Fr Alec Reid, R.I.P

Fr Alec Reid, R.I.P

Fr Alec Reid, C.Ss.R. R.I.P

PRAYER OF ST FRANCIS

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

[youtube=http://youtu.be/DP73rWUovYg?rel=0]

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RTE’s “Would you believe” programme ran a feature on Fr Alec last year.  The piece above is taken from that and the show, in its entirety, may be viewed below.

[youtube=http://youtu.be/53ZuVw-FCRw?rel=0]

34th Sunday – Christ The King

34th Sunday – Christ The King

Another year over …..

Wasn’t it John Healy who wrote about the tragedy of rural decline in a book entitled “No One Shouted Stop”?

“STOP”! If today is asking us to do anything it’s to stop and look again at the man on the Cross and to search for and find in the bleakness of that moment the one we call “KING”. It may not be an instant recognition but it’s there to be found, somewhere in the dialogue of the two thieves – one of whom cried “STOP”. Stop the sarcasm, the taunting, the mocking – “this man has done nothing wrong”. Nor has he ….. Recognition of a centurion who, having seen how he died said, “In truth, this man was a Son of God”. Recognition in a veil of the temple being torn in two …

We have celebrated the “YEAR OF FAITH” that comes to an end today. What impact has it had? What impact on YOU? The logo contained a boat, the great image of Church and of voyage from one shore to another. How did we make the crossing? Do we feel we’ve travelled at all? Did we un-berth the boat or leave it tied at the pier?

It’s that sort of a day. It’s a day for honest and deliberate reflection. Little can be gained by stepping away from this year if we don’t allow for some reflection. Joy should be part of that – joy and gratitude for a year of fidelity to prayer and worship, community and church. Joy – in our being there with and for people when “Calvary” drew all too close and real for them in recent months. There should be in us a sense of living faith in our celebrating the Sacraments this year; Baptisms, First Penance, First Eucharist, Confirmation, Marriage, Anointing of The Sick and maybe here and there an Ordination. We had these moments because our “KING”, Christ The King, journeyed with us.

Though celebrating Christ The King, our day is not spent in Royal Palace or on Celebrity Red Carpets but in the here and now of life in this parish, this place and at this time. The KING before us is practically naked, blood stained, battered and bruised. He is riddled with doubts and hurt “My God, my God, why have you deserted me?” He has the taste of bitter vinegar on his lips and the taunting of a mocking crowd in his ears. He so needed that recognition and prayer of the man by his side “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”. He is KING though and that’s the truth we’re called to accept today.

The King calls us to service and recognition. He calls us to be men, women and children of faith, vision, compassion and courage. He needs us to speak out, to whisper or if need be shout “STOP” when things are going in the wrong direction. He needs us to change the flow and direction of an uncertain and possibly non-reflective age. He needs us to come away from the foot of the Cross having recognised there-upon, the presence and love of a gracious and giving King.

33rd Sunday of the year

(Another of The Furrow installments!!)

Within walking distance of Ground Zero, New York, is found a memorial to the victims of the Irish Famine.  It’s an amazing piece of work – approaching it from one side you see a high wall with place names, quotations from accounts of the famine, statistics and details of the impact it had on our country.  The counties and many place names of Ireland are included.  Many might see this as the memorial but, in reality, that’s only the backdrop.  It is literally the reverse side of the intended memorial – yes, of course, part and parcel of the design but you could almost say a “lean-to” to the main focus of the memorial.

The memorial is best approached from the other side and, it’s on that approach, the reality is best displayed.  It is a fallen down cottage, nested on a little hill that gives life to hungry rushes, patches of grass and all that is familiar to anyone who has ever wandered through, never mind lived in rural Ireland.  It’s so real.  The cottage, taken stone by stone, from a townland in the parish of Attymass, Co. Mayo was re-birthed in its adopted surrounds of Battery Park, New York.  Re-birthed like so many who travelled from Mayo and the other 31 counties of our country in search of new life and hope.  As they went, they left the cottages behind and, in the words of another tune; “Castles tall, houses small, left alone, all fall down” – that’s what the memorial represents – the emptiness left behind, the falling in of the house, the quenching of the fire … stones left to crumble.

