JIM DEEDS

WITH EYES WIDE OPEN

JIM DEEDS

ALLOW YOUR BREATH TO BECOME A SIGN OF GOD'S CLOSENESS TO YOU.

My friend Fr Martin Magill and I have fallen into a habit when phoning one another. Whoever makes the call begins the conversation with five simple words, spoken slowly and with feeling: "Breathe in, and breathe out." The person on the other end of the line responds by taking a slow and intentional breath. We've found it's a great way to start a conversation. Moreover, it serves as a reminder for us both to slow down and breathe as easily as we can. It came about after our work on this year's 4 Corners Festival in Belfast in January and February. (You can find out all about the festival and see many of this year's events by going to www.4cornersfestival.com.) The theme of this year's festival was 'Breathe'. Using as our starting point, ruach, the Hebrew word for breath, we tried to discover how the breath of God was bringing love, joy and mercy to the four corners of Belfast, the city where we live, a wounded and wonderful city as many of you know.

In this Easter season, I am always drawn to a scripture story about the breath of God that could easily get missed as we concentrate on the day of Resurrection itself, with the excitement and drama of the empty tomb. In John 20:19-23, we read of an incredible experience the friends of Jesus had that evening. They have locked themselves in a room, well away from the authorities of whom they are terrified. After all, they didn't want to suffer the same fate that befell Jesus on Good Friday. Into their fear, worry, and uncertainty comes Jesus himself, even though we are told the doors are locked. He sees their stunned faces and wishes them peace. "Peace be with you," he tells them, before showing them the wounds of the cross that he bears on his body. They seem even more stunned now because we read that he tells them once more, "Peace be with you." How wonderful it is that he appeared to them amid their real-life experience.

These were frightened people, worried people. These were the people who had run away from Jesus and left him with only his mother, Mary Magdalene and John for company in his agony. In other words, these were imperfect people. Dare I say that these were flawed people, just like us. And yet, despite their flaws, fears and shortcomings, Jesus himself came and stood among them, wishing them peace.

This Easter season, we could reflect that even in the fear and worry of this pandemic and even in the face of our own shortcomings, Jesus comes to us offering his peace.

After he wishes them peace, Jesus tells them he is sending them out just as his Father sent him. He tells them – and by extension us – that they are part of his mission to build God’s kingdom. How can we be part of the mission that Jesus came for? How could we even begin to contemplate that we can do this? Well, the clue to how we do this is in the next line of the story. In John 20:22 we read that "he breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit.'" He breathed on them. How curious that is, if we take a step back. Think about your own life right now. Who breathes on you? Who do you breathe on? It seems to me that we can only breathe on those we are very close to. In these times of social distancing, the number of people we are close to has shrunk to only those with whom we are intimately connected – loved ones, family, close friends. And even then, it is only when we hold those people close that we would be able to breathe on them or feel their breath on us. Jesus, it seems, got very close to his friends that evening – close enough to breathe on them and, of course, his breath brought with it the Holy Spirit. This Easter season, we could reflect on the fact that Jesus is as close to us as he was to his friends that night. Jesus is, if you like, in our bubble! He holds us tight and allows us to hold on to him. Why not spend a few moments each day contemplating that feeling of holding and being held by Jesus? Focus on your breath as it enters and leaves your body. Allow your breath to become a sign of the closeness of God. Allow God's breath to fall on you. Allow the Holy Spirit to fall on you and fill you.

The Holy Spirit equips us to play our part in Jesus' mission in our own time and in our own way. But just as our breath leaves us and goes out into the ether, so too this notion that we could be called to play a part in God's great plan for the world could become a fleeting notion that leaves us as we sink back into feeling inadequate or powerless or even uninterested.

That is why the habit Fr Martin and I have fallen into is so useful. It stops us in our tracks and reminds us of the gift of life we have received and the small part we play in God's plan for the world.

So, this Easter season, I invite you to pause, take a breath, be thankful for it, and open yourself up to the work of the Holy Spirit. It could be the beginning of an exciting adventure.

Belfast man Jim Deeds is a poet, author, pastoral worker and retreat-giver working across Ireland.

Signs and symbols of HOLY WEEK

THERE ARE MANY CREATIVE AND ENGAGING WAYS WE CAN CELEBRATE THE MOST IMPORTANT WEEK OF THE CHURCH’S YEAR.

BY MARIA HALL

God speaks to man through the visible creation. The material cosmos is so presented to man's intelligence that he can read there, traces of its Creator. Light and darkness, wind and fire, water and earth, the tree and its fruit speak of God and symbolise both his greatness and his nearness.

CCC 1147

Signs and symbols are bearers of unseen realities. They are God revealing the mysteries to us, God's plan for salvation, in ways we can understand.

Symbols make something real; they make it active, present, encounterable. This is particularly true during the liturgies of Holy Week which are laden with symbolism. Our senses are attacked on all fronts during these beautiful liturgies. Here are a few of those we encounter.

PALMS

In the ancient world, palm branches were a sign of triumph and victory. Victorious athletes in ancient Greece were awarded a palm branch. Kings carried them after victory in battle. Palms were often depicted on coins, and King Solomon had them carved into the walls of his temple. In Egypt, palms represented immortality. In Judaism, they were used in festivals. The Book of Revelation speaks of people from every nation waving palms and praising God.

Early Christian martyrs were often depicted holding a palm, a sign of the spirit's victory over the flesh.

And so when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, it was natural for the people to hail him by spreading and waving leaves from the local palm trees. They recognised him as king, offering him honour and praise and accompanying him on his journey.

