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Dear Readers,
The internet provider for the blog has been down, and consequently my submission this week is only in bullet points: I know that I have been late in posting lately; I will do better:

This week is Good Shepherd Sunday and Vocations Sunday:

1. Don't be afraid to give an account of your own story. This is the one Sunday of the year, I believe, you are allowed to be personal; after all YOU have a vocation.
2. The Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep; there is an element of suffering in a true vocation.
3. Everyone has a vocation; the most important one is to be holy! (cf. Vatican II!)
4. Ask people to pray for vocations; no priests no Eucharist, no Eucharist no Church.....
5. If you are happy in your vocation let it be known. If you are not ask the Good Shepherd for strength.
6. If a young man/woman presented themselves with what they believed to be a vocation...what would you tell them?
7. The Vocation we all share is to proclaim the Good Shepherd is risen: Surrexit Pastor Bonus, Alleluia!

Two reflections:


The Beautiful Hands of a Priest.

We need them in life's early morning,
We need them again at its close;
We feel their warm clasp of true friendship,
We seek it while tasting life's woes.

When we come to this world we are sinful,
The greatest as well as the least.
And the hands that make us pure as angels
Are the beautiful hands of a priest.

At the altar each day we behold them,
And the hands of a king on his throne
Are not equal to them in their greatness
Their dignity stands alone.

For there in the stillness of morning
Ere the sun has emerged from the east,
There God rests between the pure fingers
Of the beautiful hands of a priest.

When we are tempted and wander
To pathways of shame and sin
'Tis the hand of a priest that absolve us.
Not once but again and again.

And when we are taking life's partner
Other hands may prepare us a feast
But the hands that will bless and unite us,
Are the beautiful hands of a priest.

God bless them and keep them all holy,
For the Host which their fingers caress,
What can a poor sinner do better
Than to ask Him who chose them to bless

When the death dews on our lids are falling,
May our courage and strength be increased
By seeing raised o'er us in blessing
The beautiful hands of a priest.


Thou Art a Priest Forever (Lacordaire)

To live in the midst of the world,
Without wishing its pleasures;
To be a member of each family,
Yet belonging to none;
To share all sufferings;
To penetrate all secrets;
To heal all wounds;
To go from men to God
And offer Him their Prayers;
To return from God to men
To bring pardon and hope;
To have a heart of fire for charity
And a heart of bronze for chastity;
To teach and to pardon,
Console and bless always--
What a glorious life!
And it is yours,
O Priest of Jesus Christ!

This is a nice recording of Orlando Lasso's 'Surrexit Pastor Bonus'

4th Sunday of Easter (Good Shepherd Sunday)

Jesus said:
“Amen, amen, I say to you,
whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate
but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber.
But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.
The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice,
as the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.
When he has driven out all his own,
he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him,
because they recognize his voice.
But they will not follow a stranger;
they will run away from him,
because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.”
Although Jesus used this figure of speech,
the Pharisees did not realize what he was trying to tell them.

So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you,
I am the gate for the sheep.
All who came before me are thieves and robbers,
but the sheep did not listen to them.
I am the gate.
Whoever enters through me will be saved,
and will come in and go out and find pasture.
A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy;
I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”

3rd Sunday of Easter

This the homily from Mass broadcast live on RTE Radio, as part of the annual conference of Irish Post Polio Support Group. The homily focused on the late effects of polio in the context of the Road to Emmaus.

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My Dad is from Bray in Co Wicklow. When I was young, my brothers and I would have spent a lot of time there with my grandparents. They lived in a beautiful Victorian house facing a park, number 5 Sidmonton Square. Behind their house there was small street called Glenard Avenue. Now we used to refer to this little road as the ‘back lane’. I am not sure what the good citizens of Glenard would have made of us calling that! There was door in the garden wall that opened out into this little independent republic tucked away in the sea-side town. They were our second set of neighbors, our summer time family and they loved the three ruddy kids from country who would visit from time to time, shattering the tranquility of neighborhood with footballs and bikes and whatever else we could borrow from our Bray cousins during our holidays. One of the citizens of Glenard Ave was June Wheeler – June was a survivor of polio.

