Lent, that is! We’re heading into the third week now. I can’t say I’m playing a blinder. I wanted it to be more than just about sweets and biscuits but even that much has been quite a test and (yes), I’ve failed. Back on tracks though. I really believe Lent is about keeping going rather than letting go or giving up.
Have a look again at Ash Wednesday – at the hopes for the Lenten Season and give them another go ….
Just in from Jimmy’s Funeral Mass in Gurteen. It was a lovely gathering of
Jimmy Sherlock, R.I.P.
family, neighbours and friends. I had a few notes written by way of a homily and will try now to put some shape on them. A good number of people told me they were happy to read what was said at my father’s Mass so might be good to include a few words from Jimmy’s too ….
The Gospel Passage was from Mark’s Gospel (8:22-30)
They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought to him a blind man whom they begged him to touch. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. Then putting spittle on his eyes and laying his hands on him, he asked, ‘Can you see anything?’ The man, who was beginning to see, replied, ‘I can see people; they look like trees to me, but they are walking about’. Then he laid his hands on the man’s eyes again and he saw clearly; he was cured, and he could see everything plainly and distinctly. And Jesus sent him home, saying, ‘Do not even go into the village’.
Jesus and his disciples left for the villages round Caesarea Philippi. On the way he put this question to his disciples, ‘Who do people say I am?’ And they told him. ‘John the Baptist,’ they said ‘others Elijah; others again, one of the prophets.’ ‘But you,’ he asked ‘who do you say I am?’ Peter spoke up and said to him, ‘You are the Christ’.
HOMILY
Fr Michael McLoughlin (R.I.P.) shared a house with me in Collooney. He was retired at the time but had, for many years, been a curate in Gurteen. He was very fond of Jimmy and his family and used to visit Jimmy regularly. He told me that he was chatting to him one day in the garage and that Jimmy had mentioned he’d be going to Dublin the following morning. A few minutes later a woman came in to the garage, chatted with Jimmy for a while and said that she’d like to arrange to have her car serviced. “Certainly Madam”, said Jimmy “any day you want”. She suggested the next day and Jimmy said that would be fine. When she left Fr McLoughlin reminded Jimmy that he was due to go to Dublin the next day. When Jimmy agreed, Fr Michael said that he had just arranged to service the woman’s car, even though he was going to be in Dublin. “Yes indeed, Your Reverence”, said Jimmy “but that woman won’t be in tomorrow or in a thousand tomorrows. She regularly comes in and arranges to have her car serviced but it never happens”!! Jimmy knew people. He knew their ways, respected them and responded appropriately. Jimmy knew people.
He also knew about things. The Paschal Candle Stand here in our midst is quite heavy. One day Jimmy saw one of the priests struggling to move it into position for a funeral. He said nothing but returned a few days later and fitted wheels to the base. When I was in Carracaslte Parish I asked him to make a stand for the thurible. He made two – one for Carracastle and another for Rooskey. They served their purpose and I recently noticed the Carracastle one is till in use. It was a simple but effective piece of work. The base – an old clutch plate! He knew what needed to be done – he knew what would help and he did it. Jimmy knew people and things.
The Paschal Candle is a lovely symbol of Christ with us. Often it can pass un-noticed in the church but the Candle is there at our Baptism and our funeral. An abiding presence that seeks to console and accompany in its abiding. At the Easter Vigil the church was in darkness and this candle alone was carried through the church. Its small flame, gave light and life to other flames and brought brightness where there was darkness. This is Christ’s desire for us too – he seeks to bring light where otherwise there might be a lasting darkness.
In the Gospel Passage we just heard, Jesus restores sight to a blind man. It wasn’t an instant restoration. He put spittle on his finger and rubbed his finger on the man’s eyes. At first the man could see things but only in a blur “I see people” he said, “but they look like trees”. More time, further healing and the man was able to see clearly. Sometimes God’s work takes a bit longer than others. It can sometimes be messy work – spittle – but what is being said is that God is with us and if we put our trust in him, the sight will return. It often demands patience.
