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The Sacred Heart
SANTA’S WOOLLEN SOCKS John Callanan SJ PARENTS: THE LAST TRUE AMATEURS Paul Andrews SJ HAPPY COOKING THIS CHRISTMAS Marie McGuirk
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EDITORIAL JOHN LOOBY SJ
We Go On
In my first editorial I thought I should introduce myself and in this my final editorial maybe I should recall why The Sacred Heart Messenger came into being, and why it still appears every month 127 years later. I remember some Greeks in St John’s Gospel approached the disciples and said that they would ‘see Jesus’. The Messenger over all that time has tried to help us see Jesus as he comes today into our lives, into the world in which we live, in which there is so much joy and so much suffering. He is a man who knows our joys, and knows only too well our suffering. The epidemic of refugees that recently hit Europe, desperate people fleeing in danger of their lives and hoping to reach safety, is not new to him. He was only a child when Joseph had to flee in the night, taking him and his mother to safety in Egypt. Yet Jesus spoke always of God’s love and in his compassionate love he cured those who approached him. The Sacred Heart Messenger speaks of the compassion of Christ for us and for all our fellow human beings. I think there is hardly any other time when we are more Christ-like than when we show compassion for others in need. Sean O’Casey, who lived in the time of what we call ‘the troubles’, and knew the sufferings of the poor slum dwellers of Dublin, put it well:
Sacred Heart of the Crucified Jesus, take away our hearts of stone… and give us hearts of flesh… Give us Thine own eternal love!
I pray that the Sacred Heart will keep us safe from all harm this Christmas and in the New Year. I welcome Donal Neary SJ as our new Editor, and he joins with me in wishing you peace and joy.
Sincere good wishes to our readers and friends around the world. May your Christmas be full of Joy, happiness and prayerful adoration. May you be united with your family and friends. May you feel the warmth of Christ’s presence among you and experience some of the happiness Joseph and Mary felt on the night that Jesus was born. With love from all at The Sacred Heart Messenger Office.
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CONTENTS The Sacred Heart Messenger is an official publication of the Apostleship of Prayer ADDRESS: Messenger Publications 37 Lower Leeson Street Dublin 2 Ireland Phone: 01 676 7491 (or 00 353 1 676 7491) Fax: 01 6767493 (or 00 353 1 6767493) E-Mail: sales@messenger.ie Website: www.messenger.ie Articles to: THE EDITOR Business Letters to: THE MANAGER Cheques payable to: THE SECRETARY EDITOR: John Looby SJ LAYOUT: Messenger Publications Design Department
Pope’s Intentions 4 John Looby SJ
Gospel According to Mark 7 Carmel McCarthy RSM
Parents: The Last True Amateurs? 11 Paul Andrews SJ
Masterpieces of Christian Art 14 Eileen Kane
Film Review: National Gallery 17 Brendan Staunton SJ Dublin’s Historic Churches 20 Christopher Moriarty Moment With A Poet 23 Sr Jo O’Donovan Gospel as told by a Sheep at Bethlehem 26 Sr Susan SMSM Daily Offering 27
Prayer Calendar 28
Gardening 30 Helen Dillon
Santa’s Woollen Socks 32 John Callanan SJ Our Readers Write 36
NIHIL OBSTAT: Noel Barber SJ, Censor Deputatus
Cooking 38 Marie McGuirk
IMPRIMI POTEST: + Diarmuid Archbishop of Dublin
PRICES FOR 2016: Price monthly: €1.50/£1.25 Annual subscription 2015 from promoter or newsagent: €18.00/£15.00 Annual subscription by post Rep of Ireland and N.I.: €25/£21 Annual subscription to Britain: £24 Annual subscription to EU and ROW: €30/$40 © All rights reserved.
Adult Crossword 40
Young Readers’ Pages 41
A Short Story: Christmas Gifts 44 Paula O’Brien
In the Master’s Footsteps 49 John Murray PP
Cora’s Shed 52 Georgina Downes
Fragments 56 Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
DATE FOR YOUR DIARY
OUR NEW EDITOR, DONAL NEARY SJ, WILL FEATURE ON RTE RADIO ONE’S DAILY 2-MINUTE MEDITATION A LIVING WORD AT 6.15am, FROM DECEMBER 14 TO 18. Repeated late at night at 12.58am.
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POPE’S INTENTIONS JOHN LOOBY SJ
Experiencing God’s Mercy PRAYING WITH THE POPE That all may experience the mercy of God, who never tires of forgiving. I am writing this article on April 20th, the day after over 700 people drowned off the Libyan coast and only a week after another 400 drowned when their boat sank on the same journey to Italy. In the last 10 days more than 12,000 people have paid exorbitant prices, have suffered hunger, thirst, over-crowding, and danger from fellow travellers, all to reach the safety of Italy. They are refugees from war and starvation, prepared to risk anything to escape an inhuman situation. Pope Francis speaking from his heart cried out: ‘In sorrow, I call on the international community to act decisively and quickly in order to avoid similar tragedies’. He speaks to our humanity, ‘these people are men and women like us, brothers and sisters, hungry, persecuted, exploited, in search of a better life, in search of happiness.’ This has been the cry from his heart ever since he became Pope now over two years ago. He has compared the human condition to a field hospital during battle. So just as he asked the pilgrims in St Peter’s Square to pray for our brothers and sisters, he asks us in the
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month of December 2015 to pray ‘that all may experience the mercy of God, who never tires of forgiving’. That was his urgent message to the newly created Cardinals last February. ‘I urge you to serve the Church in such a way that Christians will not be tempted to turn to Jesus without turning to the outcast… I urge you to see the Lord in every excluded person who is hungry, thirsty, naked; to see the Lord who is imprisoned, sick, unemployed, persecuted; to see the Lord in the leper – whether in body or soul – who encounters discrimination! We will not find the Lord unless we truly accept the marginalised!’ Speaking that Sunday in February on the cure of the leper in Mark’s Gospel, Francis noticed that Moses, who ruled that lepers be cast out by society, was attempting to protect the healthy. And he would see something similar happening when EU countries refuse flatly to give asylum to the refugees from Africa for fear their countries be ‘over-run’ by refugees. They washed their hands of the problem when last year they withdrew financial support for
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the Coast Guard services, which rescue the unfortunates who are in danger of drowning when their unseaworthy boats overturn. They gave the specious reason that the refugees would not come if they knew there was no one to rescue them. But the refugees came anyway; they came in ever greater numbers because they were desperate. And the numbers drowning continue to grow. The Pope is shouting because no one wants to know. And the Pope reminds us that we should help them because their suffering is real and they are human like ourselves, our brothers and sisters. When Christ saw people suffering, he saw brothers and sisters, and he came to their help. Pope Francis’ logic is clear: if that is what God did, surely it is what we could expect man to do. God in Christ was saving the world, saving in particular the poor, the suffering, and the marginalised. That was not some-
thing totally new for God but in Christ it was most dramatic and unmistakable. It is all there in the Bible, that succession of efforts by God to set man up in conditions where we would expect him to be happy. Each time man has not only turned on God but even on his fellow man. Each time God is upset, but he does not wash his hands of the human race; each time he makes a new start with new hope; God is merciful. So God chose a special people, a chosen race who would be different. He even rescued them from slavery and led them personally to safety. He gave them a land of their own. This time it would be different: He would be their God and they would be his people. A new covenant. But things got so bad that he withdrew his protection of them and allowed Babylon to overpower them and enslave them once more. But God was merciful and sent prophets with messages of hope. They were
Stranded refugees in front of Keleti Palyudvar train station on 4 September, 2015 in Budapest, Hungary.
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If anything marks the life of Christ it is his mercy to the poor and the sick.”
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freed to return home, to rebuild their Temple and their land. ‘A new heart I will give you and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will take out of your flesh the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you’. When this failed to change things it would almost seem as if God was running out of options; so if a chosen race could not live the good life, God must turn to a single man, a man after his own heart. God loved the world so much that he sent his own son that we might be saved; in his mercy he did not give up on the human race. If anything marks the life of Christ, it is his mercy to the poor and the sick. And his Father was finally able to say, ‘here is a man in whom I am well pleased’, and added almost desperately, ‘listen to him!’ It is significant that while Christ was dying on his cross, his final prayer to his Father was a plea for mercy. ‘Father forgive them, they know not what they do.’ Because Christ identified with his fellow human beings, his brothers and sisters, God sees in us, what he sees and loves in Christ. Finally, maybe man can hope to live in the image of God, if he can only bring himself to be merciful. Shakespeare, that shrewd observer of man’s efforts to attract attention, saw that mercy is twice blessed, it blesses him who gives and him who receives. But it cannot be forced, it must come from the heart.
Look at the blind spots in your life. Mt.9:27-31 First Friday: 4 December ................................................................. ................................................................. ................................................................. ................................................................. ................................................................. ............................................................... ................................................................. ................................................................. ................................................................. Petitions may be sent to us on this form, or on any piece of paper. All petitions received are placed on our Sacred Heart Altar, and Mass is offered for them on Friday each week. SEND TO:
The Sacred Heart Messenger, 37 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin 2, Ireland.
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PRAYING WITH MARK’S GOSPEL CARMEL McCARTHY RSM
Who Do You Say That I Am? Mark 8:27-33 Choose a place where you can be undisturbed. Become aware of God’s presence in you and around you, asking the Holy Spirit to guide you. Then read the gospel and accompanying notes slowly to enter more deeply into this passage. Read the gospel passage again, this time even more slowly and prayerfully. Taking one word or phrase at a time, notice what seems important to you. You may find it helpful to jot this down. Notice how central to the story Jesus is, and what that means for you. See if you can answer the question Jesus asks you personally.
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Now Jesus and his disciples set out for the villages of Caesarea Philippi. On the way he questioned his disciples, saying to them, ‘Who are people saying that I am?’ They said in reply, ‘John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others one of the prophets.’ And he questioned them further, ‘But you – who do you say that I am?’ Peter said to him in reply, ‘You are the Christ.’ Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him. He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He was saying this openly. Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.’