When she was young, like so many of her generation, she fell ill. After many many months in hospital she came home a very different person. I never knew her with braces or crutches, she had been sick along time even before my grandparents settled there. The scares of her illness however remained with her for life. June was special to us. She lived in a small house, filled with photos of another era, holy pictures and bits and pieces belonging to her deceased mother, each with their own place, each with their own story. Despite her frailty, her left arm was practically powerless, she worked every day in little shop on the Meath Road, the proprietors name to us was irrelevant – we only called it June’s. She cared for her mother until she died in her eighties – and only then dared to put the official name of the her house on the door – Victoria Villas – her mum came from firm republican stock!

June had two loves. Her little dog Skippy, who she walked slowly but determinedly every day in the Park in front of my Grandparents house and the Italian Capuchin saint, Padre Pio. She maintained that it was both of these that kept her going. Every month she organised a bus to the Capuchin’s in Church St, Dublin to a Mass for his canonization. Ironically, I learned of her death when I was on a trip to San Giovanni Rotondo, St Pio’s town, when I was a student in Rome.

Growing up June was one of those people who made mark on my life and lives my brothers and cousins. We knew nothing about polio. Unlike when my grandparents were young and starting their own family, polio was not threat and had for us had receded into history. For June and for many people like her, polio is as real now as it was then. Coming in and going out of her house, visiting her in the shop, playing with her dog, going on the bus Church St, we could not even begin to imagine what she had gone through as a child, as only survivors of polio can understand.

The Gospel today tells the story of the road to Emmaus. It’s a real Easter story. The two men, one called Clopas, the other unnamed had just experienced the most traumatic event of their lives. They had witnessed their dreams, their plans for the future, their hopes evaporate before their eyes. Jesus, whom they hoped would answer all their questions had been taken from them, crucified and buried. They felt as if they had no option, but to leave. They waited till the dust settled and on the first day of the week, they skipped town. They had heard foundationless rumors that he was still alive, but they knew best, he was gone, that was it. And as they were talking about it all writing two lines under their bad debt, the risen Jesus comes to them. He asks them what is wrong, and not without irony, he is told. Only after a long time can they see him for who he is. Their hearts burning as they go back to confirm what the others knew – Jesus is risen and had appeared to Simon.

What really strikes me about this story is the range of human emotion that is presented. Fear, maybe anger, cynicism, regret, then coupled with joy, love, passion and faith. It says that their hearts burned within them and when they realized what had just happened to them they ran back to Jerusalem in the dark – a dodgy enough endeavor. When illness comes our way, we can identify with the two men. Many of you who are listening today will have had the experience of a doctors office; being told news that changes everything. An accident, a diagnosis, results of test can burst us. In an instant dreams and hopes can be replaced by the fear of the future, uncertainly and darkness. The experience of post polio is certainly like that. When life seems to be just fine, everything seems to going well, another cross, another Calvary is added to what may already have been a life of challenge. Sometimes the painful memories of the past can return to play with us. Separation from loved ones, hard and difficult treatment, abuse (mentally, physically and sexually) can return to scourge us like the whips of Good Friday, refusing to let us heal.

Still, we are here. As we gather on this Easter morning, there is something at work in our lives, which the darkness can never over power. June Wheeler walked with me, part of the journey of my life and I have been changed forever. She showed me love and kindness and friendship that can never be quantified in a material way. Her polio never came to mind yet her experience of illness was a factor that made her who she was. It did not stop her being fully alive despite her physical limitations - so much so that her memory by times keeps me going in trials and difficulties.