The church soon adopted this symbolic action. The famous pilgrim Egeria describes events in Jerusalem on the Sunday of The Great Week:

At five o'clock, the passage is read from the Gospel about the children who met the Lord with palm branches saying, 'Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.' At this, the bishop and all the people rise from their places and start on foot down from the Mount of Olives. All the people go before him with psalms and antiphons.

Everyone is carrying branches either palm or olive, and they accompany the bishop in the way the people did with the Lord.

In the seventh century, St Isidore refers to the 'Day of the Palms' and in eighth-century England we finally hear about Palm Sunday.

When we process with palms, we are doing so as the Mystical Body of Christ. The palms help us remember and understand, thus drawing us deeper into the Paschal Mystery and closer to Christ.

In the parish

The more we enter into the liturgy, the more we gain from it. We are not observers but have an active role to play. We take a palm, process, sing, listen and pray. There is an integral link between the palms of this year and the ashes of next, reminding us of the liturgical year's cyclical shape and the continuing life of the church. It's not a common practice, but it would be so meaningful to invite people to return their palms in time for making next year's ashes.

HOLY OILS

Oil is one of our primary liturgical symbols (used in four sacraments) and has its roots in the Old Testament. Olive trees grew abundantly in Galilee. Their oil served to soothe and comfort. It was used in cooking and as fuel in lamps. David and Solomon were anointed kings with it; Jacob anointed a pillar where God had appeared to him as the house of God. And in the week of his Passion, at Bethany, Mary anointed Jesus' feet with expensive, aromatic oil, a precursor to his body being anointed in the tomb (this is the Chrism Mass Gospel).

In the Early Church, St James writes, "Is any among you sick? Let them call upon the Presbyteroi (priests) of the church and let them pray over them anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord."

The bishop blesses the Oil of the Sick and

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, it was natural for the people to hail him by spreading and waving leaves from the local palm trees. They recognised him as king, offering him honour and praise and accompanying him on his journey.

the Oil of Catechumens (both pure olive oil) at the Chrism Mass – attend if you can, it's wonderful! The Oil of Chrism isn't just blessed but consecrated, and the bishop breathes on it to invoke the Holy Spirit. It is mixed with balsam, a sweet-smelling resin that symbolises receiving grace and being preserved from the world's evils.

Oil is the sign of God's goodness reaching out to touch us. In Baptism,

Confirmation, Holy Orders and finally in the Anointing of the Sick in which oil is offered to us, so to speak, as

God's medicine. They now assure us of his goodness, offering strength and consolation. Thus oil in its different forms accompanies us throughout our lives… right up to the moment when we prepare to meet our God. Pope Benedict

In the parish

After the Chrism Mass, each priest brings back Holy Oils for his parish. Many of us never see them or are even aware of them. Newer churches are often built with an ambry, a cabinet which houses the oils in public, emphasising their importance. This is something for all churches to consider.

THE CROSS

How precious the gift of the cross, how splendid to contemplate! In the cross, there is no mingling of good and evil, as in the tree of paradise: it is wholly beautiful to behold and good to taste.

The fruit of this tree is not death but life, not darkness but light. This tree does not cast us out of paradise but opens the way for our return. St Theodore the Studite

The cross is perhaps the most familiar Christian sign. But for the early church, it was a sign of torture and suffering. There are few early images of the cross (more of fish, Chi Rho, anchor and others) but it was certainly used. Second-century Syrian Christians hung a cross (not crucifix) on an east-facing wall and prayed in that direction. In the third century, Hippolytus described the Rite of Confirmation where the bishop anointed the candidate's forehead with a cross.

It wasn't until Constantine made public worship legal that the cross was used widely. Constantine's mother, St Helena, is credited with discovering the true cross in Jerusalem and it is from there that the tradition of venerating the cross began. Our friend Egeria describes the Good Friday liturgy in glorious detail:

The bishop's chair is placed on

Golgotha behind the Cross…the deacons stand round and there is brought to him a gold and silver box containing the Holy Wood of the

Cross.

The people go past one by one. They stoop down, touch the holy wood first with their forehead and then with their eyes and then kiss it.

This tradition wasn't established in Rome until the seventh century. In medieval England, creeping to the cross took place. People approached the cross slowly, barefoot and on their knees, a sign of reverence and humility.

Our current Good Friday liturgy has changed little since the Middle Ages. We venerate the cross with a bow or kiss, for the same reasons and with the same prayers, anthems and hymns as our early Christian forbears.

FIRE

Fire is closely allied to life. It is the aptest symbol we have for the soul within that makes us live. Like fire, life is warm and radiant, never still, eager for what is out of reach...what an image it is of that mysterious flame in us that has been set alight to penetrate the whole of nature and provide it with a hearth. Romano Guardini

The Easter Vigil fire begins the 'Mother of all Holy Vigils', which is sumptuously laden with symbolism. It is a celebration of the victory of light over dark, of new life in the light of the Resurrection of Jesus, the Light of the World, who has gained our redemption. This is the most important, powerful and unique liturgy of the year, and requires a mighty symbol to reflect its significance.

Symbolic fire is an ancient practice. Pagan festivals used fire to celebrate spring conquering winter. St Patrick was one of the first to use this symbolism. He lit an Easter fire, which angered local druids, but many were converted to Christianity after listening to him. In the ninth century, it was the custom in many places to extinguish all church and domestic lights in anticipation of the great feast. The symbolic lighting of lamps and candles developed into lighting a new fire using a stone or lens.