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Notes on Mark 8:27-33 Preliminary Comment: This scene constitutes the climax of the first half of Mark’s Gospel, and the moment when the disciples appear to come closest to understanding who Jesus is. Caesarea Philippi: More than fifty kilometres northeast of Lake Galilee, this city was capital of the territory inherited in 4 BC by Philip, son of Herod the Great. The area formed the Northern
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tip of the land of Israel. the way: This word is theologically significant for Mark, who uses it on seventeen occasions. Here he states clearly for the first time that Jesus’ way leads to the cross. Following in the footsteps of a crucified leader, this spiritual journey will gradually familiarise Mark’s readers with what true discipleship means.
‘Who are people saying that
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I am?’: This first part of the question yields inadequate answers, and prepares for a more authentic response. The real issue is not so much the identity of Jesus, but the identity of God. Is God the one who is acting in Jesus?
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That Jesus suffers and dies means that he is truly human. That he will rise again points to his truly divine nature.”
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‘John the Baptist … Elijah … one of the prophets’: While all of these are worthy servants of God, they do not meet the decisive criterion: is this the one in whom God acts decisively for human salvation? ‘But you – who do you say that I am?’: Jesus’ question moves from ‘outsiders’ (people) to the ‘insiders’ (you). Reciting answers others have given is no substitute for personal faith. The verb is plural in Greek, addressing the disciples as a group. ‘You are the Christ’: Speaking for all the disciples, Peter gives the correct answer, ‘the Christ’. But does he really understand what this means? The Greek ‘Christos’ translates the Hebrew ‘Messiah’ = ‘anointed one’. In the Old Testament, prophets, priests and kings were ‘anointed’ for their respective roles. In Jesus these distinct roles coalesce. To call Jesus ‘the Messiah’ means that we confess Jesus to be the definitive spokesperson for God (prophet), who reconciles humanity to God (priest), and who is designated by God to inaugurate the ‘kingdom of God’ (king). not to tell anyone about him: This is yet another instance in
which Mark uses this literary device, called ‘the messianic secret’. During the journey narrative about to unfold, part of this ‘secret’ will gradually emerge. Even if Peter has given the correct answer, from Mark’s literary perspective, it will not be possible to understand the full implication of Jesus’ words until he emerges as a suffering Messiah. He began to teach them: Jesus now fills the traditional words with new content, linked intrinsically to three passion predictions.
the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected: In Mark’s account, this is the first time that Jesus explains that being Messiah involves suffering, death and resurrection. It is worth noting that all three passion predictions include resurrection. by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes: The Pharisees are conspicuously absent from this list, as are the Romans. be killed, and rise after three days: That Jesus suffers and dies means that he is truly human. That he will rise again points to his truly divine nature. Peter began to rebuke him: On a human level, this shows Peter’s concern for Jesus, but on a theological level, we see Peter resisting vehemently the suffering dimension of the Messiah. Looking at his disciples: This is not an issue between Jesus and Peter alone, but an issue
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of discipleship. Whereas Peter’s rebuke of Jesus was private, Jesus’ rebuke of Peter included the disciples, and became a teaching opportunity. ‘Get behind me, Satan’: Strong language! In New Testament
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times Satan came to symbolise the principle of evil, so Peter’s rejection of a suffering Messiah places him on the wrong side of the struggle. Jesus’ rebuke includes a renewed call to discipleship.
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It is possible to hear Jesus’ question on many levels, and also to answer it on many levels.”
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Suggestions for Praying with Mark 8:27-33 This question of Jesus to Peter lies at the centre of Mark’s Gospel. In the first eight chapters the question keeps coming up – who then is this? At the midpoint of the gospel, Peter’s reply in Caesarea Philippi is correct, but it will require a long spiritual journey inward before Peter can even begin to grasp what discipleship will require of him. It is possible to hear Jesus’ question on many levels, and also to answer it on many levels. For us today, as in ages past, the central focus concerns who Jesus is for us as individuals, and as members of the Christian faith community. Sometimes our prejudices blind us as to what true discipleship entails. Yet, just as Jesus never gave up on Peter and the other disciples, he will not give up on us. It might be helpful to write your personal answer to this question as Jesus addresses it to you today. You might reflect also on how your answer to it has matured over the years. Concluding Prayer All-embracing and ever-present God, You have given us Jesus to be our friend and saviour in our journey to you. May we always seek to be true disciples, living in gratitude for your many gifts. Amen.
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WORDS OF WISDOM PAUL ANDREWS SJ
Parents: The Last True Amateurs Priests watch marriages from the side-lines. We have been close to hundreds or thousands of marriages, but for most of us it is a view from the edge, like a landlubber admiring the life of sailors. It is easy for us to romanticise, to fail to allow for the effect of time: waking to the same face on the pillow; the same companion at breakfast, for the hundredth, the thousandth, the 20,000th time. It is expressed in a nice word with Latin overtones: diuturnity, the grind of the dayby-day, going on for ages. I watched it as a child. My father was companionable, and if he made a new friend, he relished the chance to tell old stories. When in good form, my mother would listen and laugh appropriately. If she was tired, she might excuse herself or start a separate conversation while Daddy was in full flow. I glimpsed what it was like to try to respond freshly after hundreds of hearings. In this spectacle I have had a good seat, a privileged postion on the sideline. For a while it was the view of a teacher, in some sense a partner of the parents. Like any partner you become aware of the other partner’s strength and weakness, as they do of your strengths and weaknesses. Mary Doyle, watching her son Noel come home
from school, knows accurately which teachers work for him, which of them correct homework, prepare classes, are able to control the crowd; above all, which teachers like their pupils and which are really beyond it. And Noel’s teachers, if they are awake, can have a precise sense of which children have a large place in their parents’ minds, and which of them are just surviving almost unnoticed at home. The signs of it are in their dress, their hygiene, their bright or baggy eyes, their contentment. When parent and teacher are secure enough to trust one another, to expose their flanks and work together for Noel, the effects show quickly. Then my seat was shifted, when I became a school principal. Now that is one tough job. The day-to-day pressures are intense and multiple. The pupils test you, to see are you really in touch, are you just (much more important than kindness in this job), and can you take a bit of aggro. The staff test you: can you distribute burdens fairly among them, control the school, and maintain an overall vision. The parents test you with demands for good results, competent teaching, no bullying, clean and warm conditions, and an eye to the individual pupil; and that you be accessible. On top
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There is one last area of amateurism, and it is the most important of all: parenting.”
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of that there are demands from the Department of Education, or past pupils’ unions, or even outsiders like journalists and other pressure groups. As a seat from which to observe family life, it can be privileged but limited. You have an insider’s view of many families. It is confidential information, to be used with the utmost discretion, and only in the children’s interests. It was a relief to move to a still better view of the family, that of a therapist. It happened by accident, first through the requests of parents to ‘work with’ a troubled child; and that led me to undergo a thorough retraining some thirty years ago. It was an awesome experience to have parents invite you to take an intimate view of their children. This was not a matter of assessing them, or applying tests – I had done that for years as a psychologist – but of listening, and reaching
a glimpse of what it was like to be Fiona or Michael, of their joys and fears and ambitions. If therapy worked, Fiona or Michael would emerge with a sense that they mattered, not for their looks or intelligence or achievements, but as little persons with a unique story to tell. When I would meet Fiona’s parents, they would expect to be told that her problems were really their fault. Are we worse than other nations in our tendency to point the finger and think somebody must be to blame? Just as teachers and parents are privy to one another’s weaknesses, yet can be partners in the rearing of children, so parents can be enormously helped by working with an outsider like a therapist whom they have invited to a knowledge of their children – not to be scolded by him, but to reach a sense of their own importance.
www.messenger.ie To say that parents are important is not to say that they are to blame. Our national constitution insists that they are the primary educators – meaning what? That they teach us to read, choose a school for us, get to know the teachers, possibly work on boards of management? It goes way beyond that. Education is what remains when we have forgotten everything we learned at school. And that is the mark left on us by parents. They taught us by what they were, fallible and faulty, well-meaning but inconsistent, but all the time passionate about us: the only people to whom we as children were unique and irreplaceable. That is what matters, and all the books about parenting are useful only insofar as they start with that. In present mediaspeak, people like police, teachers, actors, are often praised for being ‘true
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professionals’. Professional has become an almost sacred word. There was a time when England’s cricket team comprised two classes, gentlemen and players – the latter meaning that they were paid for playing. Now nearly all the players we watch in any sport are professionals. In the world of work, all the highly skilled jobs are paid and professional. There is one last area of amateurism, and it is the most important of all: parenting. Parents are the world’s last true amateurs, unpaid workers in a highly skilled job. And they are effective, and loved by us, not for their skills and professional expertise, but because they are amateurs, which means lovers. They work for love, not money – no wage would pay for the hours they put in, the tasks they undertake.
With sincere appreciation to our promoters, readers & benefactors
Through the generosity of our Promoters, most of our readers are able to receive the Messenger at the lowest possible cost. THANK YOU. Be assured that the Lord will bless you for your help in making better known His name and the love of His heart. Thank you also to all of you who sent donations during the past month for the spread of devotion to the Sacred Heart and for other good causes. You are all remembered in our prayers and Masses. – John Looby SJ
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MASTERPIECES OF CHRISTIAN ART EILEEN KANE
The Numbering at Bethlehem PIETER BRUEGEL THE ELDER (c.1525–1569) All the details we have, of the circumstances surrounding the birth of Jesus, are given us in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Neither of those gospelwriters makes any reference to the time of year at which the birth occurred. Still less does either of them mention snow! However, since the early years of Christianity, the birth of Jesus has been celebrated in the very depths of winter, on December 25th, just after the winter solstice. Matthew and Luke both provide some historic context for the birth. Matthew places it in the reign of Herod, king of Judaea; Luke, during the reign of Caesar Augustus (31 BC – 14 AD), the first of the Roman emperors. Luke relates that Augustus decreed that a census be taken of the population ‘of the whole world’. This affected Judaea, as part of the vast territories governed by Rome, stretching all around the Mediterranean, westwards as far as Spain and Portugal, northwards to present-day France, Belgium and England. In obedience, therefore, to the law of the land, even though it had been imposed by an occupying power, Joseph and Mary set out from Nazareth in Galilee
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and travelled south to the town of Bethlehem, in Judaea, because Bethlehem, where King David was born, was Joseph’s ‘home-town’, Joseph being a descendant of King David. The journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem would have taken several days and cannot have been easy, especially for Mary, who was heavily pregnant. Even though they probably had a donkey, they would have had to travel along rough and hilly roads, and if it was in midwinter, the weather would have been cold, and possibly wet. In addition, they had to cross Samaria, where the inhabitants were not friendly to Jews. By the time they reached Bethlehem, they must both have been tired and weary from the journey. Pieter Bruegel the Elder, in this painting, (in the Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, in Brussels), shows Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. They come unnoticed by the people there. Mary is seated on the donkey, with her basket in front of her, and her blue cloak covering her from head to toe. As well as the donkey, they have with them an ox, whose tawnybrown colour, and tall horns can be seen alongside the donkey.
