The sterile ceremonial hasn’t squeezed the guts out of the Ritual. Even the Synod in Rome have now come to the realisation that everyone has to sit at a Table rather than passively face the TOP TABLE. The Pope too has to be at a TABLE and not the HEAD ONE. We have some learning to do. We have a mission of gratitude; of hope; of wonder; of beauty; of surprise; of laughter. All that dead formality and passive celebrations have to be allowed to die off.
THE FLOODS
I reached the Tolka this morning. The swans were on the pond. The waters on the road had subsided. I didn’t have to swim through. Dublin got some rain but nothing like down South. Young Indi was delighted. She had to be brought home by tractor. Clashmore was flooded. She thought this was great. She had always wanted to be a farmer. Her mother was less enamoured. Her father and uncle were very ingenious in plotting their way home by some very circuitous routes. (From Waterford and Cork). Or were they? Very stubborn and foolish not to stay where they were! Or those were the comments of the women!!
RUGBY AND FOOTBALL
How did England get there? All of Ireland surely were crying on Saturday evening as South Africa scored that penalty and won. All of us were further reminded of Ireland being held up just short of the line with New Zealand. We thought of our team as almost invincible. They played their part. However, the World Cup lost something precious when France and Ireland went out. Bobby Charlton has died. His story has been told with great affection. He was a great footballer but was also much more than that. Our own Jack and himself weren’t close. It wasn’t helped by their mother being distant from Bobby and even more from his wife. However, Bobby made a wonderful contribution to children all over the world as he set up projects in many countries.
HAMAS; ISRAEL; PALESTINE
Matthew Paul Miller (Matisyahu) called some 3000 people together in Haifa – Moslems and Jews. To sing a song. ‘One Day.’ They learned to sing; to harmonise in three languages expressing unity and beauty. Some of the words are:
One day, one day, one day
Sometimes I lay under the moon,
And thank God I’m breathin’
Then I pray, “Don’t take me soon
‘Cause I am here for a reason”
Sometimes in my tears I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know someday, it’ll all turn around because
All my life, I’ve been waitin’ for;
I’ve been prayin’ for, for the people to say
That we don’t wanna fight no more,
There’ll be no more wars, and our children will play.
I heard that this happened last week but of course it didn’t; the Concert took place in 2020. That Concert is needed now. The madness of war. The chaos of war. The destruction in war. The deaths and the injuries. (Some 1400 dead in Israel; some 5000 dead in Palestine). The movement of people. The sadness and craziness of it all. Hamas didn’t start it. They are the immediate cause of it. But there is a long unresolved history. It is an easy question to ask – how could Hamas unleash on their own people such devastation? They started a war that they cannot win.
Hezbollah hovers in Lebanon. Iran is arming Hamas and Hezbollah. Who then is arming the Israelis? Where does all the money come from, for rockets, guns and explosives? And the poor get poorer. However the pain of the past; the imprisonment for years of the Palestinians, ensures that an explosion had to take place. The volcano had to erupt. Where is the UN? Where are the Political Leaders in the world who can call people together? It is easy to despair of humanity. While this goes on, the Russian bullies continue to bombard and destroy the Ukraine. The Americans are hardly much of an exemplar for democracy. Augustine has often been blamed for Original Sin as a clumsy and crude effort to explain humanity’s inclination towards badness. It is hard not to drift into that mentality at present. Matthew Fox tried to rescue us all with ‘Original Blessing.’ That hardly works at present either. We still have to celebrate the saints of our times where grace thrives and the smile of God is more obvious.
HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO
Brendan Hoban has written another book. ‘Holding Out for a Hero.’ (The long wait for Pope Francis). He has celebrated his Golden Jubilee of priesthood. (As I have). He is still a young fellow – only 75. I am pleased to see my friend Pádraig Daly featuring liberally. (Pádraig did say that Brendan had many wise things to say and had fabulous chapters on denial.) Brendan clearly enthused on the freedom of Vatican 2 and hoped to see the Spirit flourishing. Instead, he found a long winter of 40 years. That winter is now fading into a summer of sunshine and hope. Francis has become the new John 23rd. And more. Much more. The Synod is a revolution. The simplicity of Francis’ expression of faith is wonderful. Yes. Brendan and myself, have served our time and are still talking! One hundred years of ministry.
‘I have done the State some service, and they know it.’ (As Charlie Haughey said in his resignation 1992,while he dipped into Othello). We have. Indeed. Brendan has. His voice has been powerful. I suppose the meaning of priesthood is to use ‘the voice.’ That is the ‘mission.’ He has done so. Priesthood has been restricted by a version evolved over the years. Brendan has railed against that. Well done Brendan and above all – thank you. The winter of discontent (78/79) in the UK is often mentioned. Brendan’s book speaks of a longer version of winter. John Steinbeck wrote in 1961 The Winter of our Discontent (taking a line from Richard 111). Winter is now over for Brendan. I never experienced the Winter as he did. But I recognise what he writes about.
THE DANCE OF FAITH
Strictly Come Dancing. This programme fascinates many people. I even have a glance myself when I can. The ‘darling’ stuff gets on my nerves. The ‘best time of my life’ seems rather extravagant which is often the cant, from many of the participants. However, Rose Ayling-Ellis and Hamza Yassin were delightful winners in previous years. They were brilliant. Now here is the thing: Could we put on a show of priests stretching the muscles of their faith to show off the dance of their lives? We have to do something ridiculous to express how the divine dance of life has to be celebrated. Priest are too quiet and too shy. Their voice is needed now. Not just the words of the usual suspects.
Seamus Ahearne osa
24th October 2023.