In the parish

Such an important symbol requires care and effort. The flames should 'dispel the darkness and light up the night'. Therefore, the liturgy should only begin after nightfall and with a 'blazing' fire. Of course, there are safety issues, but the symbol should have an impact. This is 'the greatest and noblest of all solemnities'. All candles should be lit from the Paschal Candle, the one 'light of Christ' (I've seen a well-meaning usher using his lighter to get the task done more quickly!)

All liturgical symbols need to be treated with respect. They 'signify and make actively present the salvation wrought by Christ and prefigure and anticipate the glory of heaven'.

Resources

https://bustedhalo.com/ministryresources/a-catholic-guide-to-holy-weeksymbols https://zoom.homeofthemother.org/ liturgical-year/lent/holy-week/signsand-symbols-of-holy-week (Great for children) Ceremonies of the Liturgical Year, Ignatius Press. (an invaluable practical guide for all parishes) Festa Pashcalia: A History of the Holy Week Liturgy in the Roman Liturgy, Philip J. Goddard Sacred Signs, Romano Guardini (Amazon)

Maria Hall is music director at St Wilfrid's Church, Preston, England. A qualified teacher, she has a Master’s from the Liturgy Centre, Maynooth and is a consultant on matters liturgical for schools and parishes. www.mariahall.org

REMEMBERING CANON SHEEHAN OF DONERAILE

THE LARGELY-FORGOTTEN WORKS OF CANON SHEEHAN PROVIDE AN INVALUABLE PORTRAIT OF AN IRELAND STRUGGLING TO DISCOVER ITS TRUE IDENTITY AS IT BEGAN TO LOOSEN THE SHACKLES OF COLONIAL DOMINATION AND ENVISAGE A FUTURE WHERE IT WOULD BE IN CONTROL OF BOTH ITS RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL DESTINY. BY EAMON MAHER

Ihave only recently begun reading the work of Canon Patrick Augustine Sheehan (1852-1913) and have been impressed by its quality and human interest value. In addition to containing some moving evocations of the beautiful landscape of west Cork, the work has also helped me rediscover a world where Catholicism still played a fundamental role in the life of rural Ireland, in particular, where priests were an inescapable and powerful presence. Some might view the church of Canon Sheehan’s time as being synonymous with a form of prescriptive authoritarianism, but, in fairness, the majority of its priests looked after the spiritual and material needs of their flock very well.

Canon Sheehan was a hugely popular writer during his lifetime and yet he does not feature in the main encyclopaedias of Catholic literature. Considering that the human situations he depicts are completely tied up in Catholicism and that he displays such an impressive mastery of literary devices, such an omission is unusual to say the least. In his Introduction to an essay collection, Revisiting Canon Sheehan of Doneraile (1852-1913), published in 2014, Gabriel Doherty singles out "the emphasis upon the individual, and the unique nature of personal experience" as constituting the essence of Sheehan’s literary and personal life. He further emphasises the global reach of his output, which is obvious from his huge popularity in the USA and the translation of his works into numerous languages.

Sheehan was recognised as a man of letters early in his career and this, allied to the supportive bishops in his home diocese of Cloyne, ensured that he was given time to devote to his writing. His appointment as parish priest of Doneraile in 1895 showed the faith placed in him by Bishop Robert Browne, who needed someone who could maintain cordial relations with the resident landlords, the St Legers. This was a function that Sheehan fulfilled with some aplomb, probably as a result of his great tact and culture.

TUMULTUOUS PERIOD

The late 19th and early 20th centuries, when Sheehan wrote the bulk of his work, was a tumultuous period in Ireland. The effects of the Famine continued to be felt, and most of the land was still controlled by the Anglo-Irish aristocracy. Priests regularly had to act as intermediaries

between the landlords and their tenants, a role that was rendered even more fraught as a result of increasing agrarian unrest and nationalistic fervour.

Sheehan provides some insightful sketches of clerical figures who struggle to find a fulfilling role as pastors in rural parishes, mainly because of the yawning cultural and intellectual divide between themselves and their parishioners. This is the experience of the eponymous and semiautobiographical hero Luke Delmege, who, like Sheehan, began his ministry in England and who discovers late in life that he has begun to feel "a strange, passionate attachment to my country and people". This epiphany only comes about after several painful episodes which reveal to the priest that his assumed ‘superiority’ was actually the opposite and that he could learn more from the ordinary people than he could ever teach them. We will return to this novel in due course.

In Sheehan’s writing, priests are treated as royalty by parishioners who are nevertheless also prepared to withdraw support if they find their ministers aloof or lacking in empathy. Sheehan confided to his biographer, the Jesuit Herman Joseph Heuser, that there was a dangerous gulf developing between priests and laity: “The priest moves through his people, amongst them, but not of them!” This is not the case with the parish priest Fr Dan (familiarly referred to as 'Daddy Dan') in one of Sheehan’s bestloved novels, My New Curate (1900), who confides to his curate: “You take away the poetry, which is an essential element in the Gaelic character, and you make the people prosaic and critical, which is the worst thing possible for them.” Fr Letheby, who tries to eradicate the primitive practices he encounters in the parish, is slow to appreciate this, but the arrogance and inexperience of youth finally give way to humility and a heartfelt desire to serve the people, which is at the core of priesthood in Sheehan’s view.

