Notebook
Once upon a time, I was a media celebrity — for about a day. An article I wrote about weddings won me a spot on ‘Liveline’, then hosted by Marion Finucane: literally my 15 minutes of fame.
The article was based on an amalgam of wedding experiences from the parishes I had been in. In those days, weddings followed a set formula. As a privileged observer, I spotted some modest changes that would have made a great difference; these formed the basis of my Liveline conversation.
For instance, I was a witness to the torments endured by fathers-of-the-bride, whose speech at the wedding banquet was then considered mandatory. I saw men for whom this took them miles outside their comfort zone, ruining their wedding meal as they sweated anxiously about their after-dinner speech. My modest suggestion was that speeches might be completed beforehand, to get the ordeal out of the way and ensure an enjoyable meal for all. (If I knew then what I know now, I might have desisted: pre-dinner speeches have been adopted with a passion, while guests sit starving, waiting for the torture to end. But at least the boot is on the other foot now.)
I suggested that there could be variety in who ‘gave the bride away’, that couples might adapt more to the circumstances presenting themselves, that seating plans might be more imaginatively arranged.
Exception
My suggestions made some sense and went down well — with one exception: the parishioners at whose wedding meal I had most recently attended. For these, every word I wrote was a critique of their efforts, and they felt shamed and embarrassed. No matter how much I explained that my words were reflective of a variety of experiences, their discomfort could not be assuaged. I am not sure if they have forgiven me yet.
All this brings me to the nub of the problem: the difficulty of a priest writing from a parish base, basing his words on real experiences and yet holding back from sharing the really concrete examples that might identify those on whom these observations might be based.
You could say that a priest based in a parish should never write about pastoral incidents while still in the parish. You could suggest locating reflections in previous pastoral experiences. The problem is that life moves on; my experiences in previous parishes are often out of date. Only the parish where I am now fully reflects Ireland now.
Safely
You could also suggest that only a priest not currently in parish ministry could more safely write about pastoral life. Yet those who do that lack cogency; they are too visibly removed from the reality. For priests in parishes, these writers occupy the safety of ivory towers, without the real-life challenges of life on the coal face.
So, dear reader (especially dear parishioner!), please understand. I am not writing about you. If that seems untrue, you have the last laugh: simply write in and tell the Editor the other side of the story!
A patron for builders?
Typos are the bane of every writer. It amazes me how rarely they occur in the liturgical books. I have spotted one or two in the Divine Office and the Lectionary. Typos bring a certain schadenfreude (though I must admit I never spot any mistakes in what I write myself, only other people’s!). I got some rare joy in noticing a typo in the Liturgical Calendar for Ireland 2020. There on page 161 was a suggested Opening Prayer for the optional memoria of the fourth Pope, given the unfortunate name of ST CEMENT I. A new patron for builders, perhaps?
The gift of RTÉ Masses
One of the great gifts given to us in lockdown was RTÉ’s daily 10.30am Mass on RTÉ News Now. I regularly concelebrated from my own home, not being a fan of saying Mass alone. Over the months, we prayed with celebrants in Ardfinnan, Co Tipperary; Valentia, Co Kerry; Foxrock in Dublin 18; Armagh; and Letterkenny, Co Donegal. A suggestion: if any priest’s Mass particularly moved you, why not send him a Christmas card? His address details are easily ‘googled’. And spare a thought (and maybe a note) for the Head of Religious Broadcasting in RTÉ, Roger Childs, who was behind it all.
