Are we ready for the challenge? (Holy Thursday)

“…I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’” (John 13:34-35)

John 13:1-17, 31-35 (Year B: Maundy/Holy Thursday, 29^th March 2018)

Arnaud Beltrame is the name of a little known police officer in a little known village in the far south of France. Last week, however, he became famous. He offered himself in exchange for a person who was held hostage by a terrorist in a supermarket.  He entered the shop without his firearm.  He faced almost certain death. His brave action not only saved the life of one woman held hostage but, almost certainly the lives of many others.  As a trained Gendarme who had served in Iraq, he acted quickly and humanely knowing that the risk of dying was high to almost certain. By discretely leaving his mobile phone line open he was able to alert his comrades outside the supermarket.  He knew exactly what he was doing and what fate very likely awaited him. He did not hesitate. There was no time. He acted. He loved. He died.

One newspaper account reported the words of Arnaud’s mother:

“I’m not surprised. I knew it had to be him. He has always been like that. It’s someone, since he was born, who gives everything for his homeland.”
Asked if she was proud of him, she said he would have told her “’I’m doing my job Maman, that’s all.’”

At the worst of times and circumstances, the best of things can happen. Human nature is a mystery.  Moments of incredible bravery, generosity and goodness just seem to burst out from nowhere when something evil is afoot.  In 1941 the Polish priest, Maximilian Kolbe, gave his life for a fellow prisoner condemned to death by starvation. The saintly Maximilian Kolbe offered his arm calmly to the Nazi guards who gave him a lethal injection because two weeks of starvation and dehydration in a dark cell had not worked quickly enough for them.

On this very special day of Holy Week, we remember and unite ourselves with Jesus and his company in the upper room somewhere in Jerusalem. We call to mind his sacrifice and his teaching and actions that fateful evening.  ‘The longest night’ would be an apt description. It was Jesus’ final night before his death and his final night with his disciples until they would meet together after the Resurrection.

God knows us and loves us more than we can ever imagine or more than we can ever know or love ourselves.  It is love that calls us. If some human beings are capable of rising to the heights of generosity it is because our God is a God of infinite generosity. Jesus showed what generosity was, above all, on Good Friday.

Were we asked what is Christianity and who Christ is for us, the only answer we can give is ‘God is love: God is love in Jesus Christ for the whole world’.  But, it is not enough to say that with our lips. We must know it, we must feel it, we must live it, we must tell it aloud with our lives.

In a short while, we will receive the Body and Blood of our Saviour as real spiritual food in the sacramental signs of Bread and Wine. This can never be an act of mere individual piety or a collection of individuals like a line of cars waiting to be refuelled at the filling station. This is a gathering of disciples and the Host is none other than Jesus himself who invites us to a fellowship meal and to hear his Words again. We are standing, kneeling and sitting in his company as one body and not just as scattered individuals seeking the Lord as if we were strangers to each other and loners in search of God.

 ‘I give you a new commandment, that you love one another’ (verse 34)

But what is new about that commandment? After all, the commandment to love and love our neighbour is found in many places across the entire Bible and the lived experience of the Hebrew people (for example in Leviticus 19:18). We could easily miss the point of what is new here. No, it does not mean that all the other religious ‘rules’ are redundant (some were and are because it all depends on how they serve the Law of Love). Neither does it mean that the commandment is new because Jesus or John or his community of disciples said so to annoy the Jewish authorities at the time. Rather, it is new because it is RECIPROCAL. John’s gospel is full of notions of growth, communion and mutuality.  That A loves B is one thing. That A loves B and B loves A is something else. The totality of individual loving acts and dispositions is greater than the sum of each individual part. In plain language, loving one another gives rise to a communion of persons where Christ dwells and a whole new reality is possible because of this. Love is THE sacrament of church (a gathering together) and without it there is no real church.