Letheby is sometimes overly zealous in his pursuit of improving the spiritual and economic fortunes of his flock. He sets up a community fishing business and a factory to keep the locals in gainful employment, which turns out to be a lamentable failure. The main problem is that the people are not used to working towards a common goal and fail to see the advantages of adopting a cooperative approach. Equally, he never succeeds in inspiring the same love and trust in his parishioners that Fr Dan enjoys. He does, however, gain the support of Bittra Campion, whose father, a former captain in the British army, is an influential member of the local community who has moved away from the teachings of the Catholic Church. Because of the example of his daughter and the work of the curate, the captain slowly displays signs that he is ready for a return to the fold, only to be killed in a freak sea accident just after his daughter’s wedding. After praying the Angelus with Fr Dan, he boards the ship and is not seen alive again by those remaining on the shore. Afterwards, the parish priest reflects:

“I did not know then that the musical strains of the mid-day Angelus were his death knell – the ringing up of his great stage-manager, Death, for his volté subito – his leap through the ring to eternity.”

Bittra ends up marrying Ormsby, a sceptic in religious terms, who converts to Catholicism after taking instruction from Fr Dan and witnessing the stoicism and resignation of a young girl called Alice, who is afflicted with a horrible skin disease that she feels is the result of her vanity. Ormsby admits to her: “Mind, little one, if I become a Catholic, it’s you have made me one.” The apparent stigmata that Alice endures without a word of complaint, her ability to survive on bread and wine – the symbolism of her diet is intentional – are concrete signs to Ormsby and others that she is the beneficiary of grace. Father Dan remarks to Ormsby: “Faith is not a matter to be acquired by reading as knowledge. It is a gift, like the natural talent of a great painter or musician – a sixth sense, and the pure gratuity of the All-Wise and the All-Good.”

DAILY ROUTINES

The semi-autobiographical Luke Delmege (1901) shows once more how intelligence and academic achievement must be tempered when ministering to people whose deep spiritual needs often require an approach that is in keeping with their daily routines. Fresh out of Maynooth, where he was awarded the ‘First of First', the highest academic award, Luke Delmege befriends a number of the Anglican clergy and parishioners during his period in England. He is initially in thrall to their sophisticated manners and the calm, independent way they express their opinions. After a while, what he sought above all else was "men’s praises". A friend, Fr Sheldon, remarks to him on one occasion:

“Did you ever feel an impulse to go down on your knees and kiss the hem of the garment of some poor, half-witted illiterate old duffer, who knew just enough of Latin to spell through his breviary, but who was doing, with sublime unconsciousness, the work of his Master?”

Delmege painfully uncovers the real secret of happiness, which is not found in intellectual attainment, but in the unique bond a priest develops with his community. Through the spiritual witness of others, especially that of Barbara, who joins a convent to atone for what she considers her brother’s licentious life, this once proud man finds the solution to life’s enigma: "Lose all to find all.’" It might appear to be a simple formulation, but it is one of the most difficult challenges posed by Christianity. It is only by putting others ahead of self, being humble and open to the intervention of grace, eradicating all preoccupations with worldly achievement, that one can truly follow in the footsteps of Christ.

REPUTATION

Canon Sheehan published ten novels, a number of short stories, and several religious and philosophical tracts. He developed a strong international reputation and achieved sales that would have been the envy of any writer of his era. Yet he is very rarely spoken of today. This may be because he was seen as a ‘popular’ writer rather than as a literary figure. In an article published in Studies in 2009, historian Tom Garvin acknowledged Sheehan’s role as the writer of "tales of Irish Catholic and rural life of a kind that appealed to the popular taste of a newly educated Irish public" and pointed out that his appeal also extended to the Irish diaspora in Britain and America. For me, he provides an invaluable portrait of an Ireland that was struggling to discover its true identity as it began to loosen the shackles of colonial domination and envisage a future where it would be in control of its own destiny, both religious and political. His fictional priests may be remnants of what seems like a distant past, yet they made a telling and largely positive contribution to the crucial fin de siècle period of Irish history that Sheehan captures so memorably in his work.

Eamon Maher is director of the National Centre for Franco-Irish Studies in TU Dublin. He is a regular contributor to Reality.

A PANDEMIC OF DARK CLOUDS

THERE ARE A NUMBER OF FACTORS PULLING AT THE SOCIAL FABRIC OF HUMANITY CREATING “CLOUDS” AND “SHATTERED DREAMS” OF UNIVERSAL SOLIDARITY, WRITES POPE FRANCIS, IN THE ENCYCLICAL’S OPENING CHAPTER

BY MIKE DALEY

Apope usually delivers an Urbi et Orbi ('To the City and to the World') blessing after his election and/or on the yearly feasts of Christmas and Easter. These are joyous occasions. St Peter’s Square is full of cheering pilgrims. What a difference a pandemic makes.

This past March 2020, in pouring rain, Pope Francis approached the steps of St Peter’s Basilica. A lone, solitary figure. No cheers, only silence. No sunlight, only the evening’s darkness. There, prominent in the background, was the miraculous crucifix of San Marcello. Having survived a fire in 1519, it is venerated by the people of Rome. It was also processed through the city in 1522 to invoke God’s mercy during a plague.

On a raised platform, Pope Francis offered an extraordinary blessing praying for an end to the global COVID-19 pandemic. Central to Pope Francis’ prayer was a meditation based on a story from Mark’s Gospel: The Calming of a Storm at Sea (Mk 4:35-41). In the midst of a violent squall, with waves crashing over the boat, while Jesus is asleep, the disciples cry out: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Awakened by their cries, Jesus rebukes the wind and calms the sea. Afterwards he asks them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

Paralleling the disciples’ situation then to our own situation now, Pope Francis remarked: “For weeks now it has been evening. Thick darkness has gathered over our squares, our streets and our cities; it has taken over our lives, filling everything with a deafening silence and a distressing void, that stops everything as it passes by; we feel it in the air, we notice it in people’s gestures, their glances give them away. We find ourselves afraid and lost.”

