Last Sunday we heard one of the most moving exchanges in the Gospels. I find it difficult to resist the interplay between the imprisoned John the Baptist and Jesus at the height of his public ministry. I really feel for John the Baptist in this passage. He is an extraordinary figure. I glimpse him in the womb at the beautiful encounter between Mary and Elizabeth. I see him in the wild, something of a colossus, straddling the Hebrew Read more…
John the Baptist is a towering figure in Advent. In fact he dominates the gospel of last week and this week. Last week we got a good description of him, his dress, his food, and we heard him in full flow. This week he is in prison, and whilst his conviction and courage are very much intact, and yet…..yet he seeks reassurance, most especially from Jesus. I find the passage in today’s Gospel very beautiful, and moving. We Read more…
‘On Guard!!’ This was our cry as young boys, with our left arm bent, hand on hip, the other hand brandishing our sword as we acted out a fencing scene from The Mark of Zorro or another swashbuckling epic. These sword fights were fast and furious and often ended in one or other of us being ‘run through’. Personally, more than actually executing my opponent, I enjoyed flicking his sword out of his hand and hear it clatter to Read more…
On one of our first trips to the United States, Fr John and myself were working in a summer camp run by the Salesians. On our first day we asked the young people we were working with to queue up. They stared at us blankly. They had no clue what we were talking about. Soon we were to learn about the trunk of the car as opposed to the boot, that the lift is the escalator but on Read more…
I had a very unusual encounter with darkness just a few days ago. Unusual in the sense that such a thing rarely happens at least to the degree that it hit me the other day. It was quite intense. It is important to set the scene a little. I had been invited to Belfast to celebrate a special day with the Christian Brothers, the men with whom I had worked and shared my life with for over twenty Read more…
‘There they go again, telling us what to do’, ‘They have little to worry them!’, ‘They are not going to tell me what to do with my loved ones ashes, nor my own for that matter!’ ‘My Mum’s ashes are on the sideboard and that’s where they are staying!’ These were just some of the reactions that came my way when the Church recently presented some norms regarding the burial and cremation of our loved ones. In a way Read more…
Now that we are in the month of November our thoughts turn towards those that we have known, and sometimes loved, who have died. Our society is now less comfortable than ever with death. This is a natural consequence of the move away from organised religion and/or the decrease in faith. We are encouraged now to use language that softens the starkness of death. We speak of ‘his passing’, ‘she crossed’, ‘they have gone before us’, indeed recently Read more…
AN EVENT NOT TO BE MISSED A special evening in St Matthew’s. We are delighted to welcome Fr. Eamonn Mulcahy. Fr. Eamonn’s address will help us to mark in a fitting way the end of the Year of Mercy. A BRIEF BIOGRAPHY OF FR. EAMONN Fr. Eamonn Mulcahy is a Spiritan or Holy Ghost Father Missionary originally from Manchester. A priest since 1980, he has extensive missionary experience, working with young adults, teaching theology and giving retreats. From 2006-2013 Read more…
Did you ever feel fed up? Now I hasten to add I am not talking about when you are unwell, such as being tired or run down. I am of course not talking about depression, which is a clinical term which deserves both our respect and to be taken seriously. No, I mean that feeling of being fed up. The feeling of finding the daily grind draining. The feeling of being trapped in a routine that is far Read more…
Have you any wounds? I mean a physical wound. Big or small. Maybe you got your appendix out. Maybe you are a mother and you have the singularly noble wound of a C-Section. I got my appendix out. I also have a little scar on my second smallest finger on my left hand. It reminds me of happy days as a kid growing up in West Belfast. I got this little scar from catching my hand on glass climbing Read more…