The litmus test

And so the litmus test to prosecute Christians is more than just a test of their love individual by individual.  The killer punch that the prosecution can use to knock out any defence is that the reality of a community of love is so strong that we are faced with the real thing. No mistaking that! ‘ Writing a century after the gospel of John was written the North African theologian Tertullian wrote in The Apology (39:7):

See, they say, how they love one another, for themselves [pagans] are animated by mutual hatred; how they are ready even to die for one another, for they themselves will sooner put to death.

Is there enough evidence to incriminate us were we on trial as Christians? Would we be ready to give our lives for another – even a stranger as Arnaud Beltrame did last week?

Mar phobal seolta

“…Sheol mise sibhse uaim chun fómhar a bhaint nár shaothraigh sibh féin. Shaothraigh daoine eile é, agus chuaigh sibhse isteach ina saothar” (Eoin 4:38)

Eoin 4:31-38 (Year B: Lá le Pádraig, 17 Márta 2018)

Sán áit bheannaithe seo ina bhfuilimid bailithe le chéile chun an Chomaoin Naofa a chéiliúradh ar an lá speisialta seo, Lá le Pádraig, cuimhnímid ar Naomh Dúileach. Níl mórán eolas againn faoin bhfear naofa sin seachas the scéalta a tháinig anuas ó na sinsir. Is léir gur áit speisialta, naofa agus cáiliúil í seo inar chaith na mílte daoine laethanta fada ag guí, ag obair agus ag fónamh ar riachtanais an phobail thart timpeal.

Saint Doulagh’s church is described, in Irish, as Clochar Dúiligh.  Normally, the word ‘Clochar’ refers to a convent.  I wonder if the use of stone in this pre-norman church including the stone baptistery gave rise to the expression Clochar Dúiligh?. Be that as it may be, we are standing on holy ground. Yet, we stand in a fast-changing, multi-ethnic and post-modern Ireland where we are challenged to adapt our thinking but not our core faith – the faith of Paul the missionary, Patrick our national patron saint, Sampson and Doulagh our local saints and many others. That faith shared and expressed in the Creed which we will say together in a few moments is our rock – our Cloch or clochar.  It is, above all, our real, living and life-giving personal relationship with the Lord Jesus that must be the Cloch of our lives.

Just imagine all the countless generations who have worshipped, cried, laboured, rejoiced, died and who were born close to here? Just imagine the many languages that have been spoken here over the centuries from An Sean-Ghaeilge to some Viking dialect to Norman French to Anglo-Norman early English to modern day Northside Dublin not to mention the many ethnic and linguistic groups that have visited or even stayed here to join us for worship.

Fingal – the name of this part of Dublin – comes from ‘Fionn Gall’ or the tribes or territory of foreigners. Agus is maith rud gurb é sin ainm an cheantair seo. And it is very good that this is the name of this part of Dublin.

Sa lá atá inniu ann, táimid – mar a déarfeá ag na ‘croisbhóithre’ idir ceantar sách compordach and rachmasach ó thuadh ón áit seo agus ceann de na ceantracha is boichte sa tír seo ní I bhad ó dheas anseo. Níos faide siar ón séipéal seo tá aerphort rí-ghnóthach Bhleá Cliath trína imíonn na miliúin daoine gach bliain ar thurasóireacht nó fáthanna eile. San áit bheag, ciúin ina bhfuilimid an mhaidin seo táimid cóngarach do na naoimh a d’imigh romhainn. Níl Dúileach é féin ró I bhad mar

Óir, mar a mbíonn beirt nó triúr tagtha i gceann a chéile i m’ainmse, bím féin ansin ina measc.” Matha 18:20

San áit ina bhfuil beirt nó triúr tagtha le chéile ní I bhad uainn ríocht na bhflaiteas. Táimid ag gcéiliúradh I gcuideachta na n-aineal, na naomh eile agus an pobal a d’imigh romhain. 

“bíodh a fhios agaibh go bhfuil ríocht Dé in bhur lár.” Lúcas 19:21

Ag an am céanna táimid cóngarach do na mílte daoine atá ina gcónaí thart anseo. Is iad seo daoine le mianta, le buarthaí, le haislingí, le páistí, le seantuistí, le ceisteanna, le riachtanais spioradálta nó ábhartha. 