Jimmy was a mechanic first and foremost but seemed willing and able to turn his hand to many things. He fitted attic stairs, made covers for boats (I’m sure people thought there was a very wealthy man living in Gurteen when they’d pass and see boats of various sizes, shapes and value, on the street outside Jimmy’s house). Someone told me they saw him working on a boat cover one night. The street lamps had come on but the lamp beside Jimmy hadn’t. As the person drove by they saw Jimmy climb down off the boat, take a spanner and hit the base of the ESB pole. The light came on immediately. He seemed to know the spot – the right spot to make sure the job was done and done well.
I remember Jimmy as photographer. He took countless photos – quite likely to record the success of Denise at dancing – and, in the process kept a record of many great and local events. He didn’t work with digital cameras but film. In the digital age, the photographer sees immediately how good or bad the picture is and can delete and try again. Not so with film, it demanded patience and trust. The photographer relied on his ability to take a picture but did not know for sure whether it had worked or not until the developing took place. For this to happen there had to be a period of darkness – the darkroom – where darkness gave way to light and clarity of image. Light is the flip side of darkness and we cannot really have one without the other. Jimmy’s darkness came with illness and the confusion that brought. Our hope is that he too has now fully worked through that darkness and that he sees clearly the fully developed picture that is Life Eternal.
When I took pictures and showed them to Jimmy, he would be quick to point out the flaws. “What exactly were you taking there?” He’d point out that while I might have got someone in the photo I had too much taken along with the person. There was need to focus. They say the good photographer has the picture clearly taken in mind before ever the shutter closes on the camera. This calls for discipline and clear eye that can focus on what needs attention and leave to one side what is of little, if any, benefit to the photo. So too in life, there is a need to focus and let go of things that might serve no lasting purpose to our lives or journey. We can learn well from the photographer – from Jimmy. He used to show slides as well. We’d often gather in the kitchen. The screen would be set in place, the projector connected and then the lights would have to be turned off. Again, darkness before light – before the revelation of the images. Nora and her family have experienced this darkness in recent weeks – watching Jimmy sick and in hospital, hearing him speak of coming hone when he was not able for the journey or the return. Our prayer for them is that the darkness gives way to light of peace today – peace in knowing they did well by him for as long as was possible.
It’s hard to imagine that my father and Jimmy are gone within a week of each other. They were two strong presences in our lives. Our uncle Thomas died over thirty years ago. I never saw him stand up – he was in a wheelchair or in bed when I saw him on Sunday nights. I’m sure Hal and Evie remember him standing but I don’t. Jimmy and daddy stood tall in my world. The image of the Twin Towers comes to mind. Those towers that stood in each other’s shadow until an act of terrorism caused them to crumble. I see something of that in daddy and Jimmy. The terrorism of old age and sickness crumbled what had stood strong for all of us for so many years. We thank God for Jimmy and Bill. We thank God for Thomas and pray that they, together with their parents, sister Mary Ellen and daddy’s twin (who died at birth) rest in peace. We remember as well, Thomas’ wife Nora, my mother Mary and Sr Maureen McDonnell. It’s sad to think that so many of that generation have died recently. Again, we pray that they all rest in peace.
Jimmy projected much of what was good in life. He did his best by and for people and was very proud of this place and his family. Our prayer now, our lasting prayer is that he is at Peace.
May he rest in Peace.
In concluding the Prayers of the Faithful, the following words were used. It’s a piece called “The Photographer’s Prayer” and I don’t know the author’s identity.
Oh God, as I bring my subject into focus and prepare to make each Portrait, never let me forget that I’m creating treasures for some family, a keepsake for loved ones…
Make me sensitive to the qualities and virtues of others, that I may draw out into the light, the beautiful radiant belongings of their hearts….
Help me Oh Lord, to be an artist, collecting the beauty of every soul, the glow of youth, the wisdom of age, the gentleness, the laughter or tears of each life that is precious in thy sight…
Deeper than a means of livelihood, give me the perspective to see my photographer’s art as a service to others, making life richer and more memorable….