Jesus walks with us in all things – good and bad. Some times we know he is there, sometimes he is hidden from us, we have to look hard to find him. Sometimes he is in the face of a friend, other times in the kind words of stranger. If you feel alone this morning, cut off from friends and family, if illness or disability or infirmity has stolen your dreams – during this Mass when we meet Jesus in the scripture and the breaking of the bread - let us walk with you. Be it polio or any other sickness, old age or any suffering of body, mind or spirit that is holding you back – stay with us for a while, for Christ is here. Everyone at some time or another feels the pain of loneliness and disappointment. Jesus tells us today that everything is okay – even apparent disaster.

As we gather in his name today let us allow him, tell us we do not suffer alone. He as gone before us, he knows our pain and he will make our hearts burn within us with his love – and the love that is in hearts of all people - if we but reach out and take it.

Low Sunday 2011

I hope you had a very pleasant Easter, where ever in the world you celebrated the Resurrection. Holy Week was an incredibly busy week. Easter Week provides a chance to recover! So my postings over the Holy Days were scant. I will put my notes and ideas together at some stage and post them. All in all, this Easter was very special! Good weather and good sized congregations added extra to the celebrations. We arise with Christ and keep going, knowing He goes before us.

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"In union with the whole Church we celebrate that day when Jesus Christ Our Lord, rose from the dead in His human body" The Roman Canon. 


There are so many things to celebrate today. The last day of the Easter Octave makes this an Easter Day. The celebration of the Divine Mercy reminds us of the greatness of God's love and the pledged of love and forgiveness we have received in Jesus. The Gospel tells us today that we are blessed because we have not seen. Easter joy is all over the place! One extra celebration today is the beatification of the Servant of God, Pope John Paul 11.

It only seems like yesterday we heard of the tragic news of his death. I had the privilege of being in St Peter's Square that evening. As long as I live I will never forget it. It was an event of mystical proportions. I was ordained to the deaconate the previous Easter Monday (this was now Saturday). My family had all returned home, the previous evening a number of students form the Irish College had remained in the Square all night, joining with hundreds of others, praying, singing, keeping vigil with someone who was special to us all.

He died about half nine, or twenty to ten. The rosary had just finished. After a pause of a few seconds some extra prayers were offered ad hoc, then came the announcement "Our beloved Holy Father has returned to the House of the Father." Many cried, the Italians clapped in accordance with their tradition, the entire crowd united in prayer, sorrow and mourning. I met people whom I had had known in college, people who until this I had only know by sight - that night we were brothers and sisters, united in the loss of a common father. It was a profound experience of what it means to be Catholic - people from every tribe and people and tongue and nation, formed into one by a common faith

I have often reflected on that night. Particularly I have often reflected on that phrase 'returning to the house of the father'.

Pope, soon to be Blessed, John Paul II procalimed one thing and one thing only - Jesus Christ. In his love of Mary, his condemnation of evil, his striving for the truth to prevail against all odd,  all pointed to the reality of the the love of God made visible in Jesus. You may say that this is a radical simplification of the achievements of a great man, possibly a doctor of the Church, but the essence of what he was about was Christ. In all his journeys he was an apostle of the Lord. From the first moment of his Papacy he challenges us all to open wide the doors to Christ, the only one who will not let us down.

I have not read, nor will I probably read but a fraction of John Paul II's writings. So many of his encyclicals and sermons, which we studied in college, plumb the depth of the heart and mind. The one thing I will learn from him however is; in a world filled with darkness and disappointment, of short cuts and half values, there is a possibility of living the Gospel to the full. The life and death of this great man reminds me  that there is another way - a way of life, a way of truth, a way of hope. Pope John Paul II points us to Jesus; to Calvary and beyond.

The day he took up his sacred office as Successor to St Peter he said "DO NOT BE AFRAID, open wide the doors to Christ" May Blessed John Paul help us in our fears and encourage us by his prayers to open wide the doors to Christ.

The man himself:

This song always reminds me of Pope John Paul II:

Palm Sunday and Holy Week, 2011

Indifference to the Passion


When Jesus Came to Birmingham

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by.
They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, 'Forgive them, for they know not what they do, '
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall, and cried for Calvary.