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Joseph trudges on ahead, carrying his own few belongings including a large saw, which lies on his shoulder. He is making for the inn, pointing it out to Mary, hoping, as we know, that there will be room for them there. One look at the inn, however, must have dismayed Joseph, for it was already full to overflowing. Bruegel shows the inn door, wide open, and people crowded inside, silhouetted against the warm glow of a fire. Even the attic room is occupied – we can see a man looking out between the half-open shutters. Below him, a large pig is being led out to where a man and a woman
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are slaughtering another pig, watched by a couple of children. Clearly, they expect to be catering for a full house. In fact, in Bruegel’s scene, the inn is where the census is being taken and at an open window a crowd has gathered, waiting to give their names to the two men with large ledgers who are sitting inside. In Bruegel’s painting we see, not the Bethlehem of Judaea that the Holy Family would have known, but a typical village in the artist’s own native Belgium. The buildings have long, steep roofs designed to let accumulated snow slide off them
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easily, not the flat roofs of the Mediterranean countries. The climate too is northern, for while it might get cold enough for some snow to fall in Bethlehem in Judaea, the temperature would never be so low that rivers and ponds would be frozen over, with ice so thick that people could walk on it. Over to the left, in Bruegel’s painting, in the middle distance, some men are carrying heavy burdens on their backs as they cross the ice, and on the right, two small children are playing on it with
their spinning-tops. Nearer to the centre of the scene, two older children have made a slide for themselves in the snow, and are being chided by a woman with a broom. All the people in the painting, including those who are gathered around the inn, are ordinary, working people. Mary and Joseph are in no way different from them. In fact, as we look at Mary and Joseph and think how like everybody else they are, the phrase comes to mind that John uses in the prologue to his gospel, about Jesus coming among ‘his own
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people’. However, as we can see, the people here do not even notice Mary and Joseph. As we know, when Jesus is born, it will not be in the inn, or in another of those houses we can see, but in a cave, and as far as we know, only Joseph will be there. Bruegel has painted this scene as if viewed from above, allowing us to see the whole village at once. The sense of distance is achieved by a gradual reduction in size of both buildings and people. The tree at the left is important. It stands at the ‘Golden Section’, a point, calculated mathematically, that is less than a third, but more than a quarter of the width of the scene, a favourite device of artists of Bruegel’s time – this painting is dated 1566. The tree also serves to mark out the foreground, with the inn and the crowd around it, the snow-covered carts, and the little group of Mary and Joseph arriving. It gives a sense of nearness to the inn, and of distance to the houses and the people on the icedover river. Bruegel also uses its bare branches to create a lovely effect of wintry sunshine. Pieter Bruegel the Elder worked in Antwerp and Brussels. He had two sons – Pieter the Younger and Jan – as well as three grandsons who also became painters.
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FILM REVIEW BRENDAN STAUNTON SJ
National Gallery
Written and directed by: Frederick Wiseman I 180 mins I 2014
Paintings are the stars of this three-hour documentary on London’s National Gallery. Nonfiction cinema is enjoying a golden period; films based on memoirs have been thriving in recent times, for example, Vera Brittain’s Testament of Youth. At the end of this film, National Gallery, about a magnificent obsession, I felt as if I had just finished reading a Henry James novel. This portrait of a Gallery is heavy going at times, and yet very worthwhile, despite some tedious scenes. The board meetings and budget
discussions do not make for lively viewing – accountancy and aesthetics are foes, not friends. The relationship between image and word structures the episodic, eidetic narrative. We get a behind-the-scenes look into every aspect of the Gallery: budget meetings, cleaners, conservationists, frame makers, carpenters, art historians and other experts. So many talking heads complement the many silent scenes of just observing the paintings from this comprehensive collection: more than 2,300
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The rhythm is riveting: close-ups, long-shots, faces, hands, front office, basement research, public programmes, silence and speeches all animate the images and bring the gallery alive.”
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masterpieces, from the middle ages to the 19th century. So this informative, instructional, educational, entertaining film is a rare combination that is truly inspiring. One argument is that painting is everything – is ‘life’: so poetry, ballet, philosophy, history, drama and music (a Beethoven quartet) are all included and linked to particular paintings. Titian, Leonardo, Caravaggio, Velasquez, Rubens and Holbein are the giants that receive most focus and attention. Holbein’s anamorphic skull in The Ambassadors gets a clear angle and focus. Rembrandt gets a detailed x-ray on a work that reveals something not seen at first sight. This, Frederick Wiseman’s forty-first film, is less polemical than other looks at institutions; his admiration for what is on offer in Trafalgar Square is palpable in the minute, metonymic manner of presentation. He was allowed twentytwo days to film in 2012, and then the real creative work of editing began – selecting, arranging and structuring. The rhythm is riveting; close-ups, long-shots, faces, hands, front office, basement research, public programmes, silence and speeches all animate the images and bring the gallery alive. Far from the dusty, musty museum stereotype! This film is a superb showcase. We see the paintings close up; we hear expository analysis of
particular paintings. Rubens’s Samson and Delilah is most enlightening, and brings the work alive, while also leaving your own imagination space to breathe. Do you need to be an art aficionado to enjoy this? Admiring a Poussin or any classical work with a textual basis requires knowing the subject. The more you bring the more you’ll get, but even a novice would be enthralled, and would want to visit the Gallery as soon as possible. This is a fascinating film, full of captivating images and beguiling lectures that inform and inspire because of the feeling and interest conveyed by the speakers – men and women, young and old. Two quibbles: it took two hours or so to get to the 19th century rooms, the Impressionism of Monet, Manet and Pisarro, and the PostImpressionism of Van Gogh, Cezanne and others. After all the inputs on Medieval, Renaissance and Baroque art, no one spoke about any of these founding fathers of modern art. (Apart from a short slide and comment on Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.) The limits of time maybe, but an opportunity lost for a younger audience. Second quibble: art historians are very good on four aspects of art or levels of discourse: sources, intentions, stylistic characteristics and personal enthusiasms or readings. These levels are all
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relevant and enlightening, but contextualising only goes so far. A question I missed being asked is this: what goes on in my psyche when I look at a painting? Much psychological research and effort has gone into answering this, without exhausting all the possible solutions. The psychoanalytic dimension is a gaping void and lacuna. No mention of Freud’s work on the Leonardo. A pity. (We see hundreds queuing in the rain waiting for the Leonardo exhibition to open). So a film with no plot, episodic in the extreme, but one that opens up a cultural history so vividly; that includes the nittygritty of mundane meetings about budgets and sponsorship, alongside the daily grind of cleaning the floors, dusting the frames, changing the flowers; the precision work of restoration; sessions for blind people and
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nude drawing classes (both in the basement!). All this, and the sublime treasures of this exemplary institution with an admirable mission – it’s amazing to think, it’s still free! Next time I visit this gallery, I’ll see much more, thanks to this fabulous film. We’re even told a Moses joke, which is the only light note in the midst of all the academic seriousness, and sublime paintings. The last film I saw set in a gallery was Russian Arc. In one long, uninterrupted take, the camera led us through the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, evoking different periods of Russian history. Both these movies are works of art in themselves, and expand the possibilities of cinema’s language in showing us how culture’s continuity is both manufactured and already there in all our experiencing of life.
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DUBLIN’S HISTORIC CHURCHES CHRISTOPHER MORIARTY
St Mary’s Tallaght
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A few years after the Great Famine, Dominican Friars from Portugal settled in a big house in Tallaght. The country was poor, the rate of emigration was high and the future seemed bleak. Nevertheless, the priory attracted many young men. The community grew in size and in 1864 expanded into the first of several buildings for accommodation and study. They were distinguished mainly by their large size and austerity. In 1882 the foundation stone of the priory Church of St Mary was laid by the Cardinal Archbishop of Dublin, Edward McCabe. The church, in early English gothic style, was tall, long and narrow with a steeplypitched slate roof. It had two entrances: a large door on the west gable, dwarfed by three lancet windows in the upper storey, admitted the villagers. A door on the north side communicated with the priory buildings and served the monastic community. The interior was divided in two by a rood screen which separated the chancel and choir from the rest of the congregation. The community prospered for the first half of the 20th century: close enough to the city of Dublin but more part of a country village than a suburban entity.
All would change in the 1960s when Tallaght began to develop as a large township. Its population increased from 2,500 then to more than 70,000 today. New parishes were established to serve the tens of thousands of people, but the priory church continued to cater for the old village and the nearer housing estates. This led to severe pressure for space for the worshippers so that renewal on a grand scale was needed. The decision taken by the Order was a remarkable one, influenced to some degree by the liturgical reforms put in place by Vatican II, just a few years earlier. The result was the appearance in 1969 of an exciting and extraordinary church. Some of Ireland’s 19th century gothic-revival churches made more space by adding or enlarging transepts, some by increasing their length. Tallaght did neither. Rather than make any attempt at retaining the old style or materials, the builders removed the greater part of the south wall of the church and added a completely modern structure in concrete, the only concession to ancient tradition being an arcade of pointed arches on its outer sides. The axis of the church was rotated by 90 degrees. While the former worshippers had entered by
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a west door and faced the high altar beneath the east windows, they now go in from the south and face a centrally placed altar. In deference to Vatican II, this altar rather than being slightly remote from the congregation is now centrally placed, surrounded by seating to the west, south and east. The Stations of the Cross are arranged behind the altar on the north wall of the church. The architect was Edward W Brady and the work won an award in European Architectural Year 1975. In contrast to the soaring Gothic arches and high windows and roof, the new part of the church has a single storey and a rectangular format. Daylight enters windows surrounding a central raised portion of the ceiling. There are also stained glass windows with bright abstract designs. The central altar is of uncarved dark wood and contrasts with the nearby gothic style organ case.
