Jim Cogley: Reflections Tues 26 Mar – Mon 1 April 2024
Holy Week ceremonies will be available online at ourladysisland.ie
Holy Thursday 7.30
Good Friday 3pm
Holy Sat 7pm
Many thanks and a happy Easter, Jim C
Entering the way of the cross – Tessa Gallagher UK
Tue 26th March – Suffering
I have lived a life surrounded by death, heartache, disappointment and struggle. I need guidance to overcome this. This is the case for the rest of humankind, the lives of some being more difficult and perplexing as any I have known. However unpalatable it is, one thing is clear, suffering is part of life. Jesus suffered. Two such human words; they are also two words which can guide us through the unbearable burdens of life. Believing that God is both absent and present can save us from being destroyed by suffering.
Steadfast God, thank you for those who stand by me on my Calvary journey.
Help me to draw near, with compassionate seeing, to others in times of pain.
Wed 27th March – Falling
Carrying the weight of our cross can cause us to stumble and fall. When we do, we need arms to stretch out, to steady us, to lift us up. We look for a presence to hear our cries, to catch our tears. We long to see the face of compassion, mercy and forgiveness. The pain felt beneath the cross and on the cross is excruciating. The ones hanging there, and the loyal companions who stand and wait, die together. Golgotha is a place of powerlessness, of emptiness where hope diminishes.
Beloved Jesus, when I fall under the weight of unrealistic expectations, when giving up seems an easy solution, give me the resolve and courage to get up and start again.
Holy Thurs 28th March – Condemned
It must have been horrific with the jostling crowds shouting, baying for blood intent on murder. So much violence around the attack on the nonviolent Jesus. He challenged people all of his life and they hated the Jesus who knew no boundaries. They stripped him to humiliate Jesus who condemned systems of oppression, systems that excluded women, the Jesus who broke any law that lacked love. The faithful and resilient women went with him all the way to the cross.
Naked Jesus, when I am stripped of my garments of pride, lust, status and privilege, reclothe me in simple and plain garments, so to live in you, with fidelity and purity of heart.
Good Friday 29th March – Crucified
Jesus an innocent victim carried a heavy cross. Mercilessly they nailed him to the cross. As he hung there he cried out, ‘Why have you forsaken me’? Right to the end he was the face of compassion and forgiveness. I don’t understand how this was possible. Brave women, his sorrowful mother waited at the foot of the cross. They witnessed unimaginable suffering. The agony of the cross was not the end. Death did not win the final victory.
Crucified Christ, help me to clearly see when I condemn and crucify others. Hang on to me as I gaze at my inner self. Weep with me as I seek to offer forgiveness and ask for forgiveness.
Holy Saturday 30th March – Died
I remember every detail about when loved ones died, others may remember too. The world in general won’t. The memories are in my heart alone, naked and raw. Death is so final. None of us will escape death. When Jesus died, hope died too. All seemed lost, all seemed to have failed. What was the point and meaning of life? Jesus was placed in a tomb. Beyond our tomb time, which can be a long time of waiting, new life can emerge.
The joy of sorrow.
You told us to weep for ourselves and our children.
To lose a child whether a son or a daughter
Means finding a way to breathe under water.
You can drown in the ocean of sorrow and grief
The waves are relentless the breaks far too brief.
When the struggle goes on and you want to give in
It seems that a voice calls from somewhere within.
Don’t quit you are loved and can move through this pain
You’ve been here before you can surface again.
I promise to hold you and catch your sad tears
I will wait in the darkness to calm all your fears.
Grief suffering and loss don’t have to destroy
“The deeper the sorrow, the greater the joy.”
Victorious Christ, raise me to new life, resurrect me from my dead places, and awaken my dormant spirit.
Easter Sunday 31st March – Easter
There are many symbols of Easter that we are familiar with. Probably the best known in the commercial world is the Easter egg with its outer shell representing the tomb and the shell needing to be broken for new life to emerge. Then we have the Easter bunny going back to pre-Christian times when they had the feast of Eostre and the pagan god was represented as a rabbit. The one I like best is the butterfly, which before it can find its wings has to undergo an incredible process of transformation. The little caterpillar as it comes to the end of its life cycle spins a cocoon around itself that is like a death shroud. Inside that tomb its old identity completely dissolves to the point of becoming like liquid. Then at the right time stirrings of life appear out of this soup and a beautiful butterfly emerges and flies away. All of this is nature’s depiction of the death and resurrection of Christ.