G. A. Studdert-Kennedy

I am always amazed at the relative indifference people show towards the great events of Holy Week. Even some who attend Church on a regular basis seem to trivialise the events of Salvation as just the happenings of another week. Some lament the fact that the ceremonies of Holy Week are longer, some bemoan that the Easter Vigil is at 9pm not the regular 7, others just do not care and stay away, popping in for a while on Easter Sunday.

It is however this very week that we live for. In the Liturgy we actively play our part in the Gospel events of the first Holy Week. There are so many roles in the drama we can identify with. At one time we can be untied with Jesus in His sufferings, bravely carrying our crosses usque ad mortem. At other times His cry from the Cross can be  our prayer of abandonment and loneliness. We can be soldiers of Rome or women of Jerusalem. We can sell Jesus for thirty pieces of silver (or less) or lovingly wipe his face on the road to Calvary. We can identify with the centurion, acknowledging Christ as the Son of the Most High, or we can be like the people hurrying into Jerusalem, passing the crucified saviour of the world, ignoring or avoiding the price of our redemption.

If one of our loved ones was to die within days, we would not think of leaving their side. This week as we carry the palms into the Jerusalem, may we not leave Jesus' side. When the crowds change their tune from adulation to bitter cries of condemnation, we will be faced with the choice; do we stay or do we leave. Christ suffered for us all, may we have the faith to go up to Jerusalem with Him.

5th Sunday of Lent

Lazarus, here!  Come out.


Fifth Sunday in Lent: March 21,1999 (Cycle A)

This is an exegesis I have found useful:

Exegesis of Gospel: John 11:1-45
The literary structure of sign (semeion) and discourse that is common to the previous narratives (5:1-47; 6:1-59; 9:1-41) is reversed in the raising of Lazarus. Here the dialogical structure of chapter 11 concludes with Jesus' command: "Lazarus, come out" (v. 43). In this seventh sign, Lazarus' illness is inextricably connected with a manifestation of  God's glory: God's power working through Jesus' sign (v. 4). According to the narrator, Jesus' hour of glorification begins proleptically since the raising of Lazarus is the catalyst for plotting Jesus' death (11:45-53).
The dramatis personae in chapter 11 symbolically constitute a full range of responses to Jesus. The unnamed disciples who accompany Jesus play a minor role by misunderstanding his work (vv. 7-10). Martha's belief in Jesus, however, is based on his word (vv. 25-26). Unlike the other disciples, her belief preceded Jesus' sign and enabled her to witness his glory (11:40) as the other disciples had experienced it at Cana (2:11). Martha's comprehensive confession parallels Nathanael's (1:49): "I believe you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world" (v. 27). Her statement is a variation of the Petrine confession at Caesarea Philippi (Matt 16:16 par.). Her confession at Bethany (near Jerusalem) is an additional response which supersedes that of the Galilean official. His belief in Jesus' word was following by the confirming sign which restored life to his son (4:46-53).
In contrast to her sister Martha, Mary is a secondary, two-dimensional character. She does not advance the drama either by her actions or her speech that are stylized to repeat Martha's character, and draw attention to her significance in the narrative (cf. vv. 20 and 29, 31; 21 and 32). Lazarus, their brother, is the only voiceless character in the narrative. His restoration to life essentially links him with Jesus to the extent that the chief priests also plot his death (12:10-11).
The Jews are additional characters in the narrative. They are generally described in a positive light: consoling Martha and Mary (v. 19);staying with Mary in the house and accompanying her to the grace (v. 31); showing Jesus Lazarus'  tomb (v. 34); and acknowledging Jesus' love for Lazarus (v. 36). As the narrative ends with its climax extending into  chapter 12, the description of the Jews changes. Some blame Jesus for not preventing Lazarus' death (.v 37).
The disagreement over Jesus (vv. 36-37) develops. The raising of Lazarus elicited faith from one group who had been present at the tomb (11:34; 12:11). They witnessed to Jesus because of his sign (12:17). The tense of the verb (emarturei) suggests that their faith in Jesus prompted a continuous witness. Some of those present at the tomb, however, reported Jesus action to the authorities (11:46). His sign did not lead to belief for them. A third group, "a great crowd" appears in chapter 12. In Jerusalem for the Passover, they are drawn to Jesus because they have heard about Lazarus (12:12, 18). Although they greet him enthusiastically with palm branches and acclamation (12:123), there is no indication from the narrator of their subsequent belief. The final group described in the narrative, the officials (11:46; 12:10, 19) realize that Jesus' signs are dangerously persuasive: "Everyone will believe in him" (11:47-48; cf. 12:11, 19). This is the group that plots Jesus' death (11:45-47).