The church and the priory buildings are set on the edge of the old village in a beautiful park, in part shaded by trees planted in the 19th century, in part an open rose garden overlooked by the 19th century priory buildings and the older portion of the church. Usually closed to the public is an adjoining walled garden where trees and a very ancient ‘friars’ walk’ provide a quiet space for the monks and for those who take part in the retreats they provide. The contemplative life and other aspects of religion have a very long history in Tallaght. A short walk from the priory is St Maelruan’s Protestant Church, another Gothic revival building, with a very much older bell tower. It stands on the grounds of one of the great monastic centres of the Celtic Church. Maelruan, who died in 792, was one of its most distinguished abbots and is credited with the
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All would change in the 1960s when Tallaght began to develop as a large township. Its population increased from 2,500 then to more than 70,000 today”
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establishment of the Culdee movement of preaching monks. The farmland around Tallaght is rich and fertile and that led to its occupation at an early stage by the Anglo-Norman invaders. They built a castle, which was demolished by order of John Hoadley the Protestant Archbishop of Dublin who used the stone to build himself a palace in 1729. The palace was spacious but drab, served for a relatively short time and in 1821 was declared unfit for habitation. It was sold to Major Palmer, Inspector of Prisons and the conditions of sale demanded that it should not be used for religious purposes. Palmer in his turn demolished the palace and used the stones to build a new house. This was sold on and it seems that the noreligion clause had slipped away because this was the house used by the Dominicans when they arrived in 1855. Its remnants are incorporated in the Retreat House, which was built in 1955. The 19th century Dominicans used their centre in Tallaght as a training ground for missionaries who would serve in the West Indies, South America, Australia, India, and elsewhere. Today, Tallaght Priory caters for regular parish duties, sponsors retreats, a counselling centre, publishing enterprises, individual writing and international research and availed of 21st century developments with the establishment of an institute for distance learning.
St Joseph’s PENNY
DINNER FUND
Help to supply
DAILY DINNERS to the poor at home and overseas
All donations will be gratefully acknowledged and should be sent to: SAINT JOSEPH’S PENNY DINNER FUND c/o Fr Paul Farquharson SJ St Francis Xavier’s Gardiner Street, Dublin 1 D01 TX23
Many thanks to all of you who sent money during the past year. Your contribution is greatly appreciated.
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MOMENT WITH A POET SR JO O’DONOVAN
Patrick Kavanagh: Advent
I chose this Kavanagh poem because we are in the Advent season and the poem mirrors the Advent spiritual journey from mind-fasting to spirit-feasting. Published on Christmas Eve, 1942, it is one of Kavanagh’s manifesto poems – manifesto in the sense that here the poet exhorts himself to renew once again his original poetic gift. Having written The Great Hunger and Lough Derg, two lengthy, racy and titillating poems of social realism, he feels he has somehow capitulated to an amalgam of ‘knowledges’, which in Advent, he strangely calls ‘Doom’ – considering such ‘knowledges’ deadly for the
creative spirit. He finds in the Advent austerity of traditional Catholicism a metaphor for recovering his poetic gift. Advent is the time for purification of mind and heart in preparation for the birth of Christ. Its strictures matter to the poet. It’s what he needs at this time – ‘the dry black bread, the sugarless tea’. They become metaphors for forfeiting the extraneous luxury of superfluous knowledge for the one luxury that matters – a child’s soul. The characteristic of the child is wonder, and Kavanagh pits wonder against the deadening effect of excessive knowledge which can submerge our
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capacity for pure attention. We may ask, is this poet before his time, warning us that we have replaced pure attention today with the ‘fear of missing out’, and this because of our instant access to so much knowledge which technology makes possible: We have tested and tasted too much, lover – Through a chink too wide there comes no wonder. But here in this Adventdarkened room Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea Of penance will charm back the luxury Of a child’s soul, we’ll return to Doom The knowledge we stole but could not use. Having inwardly in the heart completed the Advent rituals of ‘the dry bread and sugarless tea’, in the second stanza, the poet looks outward. Making no judgments, he finds in all things a newness. Even the tedious talking of an old fool does not bore. In the last line, the mysterious reference to ‘Time beginning’ (time with capital T) possibly hints at the transformation of time, which the birth of Christ and God’s new way of being with us makes possible. No longer does time have to be dreary chronological time, one event after another. Time now can address us in its moments, call to our faith and be a word to us of divine presence.
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Kavanagh’s desire is always to be ready as a poet to word these moments of time: And the newness that was in every stale thing When we looked at it as children; the spirit-shocking Wonder in a black slanting Ulster hill Or the prophetic astonishment in the tedious talking Of an old fool will awake for us and bring You and me to the yard gate to watch the whins And the bog-holes, carttracks, old stables where Time begins. This new ‘Time’ to which we belong as Christians is a time of graciousness. The concluding stanza of praise expresses this mood. Poetic renewal in the poet is inseparable from spiritual renewal. He mines the Advent spirit – preparing for the Birth and the grace it brings for his own renewal – as a poet. In this concluding stanza the purification he desires no longer comes with effort nor with analysis – ‘and please God we shall not ask for reason’s payment... nor analyse God’s breath in common statement.’ He feels blessed and graced with abundance. ‘Won’t we be rich.’ Everything and everybody is his ‘love’. The incarnation of this graciousness in the poem is the birth of Christ. It hovers delicately over the text like the surprise of a flower in winter. The poet himself believes
www.messenger.ie the poetic insight is always a surprise. And for him it is also a gift of the Holy Spirit. But it must be guarded and nurtured by ‘the spirit that lives alone’ and not wasted on trivia. And so Advent speaks to him of poetic renewal, but his response as a poet also offers a fresh language for appropriating the holy season. O after Christmas we’ll have no need to go searching For the difference that sets an old phrase burning – We’ll hear it in the whispered argument of a churning Or in the streets where the village-boys are lurching. And we’ll hear it among
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simple decent men too Who barrow dung in gardens under trees, Wherever life pours ordinary plenty, Won’t we be rich, my love and I, and please God, we shall not ask for reason’s payment, The why of heart-breaking strangeness in dreeping hedges Nor analyses God’s breath in common statement. We have thrown into the dustbin the clay-minted wages Of pleasure, knowledge and the conscious hour – And Christ comes with the January flower.
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The Gospel as Told by a Sheep
We knew
by Sister
at Bethlehem
Susan SMSM
that something blocked most of the human ones from knowing; however, the soil, the rocks, the trees, the animals, the stars, and the wind knew, ALL CREATION KNEW, except the human ones. The wind carried the news from rock to tree to star. As the young couple moved along the road, all the rocks, the plants, the animals, and even the sun felt a tremendous light and power touch them. It was only right that a stone cave, with some animals warming themselves and eating hay, should receive them for the night. On the nearby mountain slopes, we, the sheep, were whispering to one another; the mothers held their lambs in awe and excitement. The shepherds guarding us noticed their behaviour; and suddenly the shepherds heard music in their hearts. The music was like the sound of dancing stars and their guardian angels whispered through the music that if they walked a mile down to the east they would find a young couple in a cave carved out of the side of a mountain. There would be a newborn baby in the arms of his young mother. ‘The baby is the PEACE CHILD’, sang the angels. Shepherds began to hurry with us; Wind and joy carried us to the cave. And so that night the Peace Child was surrounded by hundreds of woolly sheep. The baby lambs nestled against their mothers and whispered: ‘HE IS ONE OF US!’
Bequest Please remember in your will
‘I give and bequeath to The Sacred Heart Messenger, 37 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin 2, Ireland the sum of €__________ for the general charitable purposes in Ireland of the said Charity. The receipt of the said Charity shall be sufficient evidence of payment of the said sum.’
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DAILY offering Watch, dear Lord, with those who wake or watch or weep tonight and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend your sick ones, O Lord Christ, rest your weary ones, bless your dying ones, shield your joyous ones and all for your love’s sake. Amen.
Pope’s Intentions
With Mary, the mother of our Lord and of the Church, I pray for this month’s intentions as proposed by the Holy Father:
Universal: Experiencing God’s Mercy That all may experience the mercy of God, who never tires of forgiving.
Evangelisation: Families
That families, especially those who suffer, may find in the birth of Jesus a sign of certain hope.
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POPE’S INTENTIONS Universal That all may experience the mercy of God, who never tires of forgiving. For Evangelisation That families, especially those who suffer, may find in the birth of Jesus a sign of certain hope.
SUNDAY
MONDAY
TUESDAY 1st Week of Advent
1
Pray for understanding. Lk.10:21-24
2nd Sunday of Advent
6
St Ambrose, B.D.
7
Immaculate Conception of BVM
8
=
‘Prepare a way for the Lord.’ Thank God for your friends. Say ‘Yes’ to God like Mary. Lk.3:1-6 Lk.5:17-26 Lk.1:26-38
3rd Sunday of Advent
St John of the Cross, Pr.D.
13 14 15
Give generously to the poor. Place a crib in your home Jesus will show us the way. Lk.3:10-18 today. Mt.21:28-32 Mt.21:23-27
4th Sunday of Advent
20 21 22
Pray for the unborn. Lk.1:39-45
Pray for peace this Christmas. Lk 1:67-79
‘Holy is His name.’ Lk.1:4656
The Holy Family
Holy Innocents, Mm.
Christmas Octave
Pray for families. Lk.2:41-52
Pray for children who are suffering. Mt.2:13-18
Faith brings joy into our lives. Lk.2:22-35
27 28 29
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DECEMBER 2015 WEDNESDAY THURSDAY
2
Faith brings healing. Mt.15:29-37
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‘I will give you rest.’ Mt.11:28-30
FRIDAY
St Francis Xavier, Pr.
St John of Damascus, Pr.D. u
Faith brings healing. Mt.7:21.24-27
Look at the blind spots in your life. Mt.9:27-31
3
4
St Damasus 1, P.
SATURDAY
5
Proclaim the kingdom of heaven. Mt.9:35. 10:1. 6-8 Our Lady of Guadalupe. St Finnian, B.
