Spring/Summer 2022
Think of Joseph If discouragement overwhelms you, Think of the faith of Joseph. If your heart is full of anxiety, Think of the faith of Joseph, That descendant of Abraham who hoped against hope. If exasperation or hatred seizes you, Think of the love of Joseph, Who was the first man to set eyes on the human face of God in the person of the Infant conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Virgin Mary. Let us praise and thank Christ for having drawn so close to us, And for giving us Joseph as an example and model Of love for him.
2
Contents Editorial
Page 3 Editorial Page 5 The Land of Ice Page 9 Homecoming and Returning Page 12 One Never Knows Page 15 Long Singut - 50 years on Page 18 Missionaries killed in 2021 Page 21 The Why and the How Page 25 Obituaries /
Silver Circle winners
Page 26 Coming Events
Acknowledgments Contributors: Fr John Doran, mhm Fr Mathews Olili, mhm Sr Sally Hyland, sjg Fr Bernard Fox, mhm Photo Credits: Fr Mathews Olili, mhm Sr Sally Hyland, sjg Fr John Doran, mhm Fr Bernard Fox, mhm Cover photos: Front: Trip to Long Singut, Deep in the Borneo Rainforest. Back: The Tree of Life.
St. Joseph’s Advocate
is the magazine of the Mill Hill Missionaries in Scotland, published from St. Joseph’s House, 30 Lourdes Avenue, Cardonald, Glasgow G52 3QU. Tel: 0141 883 0139. Email: tollanmhm@yahoo.co.uk Registered Charity Number: SCO39809 Produced by: Burns Publications Ltd., Caledonia Business Centre, Thornliebank Industrial Estate, Glasgow G46 8JT
Fr. Bernard Fox, mhm, Editor
On 1 November 2022 Fr Bill Tollan bade farewell to St Joseph’s House, Cardonald, and headed South to Freshfield in Merseyside to begin a new chapter of his life. Fr Bill worked hard over the past 14 years to inform us about how the Church’s mission has continued to unfold, in particular through the efforts of the Mill Hill Missionaries. We thank him very sincerely for the high standard he set. It now falls to me to pick up where I left off in 2007 in putting together this new Spring edition of the St Joseph’s Advocate. Since our last issue we have had a number of significant events taking place: the Cop 26 summit in Glasgow – which confounded many of the sceptics and turned out to have been more hopeful than predicted by some. We had Fr Laurence Freeman, the Benedictine monk who is the leader of the World Community for Christian Meditation stay with us for five nights. Then Fr Joe Holmes, from Dumfries, a former editor of this magazine and the man I succeeded as rector of St Joseph’s House in 2004, died on 30th September. Fr Joe’s funeral Mass in Dumfries was presided over by Bishop William Nolan and saw a significant number of MHMs gather at St Andrew’s church for the event. I will remember that day for a long time because, at the meal afterwards, I mistakenly sprinkled hand
3
sanitiser over my chips, mistaking it for vinegar ! In this edition Fr John Doran offers us an interesting update on the situation of the Catholic Church in Iceland based on his visit to that country. One of our Kenyan Mill Hill missionaries, Fr Mathews Olili, describes how he witnesses to God’s love among the Long Singut people of the Borneo rainforest – one of the most disadvantaged places in that part of the world. Our work there is very much in keeping with our Founder, Herbert Vaughan’s vision of missionaries going to the poorest most neglected. The article of Missionaries Killed in 2021 is a reminder that being a missionary is often about challenging unjust structures and ways of doing things and sometimes means paying the ultimate price for this. Several Mill Hill Missionaries have paid this price with their blood - the last being Fr Cosmas Ondari in Cameroon in 2019 who was gunned down by the army in front of the Church where he was serving.
4
Sr Sally Hyland, a John of God Sister who has a long history of working with Mill Hill Missionaries, both in Cameroon and in Europe – including here in Cardonald - has written a very moving story (One Never Knows) inviting us not to put off saying to our loved ones things we want to say but often hesitate about doing. We have just celebrated the feast of St Kentigern or Mungo (his more familiar name here in Glasgow). I was invited to offer a short reflection on the theme of Homecoming for a service at Glasgow cathedral. I offer you the text of the reflection to ponder. 100 years ago, in 1922, the first Mill Hill Missionaries arrived in Cameroon. As we celebrate this centenary we will have an article to offer you in the next edition of the Advocate. Finally, as we go to print the Covid situation is improving and so I hope you, our readers and benefactors of the Mill Hill Missionaries get to venture out again and really appreciate God’s wonderful creation this Springtime.