The Greek word for butterfly is psyche, that means soul, and it is widely believed that the soul of a loved one who has departed sometimes offers reassurance to loved ones by appearing in the form of a butterfly especially at the time of a funeral. This we have probably all seen, where even completely out of season, a butterfly appears in church and sometimes first lands on the coffin and then moves down to the seat of the chief mourners or flies up onto the altar.
A few Sundays ago, there was a remarkable performance by a butterfly at a remembrance mass in Kilmore Quay for a priest who had been very well known in the area all his life. He had been buried in Seattle the previous week but it was appropriate that his life should be celebrated in the birthplace of his mother and where he came home to every summer.
Dying at 87 Tony had lived a remarkable life. Born during the blitz in London he first served as a royal marine in Cyprus. Then he trained as a teacher and at the time when he was being head-hunted as a professional soccer player he joined a monastery and became a monk. He was a talker and so a life of silence wasn’t for him so he left and joined the Salesian Order. With them he served in Germany and South Africa. Because he objected to Apartheid he ended up in prison and the government said that either he leaves the country or the entire Salesian order would have to leave. So he left and ended up in Idaho working in a remote country parish with a log cabin for a church. A city boy at heart he then moved to Seattle where he was appointed to the San Juan Islands. He was a trained pilot and used to fly his plane from Island to Island between masses. One summer the famous chef in Mary Barry’s Nicky Cullen and myself swapped parishes with him which was quite an experience. Later he moved back to Seattle where he became chaplain at the International Airport and was in charge of the Seamen’s Mission. Then along with working in parish he set up a night watch service to get homeless off the streets at night and he also established a massive charity for providing thousands of daily meals to the poor of Seattle. He was so well known and respected that one year he was chosen as the Grand Master for the St Patrick’s Day Parade.
What I am going to tell you is the account of what happened as experienced by around two hundred people who were present at the service that morning. Because our lives had overlapped for twenty-eight years I was asked to take the service. At the opening prayer I made reference to Fr Tony being very much with us in spirit. Then as I moved back from the altar, right into the place where I had been standing, flew this beautiful butterfly. I watched with interest as he walked around and made reference to its presence when I began to give the homily. To show everybody I picked it up and placed it on the altar. Then to my disappointment it just keeled over apparently dead. By picking it up I thought I had killed him. At some point I made a reference to Tony being a son of the Sony Haycock the famous soccer player at Arsenal. Down the church I heard a whisper that alerted me to having made a mistake with the club so I asked to which he had belonged to and was told Aston Villa and both clubs were great rivals. The moment I mentioned Aston Villa the butterfly came alive, got on his feet and began to clap his wings. It was an uncanny performance that sent shivers down people’s spines.
As the Mass continued the butterfly flew down to the front of the altar and began to walk around on the very spot that Tony would have prostrated himself as a symbol of service fifty-three years earlier when he was ordained in that very church. Tony was also a lovely singer and guitar player who every summer would teach the musicians there some new songs. One that became associated with him was ‘Come to the table of plenty.’ After communion a relative stood up to sing that hymn and immediately the butterfly took flight and hovered over his head. Next, he hovered around the chapel as various people shared memories of Tony as a way of celebrating his life.
I then went to the front to collect the roving mike and before returning one of the choir said, ‘Be careful as you turn around, you might step on him. He’s right behind you’. I looked around and there he was on the step. For some reason I held out the brochure with Tony’s photo on the front and the butterfly just hopped up and landed beside the photograph. There it remained and I was able to hold it up for everyone to see and say, ‘Can you believe this?’ They could not but believe because the whole scenario had unfolded before everyone’s eyes and for the entire service. For those whose faith was weak it must have been like getting a jump-start and afterwards in the Community Hall a few were slagging me as to how well I had trained the butterfly. Others were saying that it was by far the most remarkable service they had ever attended. For me it was a stellar performance of a butterfly that had traced so many aspects of Tony’s life that it would be very hard not to believe that he was truly present in spirit at that lovely celebration of his remarkable life.
Easter Monday 1st April – Risen
Scriptures tell us that “The tomb was empty.” On the third day, Jesus it seemed had defeated death. He was transformed. The witnesses all saw him differently when he “appeared” to them. He was the same but different. On the third day which is usually much longer than three days, transformation happens for us. We too experience our resurrections and life is never the same. Jesus rose, so must we, to begin again. ‘We are Easter people and alleluia is our cry’, St Augustine proclaims.
Risen Christ, my Easter world is filled with plentiful gifts, lead me to taste and see your goodness, and the wonders of each new day.
Alleluia.