10 11 12
Prepare for Christmas with confession. Mt.11:11-15
‘Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.’ Mt.11:16-19
Jesus is coming soon. Mt.17:10-13
St Flannan, B. (I)
Pray for grandparents. Mt.1:1-17
St John of Kanty, P.
‘God-is-with-us.’ Mt.1:18-25
Pray for those working in hospitals. Lk.1:5-25
The Nativity of The Lord
St Stephen, First Martyr
A Saviour is born to us. Lk.2:1-14
‘He who stands firm to the end will be saved.’ Mt.10:17-22
23 24 25
=
We are all called to do the Spend some time in prayer. Lord’s work. Lk.1:67-79 Lk.1:57-66
Christmas Octave
Christmas Octave
Pray for our Bishops. Lk.2:36-40
Thank God for his blessings in 2015. Jn.1:1-18
30 31
26
u First Friday = Holy Day of Obligation
16 17 18 19
‘My Lord, and my God.’ Lk.7:18-23
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GARDENING HELEN DILLON The Dillon Garden, 45 Sandford Road, Ranelagh, Dublin 6. Open Sundays only (2-6) in April, May, June and September and every day in March, July and August (2-6).
www.dillongarden.com Heart’s Ease, or Viola tricolor, the wild pansy, the first flower I ever remember, seeds around, popping up here and there with its cheerful little face and endless variations of petals, in purple, yellow, lilac, blue and white. Like many wild flowers, it won’t always appear in the same place, and likes to move on by seed to new ground. I presume it uses up the nutrients in the original spot and needs to move on. You may have come across pansy sickness (collapsing at the root) of bought plants, which is very common. Growing the same plant in the same place every year is not a good idea, and some violas have already got this disease when you buy them, so it’s not even your fault. Viola tricolor is a lovely little plant, guaranteed to make you smile, which flowers from April to September and likes a sunny position in well-drained soil. The flowers are edible and make pretty decorations for puddings and salads. Lythrum salicaria or the purple loosestrife makes a wonderful backbone plant for my late summer borders with spires of bright magenta purple. You see it growing wild in many
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damp, boggy places throughout Ireland. My plants came from the ditch on the old Cork road from Dublin, just north of Horse and Jockey. I think it’s a super plant, and never a nuisance, but visitors from North America and Canada become disturbed when they see it because in their climate it is listed as a noxious weed and is loudly accused of smothering many of their native wild species. Some shorter, more red versions have been bred (such as Lythrum ‘Robert’), but give me the original wild one any day. The wild foxglove is in my top ten favourite plants. I love it, but I cannot say the same for some of the new, shorter ones, which are much more blobby, with flowers going all the way round rather than on just one side, and lack the carefree grace of the wild one. This is another plant for which you need to find new positions after a couple of years. If you just want to only grow white ones you can easily tell what colour they are going to be by looking at the midrib of the back of the leaf – there shouldn’t even be a trace of pink. We go round just as the foxgloves are going over towards the end of June and put stakes beside the
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colours we want to keep, then when the seeds are rattling in their pods, broadcast the seeds around. Then, about the end of July we hunt round for all last year’s seedlings – by then two inches or so across – and grow them on in seed trays in case they get damaged by autumn reshufflings. When the garden is tidy in early November we plant them in their permanent positions. We like to have at least fifty foxgloves for May and early June colour. Primula vulgaris, the wild primrose, is a plant I’ve always loved, but I’ve had to give it up (or grow it in a pot) because of the vine weevil – which is a horrible, sneaky, innocentlooking, browny-black beetle, which moves very slowly, and was sometime known as the ‘Ticket Collector’, because it takes u-shaped bites from the edges of the leaves. All vine weevils are female, and all lay up to 1,000 eggs each year – which
hatch into white grubs, a third of an inch long, with pale brown heads. These spend winter chewing away at the roots of primroses, heucheras, saxifrages, and every other plant you are especially fond of. Be warned, always empty out your containers right to the bottom and wash the drainage as well as the pot, as this is where they lurk. Knautia arvensis, the field scabious, makes a wonderful garden plant. I’ve never managed to make the true scabious flourish here, but this wild relation is very welcome. It seeds gently about, with just the right amount of extra plants around 90cm tall, covered for months in a long succession of pale blue flowers, usually decorated with happy bees. It likes warm, well-drained, limey soil. When you see it growing wild it’s often much shorter. Worth deadheading with scissors to encourage even more flowers.
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“
… the wild primrose is a plant I’ve always loved, but I’ve had to give it up (or grow it in a pot) because of the vine weevil.”
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SPECIAL FEATURE JOHN CALLANAN SJ
Santa’s Woollen Socks
Recently, I met a rather elderly woman who had a fascinating story to tell. Well, I liked it anyway. The lady in question was a farmer’s wife, living deep in the heart of Mayo. The memory she told me about was from her long-lost youth and happened on the family farm when she was about ten years of age. The incident took place on Christmas Eve and every moment was still clearly etched in her memory. Our ten-year-old narrator had, as was usual, been sent to bed early and was reminded, in no uncertain terms, that she needed to get to sleep right away as the promised visit from Santa – and the presents he would be bringing – would definitely not be coming her way if she wasn’t tucked up tight and securely asleep when he arrived. In bed, she could hardly contain her excitement. As she tossed and turned on her couch, she thought sleep – and morning – would never come, but clearly both did. The next thing she remembers is hearing the clock strike one. Though the house was as silent as a grave – she distinctly thought that she heard a snoring sound coming from the kitchen area downstairs. Something was wrong. There should be nobody down there at that
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hour of night. The sound was coming from the very area that the kids had left their Christmas stockings. Santa wouldn’t deliver if anybody was around that particular area. She had to do something. Even though she was terrified and filled with all kinds of trepidation, she couldn’t just lie there and do nothing. She had to know if the presents had arrived. With that in mind, she slipped out from between the sheets and, ever so quietly, descended the stairs. She did all this on tip-toe, and noiselessly as a mouse. Down below her, the door to the kitchen was a little ajar. It was scary, but she could distinctly hear a contented snoring coming from within. Inch by inch, she made her way forward. Now she was nearly in line with the door and the gap in front of her allowed her to see a tiny portion of the kitchen. The lovely old family cooker – an Aga – was just about visible inside and had its door open. That was unusual. A little of the lighted fuel inside was visible and you could almost feel the warm glow giving its heat out to the room. It was what was in front of the glowing coals, however, that nearly made her die of anticipation and excitement.
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As the door was a tiny bit ajar, it allowed her to see two large feet, clad in a pair of red socks, comfortably propped up in front of the cooker! She was certain she could make out some of the toes within the socks wiggling with pleasure as they regained their warmth. Everybody knows that if you come across Santa in the middle of his deliveries he’s not likely to be pleased. I’ve even heard it said that he can get a bit upset if he’s discovered in the midst of his generous acts, for he’s so shy about displaying that generous side of his nature that he may not complete his deliveries if his presence is revealed. That’s what our ten year old had heard also and it was the very thought that went through her mind as
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she stood petrified outside the kitchen door. If he woke now and spotted her, disaster loomed. Not only her own presents, but also those of her brothers and sisters were likely to be forfeited. The terror of being discovered gave her wings. It enabled her to get back to her bed without a sound and, next morning, she was more than happy that all presents had been delivered and they were exactly where they should have been. Her not being spotted had saved the day. For years, she says, she never told anyone in the family about her close escape. Certainly her brothers and sisters would have murdered her if they had
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“
It was many years later that she plucked up the courage to let them know about the night’s events.”
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known how close they were to losing their presents that year. It was many years later that she plucked up the courage to let them know about the night’s events. Only then did she find out what had really occurred. The Christmas Eve in question had been one of the worst in living memory. Desperate weather had brought rains, chaos and flooding. Many local farmers had suffered greatly and her Granny and Granddad – who lived in the adjoining farm to theirs – had been particularly badly hit. During that Christmas Eve, unbeknown to them, those aged grandparents had fought with all their might to save their crops and home. Very late that night, the weather had finally got the better of them and they were forced to flee their premises as the waters rose all around them. As their son’s establishment – which was also the little girl’s home – was close-by, they had made their way to their son’s abode and had arrived around midnight. Knowing the
whole household was already in bed, the elderly couple had wrapped themselves up in blankets and settled down in front of the kitchen stove where they had dropped off to sleep almost immediately. It was the grandfather’s snores – and his woolly red socks – that the little girl had chanced upon during her memorable saunter downstairs. The rest of the couple had been hidden from her because most of the kitchen was not visible, but the small opening that allowed her to see a portion of the room had clearly offered a view of her grandfather’s red socks. The night’s events – and her image of Santa – still, in her old age, held a sense of mystery for her, and she never wanted to destroy the delight the season always brings to her. She suspects that the magic element of the feast continues to enhance her Christmas experience. Perhaps a similar sense of mystery can enhance our Christmas faith story if we allow it to!