The
Land of Ice
by John F. Doran mhm
A thousand years ago, Loki, a Norwegian Viking, set out to discover Iceland. His secret weapons were three ravens, two logs (cedar I think) and two Irish slaves. When he felt he was nearing land he released a raven. It couldn’t believe its luck and headed east, back to Norway! Raven no. 2, had a failure of nerve and refused to fly. Raven no. 3, having read the contract, headed west towards Iceland. The logs? They were thrown overboard! Where they were to be washed ashore would be the settlement. The logs disappeared into the currents of the Atlantic…….. Loki put ashore, dispatching the two slaves with two horses to find the logs, somewhere on that cold and lonely coast. They reappeared a year later and led the Vikings to the logs at a place they named “Reykjavik”. What a film that year could make!
5
They described the island as being “wooded”. That may have been big bushes, or the now extinct, Icelandic Birch trees. Natives? It seems Celtic monks were already there, the “Westernmannen”, as the Vikings called them. Recently the ruins of their chapels and “cells” have been found. But soon, “Loki of the Ravens” had had enough, and set sail for Norway. His view across the mountains in winter gave him the name “Iceland”. Soon Vikings came, and they settled. Any monks who had been there were now gone. Within a generation the Vikings became Christians. The king who facilitated this was the great communicator, Harold Bluetooth of Norway. The “Bluetooth” on your phone is in honour of him. All of Norway and what became Denmark and Sweden, the Western Isles of
Roman Catholic bishop Jón Arason was beheaded in 1550.
Scotland, the Isle of Man, Orkney and Iceland became part of the Catholic Church. I forgot Shetland and Faroes, and my own part of South West Lancashire. One Bishop of Reykjavik was canonised. Then, disaster…… the Danes conquered Norway. In 1540 the king of Denmark decreed that all his subjects were to become Lutheran. This was not popular in Iceland, but reluctantly, after the beheading of the Bishop of Reykjavik, the people conformed…….” The greatest tragedy to befall Iceland”, as a Lutheran professor at Reykjavik university recently described it. But, as we know, the Church comes back! Today there are 30,000 Catholics – half of them are Icelanders. When I was on a recent visit a girl proudly introduced herself to Harold Bluetooth of Norway.
6
Above: Bishop Dávid Tencer of the Diocese of Reykjavik celebrates Mass at the Cathedral of Christ the King. Below: Bishop Dávid on his visit to Pope Francis.
me as, “the great, great, great, great granddaughter of the first Icelander to return to the Catholic faith….. When the cathedral was built a farmer brought a wooden statue to the Missionaries. It had lain in a woodshed since the reformation. It had lost a hand. When St. John Paul II visited Iceland he was so touched that he sent a crown from Rome, which now adorns the statue in the cathedral. There are five Masses there, all full, every Sunday, in Icelandic, English, Polish, Spanish and Latin.
Many people continue to believe in the trolls and “hidden people” of pre-Christian times. The volcanoes, geezers, hot springs and earth-tremors run down the island, along the crack where the tectonic plates of America and Eurasia meet. There are glaciers. I visited one. I also got to see the Northern Lights, but only as a small dim green cloud. I got to eat old shark meat- better than it sounds (or smells!) Black pudding, made from sheep’s blood rather than pig’s, is popular, but not on sale in the cafés. It is eaten with….guess what!? Rice pudding! For centuries Iceland was isolated and poor. It is now a proud and independent nation, with a population of over 300,000 (about that of Newcastle) and no longer poor. The language is what the Vikings spoke a thousand years ago. So, modern Norwegians do not easily understand them. It would be like modern English and Scots listening to old Saxon, as spoken a thousand years ago….Eastenders meet Beowulf !? Like Nicaragua, Iceland has no army. There are police, and a good Navy- remember the “cod wars”?! I met some great people, both immigrants, tourists, and Icelanders. They are sports mad, especially soccer (please don’t think of their massacre of England a few years ago!)
7
Blue Lagoon in Iceland - the most extraordinary geothermal spa in the world.