(thousands of people live in this district. These are people with worries, dreams, children, grandparents, questions along with spiritual and material needs).

Ó thosaidh an tseirbhís seo ceathrú uair a chloig ó shin is dócha gur imigh na céadta gluaisteáin thart ar an mbóthar amuigh. Tá daoine go imeacht dtí lár na cathrach chun an pharáid a fheiceáil. Tá daoine ag dul ar thuras fada, b’fhéidir, chun cuairt a thabhairt ar lucht muirneach éigin. Tá daoine eile, b’fhéidir, ag filleadh abhaile ó a bheith ag obair san óiche mar bhanatraí nó baill den fhoireann éigeandála.

Tá dhá mhíle bliain ar ár gcreideamh ach níl dhá mhíle bliain ar ár smaointeoireacht.

Our faith is two thousand years old but our thinking is not and must not be.

Is é sin le rá go roimmimid an creideamh céanna leis na deisceabail, le Naomh Aindriú, leis na mairtírigh fadó agus inniu, le Naomh Pádraig and Naomh Dúileach and Naomh Mearnóg  agus Naomh Sampson cibé daoine iad sin agus leis na naoimh sa lá atá inniu ann og obair, ag strachailt, ag fulaingt nó faoi ríméid ag déanamh toil Dé ó lá go lá díreach mar sa staid ina bhfuil siad agus sa timpealacht ina bhfuil said.

Óir is fíor don seanfhocal sa mhéid seo: ‘Cuireann duine, baineann duine eile.’ Deir Íosa linn arís inniu sa soiscéal dár chualamar:  ‘Sheol mise sibhse uaim chun fómhar a bhaint nár shaothraigh sibh féin. Shaothraigh daoine eile é, agus chuaigh sibhse isteach ina saothar.”

In English that translates as:

For here the saying holds true, “One sows and another reaps.” I sent you to reap that for which you did not labour. Others have laboured, and you have entered into their labour.’ (John 4:37-38)

And we stand here this morning as people who have reaped much benefit from the self-sacrificing faith and love of those who reaped here and who directly reaped in our own lives by their teaching and example. We have the joy of entering into the fruits of the labour others in this hallowed place between affluence and acute poverty, between the different historical Viking, Celtic and Norman linguistic and spiritual roots and in which early Celtic monasticism mixed with the arrival of a Norman and a very Roman ordered style of Christianity and then the tragic political and religious events in which Western Christianity and many kingdoms were sundered apart in Europe and on this island and in this very area. We also stand on the ‘Northern Fringe’ of Clongriffan and surrounding areas where thousands of new families and individuals will come to live in the coming years. These are exciting and challenging times for us who have been entrusted with the torch of faith and hope. Will we pass that torch to others? Will future generations follow in our footsteps when we are long gone?  Might St Douglaghs described as the ‘Jewel in Fingals’ Crown’ – Seoid Choróin Fhine Gall become a special place of healing, prayer and outreach where Christians of all traditions might offer hospitality and listening?  Does this sacred place have potentials that we cannot even imagine this morning?

Is mór an onóir dúinn seasamh anseo mar oilithreacha agus mar dheisceabail – i gcónaí ag cosa an Tiarna ag éisteacht agus ag ithe Briathar agus Arán na beatha I dteanta a chéile.

It is a great honour to stand here as pilgrims and disciples – always at the feet of the Lord listening to his word and taking to ourselves his Word and his Bread as we are gathered here.

Is pobal seolta sinn cinnte.

We are, surely, a people sent.

Mothers are special

“…and a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:35)

Luke 2:33-35 (Year B: Fourth Sunday of Lent, 11^th March 2018)

Have you remembered?  Flowers, card or even a meal out?  Or, as many do in Ireland, perhaps a flower and a chat in the cemetery with granny when nobody is overhearing one for the theologically unscrupulous?