Pope Francis then voiced the words of Jesus: “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” In the face of this overwhelming fear, Francis, like Jesus, offered words of encouragement and a way forward: “In this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about our image, has fallen away, uncovering once more that (blessed) common belonging, of which we cannot be deprived: our belonging as brothers and sisters.”

“AM I MY BROTHER’S KEEPER?”

It is one of the questions of scripture. The splendour of the Garden of Eden, with its image of union between God, humans, and creation, quickly gives way to the tension of relationship between brothers. Anger and rivalry culminate in the death of one of them. When asked by God where his brother Abel is, Cain, in an attempt to evade responsibility, dismissively responds, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

Like the iconic story of Cain and Abel, Pope Francis’ encyclical on fraternity and social friendship, Fratelli Tutti, is another reminder that, yes, we are our brother’s and sister’s keeper. Unfortunately, as Francis makes clear in Chapter 1, 'Dark Clouds Over A Closed World', there are a number of factors pulling at the social fabric of humanity creating “clouds” and “shattered dreams” of universal solidarity.

Admittedly, the COVID-19 pandemic has brought forth its own fears and anxieties. Pope Francis admits, however, there were deep-seated social, political, and economic “viruses” besetting humanity long before this one: the world grows closer together, but further apart at the same time; wealth increases dramatically, but so too does a “throwaway” world; human rights are voiced for

all, but granted only to some; and, finally, there is greater access to communication and information, but there is no parallel moral formation and wisdom to go along with them.

READING THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES

Like any good doctor, Pope Francis knows a description of the condition must precede the prescription. What may be seen by some as too uncomfortable, negative, and pessimistic to talk about is for Francis the truth which must be admitted and faced.

Rather than having learned from history, Pope Francis laments “a concept of popular and national unity influenced by various ideologies is creating new forms of selfishness and a loss of the social sense under the guise of defending national interests” (#11). Ironically, globalism has made us neighbours, but not brothers and sisters.

In the face of a loss of historical consciousness and cultural colonisation, Francis encourages us to restore the meaning of words like democracy, freedom, justice, and unity. Otherwise, we will continue to realise that “We are more alone than ever in an increasingly massified world that promotes individual interests and weakens the communitarian dimension of life” (#12).

Building on his previous environmental encyclical Laudato Si, Pope Francis observes that not only have we grown indifferent to the cries of the planet, but we also have become unresponsive to the fundamental dignity of the human person. Seeing ourselves more as consumers than persons, we have left the unborn, elderly, poor and disabled, and migrants, to fend for themselves. In a “throwaway” world, people who are not productive become disposable as well. Here, Francis states that we must change “a profit-based economic model that does not hesitate to exploit, discard, and even kill human beings. While one part of humanity lives in opulence, another part sees its own dignity denied, scorned or trampled upon, and its fundamental rights discarded or violated” (#22). Sadly, economic development has not been matched by human development.

In perhaps what is a first for a papal encyclical, Pope Francis calls our attention to the negative effects of digital communication. Privacy scarcely exists anymore. Addiction, isolation, and distortion of reality are all too real possibilities and actualities via social media. Speaking at the Vatican on the release of Fratelli Tutti, Anna Rowland, associate professor of Catholic Social Thought & Practice at Durham University, said that “Digital communications trade on our hunger for connection but distort it, producing what the pope calls a febrile bondedness built on binaries of likes and dislikes and commodified by powerful interests.”

What Pope Francis wants is authentic encounters with and between persons. We often settle for far less. Here he calls to account Catholic media where “limits can be overstepped, defamation and slander can become commonplace, and all ethical standards and respect for the common good of others can be abandoned” (#46). In the process, the social friendship so desired by Francis is compromised and, with it, the Gospel message itself.

A HORIZON OF HOPE

If Pope Francis were to end here, his observations would leave us in a state of despair and alienation. But Francis is a pope of hope. He believes that the path we appear to be headed toward need not be the future. The dark clouds and shattered dreams can give way to a new horizon if a costly hope is practised.

With this in mind, Pope Francis ends Chapter 1 with these words of possibility and opportunity: “Hope speaks to us of a thirst, an aspiration, a longing for a life of fulfilment, a desire to achieve great things, things that fill our heart and lift our spirit to lofty realities like truth, goodness and beauty, justice and love… Hope is bold; it can look beyond personal convenience, the petty securities and compensations which limit our horizon, and it can open us up to grand ideals that make life more beautiful and worthwhile.”

Hope leads to fraternity and social friendship.

Mike Daley is a teacher and writer from Cincinnati, Ohio, where he lives with his wife June and their three children. His latest book, co-authored with scripture scholar, Sr Diane Bergant, is Take and Read: Christian Writers Reflect on Life’s Most Influential Books (Apocryphile Press).

MAID IN EMMAUS

'KITCHEN MAID WITH THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS' IS THE FIRST KNOWN PAINTING OF 17TH-CENTURY SPANISH ARTIST, DIEGO VELAZQUEZ. IT'S TEMPTING TO IMAGINE WHAT A MAID IN EMMAUS MIGHT HAVE OVERHEARD AS SHE TENDED TO THREE WEARY TRAVELLERS ON THAT FIRST EASTER WEEK.