Closing remarks: With the Isle of Man, Iceland boasts the oldest parliament in the world. DNA: over 90% of male DNA is Norwegian (Viking) Over 80% of female DNA is Celtic – (mainly Cumbrian) No doubt some of the first women were captives, picked up on the way. One man told me he never understood why people on British TV wore coats indoors. Then he visited Edinburgh and realised that we don’t know how to heat our houses!
Pray for the recently- returned Catholic Church in Iceland. 8
Tips for visitors • Accommodation is a bit expensive, but there are reasonable places to stay if you look around. • You need to take all your clothes off for a shower before you are allowed to swim, either in the outdoor hot springs, or swimming baths. (Its all about hygiene) • Until you break the ice (!?) Icelanders are a bit reserved, like the English. If you really want to meet the locals, it is at the municipal swimming pools - not the pubs. • Everyone, even the primeminister and the archbishop, is called by their first name. • Everyone takes off their shoes when they visit or go indoors. • Wear clean socks! Reyniskirkja, church on Reynisfjara Beach near Vik i Myrdal, South Coast, Iceland.
Homecoming and Returning When a student in London in 1970’s I lived at Mill Hill, where the Mill Hill Missionaries had their HQ. On my wall I had a poster which said ‘Life’s a voyage that’s homeward bound’ (A quote by Herman Melville). This seems relevant to the theme of this year’s Annual Ecumenical celebration for the feast of St Mungo. St Mungo was driven out of Glasgow by the anti-Christian king Morken of Strathclyde around 565AD and made his way through Cumbria to Wales where he worked as a missionary for many years … but eventually came home to Glasgow and is credited with the founding of that city. Hence the four symbols of the fish, bird, tree and bell – all stories linked to the saint. We are familiar with homecoming and returning …people coming back to Scotland for Christmas, soldiers returning from war, our children returning from college or university. But there is another type of homecoming that involves returning that is much more difficult; and that is returning to our true selves after being “away.”
Saint Mungo, also known as Saint Kentigern.
9
For for this to happen we sometimes need a good jolt to the system to wake us up, an experience which lays bare the truth of our lives. This was the case of the Prodigal Son, the Gospel chosen for this celebration… In his experience of want and loneliness the younger son had an awakening: “Here am I with nothing to eat…I will go back to my father and say to him “Father, I have sinned against heaven and earth I am not worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired men”. The father’s reaction is interesting. He does not let his son finish his speech but clasps him in his arms in love and forgiveness…and then tells his servants “Let us celebrate with a feast because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life, he was lost and is found” There is a rabbinical (Jewish) tradition that says that when we had to leave the Garden of Eden
10
we experienced this as a loss, an emptiness, a sadness, an ACHE - and our whole lives consist in trying to deal with this ache …. to find our way back to the Garden and into the arms of our loving God. Because we live in a world where many of us want to find an instant remedy for dealing with emptiness or pain we easily reach for the bottle, the remote control, something to fill the emptiness, to take away the ache. We know that a few glasses of wine deadens the pain - for a while - but does not remove it. We remain, like the Prodigal Son, unsatisfied because we are far from home, from our true selves, from the One who loves us. Addressing his own experience of ache/emptiness, St Augustine wrote “You touched me, Lord, and I have been hungry for you ever since.” And famously he concluded that “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” In our efforts to “return” there is
some very good news … There is a Jewish Story of how God, before the Fall, would regularly rendezvous with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Then one day God turned up but there was no Adam or Eve – and he was devastated. Since then, goes the story, God has been searching for them/us because he has lost part of his creation. In losing us God experiences the ache as well because in losing us, he has lost part of Himself … and so, we Christians would say, he becomes incarnate, he became a human being. The God who became flesh in JESUS now shows us how to address the issue of the ache/ emptiness – because he experienced it, too. Jesus is the seeking God made flesh (The One who leaves the 99 sheep to go after the lost one …. ). And so just as the Prodigal son came to his senses and returned home, to a Father who was there with open arms to welcome him back, so the invitation is there for each of us: to set aside our desperate searching for happiness outside of God, in the things of creation, and to wake up to the
The Return of the Prodigal Son by Pompeo Batoni (1773). (Luke 15:11–32)
fact that it is only when we open ourselves to the embrace of the loving Creator, that we will truly have arrived home. “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
11
One never knows by Sr Sally Hyland SJG It’s so true; one never knows. God’s grace is ever operative, in mysterious and wonderful ways. Let me tell you of one such experience.... The evening was a celebration of poetry, the gift of poetry, the music of the soul. The venue was St Columbanus’ Hall in scenic Howth, Co. Dublin. Despite the wet and windy weather conditions, the people trooped in, greeted each other in muted tones and settled down into the comfy red, upholstered chairs. The ambience was good, warm and inviting. Three fantastic musicians/singers set the tone with poignantly beautiful renditions.