Surely that’s what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel passage.  The admired temple, it too without love and left alone, will fall in on itself.  It is truly dependant on people’s love – literally the movement of feet in prayerful attendance to keep it alive, relevant and fresh in the hearts and minds of people.  If just looked at from a distance, admired as a piece of art, its full potential will not be reached.  That house in Attymass was once a temple.  Its kitchen table, the alar – its s rooms the sacristy, its door the entrance to a place of prayer and worship.  Its floor the concrete kneeling board where family prayer found its launch and, its family, the congregation called to faithful service and mission.  It emptied though, hunger and death – worry and emigration took a lasting toll.

It took a lot to transport that fallen cottage from its Attymass foundation but it sits well and speaks a sad but pride-filled message in its new setting.  It took a keen eye to see the potential of that cottage to tell a story to people who might otherwise never hear.  Whatever it took, it was worth it and necessary.

Is there, as we near the end of the Church’s Year of Faith, a call here to protect the building, not just admire it – to be partakers not just onlookers and to recognise the true beauty of our Church which, like the Famine Memorial in the shadow of the fallen and desecrated towers, is best approached from the other side where the view reminds us of home, calls us home and makes us better people?  Is there a need for the imaginative and creative eye that can see us in a better setting where the story can be told?

Like the Mayo Cottage, the church in which we now gather has a story to tell also.  As long as we gather to hear and share that story it will be safe, solid and present for in our gathering it is not left alone, it is not unloved – it lives and breathes.

32nd Sunday of The Year

Occasionally, Fr Ronan Drury (Editor of “The Furrow”) asks me to contribute homily material for the publication.  Most recently he asked me to submit some homilies for the month of November.  This is the homily for 32nd Sunday of The Year

I’ve always had a feeling of pity for the youngest brother!!  I’m sure emigration must have crossed his mind!

It seems to me that today’s passage has less to do with the story of the seven brothers and more to do with our understanding of resurrection. A clear divide existed then, as it does today, between those who believe in life beyond the grave and those who don’t.  Even for those who believe, there can be a varying understanding of what form it will take.  Will it be life as we know it now or a totally different existence?

This is something I’ve wondered about, not least since my parents died.  Like all my family, and indeed the families of all who have died where there is a belief in resurrection, Heaven and a “new day”, I hope to one day see my parents again.  That said, I have wondered what it will be like.  My mother, in particular, had a number of difficult years before her death, with her mobility and alertness of mind profoundly affected.  If I am to see her again, is that the woman I see? I’d prefer to think of her in the full flush of youth, energy, love and fullness of life that her earlier years must have afforded her.  Truth told, I didn’t really know her then.  She was always my mother – older and wiser than me – and I’m not sure what version of her the afterlife might present.  The one freshest in my mind is the mother I knew nearing her end, the mother I attended on the day she died but that’s not the image I want to hold on to.  Likewise my father, and many who have died, changed over the years and age had its way with their looks, health and energy.  What version of them does the “resurrection of the body” present?  It’s a real question.  At the end of the day, like much of the journey we walk in this life, the answer is beyond us.  We rely, and continually so, on faith.

Jesus, in replying to the cynically charged question of the Saduccess, seeks to answer us too.  He is saying that there is resurrection.  We need have no doubt about that.  He quotes the “burning bush” story and the recognition, in that moment, of famous giants of our past, still present and involved in all that was happening.

Could it be that we arrive at a sense of peace in the belief that there will be recognition for us?  Maybe, like Mary Magdalene on that Sunday morning, resurrection will be revealed not in a face we instantly recognise but in the intonation of a name.  That intonation, that intimacy of relationship will, I believe, answer our questions, unwrap the hidden mysteries of our faith and bring us “home” to the eternal truth that those we love, those we miss, continue to know us and whisper our names – to call out to us, “not to cling to them” but to have certainty that they are “caught up” in God and that we will be together again.

At day’s end, there are questions asked today whose answers are found and will only be truly answered in eternity.

It is perfectly acceptable to ask questions and to ponder these important issues.  The hope for us is that we’re starting our questioning from a place where the line of the Creed is found:

“I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and life of the world to come. Amen”

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