Every part of the Mass echoes scripture from start to
finish. In the communion rite the Priest
says:
Lord Jesus Christ, who said to your Apostles: Peace I leave you, my peace I give you…
This comes from John
14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.
Silence is increasingly rare in the noisy, fast‑moving
spaces where we work, socialise, and even worship. Noise has its place when it
carries good conversation, shared purpose, or lively activity. But it becomes a
burden when we grow dependent on it—when every pause must be filled, every gap
bridged, every quiet moment avoided.
Our liturgies, too, have become crowded with words. Jesus cautioned against multiplying words in prayer, yet the way we engage in Holy Mass often leaves little room for stillness. We feel compelled to speak – aloud or inwardly – and we hurry to fill every space. In doing so, we risk losing the eloquence of silence.
It is often said that the Irish “do death well.” A time of bereavement is usually marked by deep family and community support, and it is taken for granted that friends, neighbours, and extended family will show their respect for the deceased by attending the funeral Mass. In many other cultures, funerals are more private occasions, attended only by invitation. Not so in Ireland.