And, Dear Lord, between the lights and shadows, the ups and downs and the rolling years, keep me from getting out of focus or off center, so that my life and work may be framed with dignity and colored with contentment…
AMEN
Earlier today, Sunday March 20th, my uncle Jimmy died, R.I.P. He had been in hospital for a number of weeks. His family hadn’t told him that daddy died, as they wanted to save him from further upset. Please God they are reunited now.
Jimmy was ever loyal to my father and the two of them got along really well, thank God. Regular visits and shared stories kept them in contact. It’s hard to believe the two of them have died within the week.
We remember Jimmy’s family now – Nora his wife, his daughter Denise and sons Declan and Des, his daughter-in-law Eileen and grandchildren. May they find the strength they need for the days ahead.
He was a keen photographer and, in some ways, I’ve always thought my own fondness for pictures came from him. He never used digital cameras but developed countless rolls of film and captured thousands of moments. Jimmy, like my father, was a talented man who could turn his hand to a variety of tasks. Ever obliging, he was available to all.
Jimmy and Bill at home in Moygara.
As we prepare for Jimmy’s Funeral in Gurteen, we pray that God grant eternal rest to Jimmy, daddy and all who have died. “We put them yesterday under Our Lady’s protection and today we put them under the protection of her only Son. May Peter freely open to them the Gates of Paradise and may God and Mary come to meet them and bring their Souls to the City of the Saints. Amen.”
Bill on his 90th Birthday - February 2010
My father’s Funeral Mass was celebrated today (March 16th) in St Joseph’s Church, Cloonloo. The church was filled to overflowing. Thirty priests joined in the concelebration of Mass. Jimmy Buckley, Patrick Feeney, Fr James McDonagh and Christy O’Grady supplied song and music – fitting the occasion. It was a good celebration of a long and well-lived life. After Mass, daddy was buried alongside my mother in Templeronan Cemetery – across the lake from our home in Moygara. Big Tom (McBride) sang “A land where you never grow old”. Thought I might include a few pieces from the Liturgy here.
INTRODUCTION TO THE MASS
The day I was ordained, my father said a few words – very few words – at the reception. He thanked people who had come to join us; he cleared his throat and said “This is my happiest day ever”. It was and remains a highlight of that day for me. The approval of your father, the support and love of your father, the feeling that you have done well by your father – that’s probably as good as it gets. Today, nearly a quarter of a century later, in the midst of neighbours and friends, I stand with my brothers and their families, with our cousins – mindful of daddy’s brother Jimmy who is in hospital – on what is quite likely one of our saddest days ever and still we search for happiness on this day too. We search for his happiness above our own and I don’t think any of us could doubt his happiness now. Our prayer is that he is at peace and content and eternally happy.
GOSPEL AND HOMILY
The Gospel text was from St John’s Gospel:
Looking up, Jesus saw the crowds approaching and said to Philip, ‘Where can we buy some bread for these people to eat?’ He only said this to test Philip; he himself knew exactly what he was going to do. Philip answered, ‘Two hundred denarii would only buy enough to give them a small piece each’. One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said, ‘There is a small boy here with five barley loaves and two fish; but what is that between so many?’ Jesus said to them, ‘Make the people sit down’. There was plenty of grass there, and as many as five thousand men sat down. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and gave them out to all who were sitting ready; he then did the same with the fish, giving out as much as was wanted. When they had eaten enough he said to the disciples, ‘Pick up the pieces left over, so that nothing gets wasted’.
When thinking of a gospel passage for today’s Mass there was only one place to look and that was to the miracles. Daddy worked many miracles in life. He brought cars and bikes, machines and what was considered broken back to life so many times. When others might easily give up, cast aside or have ordered a-new, he tweaked and welded, moulded and shaped, cleaned and re-cleaned – didn’t give up – until life and purpose was restored. He had a gift – a true gift – to see even the embers of function, the spark of possibility, the hope for restoration and to cling to the belief – “this too can be fixed”. He was a gifted man – a good man – who could, quite literally turn his hand to anything. Someone at home yesterday said “your father could weld snow”. May Callaghan, my Godmother (R.I.P.) was minding the three of us one time when we were small. We were playing rough with a toy and she told us to be careful that we might break it – one of us (doubtful if it was me) looked up and said, “it’s all right, daddy will fix it”! We had, even at a young age, a belief that for our father, nothing was unfixable.