12
The evening rolled along; various poets and writers read their work, entertaining, stimulating and evoking. The final poet, a local woman, Christina Molloy, was introduced. She read a poem, entitled, Untold. However, she not only read it - she lived it and relived it, reading each line with evident sincerity and unconscious but highly effective theatrical expression. She relived it like a soul gasp from her deepest centre. Each syllable, each line etched itself into our receptive beings, generating and stimulating memories, imagination and possibilities. We had a Seamus Heaney experience, which succeeded in its effort to “catch the heart off guard and blow it open” (Spirit Level, 1996). The poet lamented things unsaid, so much left unsaid, while at the same time encouraged us to speak, to talk, to communicate; to name, claim and share our feelings, our regrets and sorrows, our gratitude, love and appreciation. The poem urged us to say the obvious and even the seemingly unsayable, to tell our story, especially to the young. The poet’s voice dipped, lilted and rose in soft cadences, inviting us to savour, not just the well-
chosen poetic words, but, above all, to translate those words into action - to live our truth, to be prophets and seers of sensibilities, to transcend and transform the most mundane experiences with golden touches of expressed feeling. The poem invited us to say it! To take the risk and plunge beneath and soar beyond the surface, to burst open creative windows of wonder, to be seers and sayers of not only the obvious but also the hidden. To expand awareness, tap into the unconscious and make it conscious, so we can all become more real, more authentic, more human, more at ease. When the poet concluded her poem, there were audible gasps of appreciation, followed by enthusiastic applause. Obviously the listeners were profoundly touched. Harvesting the energy of the moment and adding another dimension, Christina explained: “I once read that poem in a hall elsewhere and afterwards a tall elderly gentleman approached me with tears in his eyes, saying: “Thanks for that, I am now going off to ring my daughter with whom I have had no contact for fifteen years.” More audible gasps followed. There was an almost tangible, emotional shift in the
13
room, as we all touched into our own life’s journey of “so much left unsaid.” The event over, as we restacked the chairs, I went over to thank Christina, who said: “I am completely overwhelmed with awe and gratitude. One never knows....” She then discretely pointed out a tall lady just exiting. That lady had thanked the poet, quietly adding, “I am the daughter of the tall, elderly gentleman. I want to say a sincere thank you.” One never knows where or when grace will break through.
Sr Sally Hyland sjg.
14
UNTOLD So many things we leave untold But we must get them out before we grow too old. We spend too much time waiting for a better time For something to be said. We can’t stand behind the mourner we don’t know them well enough They might think we’re over-stepping the mark, All kinds of useless stuff. Worst of all the petty feuds that close a mouth for good Better to be overly kind than overruled by ‘should’ Rather too much fire than none at all So many things the next generation don’t know Because we don’t take time to explain to them before they grow They get busy...they leave...we forget...and now they’ll never know The old landmark ...Our stories ... their stories... The Greatest story ever told, UNTOLD ...
Long Singut 50 Years On
Deep in the Borneo Rainforest by Fr Mathews Olili, mhm (Fr Mathews is a Mill Hill priest from Kenya)
In the Spring Advocate this year, Fr Tom Connors described his first visit to the Catholic community in Long Singut, Sarawak, Malaysia. It was over 50 years ago. They were Catholics but they had never seen a priest. They had been baptized by a catechist. Fr Tom wrote: “Despite the fact that a priest could only visit them a few times a year since I first went there, I have to marvel at how they have survived and thrived so well as Catholics.”
The dense Borneo rainforest.
15
I have been visiting the Long Singut Community in recent years. As I witness to God’s love among these people, it becomes clear to me that Christ has been with these people before our arrival. The journey to Long Singut is long, very long. It is within the Kapit parish area, but it takes one and a half days to reach this remote community deep in the Borneo Rainforest. We travel by boat and by pick-up and have an overnight stay in some huts on the river bank. Despite the length of the journey, the word ’Long’ in the name ‘Long Singut’ has nothing to do with distance. Rather, the place where two rivers meet is referred to as ‘Long’ in the Kenyah language, the language of the inhabitants of this beautiful place.
