Thursday, May 24, 2018

FOG ON THE HORIZON


Symbolic of where I'm going,

Fog on the horizon
Cloaking the hills
Draping the trees

The serene fields of England
Fresh in vibrant green
White Hawthorne blossoms

Crowning - fifth mystery

Queen of the May
Help of Christians
Gazing

Down

The dead-slow stress of morning traffic

Mine a high speed pilgrim train
No less tranquil than the gentle pace of barges on the canal

Below

I take a different route
Kick the ball in another direction
Sail against the current

For the glory of You the One True God and Jesus Christ whom You have sent

The saving of the soul
The unheard voice
Of the unseen child,
Hard pressed mother,
Troubled father

Leaders who act as if they were God and reach to touch the Tree of Life

At the risk of Paradise

The entertaining gods
At whose feet the masses lay down their approving ckoaks

Jesus said, "In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: "'You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving."
(Matthew 13:14)

Our soul salted with fire
Will pitch it's tent with the smallest, the most vulnerable and the lost
Perhaps to no avail in our time
Yet, please God, to our eternal credit

St. Cybi's Church Holyhead 

This journey began on the phone two nights ago. Maggie asked, are you coming home to vote. I have no vote I said. Check the register she said. I did and I have. I asked Evelyn to go up home and see if my voting card was there. It was.

Went straight online - Ryanair, edreams, Aer Lingus - others. All too expensive and I too late.

Thirty years ago this would have been the first and cheapest option. To my delight I found a ticket for train and boat and train all the way to Galway for £70 and got a return flight for €28. The other was going to cost £400.

Most importantly Fr. Tony came down Hastings to fill in. Otherwise it wouldn't have bee possible.

It's like a call from God. It came in a podcast I heard along the way:

"My love lifts up his voice, he says to me, 'Come then, my beloved, my lovely one, come.

For see, winter is past, the rains are over and gone.

'Flowers are appearing on the earth. The season of glad songs has come, the cooing of the turtledove is heard in our land.

Come then, my beloved, my lovely one, come...show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.' (Song of Songs 2)


I have felt burdened by this referendum, burdened at the prospect of what is about to happen in Ireland. And being in England I feel useless.

I understand the arguments and why people will vote differently to me but when I think of Nell McCaffertys description of what actually happens to the wee baby, I wonder why people don't care enough about that reality, the awful suffering of it that is contained in the laws that are to be introduced if repeal succeeds. In ministry we have also witnessed the suffering this has caused to mothers.

And I think of EQUALITY - those who fought, shouted and won it. Do they now fight and shout to win it for those who cannot shout?

Today as I pray and ponder I know I am not meant to bear all the buden of what others choose. I can only bear some and mostly I bear responsibility for myself as I stand before God. It doesn't satisfy me but strangely  I experience joy on this journey and peace. In His will there is peace.

I'm on the train to Galway now after the pleasure of spending a few hours on the sea where I feel so at one with myself, with life and with God and listening to Refiners Fire which is appropriate because my day began with fire in the readings at Mass.

Ah, the magic of coming home to Galway by train - the fields of Athenry that speak of my Mother's home, not to mention Ballyloughan and all of our innocent childhood summer's, Loughatalia and the thought of being met at the station!

God be with us all. My final prayer from Psalm 26, "Show me Lord Your Way so that I may walk in Your Truth. Guide my heart..." tonight, tomorrow and always. Amen!

Ballyloughan


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4 comments:

  1. Father Eamonn, thank you for coming home to vote! Someday, the little ones of our future will thank you for standing up for them...whatever the outcome.

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    1. Thanks Louise. Though the 8th is lost and this is a desperately sad day for the unborn it was worth the journey and effort. We trust in God. God bless you always

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  2. The fight is not over, even if we lose: we were always the underdogs, always aligned with the most vulnerable. Your words are so eloquent, and they have behind them the power of prayer - the power of gentle Jesus who was born in a stable and was crucified for the sins of others (like babies murdered because they are the children of abusers) and still rose. We will fight on, with words, with solidarity and with protests outside the Death Clinics if it comes to that. Thanks, Fr Eamonn for speaking up for those most fragile of human beings, broken babies made in God's likeness.

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    1. Thanks Geraldine. There is in me a feeling of not having done or said enough but we all tried our best and there is a blessing in being a minority, having taken the part of the little ones. God bless you.

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