BY STEPHANIE WALSH

Immediately I was drawn to her as I stood wondering which gallery I should explore. Entranced, I stood staring at the painting of a girl in a white turban. The gallery attendant, bored on a quiet afternoon, asked if I knew the story of this Velazquez painting. "No, please tell me." "This is one of the paintings stolen from Russborough House by Rose Dugdale and her accomplices in the 70s. It's part of the Beit Collection that's kept here now in the National Gallery in Dublin."

Yes, I remembered it then and all the fuss about the English heiress-turned-IRA activist. Rose Dugdale had led the raid on Sir Alfred and Lady Beit's collection, succeeding in stealing 19 paintings, including Velazquez's 'Kitchen Maid with the Supper at Emmaus'.

However, the story I really wanted to know was that contained within the picture itself. The Moorish servant girl leans over a kitchen table, where she has been working cleaning pots. Sunlight floods in from above, highlighting her white turban and cuffs, the ceramic water jug and plates, the copper pan. Her shoulders are hunched forward with tiredness and resignation to this daily drudgery. Yet her head is slightly tilted as she seems to listen, with raised eyebrows, to the intense conversation of two men in the background, glimpsed through a serving hatch.

I go downstairs to the Friends' Desk, where a willing docent explores the background to this masterpiece.

FIRST KNOWN PAINTING

'Kitchen Maid with the Supper at Emmaus' is Velazquez's first known painting; he was only 17 when he painted it. He had just been accepted into the Painters' Guild of St Luke in Seville – which is equivalent to union membership now. The young Spaniard experimented with painting kitchen and tavern scenes, slices of everyday life, as well as working on religious themes. In this startlingly beautiful picture, he manages to combine both elements.

Later, he painted a full-size picture of 'The Supper at Emmaus', which shows Christ in animated conversation with two men at a table. Velasquez sold many of his works to the clerical market in Seville where he lived. Up to 10 per cent of the population there was Moorish; it had been the main port for traders coming from Africa to the New World where, sadly, the cargo was slaves. Diego Velazquez's father was a slave owner, so a model for this painting was readily available.

At the time, 'Saving African Souls' became a hot

topic in ecclesiastical circles with the archbishop advocating catechising and baptising slaves. An early example of Black Lives Matter? This might be an overly optimistic view. In all likelihood, the impetus for these baptisms sprang from the concept that life in the next world is more important than one's actual earthly life, as a slave.

This 'picture within a picture' was a standard enough device in 16th- and 17th-century art. Here it is of the risen Christ at a meal in Emmaus. It depicts two disciples at table with him, having walked from Jerusalem.

EXTRAORDINARY TALE

At the point in their journey when Jesus, whom they failed to recognise, fell into step with the two disheartened men, they were discussing the recent death and resurrection of a man from Nazareth. He asked what they were discussing. Excited at meeting someone who had not heard the latest news, the disciples regaled him with the account of the most amazing event ever: they told him about their friend, Jesus, who was a prophet. They explained that he was also a great teacher and had performed incredible miracles but that the authorities had conspired against him and he had been crucified, had died on the cross and been buried in a tomb.

Touchingly, they added that they had hoped that this same Jesus might be the promised Messiah who was to save the people of Israel. Their tale did not end on that pensive note. For, three days later, some women followers of Jesus had gone to that tomb but found it empty. Furthermore, these women said they had met angels who told them that this same Jesus was alive. All of Jerusalem was buzzing with the news of these events, they said.

Perhaps they took more than two hours to walk the seven miles to Emmaus, as they discussed what had happened and what it signified.

When they reached the village, they asked the stranger to have supper with them as they wished to continue the conversation. They coaxed him by remarking that it was nearly evening, they were tired and hungry. Because they asked, he stayed for a meal with them.

It was only in the breaking of the bread that it dawned on them that the stranger was, in fact, Jesus of Nazareth. As soon as they recognised him, he vanished, and they were left discussing this extraordinary encounter.

DID SHE OVERHEAR?

Perhaps this is the part of their conversation that the servant girl overheard?

Were her ears opened to the message of freedom and hope? As she pondered the Good News, was she too transformed? Did her heart also burn within her as they spoke to the Risen Lord?

This picture hung for many years in a convent refectory before it was cleaned in 1933, when the 'picture within a picture' was rediscovered. I imagine the generations of sisters who must have identified with this servant girl, working unnoticed in the background. Another famous Spaniard, St Teresa of Avila, reassured her own community of sisters that "the Lord walks even among the kitchen pots".

In the year of the COVID-19 attack, we have spent long hours in the house, in the kitchen, in the garden. Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, many of us were happy doing such humdrum work, discovering satisfaction in the completion of tasks.

Diego Velazquez's beautiful painting makes me wonder if there's more than one type of women's liberation. How many of us can glimpse 'the miraculous amidst the humdrum’?

TWO ENCOUNTERS WITH DARKNESS

EXPERIENCE HAS TAUGHT ME THAT IT’S EXCEPTIONALLY NAÏVE TO IMAGINE THERE ARE NO FORCES OF DARKNESS AFFECTING BOTH INDIVIDUAL LIVES AND SOCIETY AT LARGE.

