Séamus Ahearne: “Keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life’s a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.” ― Marilyn Monroe

Losing Confidence:

I have lost confidence in myself. How could I misread the mind of so many? Why am I so stupid, in understanding how and why people behave in such ways? Maybe I am simply naïve.

Can you believe it?

I can’t make sense of why the people of the USA could have voted for Donald Trump. It is beyond me. This is not even a comment on Donald, but rather on those who did the voting. I can’t make sense of why the UK voted for Brexit. I can’t make sense of why the Tory Party voted in Boris Johnson,or Liz Truss.

Angry speech:

I see our own Election has begun. The Dáil that was going to run its full course, or so we were told, has now ended. I will probably be surprised here too at some of the stray candidates that will be elected. Something is happening among us. Noise appears to win. Reason appears to be falling out of favour. Too many are full of grudges and have to belittle everyone else.  It is a sore time. Courtesy and civility is in short supply. Christ could help us all if something of the Christian story became central to our culture.

Reverence:

In Church matters too, I sometimes wonder. Why is there so much noise, anger and vitriol? Strident speech is a painful intrusion on the landscape of God. Negativity is a pollutant which damages the body. Communion isn’t just Holy Bread (as the children call it.) It is the breaking and sharing of life and experiences. It is communion with each other; with our history; with our God. Bread is broken. Life is shared. There is the awesome accepted fact that none of us have all the answers but we are searching together. We are listening. There is no monopoly of certainty. Every moment; every day; every place; every person is a sacred revelation. The shoes have to be taken off. Reverence is something we all have to learn and relearn. The Synodal method is a process in respect, in reflection, in reverence. I must be getting very old. The values of the past matter more and more.

The missing God for many:

I sometimes wonder too how anyone can walk through life and not see a need for God or for some version of God, that gives sense to the adventure which is life. It is easy to dismiss and explain away how badly some presentations of who God is, have been. (The Church etc). But can this be but a cheap excuse to avoid real living out our humanity? What is happening now with Baptisms and First Communions and Confirmations? Most people (families/parents) haven’t a clue on the reverence ‘thing.’ It is not a forgetfulness but something of that reverence is gone and not missed. The event is everything. The dressing up is what matters. The bouncy castle or the party. But where is the Holy Ground? I think it is fundamental to our humanity, to stretch our minds and imaginations towards the artistry and poetry of life. Before any notion of faith can be found, there is a need to delve into the holiness of life. The wonder of life. The beauty of nature. The concept of love. The gentleness of discovery. The miracle of friendship. The wholesomeness of community.  The gratitude of who we are and where we have come from, and those who make us who we are.

The Prodigal Daughter:

We buried a young lass on Monday. She was a wild girl. She was a tornado of trouble. She was often dangerous. Addiction had driven her away from her family. They couldn’t cope with her. It was impossible. For the past year, she has been clean. Despite all the difficulty she had caused the family, she came back home. She was welcomed and minded. She had used their names in robberies. She had caused havoc. But she came home. Her siblings began to trust her. The youngsters were full of affection for her. She shared her love. The Prodigal daughter was illustrated. (Gospel).  The home-coming was extraordinary. That family who had been through trauma of every kind, including murder, came together and looked after their sister. On the Monday before she died – she rang her sister: “I’m going home.” She said. The sister asked if she wanted to be collected or could she get a taxi for her. Her reply was thrown back at the sister (in colourful language) – “I’m going home to God.” She wasn’t happy either to be told in the Post Office that the Double Week wasn’t there for her. Her comment was: “I could be dead by then.” (She was). The miracles and surprises of everyday are there to be seen. To be noticed. To be moved. To be inspired. To wake up our humanity, to provoke our graciousness, our Godliness and our Goodness.

Crudity:

Sometimes I don’t know what is happening in the crudity of life. In the greed of life. In the criminality of life. In the anti-social nature of life. In the destruction of the drugs and the dealers. In the need for security everywhere. In the riots. In the anti-migrant sentiments. In the way people treat each other. But then there are moments to live by.  That width of prayer or a sense of something and someone more is essential. I am more and more convinced of the bigness of God among us and the smallness of our own minds. We know every little. Yes. I agree. I am very stupid. Not just about America. Not just about the UK. Not just about faith. But about everything. Maybe I am chasing the impossible. I blame Trump… and shouldn’t.

Seamus Ahearne osa

7^th November 2024.