Lazarus and Martha are the only individuals in the narrative whom Jesus addresses directly. While Lazarus' response to Jesus' command is not recorded, Martha's response is a confession, a genre appropriate fore revelation. How does Jesus identify himself? "I am (ego eimi) the resurrection and the life" (v. 25a). His statement that discloses how he is the life (vv. 25b-26) is the culmination of the "I am" (ego eimi) sayings in the Book of Signs (1:19-12:50).
First, to satisfy the basic needs of hunger and thirst, Jesus himself supplies the nourishment: "I am (ego eimi) the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst" (6:35). The parallelism of "whoever comes to me" and "whoever believes in me" suggests that the believer is sustained and satisfied by Jesus' teaching. This sapiential interpretation for the bread of life is complemented by he Eucharistic interpretation of 6:51-58. In both interpretations, hunger and thirst are negated and life is given in abundance.
Second, to free individuals from final condemnation, Jesus cancels the judgment (3:18). Judgment occurs during an individual's life. Believing in Jesus means participating now in eternal life; conversely, those who do not believe condemn themselves as long as their failure to believe persists.
Third, to dispel the darkness experienced in life, Jesus offers himself as the source of light: "Whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness" (8:12;9:5,39). The present experience of the believer can also be described by considering 12:46 in tandem with 6:37b: "The one who comes to me I will not cast out." The verses contain an element of final judgment imagery--being cast out into the darkness. From the Johannine perspective, the judgment is realized now. No one who believes will be subject to darkness now or eternally.  
Fourth, to deal with death itself, Jesus promises that death is not the ultimate condition: "Whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life" (3:16b). The death implied in "perish" is clarified in 11:25-26 where physical death is not denied; rather, the assurance of everlasting life beyond the grave is emphasized.
The believer, then possesses the resources that are needed to face the experiences which threaten life (hunger and thirst, moral judgment, darkness, and spiritual death). In addition, the believer receives eternal life (3:16, 36). According to 6:40, belief in Jesus is the basis of eternal life while 11:25-26 emphasizes the definitive absence of death for the one who believes. Correspondingly, a refusal to believe means a rejection of life (5:40). Whether or not the noun "life" (zoe)is continuously qualified by the adjective "eternal" (aionios) is not significant since whenever "life" appears in any verse it signifies the life common to the Father and Son which is shared by the believer. Finally, participation in divine life is a present reality for the believer. The Prologue describes this reality: "To those who believed in his name, he gave the power to become children of God"(1:12).
Professor Mary Margaret Pazdan

4th Sunday of Lent.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

We are often moved by the sight of a blind person with a white cane or a guide dog, making their way across a busy street.  We marvel at their courage and trust, to be able to arrive safely on the other side.

Jesus cures the man born blind.  The Pharisees had problems with Jesus.  He mixed with publicans and sinners, where he preached mercy and forgiveness and he healed on the Sabbath.  They refused to believe that he had cured this man, whom the brow-beat with all kinds of allegations.

We are all born blind until our Baptism, when the life we receive gives us the power to bring Christ to everything we do and every person we meet.  Jesus came to show us that He is the light of the world, but some of us either refuse or are unable to accept Him as “the Way, Truth and the Light”.  This Lent let us listen to what the Lord wants of us and come out of the darkness.

“I am the light of the world, says the Lord

Anyone who follows me will have the light of life”. (Jn 8:12)