 

Our hyper, commercialised and digitalised world will not let us forget it that this Sunday is ‘Mother’s Day’ at least in English-speaking North-West Europe. In some places and traditions, it is referred to as ‘Mothering Sunday’ and it falls on the fourth Sunday of Lent each year. While the origins around this particular day are a bit obscure, we know that it provides a type of half-way mark during our Lenten journey and it is linked to a special remembrance or appreciation of our mothers.

Mothers are held in high regard across the world and nobody can deny the very special and unique experience of a mother’s love at least for most of us who have been blessed and lucky enough to have had loving mothers. I realise that it is not always that perfect and even far from it in a minority of cases.

I remember my own mother with fondness and appreciation. Although deceased some years ago, I often remember her and recall with gratitude the many things she did and said over that part of her long life which spanned 97 years which I had the grace of knowing.  Indeed, it was sometimes the things that she did not say or do when she might have had good reason to that I remember with particular gratitude! Silence allied to a loving patience is a wise policy when better alternatives are lacking.

What is it that makes a mother’s love so special and central to our human experience? In the first place, we come forth from our mother in the womb. We are bonding with her as we are knitted together in that sanctuary as it says in Psalm 139:13. And then we are fed, clothed, cuddled, carried, talked to, listened to and loved as we move through the natural stages of growing up. She was there when we had our first day at school. She was there when we celebrated birthdays and special treats. She was there when we cried. She was there when we were bold and needed to be corrected. We learned to speak our ‘mother’s tongue’ in the first years of our life. And, for most of us, she was there when we left home to study or work or get married as the case may be.

The love of a mother is generous, unconditional and sustained. This is why, when we hear the words of scripture we associate a motherly love with that boundless love that God has for each one of us. Though we always address God as Father, there are many places in scripture where the love of God is spoken of in motherly terms. For example, the prophet, Isaiah, declares the Word of God in these terms:

Can a woman forget her nursing-child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb?  Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. (49:15).

As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. (66:13)

In both cases, God acts towards us as a mother would. Even then, if it were to be the case that mother and father were to forsake us, God would still be there for us as Father and as Mother as David declares in Psalm 27:10.

But, motherhood is far from being all joy and happiness. In today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke we hear a hard saying of prophecy spoken by Simeon:

This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.

Simeon saw and affirmed what others could not see in this child.  He saw beyond this moment of great joy to a time when all would be hardship and pain because a sword will pierce our souls.  And why? ‘the inner thoughts of many will be revealed’ and the truth will be told and that ‘sign that will be opposed’ will be the cause of grief. In our lives, there will be times of tribulation, sickness, possibly betrayal, conflict, doubt mixed with times of extraordinary consolation, uplifting, grace and renewal. Let nobody pretend that life is a bed or roses. Mothers know that only too well.

Sometimes people can say and do things to us that are deeply wounding. Or, we sometimes can do the same to others.  What is so wounding is the ‘thoughts revealed’ as Simeon says. We speak from what is within the heart and, unfortunately, what is there is not always to our own good or those who hear us. But, sometimes what has a wounding effect is, ultimately, for the good of the other or ourselves.

The ultimate wounding for Mary occurred in the desolation of Calvary.  There, she grieved for her son. Jesus, according to the Gospel of John, who gave his mother, Mary, to the disciple John, ‘Behold your mother’, he said to John. Many Christians see in this story an invitation for Christian disciples to experience the motherly love of God in the person of Mary who accompanies us in our earthly journey. She, too, grieves for us when we go astray as some of us do from time to time. In these moments, Mary reminds us that her son Jesus Christ, alone, is sufficient for us.

But, in addition to Jesus and Mary, there was someone else who heard what Simeon said. This was Joseph.  Fathers and fatherhood are often overlooked in modern culture.  I look forward to a liturgy focussed on fathers later this year! J

But, there is a question we might consider today and at this time in Ireland.

How do we regard and treat mothers? When it comes to rights in the workplace as well as rights to housing, healthcare, training and community support for families, are we as good as we say we are or should be?