The Long Singut people
Simple, beautiful, graceful, committed and hardworking are some of the adjectives that can be used to describe these people. Yet, I also feel that they are numbered among the last and the least of society. During the Lord’s time on earth, he had a preference for the well-being of the last and the least (Mat 18:11, 20:16, 25:40). These included the powerless, the sick, the handicapped, the tax collectors, the prostitutes and others who were disadvantaged. Even now, Long Singut people are disadvantaged in many ways and fit the description of those who are in need of special care in our pastoral work. These people, who manage to survive mainly by hunting and fishing, are cut off from the world as we know it: no social amenities, school, hospital, shop, electricity and the likes. The nearest health clinic and Primary school, which are in Entawau, take more than half a day’s journey by boat from Long Singut - an expensive trip for these economically poor people. To make Simple living and hardworking, the Long Singut people are things worse, the also very family orientated.
16
rosaries which they have been doing with great interest. Through it, they are also involved in a way in evangelization. Though a small contribution, it will hopefully make a difference in their lives and their children’s lives. Every time I visit Long There is a real sense of community amongst the people. Singut, I feel that the majority of the people in Long people there are true Singut are not citizens of Sarawak witnesses to complete trust in - because they refused to become God’s providence. Despite all the Muslims; therefore, they are odds, their smiles, angelic voices, disadvantaged in terms of access graceful dances, community spirit to school, medical services, as well and strong faith in God leave me as other services that benefit feeling stronger and better. citizens. It is a situation in which, as the locals put it, ‘the unfortunate one who is already suffering the pain from a fall on the ground is added more pain by being hit by a tree trunk’.
True witnesses to trust in God’s providence “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime”, so goes the saying. Seeing how gifted the Long Singut people are in bead-work, we provided some materials and got a group of them to make
An example of the great craftsmanship of the bead work. This item of, mostly ceremonial, neckwear is known as a Tanggu or ‘Tango’.
17
Missionaries Killed in 2021 by Fons 30 December 2021 According to information gathered by Agenzia Fides, in 2021 there were 22 missionaries killed in the world: 13 priests, 1 religious man, 2 religious women, 6 lay persons. This year the highest number of missionaries killed was registered in Africa, where 11 missionaries (7 priests, 2 Religious women, 2 lay persons) were killed. This is
18
followed by America, where 7 missionaries (4 priests, 1 Religious man, 2 lay persons) where killed. In Asia, 3 missionaries (1 priest, 2 lay persons) were killed, and Europe, where 1 priest was killed. From 2000 to 2020, according to data in our possession, 536 missionaries have been killed worldwide.
As it has been for some time, the annual list of Fides does not look only to Missionaries ad gentes in the strict sense, but tries to record all the baptized engaged in the life of the Church who died in a violent way, not only “in hatred of the faith”. For this reason, we prefer not to use the term “martyrs”, if not in its etymological meaning of “witness”, in order not to enter into the question of the judgment that the Church might eventually deliver upon some of them, after careful consideration. At the same time we use the term “missionary” for all the baptized, aware that “in virtue of their Baptism, all the members of the People of God have become missionary disciples. All the baptized, whatever their position in the Church or their level of instruction in the faith, are agents of evangelization” (The Joy of the Gospel p.120). “They could not help but testify” As highlighted by the very little information that could be gathered on their biographies and on the circumstances of death, none of them carried out striking feats or actions, but were “simply” giving
witness of their faith in contexts of impoverished, degraded social contexts, where violence is the rule of life, the authority of the state was lacking or weakened by corruption and compromises and in the total lack of respect for life and for every human right. Once again these priests, men and women religious and lay persons, were aware of all this, they were often born in the same land where they died, so they were not naïve, but “when everything counselled silence, taking cover, not professing the faith, they could not – could not – help but testify” (Pope Francis, Budapest, 14 September, 2021). From Africa to America, from Asia to Europe, they shared daily life with their brothers and sisters, with its risks and fears, its violence and its deprivations, bringing in the small daily gestures Christian witness as a seed of hope. Parish priests killed in their
Fr Cosmas Ondari mhm was standing outside his church while meeting refugees. At that moment soldiers entered the church compound at high speed in an army vehicle. As they drove by, they started shooting. At this the refugees fled into the church. Cosmas was still outside when he was hit in the thigh and chest. He was taken to hospital, but on arrival there pronounced dead.