THE SACRED HEART MESSENGER & THE JESUIT CENTRE for SPIRITUALITY and CULTURE present a Christmas
Concert with
at ST IGNATIUS CHURCH, GALWAY on TUESDAY 15th DECEMBER 2015 Doors open at 7.30pm u Concert begins at 8pm
Tickets €20
at www.messenger.ie
or phone Frances on 01.7758524 Proceeds to COPE Galway
Tickets also available from Cope Galway, St Augustine Street, 091 569715 Let’s help together
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Our Readers Write in Praise and Thanksgiving All thanksgivings sent to us are remembered in our Friday Mass each week. A promise to publish a thanksgiving is amply fulfilled by sending it to us. THANK YOU Dear Father Looby, Just to say thank you for taking care of The Sacred Heart Messenger over the years. The Messenger and The Sacred Heart Calendar are so helpful in many ways and for them I am most grateful. With every good wish, A promoter MANY FAVOURS Dear Rev Father, Please publish in the holy Messenger my grateful thanks to the Sacred Heart for my grandson’s government job, my granddaughter getting into college, another granddaughter getting a suitable job after returning from Australia. I also found a lost set of keys. Thanks Sacred Heart. Please cure my loneliness. Health and happiness to my family. Grateful lover of the Sacred Heart HOPE WHEN HOPELESS Dear Father, I am writing in thanksgiving to the Sacred Heart for many favours granted over the years, including in particular, solving a decade’s old housing situation
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and obtaining a new job at a time when it seemed almost hopeless to expect either to be resolved. Publication was promised. Yours sincerely, Anon STILL PRAYING Dear Father, Grateful thanks to dear Sacred Heart of Jesus. This is a very belated thanks for many favours granted by the dear Sacred Heart, since I was very young and through my married life. I am still praying for other favours. Also Our Lady of Lourdes, Mount Carmel, Fatima, the Miracle Prayer, St Claire and all other saints I have prayed to, other favours asked for. Many thanks. Publication promised
SUDDENLY I COULD BREATHE Dear Father, Thanks to Jesus for saving my life when I called on him to save me during an anaphylactic shock from allergies. I couldn’t breathe, I called Jesus save me and he answered my cry for help, suddenly I could breathe. Thank you Jesus, Mary, St Joseph for taking care of my son when he had a heart procedure done. Also for the healing that’s
www.messenger.ie in the process of coming to me down to his most precious blood and his five holy wounds. Thanks to Jesus for all the blessings and graces to me and my family every day and night, for his love and protection and mercy. Thank you Jesus for the healing that you are working in my niece who has cancer. This time last year she had only weeks to live. I prayed to the holy wounds for a miracle. She is still with us and improving. A grateful sinner
LITTLE MIRACLES Dear Father, I’m writing to give thanks to the Sacred Heart, His Blessed Mother and all the saints that intercede for me. Over the years my family and I have received so many favours too numerous to mention, and what I’d call little miracles. This letter is long overdue. I continue to pray every day and give thanks for all that He does for my family and me. Sacred Heart of Jesus I place all my trust in you. May the Sacred Heart of Jesus be everywhere loved forever. Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, pray for us all. I pray now for my grandson to have health and happiness in his life and contentment and wealth for my daughter and her husband. Gratefully yours, A worried mother
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HELP RECEIVED WITH DECISION MAKING Dear Father, Very grateful thanks to the Sacred Heart and His Blessed Mother for helping me with a decision about work recently. I’ve always put my trust in the Lord and Our Blessed Lady as I know they will put me on the right path. I’m also praying for another intention, that I may get acceptance of and more patience with communication of family members and to show God’s great love to all whom I come in contact with: Thank you Lord for so many favours down through the years, most especially for my health! A very grateful mother HEARTFELT THANKS Dear Rev Father, Please publish yet again my most heartfelt thanks to my best friend, the Sacred Heart, for a very good health result for my daughter after many tests for one of the most serious conditions that most people fear. She still has to keep in contact with the hospital but so far so good. I begged and begged the Sacred Heart, who always helps me, and Our Lady and Saint Joseph and promised publication and once again he has answered my prayers. A most unworthy sinner
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COOKING MARIE McGUIRK
Happy Cooking this Christmas I wish all our readers a very stress-free and Happy Christmas. I hope these recipes will help over the holiday period.
FESTIVE ALMOND BISCUITS 75g/3oz butter chilled and cut into pieces 115g/4oz self-raising flour 75g/3oz ground almonds 100g/4oz caster sugar 50g/2oz marzipan cut into 20 cubes 1 orange zested and juiced 50g/2oz icing sugar METHOD n Rub the butter into the flour and ground almonds. Add half the sugar and work the mixture in your hands to form a soft ball. n Roll the pastry out thinly between two pieces of cling film. n Cut out star shapes with a star cutter. n Soften the marzipan and place a small ball on half the stars. Place the other half of the stars on top and press together. Brush with a little orange juice. n Mix the zest of the orange with the icing sugar and sprinkle over the biscuits. n Bake for 18 – 20 minutes at 140°C. Cool on a wire tray.
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CIDER AND ORANGE ROAST TURKEY BREAST WITH RED CURRANT GRAVY 1 turkey breast 3-4 lbs weight 50g/2oz butter Rind of one large orange 1 leek trimmed and halved 1 large carrot halved Seasoning ½ pt dry cider ¼ pt chicken or vegetable stock GRAVY ¼ pt dry cider ½ pt turkey or chicken stock Juice from 1 orange 1-2 tbsps redcurrant jelly METHOD n Wipe the turkey breast with damp kitchen paper. n Lay the vegetables on a small roasting tin or a casserole dish. n Mix the butter with the orange rind and rub it all over the breast. Place the turkey on top of the vegetables and season. n Pour in the cider and the stock. Cover tightly with tinfoil and place in a preheated oven at 170°C/340°F/No 5 Gas. Cook for 1 ½ hours approx (depending on weight). n Pour off the cooking juices into a saucepan and add the stock, juice from orange and cider for the gravy. Bring this mixture to boiling point and
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boil to reduce by half. n Add the cranberry jelly and boil to dissolve. If you prefer a thicker gravy dissolve 2 tsps cornflour in a little water and thicken gravy with this. n Season to taste before serving.
DRESSED CRAB CUPS 200g/8 oz fresh cooked crab meat 3 tbsps mayonnaise 1 tsp Dijon mustard Good squeeze of lemon or lime juice Little chopped dill or parsley
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Salt and pepper A little gem lettuce, leaves separated and washed 8 cooked crab claws Lemon wedges Sprigs of dill or parsley
METHOD n Mix the crab meat, mayonnaise, mustard, lemon juice and dill together. n Season to taste. n Place a little gem leaf on each plate and fill with crab meat. n Decorate with claws and garnish with lemon and parsley.
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The prize is €100 for the first correct solution opened. Judge’s decision is final.
ENTRIES MUST REACH US BEFORE THE 24th OF THE MONTH.
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WIN €100! ADULT CROSSWORD
Send to: Adult Crossword 512, Messenger Publications, 37 Lr Leeson St, Dublin 2, Ireland
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I DECEMBER 2015
Address: ___________________________________________
512
Name: ____________________________________________
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ACROSS 1. Ride for very long period of time (5) 4. Give false account of girl going by gallery (8) 8. Hurray, do some paving! (3,3,3,5) 10. Attack makes flight impossible (3,6) 11. Appetising savoury (5) 12. Arkwright did not take in a single boarder (4) 13. Countryman has drink after 6.50 (8) 17. Shouted loudly, ringer was in debt (8) 18. Jets’ way reversed as a joke (4) 22. Policemen bearing trees from thicket (5) 24. A canny one bothered by chagrin (9) 25. Where customers stand among workers in a factory (2,3,4,5) 26. Early food cooler (8) 27. Dialect of Stirling originally (5)
DOWN 1. Officer inclined to be taken in by the second man (7) 2. Screech redirected at a curlew (9) 3. Match gold leaving hot line endlessly initially (6) 4. Mould of tram developed before nine (6) 5. Satanic lady? (3,5) 6. Sign of a sneak? (8) 7. Portugal’s flow of capital (5) 9. Cloth stainer coming from Ryde (4) 14. New instrument for beginner (9) 15. Got over anaesthetic at the same time (8) 16. Slip into the red having fallen back (8) 17. Dashing fellow has responsibility to pass (4) 19. Her boot damaged lute (7) 20. Ozone’s dispersed during short sleep (6) 21. Attractive woman, that’s as much as viewer can take in (6) 23. Peter to appear in show for children (5)
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Name: ______________________________________________
Address: _____________________________________________
Send to: December Crossword, Messenger Publications, 37 Lr Leeson St, Dublin 2, Ireland
ACROSS 1. The best Christmas decoration (4) 3. You need one for each fairylight (4) 7. Benefit (9) 8. Not always (7) 12. The real deal (9) 14. A county in Ireland or a white sauce (4) 15. How your granny would make a Christmas jumper (4)
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CHILDREN’S CROSSWORD: WIN €30!
I DECEMBER 2015
DOWN 1. A train on the street (4) 2. These guys are really helpful at Christmas (5) 4. A large portion of America (3) 5. How you make tea (4) 6. To come apart (7) 9. Mass used to be said in ___ (5) 10. Tranquil (4) 11. Native of a British county (4) 13. A doll is just one (3)
SEPTEMBER CROSSWORD SOLUTIONS & WINNERS
ADULT CROSSWORD ACROSS: 1.Kiss-curl; 6.Secede; 9.Callow; 10.Gold-rush; 11.Perspiration; 13.Edith;
14.Inclement; 17.Imperfect; 19.Index; 21.On the rebound; 24.Pentagon; 25.Reagan; 26.Rennet; 27.Tympanic. DOWN: 2.Ivan; 3.Saltpetre; 4.Unwary; 5.Leg-spin; 6.Self-rule; 7.Carat; 8.Disjointed; 12.Adam and Eve; 15.Monodrama; 16.Affright; 18.Cabinet; 20.Quorum; 22.Hit on; 23.Nazi. ADULT CROSSWORD WINNER: Mary Dunne, Monasterevin, Co Kildare CHILDREN’S CROSSWORD ACROSS:1.Samoyed; 7.Air; 8.Eject; 9.Chew; 10.Acre; 13.Nepal; 15.Cup; 16.Ignored. DOWN: 2.Agree; 3.Omen; 4.Ewe; 5.Balcony; 6.Attempt; 11.Cycle; 12.Also; 14.Pug. CHILDREN’S CROSSWORD WINNERS: Barry O’Donovan Jnr, Bandon, Co Cork, Age 13; Finola McManus, Enniskillen, Co Fermnagh. Age 7. COMPETITION WINNERS: Mai O’Connor, Tralee, Co Kerry, Age 7; Kate McKenna, Tralee, Co Kerry. Age 7.
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One of the winners of our September competition, Mai O’Connor, Age 7. Mai comes from Tralee, Co Kerry.
SARAH’S NUMBERS
PHOTOGRAPHY COMPETITION
COMPLETE THE GRID SO THAT EACH ROW, EACH COLUMN AND EACH 3X3 BOX HAS THE NUMBERS 1-9
3
9
2
4 5 9 7 3 9 3 8 5 3 7 9 2 3 8 2 1 2 6 3 8 7 9 8 4 3 5 6 7
SEND US YOUR BEST AND MOST ORIGINAL CHRISTMAS PHOTO! The
winner will receive a certificate and a €30 prize. Entries can be sent by email to s.brady@messenger.ie, or by post to Young Readers’ Pages, Messenger Publications, 37 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin 2. Don’t forget to include your name, address and age. HAPPY SNAPPING!