BY COLM MEANEY CSsR

"Let us put on the armour of light." Rom 13:12 The gospels recount many times when Jesus expelled demons from people who were "possessed". Nowadays, we might think of these as examples of various ailments, epilepsy, etc., but the generic term in the gospel times was "possession", and what was needed was an exorcism. It is instructive to note some details: (1) the "demon" is always to the detriment of the person; it is not a source of good, but of misery; (2) the person so assailed is never blamed. Instead, that person is looked upon as a victim, someone to be set free; (3) Jesus has an uncompromising attitude to demons: no discussion, just "leave the person!"He has an unapologetic antagonism towards any semblance of the powers of darkness. And, of course, Jesus sent out his followers specifically with the power to cast out demons (Mk 6:7; "he began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits"). We moderns may regard all this talk of demons to be so much mumbojumbo, but it would be exceptionally naïve to imagine that there are no forces of darkness affecting both individual lives and wider society, however you may wish to call them.

I've had my own experiences of battling against the powers of darkness (admittedly not as stark or exciting as the gospel accounts). I offer two such accounts, one in which I was the loser, the other in which I was witness to a minor success.

I was relaxing in the monastery, having returned from some weeks in the hills. It was 8pm, the secretary had gone home, and I was enjoying a cool beer, watching TV. The doorbell rang. I answered it to find a wealthy, glamorous lady dressed to kill. She said she lived nearby and that one of her maids had been possessed by an evil spirit, and would I come with her to perform an exorcism. I said to myself "zero training in exorcisms in the seminary", but I put on a brave face and said that I'd change into something more formal and be with her shortly to perform the necessary anti-diabolical rites.

We travelled in her car, something very expensive. The chauffeur was in the front, Madame and I in the back, she with Chanel No 5 and diamonds to boot. Frank Sinatra was crooning out his hits on the CD player. The air conditioner was at full strength, so we were all nicely cooled. At last, we arrived at the mansion. I made to climb the steps to enter through the front door, but she said that the maids lived below ground.

I went down and entered into a stuffy, windowless bunker with three or four beds. It was a disturbing scene: three or four of her fellow-maids, male and female, were gathered around the 'victim', praying and offering various invocations for her wellbeing. At least three rosary beads were placed on her neck. If the poor girl was in any danger, it was from Marian strangulation! (Actually, this was quite a calm scene, and the protagonists were acting quite reasonably if a little excitedly. My colleague Sean Purcell told me of his witnessing a most distressing scene, harrowing in fact, when a teenage girl, clearly having an attack of some sort, was being pinned down by four or five grown men – all of whom were convinced that the unfortunate lass was in the possession of truly satanic powers.)

I gently but firmly asked those present to vacate the area, which they did, and then I sat beside the 'possessed' girl on the edge of a bed. She was about 15 or 16, but she had the strength of a boxer. She was clearly

in some distress, and it was manifest in her altered state. When I put my arm around her shoulders to calm her, she initially resisted and emitted some quite scary moans, still in a stressed state. I was a little unnerved, but after a few seconds, she relaxed, and then we had our conversation, and thus I diagnosed the cause of her distress.

I asked her where she was from, and she replied that she was from a remote mountain area (with which I was familiar). She had been in Madame's employ for many months but had not returned to her home village. So naturally, she was lonely for her parents and family and for her usual surroundings and habits. She had a heavy workload in the house, and the food allotted to them was insufficient. Furthermore, her salary was dismal. So, she was lonely, over-worked, under-nourished and underpaid. No wonder she had temporarily lost her way and had slipped over the edge. If there was any 'demon' involved in her misery, it was in the person of her glamorous employer!

I left the girl in a calm state, but I wonder how long it lasted. Because on the trip back to the monastery, once again in the air-conditioned car, I told Madame of my encounter and suggested that, far from suffering any demonic attack, the girl's trauma had much more human and mundane causes, and that her circumstances should change. I recommended that she visit her parents, that her salary might be augmented, etc. She thanked me for performing the 'exorcism', smiled patronisingly, and said we should pray that the demon would not return. I had lost that particular tussle with the forces of darkness.

The second example found me in a night club – to be more exact, a 'strip club'. The girls were on the stage and, as the music proceeded, they removed the last vestiges of their skimpy attire. Yes, I'm sure regular readers of Reality will think it somewhat unbecoming of a Redemptorist to be caught in such compromising circumstances, so let me immediately redeem my reputation! I had been invited to visit the club by two girls, both of whom were former prostitutes. They said it would be good for me to see the girls in the club and speak with them, which was the background to my visit. After their individual stage display, a few of the girls put on a kimono and joined us at our table for a few minutes. My overall impression was that they were all from the province (far from the city) and that their parents thought they were studying at university, but many weren't.

They gravitated to the various clubs because the money is good, especially if a customer takes the girl to a hotel. But it's a kind-of deadend livelihood. So I chatted with my two interlocutors. Our chat was enlightening for me.

I asked what the purpose of their group was. They said that primarily it was to entice girls away from the dead-end life of a prostitute. I asked what their strategies were. Their replies were interesting. First, they sought simply to convince girls of the futility of their way of life. To provide some alternative, they started some livelihood projects: typing, manicure/ pedicure, knitting, etc (very practical for the girls, I told myself, because their bodies will not always be appreciated in their current way of life).

I asked if they had much success, and, quite candidly, they admitted they had not. The money a girl could make on a night out of the club (taken out by the client) was too tempting to pass up. Still, they had some successes. They had also given the girls the number of a trustworthy lawyer so that, whenever the club was raided by the police, they could call upon his help. The scenario would unfold as follows: the customers would be given a tip-off and would high-tail it, and the girls would be arrested. Then they would call or text the lawyer, and he would set about getting them free.