A crowd of five thousand – a hungry crowd – they needed to be fed. “Where can we get some food for these people?” The disciples were for sending them away but Jesus wanted to do it himself. A small boy’s offering of a few loaves and fish, that was the start. Jesus fired up the welder, adjusted the flame – the orange colour blended until there was a strong presence of blue – the welding had begun. Crust welded to crust, fish to fish – multiplied and divided until all were fed. Then the gathering began – nothing should go to waste.
Bread is a very central theme in Scripture. As people wandered starved and frightened in the forty year dessert walk, bread was sent to them in the morning. Jesus spoke of being the “bread of life” – he took and broke bread at the Last Supper, he asked for something to eat after his Resurrection and they handed him a piece of bread. Bill loved bread – not for the sake of it but because it was often a quick way of feeding people. He’d almost tip out the full loaf on a plate on the centre of the table. It was a visual reminder that there was plenty there and that people should not be afraid to eat. It’s not that he’d take a whole lot himself – particularly in recent years – but he wanted others to feel free. Toast was a speciality!
Did Bill feed five thousand? To be honest, when all the totting up would be done – all the times he said to people “go in to Mary” – when they’d be there getting cars serviced – all the times he plugged in kettles and toasters, all the times he absolutely refused NO for an answer – it’s quite likely he did. Some would have been repeats of course but daddy certainly made a dent in the loaves – not so much maybe, the fish!
There was a kindness in daddy. He really did want to help people. He worked so hard – often and quite literally through the night – to get a job done. He didn’t count the cost or measure the cost in hours and minutes but rather wanted the job to be right. I know people admired him for that and came from near and far to seek his help. Seldom, I think it’s fair to say, did he leave them in the lurch. If it could be done, he would do it. If it couldn’t, he’d still have a go!!
There is a lot to be thankful for today. Bill lived for more than 91 years. He enjoyed life and appreciated all that was done for him. He saw his children and grandchildren, welcomed nephews and nieces and their families. He visited places and spent time with people that mattered to him. He kept a keen interest in the world and its affairs and never allowed his mind to be idle. He had a good marriage and a mighty wife – they were so good to each other. His health was pretty good most of his life and he lived at home until his final days. There is a lot to be thankful for. I hope we fully realise that. There is a lot to be thankful for.
Finally there are also a lot to be thankful to – so a brief word of thanks to those who helped our father in any way; to neighbours and friends who were his customers through the years – to relations and family who kept in touch, not least since mammy died – to Gerard and Kieran and their families for all you’ve said and done. To the grandchildren, in particular, for bridging the generation gap and allowing him time and space in your lives. Thanks to our cousins, not least for the countless hours you spent with us over the past week – day and night – you were always there and I hope you know how much it meant. Thanks to Mary Giblin for her daily visits. Thanks to Fr Tomás and the present and past priests of the parish for their pastoral care. Thanks to all in the Motor Trade who knew my father and now my brothers. It is not the easiest time for many of you but hopefully the situation will improve – Bill used to say “keep cool” – so do that and things will get better. Thanks to my brother priests for your presence here today and your prayers also – not least to all of you who took your place on the hillside of the five thousand and shared bread with Bill in Moygara. Thanks to everybody with us today and over the past few days. I can almost hear daddy say to you all – apologising almost for taking up your time today – “this most likely doesn’t suit you at all” – we know it doesn’t, there are other places you could be and maybe need to be, but thanks for being here with us today.
And back to the mountain top – we are thankful to daddy for offering his five loaves and two fish – the talents with which he was born and gifted – to do so much good, in so many ways for so many people. We love you, we miss you and we know you are at peace. You absolutely deserve that.