DECEMBER CHILDREN’S COMPETITION: DRAW OR PAINT A PICTURE AND WIN €30 THE BEST 3 ENTRIES EACH RECEIVE A PRIZE OF €30
TOPIC: The first Christmas
December Competitions, Young Readers’ Pages, The Sacred Heart Messenger, 37 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin 2, Ireland, or your scanned entries by email to competitions@messenger.ie *Remember: entries for all competitions – including the crossword – must reach us no later than 24th of the Month. Please remember to include your age.
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CHAPTER 4
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SCAREDYCATS
Fearless Finn came back from school, hung up his bag and coat and sprinted up into the attic. It had been a whole month since he discovered his house was haunted. His new best buds, Twanky and Hassie, were waiting upstairs with peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Twanky was having tuna flakes on his as well. Tinned fish was always a special treat for a fluff monster. Hassie was managing, slowly but surely, to get used to Finn. He had gotten more used to him than any other human he had ever had the misfortune to meet. ‘How was school, Finn?’ ‘Grand, grand. We have to write a report on our best friend and give it to the teacher tomorrow.’ ‘So who’s your best mate, then?’ Twanky asked with a mouthful of tuna-jam goodness. ‘Well, I’ve only been living here about six weeks so I don’t really have any mates yet. So I was going to write my report about you two guys.’ Twanky was loving it. ‘I can see it now, Hassie, our names in lights as Fearless Finn has to read his report to the whole school.’ He chuckled and chomped another sandwich. Hassie wasn’t convinced. ‘I’m not sure that this is such a good idea.’ ‘Why, Hassie?’ ‘Yeah, why not, Hassie?’ ‘A report about a ghost and a monster!? Your teacher will have you in a straightjacket before break time.’
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Finn had a lump in his throat. ‘But you are my only friends here. All my other friends live on the other side of town.’ Just then, Finn’s mother called him. ‘Finn, have you seen the peanut butter?’ ‘Coming now, Mammy!’ Finn turned to the lads and said, ‘I’ll tell her we ran out the other day.’ ‘Good lad,’ said Hassie as he licked the jar clean. Finn walked down the stairs, looking a little bit gloomy about his homework. When he was gone, Twanky flicked a fluff bogey at Hassie to get his attention. ‘Come on, Hassie, let him write the silly thing. Don’t be so heartless!’ Twanky was positively covered in sandwich crumbs now and pieces of tuna and peanut butter stuck to his fluffy face. It made it hard for Hassie to take him seriously. ‘Well, as a ghost, I don’t actually have a heart, but I know what you’re saying. I’m no meanie. I just don’t want more people to know about us, and I don’t want him to get into trouble.’ Twanky snarled and patted Hassie on the back. ‘It’s only a measly homework report. His teacher probably won’t even read it. What’s the worst that could happen!?’
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A SHORT STORY PAULA O’BRIEN
Christmas Gifts
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It was to be the usual pre-Christmas visit from her twin brother. She had prepared her appearance as best she could. Unlike some of the Sisters, Margaret never used make-up or jewellery, but her frilly blouse looked good. Although there was no disguising the signs of Parkinson’s in that left hand, her mind, she said to herself, was as alert as ever. She might need it today. Tony sometimes made digs about her waste of a life. Although she had given up arguing with him about faith, or the whole Church thing, she hoped that one day he would recognise the silent core of her joy – he might scoff at a word like that. With Tony she needed to find the right tone, as when they were children. Then, they had shared a wavelength beyond words – and in those days everybody could see that. Sitting in Parlour Two, with its bay window looking out on the garden, she offered a prayer that the visit would go without too much tension. Let it be worthy of Christmas. The doorbell echoed in the corridor. Sister Ita would open it and bring Tony here. ‘The readiness is all’, said Shakespeare in Hamlet, an echo from her teaching days. A firm knock on the door and Ita showed Tony in. ‘Here’s your brother bringing all sorts of
things’, she said. Ita was carrying a large box and Tony had two smaller parcels. With one in each hand, he opened his arms and embraced her. ‘Happy Christmas, dear, good to see you’. ‘Thanks for coming, Tony, and on such a cold morning’, said Margaret, aware of her emotions. ‘I brought you things you probably don’t need, but it’s Christmas. I could hardly come empty-handed’. ‘I don’t have anything for you – except myself’. ‘What could be better? We twins need one another’. There was no mockery in his voice. ‘I’ll come back with some tea,’ said Ita. ‘And you’ll stay for lunch I hope. There is nice salmon’. ‘I love salmon but I have a working lunch in the city. I still do consultancy from time to time. Thank you, Sister, all the same’. Ita departed and Tony pulled the large chair closer. ‘You look fairly well, Tony. Perhaps a little thin’. ‘I could say the same about yourself. How is the Parkinson’s?’ ‘Controlled with a few tablets for the moment. On the phone you mentioned tests. How did they go?’. ‘I don’t know the results yet’. ‘But you know something. I
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see it from your face’. ‘I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you’. He spoke faster than usual. ‘They found a growth in the colon, but they are not sure what kind’. ‘That’s terrible, Tony’. Margaret reached out and touched his hand. ‘You’ll have to pray for me then’. Again no mockery. ‘You’ve never said that to me before – in all these years’. ‘Well I can’t do it for myself. So who else except you?’ ‘I’ll pray for your healing every day’. ‘Thank you, but, Margaret, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about lately. More important than not dying is how to live what remains, longer or shorter. Do you understand me?’ With some clattering at the door, Ita arrived. The worst possible moment, thought Margaret. But after fussing over sandwiches and biscuits, Ita left
them again. ‘Tony, I’m shocked with your news, and yet touched by what you said. Yes, I sometimes wonder about praying for miracles. It can make God into a puppet-master. But I believe in asking to live more fully. Is that what you meant?’ ‘In my way, yes. I’ve never been religious. I said “prayer” to make sense to you. It still means nothing to me. But I want my sister’s support through whatever is to come. There is a generous quality of life that I lack and that I would like to discover before the end. Pray for that’. ‘That’s beautiful. You’ve certainly been thinking about it all’. ‘When they tell you there is a tumour, even an atheist starts thinking. So I am not fighting with my saintly twin, but telling you what I hope for. I wanted to come today without my usual sarcasm’. Margaret had tears in her eyes
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and did not hide them. She was about to hug him when a knock at the door was followed by the bustling arrival of Sister Alice, the superior. ‘I just wanted to say hello to Tony and thank him for the huge cake. We’ll be eating it until Easter. But I see you have hardly touched any of the food here. I suppose you’ve been talking so much together’. Alice was capable of a longer monologue but Margaret cut in to say that it was only a short visit and yes they had much to say. ‘And how are your children, Tony?’ asked Alice undeterred. ‘Both children have their own children now’, said Tony. ‘One family is in Germany, the other in Australia. So Margaret becomes my nearest and dearest’. ‘Well, isn’t that just lovely?’ said Alice. ‘A Christmas present in itself.’ ‘It has been a special visit’, answered Margaret, adding silently ‘until now’. Alice seemed to get the message. ‘Well, I’ll leave you, and every blessing for Christmas, Tony. You won’t be on your own surely for the twenty-fifth’. ‘No, I go to my wife’s sister’s family’. ‘That’s nice for you, but now I’ll let you enjoy your chat. God bless’. Alice shook hands with Tony and left. Brother and sister looked at one another, shook their heads, and laughed. ‘Have we lost our thread?’ asked Margaret. ‘Not really. Perhaps you need-
ed time to take on board what I was saying’. ‘I had steeled myself not to get into arguments about religion and so on. Instead you are religious in your own way. Your hopes for quality of heart, if I can put it that way’. ‘Yes, that was the main thing I wanted you to know. The health battle is on another level. Don’t worry yourself too much’. ‘But how could I not be worried? You have to do everything to win that battle’. ‘Let’s see what the doctors propose. You are to pray for that other battleground. That’s what I ask, because I can’t pray for myself”. ‘Are you so sure about that?’ ‘Let’s not go down that road. Not today. It’s been good to talk the way we have’. ‘With two unfortunate interruptions’. ‘They made no difference. Perhaps they even helped’. He glanced at his watch. ‘But now I’m afraid I must leave you. I promise to phone, ok?’ Margaret went on automatic pilot. She was never good at farewells, but walking slowly she accompanied Tony to the main door, then a long embrace and he was gone. Back in Parlour Two she opened the two packets. One was predictable, luxury chocolates. The other was a compass that was also a clock. And on a little card, ‘Let us find the North together in the time left to us’. The magic space of twins was inhabited again.
CALENDAR & AOP 2016
2016 Sacred Heart Calendar 2016 Living Prayer: Apostleship of Prayer Following the success of last year’s editions, we have sourced more beautiful photos of Pope Francis to feature for 2016. Sacred Heart Calendar 2016
Pope’s Intentions Principal feast days of the year Brief thought for the day based on the gospel reading
Living Prayer: Apostleship of Prayer
Introduction to the Apostleship of Prayer Forms of the Daily Offering A monthly reflection on the Pope’s Intentions The liturgical calendar for each month The gospel reading for each day
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Redemption Road
Brendan McManus Struggling to come to terms with his brother’s suicide, Jesuit priest Brendan McManus decides to walk the Camino de Santiago.