19
communities, in Africa and America, tortured, kidnapped by criminals in search of non-existent treasures or attracted by the mirage of easy redemptions or to silence uncomfortable voices, that urged not to passively submit to the regime of crime; priests engaged in social works, as in Haiti, killed to rob them of what was needed to run such activities, or even killed by those they were helping, as in France, or in Venezuela, where a religious was killed by thieves in the same school where he taught young people to build a future; nuns chased and killed coldbloodedly by bandits in South Sudan. And still many lay persons, whose number is growing: catechists killed by armed clashes together with the communities who animated South Sudan; youths killed by snipers while trying to bring aid to displaced people fleeing clashes between the army and guerrillas in Myanmar; a young man killed because of a mine which exploded in the Central African Republic while traveling in a mission car; an indigenous catechist, activist for the respect of human rights in a
20
non-violent way, killed in Mexico. All of them “could not, could not help but testify” with the strength of their life given out of love, fighting every day peacefully against arrogance, violence, war. (SL) (Agenzia Fides 30/12/2021)
The
Why and the How Approaching life’s horizon By Gordon Marino
“If we have our own ‘why’ in life, we shall get along with almost any ‘how.’” In his famous Holocaust survival memoir, Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl cites this quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Idols. Frankl explains that he did not follow his fellow inmates who took their lives by running into the electric barbed-wire fences because he kept alive the hope of being reunited with his recent bride, Tilly. Unbeknownst to Frankl, there would be no reunion with his beloved. She, along with both of Frankl’s parents, was turned into smoke and ashes in the death camps. Elaborating on Nietzsche’s wisdom, Frankl writes: “A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the ‘why’ for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any ‘how.’” Take note of Frankl’s “almost.” Now, in my own fifth act, I look back and shake my head in wonder at how I survived some of my travails, many of them self-inflicted and none of them on the order of what Frankl suffered. But he and Nietzsche were right: when you are slipping into the abyss, purpose is a life raft, one that I clutched. There was, however, an additional something that kept me going in my younger days: I still harboured the bone-deep but unwarranted confidence that, no matter what happened, I had an open field in front of me. I had time.
21
If having a purpose - be it writing a novel, a bucket list of trips, or seeing your grandchild graduate - is your “why,” what happens when the floor falls out and the realization of all those shiny plans becomes impossible? Suppose, for instance, you have been looking forward to retirement, and two weeks after your office farewell party, you go in for the medical test you have been putting off. You make an appointment with the doctor, watch the clock in the waiting room, and thirty minutes later are called into her office. With a somber countenance and head hung low, she gently informs you that you are approaching your life’s horizon. You can read between her lines. The fact is, with the days left you won’t be able to do much except read or stare at the television during those moments when you are able to shake the death shudder and drag your mind off the mass quickly metastasizing in your brain. To live a purpose-driven life when you can’t really do anything anymore is also a hard way to go. Where then is the “why” that promises to give you the “how”? I like to think - and I stress the word “like” - that when illness or accidents permanently nail me to myself, I will at least be able to reach out and express care and love for others. And yet, I have been around enough deathbeds to know such subtly heroic acts of tenderness won’t come easily. Pain and hopelessness are a recipe for anger, agitation, and impatience. You might be able to put on a brave face,
22