POST COMMUNION REFLECTION
They asked me why I did it?
The truth is I don’t know – it just seemed the right thing to do. We had been standing there for hours. He had spoken so much, said so much – time just went by. People were hungry. You could see it in them and yet nobody wanted to leave. There was a muttering through the crowd – “he wants to feed us” – “With what?” someone said – “there’s no food here”.
That’s when I heard myself saying “I have something” – my voice seemed so loud. I was only a child but my voice rose above all others. “I have something”. A man asked what had I and I said “five loaves and two fish” – he smiled. I suppose now I would think it was a dismissive smile but that day I thought he was pleased. He passed on the message “There’s a small boy here with five loaves and two fish” – my heart sank when he added “but what is that between so many?” I blushed and even with my childish counting of two and two making four, I could see he was right. The man who had been talking to us did not agree. “Bring it to me”, he said and they took my food. I’ll never know how it happened but the feeding began. Bread and fish fed to five thousand.
“Why did you do it?” I’ve often thought about that. I did it because my father would have done it. He was always sharing bread with people at home. I grew up seeing him do that. Truth be told, it was he who had given me the few loves and fish before I left the house. I did it because he would have done it. It was the right thing to do.
There’s nothing to beat a father’s good example. Thanks Bill! We will not forget.
Daddy (we called him Bill most of the time!) died today, March 13th, at 1pm. About twelve hours earlier, as I sat by his bed with my niece and cousin, I typed some words into my phone – trying to capture how I felt and hold on to the love that was around his illness and bed but somehow I managed to lose those words. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have them … maybe they were not needed. I’m not bothered about losing them but I am bothered about losing him. He was a genuinely good man.
He missed our mother so much but continued as best he could to be cheerful and active. He manged the cheerfulness but his activity lessened. His world became quite small – living life, more or less, at home. He was blessed to have good support and care. He counted his blessings and blessed those who made them possible. One niece, he promoted to the role of “Guardian Angel” and even though she did not fully accept the title, there’s no denying there was truth in it. All his grandchildren stood by him even if, for some of them, location and circumstances meant it had to be at a bit of a remove.
Thankfully my brothers and I were close to him as well and I think, more often than not, got it right in caring for him. He was anything but demanding. Whenever you’d do anything for him, be it take him to a hospital appointment or wash his hair, he’d say “I’m sure this doesn’t suit you at all” and alway there was thanks. He appreciated everything and voiced that appreciation.
Anyway he’s with Mary again. No doubt she’ll have a few things lined up for him to do. Maybe he’ll revert to his old ways – often he’d fall asleep sitting near her and she’d shout over at him – “Are you asleep Bill?” Without opening and eye, he’d answer “Sound to the world”!!!
I want to put a few more bits and pieces here but just want, for now, to ask you to say a prayer for my father – may he rest in peace. “Are you asleep Bill?” “Sound to the world”!!!
Ralph Phelps in a sermon entitled “How to Worry” tells about the clock that had a nervous breakdown. A new clock placed on the shelf was ticking two ticks to the second as any good clock should tick. Then it began to calculated how many times it was going to have to tick. “Two ticks to the second means 120 ticks per minute. That’s 7200 ticks per hour, 172,800 ticks per day, 1,209,600 per week for 52 weeks, and a total of 62,899,200 per year.” Horrified, the clock had a nervous breakdown.
The clock was taken to a psychiatrist who asked, “Clock, what’s your trouble?” “Oh, doctor,” the clock complained, “I have to tick so much. I have to tick two ticks a second and 120 ticks per minute and 7200 ticks per hour, and …” “Hold it,” the psychiatrist cut in, “How many ticks do you have to tick at a time?” “Oh, I just have to tick one tick at a time,” was the reply. “Then let me make a suggestion,” replied the doctor. “You go home and try ticking one tick at a time. Don’t even think about the next tick until its time. Just tick one tick at a time. Can you do that?” “Of course, I can” said the clock now happy and revived.
Don’t worry about the next tick! “
Tick it easy”!!!