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The Great Reformer
Austen Ivereigh This biography of Pope Francis describes how this revolutionary thinker became who he is, and how he will use the power of his position to challenge and redirect the Catholic Church. €25.50
Cry of Wonder
Gerard W Hughes In Cry of Wonder, Gerard W Hughes, author of God of Surprises, encourages readers to explore their own human experience, the unique doorway opening each of us out into the mystery of our present existence. €17.99
Praying with Ignatius of Loyola
Jacqueline Syrup Bergan, Sr Marie Schwan CSJ Integrating the life of Ignatius with principles of spirituality, and offering an entry point for the reader through quotations and prayer inspired by Ignatius. €12.50
Walk With Me Into The Light
Margaret T Naughton Practical, thoughtful and empathetic, this is a book for both the bereaved, and for those who walk with them along the difficult road to acceptance. €3.99
Jesus: An Historical Approximation
Jose Antonia Pagola This controversial biblical rereading of the life of Jesus has become a bestseller. €43.00
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I DECEMBER 2015
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IN HIS MASTER’S FOOTSTEPS JOHN MURRAY PP
The Amazing Antwoman: Satoko Kitahara
It was Christmas Eve, still a few hours before midnight. The priest walking the quiet country road was lost in his thoughts and the approaching feast. He found his steps easier off the busy road following the path a tractor had made earlier in the day. Somehow his thoughts strayed back to his years in Japan and the remarkable woman he had known. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were words again on our lips this year as the world remembered the tragic events of 1945. The war in the East came to an abrupt end. In the aftermath there was a time of reckoning for the Japanese people as they suffered the fallout of the atomic bombs but also the incredible poverty, which decimated places like Tokyo. The poor of the countryside flocked to the cities, which in turn could not cope. The people also came to realise that their nation had betrayed them as they learnt of the war crimes and brutality, which their soldiers had committed in the cause of war. The Japanese code of honour and civility had been severely tarnished. Many became disillusioned. Satoko Kitahara was born in 1929 of an aristocratic family. Indeed her ancestry came from Samurai warriors and Shinto
priests. When the war ended she sought refuge in her studies – her subject was pharmacy – and regained a sense of serenity in living. Yet the quest for a deeper meaning to life was paramount for her. One day Satoko happened upon a Catholic church in Yokohama city where she lived. Inside she experienced an inner awakening, which began to challenge her own cultural beliefs. She enjoyed the peace she felt there and soon sought out the chaplain and some Spanish nuns who were able to answer her many questions. She felt especially drawn to Mary and to prayer. On October 30th 1949, Satoko was baptised into the faith choosing the names of Elizabeth and Mary. Soon Satoko met Br Zeno who was a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate Conception, which had been instituted by Maximilian Kolbe when he was in Japan. Zeno had developed a ministry among the homeless and needy along the Sumida river, an area known as ‘the village of ants’ because of the incredible overcrowding and constant activity there. The people survived by collecting and recycling from the garbage dumps. Satoko was disturbed. ‘I lay
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down in bed but could not sleep. Br Zeno, unable to read Japanese, had bridged a chasm separating two nations and cultures. He had discovered a part of Japan I did not know existed less than a kilometre from my home. I lived surrounded by carpets and gas stoves while he went without even an umbrella into the terrible twilight world of destitution.’ Soon she began visiting the area each day to teach basic grammar to the children as well as music and hygiene. Not everyone welcomed her. Professor and Boss were two local leaders who had been raised in Ant Town. ‘Why do you come here?’ they asked. They were proud that they had been able to help the Ant people form a community and cling to their only surviving possession – their dignity. They were suspicious of charity and those who offered it. Satoko too began to feel the difference. ‘I had thought I was a great Christian because I condescended to dole out some free time, helping the Ant children with their homework! It hit me now. There was only one way to help those children and that was to become a ragpicker like them.’ It was a radical decision to leave aside her privileged life and live as one of the people of the village. Soon she too was collecting and selling material, making something of the rubbish others threw away. Her education and innate skills enabled her to organise a room
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for study as well as a cafeteria. Soon a classroom and meeting hall followed as she negotiated with the city authorities. Her own devotion to Our Lady gave her the strength she needed in the task. The locals in this Buddhist land even began to call her ‘The Mary of Ant Town.’ However over the years the work and the conditions took their toll on Satoko’s health and she ended up in hospital. Even Professor came to visit her. She had gained his grudging respect and he wanted her to return to the town but only when she was well again. Yet when she did she experienced a great disappointment – her place had been taken by a couple and the Ant Towners seemed not to have missed her. She felt crushed and alone. ‘I will only return,’ she told Boss and Professor, ‘when God calls me.’ The two men were impressed. They reflected on her convictions. ‘If that God inspired Satoko to help us I want to have that God too.’ Shortly afterward both men were received into the Catholic Church, a faith they had once so despised. There was to be one more miracle for Satoko. For years the city Council had wanted to get rid of the eyesore that was Ant Town. They wanted to disperse the inhabitants and redevelop the area. However, if the ‘Ants’ could come up with a huge sum – 24 million Yen – they would sell them a permanent piece of land. While Professor
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and Boss and others went to the City, Fathers Satoko prayed. ‘Remember, Professor, she said,’ that years ago I promised to lay down my life for Ant Town. That moment has come.’ When the leaders met with the officials one of them produced a book Satoko had written years before – ‘The Children of Ant Town’. It had impressed him. He announced that the city would accept a much smaller token payment for the property. Ant
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Town had been saved. Three days later Satoko died of the illness she had been carrying for years. She was 28 years old. She is the first Japanese person to be declared a ‘Servant of God’. The priest continued walking, but noticed that the huge tractor wheel had crushed an anthill, which had lain in its path. The ants scurried about but without purpose and direction. He thought again of Satoko and the Midnight Mass.
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I
SERIAL STORY PART 2 GEORGINA DOWNES
Cora’s Shed
The story so far: Cora retreats in the evenings to her little wooden shed by the river, especially now when there is tension in her home, following a needless argument with her husband that has been allowed to go on for too long. While there, she muses on the upcoming engagement party she will host for her daughter Catriona.
The next morning, she is busy at the kitchen table writing invitations when her brother-in-law Harry walks in through the back door, whistling. She dips her glasses and eyes him. ‘Ah. You’ve saved me a stamp,’ she says, pushing a card across the table. He makes his way to the range, picks up the kettle and gives it a shake before returning it to the hot plate. ‘Tea?’ He asks. ‘Please.’ She replies. Harry knows that Cora likes the ceremony of tea-making. She
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had told him once, years ago, while they sat in her shed down by the river. He places cups and saucers and matching milk jug on the table, and fills a plate with home-made plain scones. When the kettle boils, he heats the pot, spoons in loose tea, adds water and leaves to brew. Cora watches him discreetly. His hands, as big as hams, seem absurd tipping around the delicate silver and pink-trimmed china. ‘There’s a bowl of cream in the fridge.’ She tells him. ‘Jam?’ ‘The dresser.’ She licks creamy-jam, oozing from the sides of a sandwiched scone while Harry eats his with a fork. ‘Hungry?’ He asks. ‘This is the ultimate indulgence, Harry. No hunger necessary,’ she replies, pouring herself
www.messenger.ie another cup of tea. ‘How’re the preparations coming along?’ ‘Twenty invites written and another thirty to go. I’m tossing around the idea of bringing in caterers. What do you think?’ ‘I think that’s a great idea.’ ‘Really?’ She doesn’t expect that answer and she’s a little disappointed. ‘Why not?’ ‘Oh, I don’t know. Whenever I go to a house-party that’s catered I always think the hostess has…’ ‘Has what?’ ‘Cheated, taken the easy way out, hasn’t suffered for her guests!’ Harry looks at her with raised eyebrows, but she just laughs. ‘What?’ He dollops cream onto another scone. ‘That’s nonsense.’ ‘I know.’ ‘Things don’t always have to be hard to be worthwhile, Cora. Do you want to do the catering?’ She sighs. ‘I don’t actually know, Harry. This event isn’t about me – it’s about Catriona and I think I might want to stay out of the limelight for a change.’ She dabs a finger around her plate collecting crumbs. ‘Do you remember James’s Communion? I spent weeks thinking about it. But not what it meant to James or to us as a family – I was thinking about me and how I could shine. All everyone talked about in the end was that cake I made, not
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what an absolute star James was, with his little prayer book and the pride and joy on his face when he got his First Communion. I was so busy lapping up praise I hardly noticed the child outside the church. What does that say about me?’ ‘He had a great day.’ ‘Did he? I don’t know… I didn’t see him. But I did make a note of all the compliments I got on the various dishes, so I could compare notes for the next event. Oh, Harry.’ ‘Oh, Cora.’ Harry laughs, sympathetically. ‘I hide behind it Harry… when I get a chance to do something I know I’m good at, I grab that opportunity with both hands and I wring every last ounce of goodness out of it. So… the idea of letting go, just letting go…well, it’s an interesting concept.’ ‘It could be a complete eye-opener, Cora. Think of it as a new experience and at our age, there aren’t too many of those.’ He gets up and brings the ware to the dishwasher. ‘Anyway, this is only the engagement party. There’ll be a wedding and christenings and God knows what else to come.’ Cora rests her chin on her hands, watching him stack the cups and plates in a neat row. He turns, wiping his hands along corduroy pants. ‘Calum Webb has just started up from home. Give him a ring.’ ‘You’re absolutely right, Harry,’ she says. ‘A new experience. I’m going to call in the caterers!’
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NEW!
I DECEMBER 2015 Gospel Reflections for sundays of year C: LUKE Donal Neary SJ is editor of The Sacred Heart Messenger, and formerly Parish Priest at St Francis Xavier’s, Gardiner Street, Dublin, and chaplain at Mater Dei Institute of Education. Fr Neary has drawn on his long experience of pastoral work in Dublin to put together these reflections. They are designed to help people better understand the gospel reading, to perhaps reflect on the reading during the week before or after Mass. This book also provides a valuable aid to clergy in perparing their weekly homily, helping to ground it in the living human experience. To purchase go online to www.messenger.ie or phone Bríd on 01.7758522. 64 pages / €9.99
DATE FOR YOUR DIARY
OUR NEW EDITOR, DONAL NEARY SJ, WILL FEATURE ON RTE RADIO ONE’S DAILY 2-MINUTE MEDITATION A LIVING WORD AT 6.15am, FROM DECEMBER 14 TO 18. Repeated late at night at 12.58am.
In Loving Memory The names sent to us of all those who have died are entered on our
List of the Dead. They are placed on the Sacred Heart Altar in our oratory and remain there for two months. Every Wednesday a Mass is offered specially for them, that they may have eternal rest with the Lord, and that their families and friends may be consoled in their loss.
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Michael Paul Gallagher SJ
Pat ience wit h Empt iness
Thomas Halik says that athiests lack patience with God, with the pain of silence. You can try to pray and run into a tired void. You need self-patience with your own impotence. That can become a kind of naked faith, tough and toughening. The secret is to not run away. Sometimes, not always, a quiet miracle can happen. The desert makes you ready for life. The darkness can be nourishing – afterwards. You emerge into love, unconscious of its Artist.
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ISSN 1649-4450
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