but try caring about the fact that your neighbour’s son has just been let go from his job when you are in the agonizing process of disappearing from the world. Then there is the green Gorgon of envy. You may not be deathward bound but only incapacitated. Couchridden, the hearth of the boob tube always burning, you watch NFL players zipping around, but the only thought you can muster is: Why does the guy down the street get to run marathons in his mid-sixties, while I am two years younger and chained to the couch in the living room? Why me? Why am I forced to abide in this solitary prison of suffering and doom? When the hammer of serious illness strikes, word gets around. If you are lucky, friends and neighbors are kind enough to deliver meals, but after a week or two of this you begin to feel you should somehow reciprocate. But how? This sense of being in debt is another lance in the side. You tell yourself, wisely, that accepting your neighbour’s hot-dish is an advanced lesson in the vulnerability of being human. Tolerating vulnerability is one of the pieties of today. You understand, but accepting acts of charity still feels sickening. In a powerfully plangent tune, “Angel from Montgomery,” the late John Prine sings, “to believe in this living is a hard way to go.” Amen. To live a purpose-driven life when you can’t really do anything anymore is also a hard way to go. My long-ailing mother had a hard way to go when she took herself off
all meds and let herself die. Suffering from severe arthritis osteoporosis, she had been prescribed a medication that caused both her hips and shoulders to fall out of their joints. Because of her frail condition, they could not be put back in place surgically, and she resolved to let go of life. My memory of those darkling days and nights is foggy but, as I recall, it took almost two weeks for her to die. Just as she started knocking on heaven’s door, my mother called her grandchildren to her bedside, put her bony hands on their heads, and chatted with them. She was careful not to scare them but also wanted to let them know what good people
she thought they were becoming. A few days later, after all the goodbyes had been said, she turned her head to me and, with a wisp of a grin, remarked, “Dying is not like it is in the movies.” Still, until the curtain of consciousness came down, my mother sustained her “why” of trying to remain a loving person and one faithful to God. It has long been taught that one of the most important lessons we can teach our children is how to die. My mother was a virtuoso teacher. We’ll see what kind of student I was. I hope - no, I pray - I can maintain the “why” even when the circle of my “hows” has shrunk to the size of a pinhead.
‘Sarah Trumbull (Sarah Hope Harvey) on Her Deathbed,’ 1824 by John Trumbull, (Wikimedia Commons)
23
Join us in our
Novena
of Prayer to
St Joseph Novena prayers will be said at 9am Mass in St Joseph’s House beginning 10 March and ending 18 March. If you wish to receive a copy of the St Joseph’s Novena booklet please contact Angela on 0141 883 0139. Price £2.50 (including postage).
24
Obituaries
LET US PRAY FOR OUR DEPARTED
Recently deceased Mill Hill Recently Deceased Friends Missionaries and Benefactors Fr Dick Marcus mhm Fr Joe Holmes mhm: Fr Joe was the former rector of St Joseph’s, Cardonald, and editor of the St Joseph’s Advocate. Fr Julian Wild mhm
Alice Kelly, sister of Fr Bill Tollan mhm Sadie Harrison, (Donegal), the aunt and godmother of Fr Bernard Fox Ishbel MacMillan, well known Friend of Mill Hill, a good dancer and bearer of joy. Robert Lawson (husband of Moira Lawson and brother-inlaw of Fr Bill McAvoy mhm)
Silver Circle Winners October
239 McGarry
£25
268 Hutcheson
£15
102 Armstrong
£10
November
200 McKay
£25
78 Brennan
£15
28 Williams
£10
December
204 Quinn
£25
351 McDonald
£15
372 Colman
£10
January
15 Rose Gallacher
£25
198 Pat Howie
£15
189 Agnes McGhee £10
Congratulations to them all. Many thanks to all who support the Silver Circle. Your help is greatly appreciated, and contributes to supporting our missionary work.
25
Coming Events: Dates for your Diary at St. Joseph’s House, Cardonald • The Meditation Group at St Joseph’s House will start again Tuesday 23rd February at 11am. • The Wednesday talks will resume Wednesday 2nd March at 7am. • There will be a Lent Retreat Day led by Sr Sally Hyland and Fr Bernard Fox Saturday 26th March from 10am - 4pm. (As places are limited, booking is essential) • Annual Prize Draw: (for the Pithoro School project) will take place on Saturday 4th June. • First Fridays of the Month: Mass for the Sick at 10am. • First Saturdays of the month: Mass and Fatima Devotions at 10am.
Pope Francis’ Prayer to Saint Joseph Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. To you God entrusted his only Son; in you Mary placed her trust; with you Christ became man. Blessed Joseph, to us too, show yourself a father and guide us in the path of life. Obtain for us grace, mercy and courage, and defend us from every evil. Amen. (Composed by Pope Francis in Patris Corde.)
26
27
St. Joseph’s House, 30 Lourdes Avenue, Cardonald, Glasgow G52 3QU. Tel: 0141 883 0139. Email: tollanmhm@yahoo.co.uk Registered Charity Number: SCO39809
Visit our website to learn more about the work of the MHM’s
www.millhillmissionaries.co.uk