I much admire the two women who had invited me to meet the dancers. High-end prostitution may seem glamorous, but for most of these young women, once the attraction of their bodies began to lose its allure for their customers, they would be discarded forthwith. The two founders of the group were not marching in the streets with placards. They had no rallying cry for justice, but in their own quiet way, with no fanfare but only dogged determination, they were standing up to the powers of darkness, represented by the murky world of prostitution.

Earlier I had lost my battle in trying to help the distressed maid. Now I was witnessing a small victory by these two latter-day prophets.

A native of Limerick city where he went to school in St Clement’s College, Fr Colm Meaney first went to the Philippines as a student and has spent most of his priestly life there.

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FAMILY & RELATIONSHIPS

CARMEL WYNNE

PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR INTERNAL DIALOGUE

SPOUSES WHO MAKE EACH OTHER RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR HAPPINESS ARE DESTINED TO END UP FEELING UNHAPPY.

People who genuinely love each other often don't communicate well because of their guilt about things they are unwilling to discuss and issues they believe their partner can't handle. They withhold information because they are afraid of making the other angry. They're worried that their feelings will be disrespected, rejected or dismissed.

It is amazing that so many people have fantasy ideas about what it means to be in a loving relationship. Some couples get married with the unrealistic expectation that they will live happily together and that, if the relationship doesn't work out, they will get divorced.

I don't intend to be cynical when I suggest that every couple I've ever met who are in a happy marriage now admit they went through difficult patches, and that growing through them helped them stay married. There are numerous books on how to have the perfect relationship, how to keep romance in a marriage, how to rekindle the early passion after you have children, and so on.

Most readers of these books are women who are dissatisfied and want something more. A happy marriage is a wonderful aspiration. In the past couple of years, I have asked approximately ten couples a question that all agreed was difficult to answer: "What are your criteria for a happy marriage?"

Happiness is ephemeral. Some experts say that we only know happiness in retrospect when we look back and remember the emotional state we experienced but didn't fully appreciate at the time. Do you have your own criteria for measuring how happy you are, or is this something you have never thought about before?

A marriage's honeymoon is a time when couples expect they will be blissfully happy. Brides returning from their honeymoon are usually only too delighted to tell anyone who will listen how happy their husband makes them.

I feel uncomfortable when I hear anyone say that a friend or partner makes them happy. The person who believes this is true has ceded control over how they feel. Someone who can make you happy and excited also has the power to make you sad and angry.

It may seem like semantics, but words are incredibly powerful. Spouses who make each other responsible for their happiness are on a collision course for blame, complaints and grievances. An event occurs that causes a row, and the hurt party feels victimised. Where there's a victim, you always find a villain, the person you blame for hurting your feelings and upsetting you.

Let's say that Aoife and Archie are on the verge of breaking up. They are in serious financial difficulties when they come for relationship coaching. Their goal is to be happy and have a more emotionally healthy relationship. They are invited to answer powerful coaching questions, such as, "What are you feeling?" and "What do you say to yourself that makes you feel that way?"

Each answers as best they can. Aoife feels hurt at how insensitive Archie can be about her worries. Her internal dialogue goes something like: "He lies; he's often sarcastic and argumentative. We're in serious debt. We need to talk. If he loved me, he wouldn't act this way. He has no right to have me worry. I deserve better. He has to take responsibility and not walk away when I want us to sort this out."

Aoife's demand to talk makes Archie feel threatened and defensive. He feels he's between a rock and a hard place. His internal dialogue goes something like: "I hate when she's right. I love her. I know she deserves better. I feel guilty about getting us in so much debt. It's not my fault that I overspent before losing my job. Can't she see how humiliated and ashamed I feel? I'm worried sick, and all she does is nag, nag, nag."

Each wants the rows to end. Each wants the other to see their pain and stop doing things that are hurtful and annoying. Aoife wants an apology when Archie hurts her feelings. He wants her to stop nagging and stop going on and on about paying debts when they don't have money.

Having listened carefully, the coach suggests they look at their relationship from a different perspective. She invites them to take a few minutes to reflect on the question: "What if your own expectations and internal dialogue trigger your feelings? Try changing 'You should' to 'Please could you?' and see how you feel."

Changing the style of their communication is an excellent first step towards healing their relationship. The secret to a happy life is to accept that you are responsible for your own happiness.

Carmel Wynne is a life and work skills coach and lives in Dublin. For more information, visit www.carmelwynne.org

THE ROAD TO BRAZIL

Fr Tony Branagan's Extraordinary Life as a Missionary - Part 1

IN DECEMBER 2019, AT THE AGE OF 85, FR TONY BRANAGAN CSsR RETURNED HOME TO IRELAND AFTER MORE THAN 55 YEARS AS A FOREIGN MISSIONARY IN BRAZIL AND SIBERIA. FROM HIS CURRENT HOME IN CLONARD MONASTERY, BELFAST, HE REFLECTS ON HIS EARLY LIFE, HIS CALL TO JOIN THE REDEMPTORISTS, AND THE 32 YEARS HE SPENT IN BRAZIL.

BY TRÍONA DOHERTY

Anthony (Tony) Branagan was born in Rathkeale in County Limerick in 1934. His father Michael was married twice; his first wife passed away in 1922, and he was remarried in 1926 to Josephine ní Shaughnessy. Michael and Josephine went on to have nine children, including Tony, who was the fourth youngest. Tony also had four older siblings from his father's first marriage who lived with an aunt in Dublin and would visit during the holidays.

When Tony was two years old, his family moved to Dublin, where they lived on Aughrim Street in Stoneybatter in the north of the city. He attended the parish primary school, right behind their house, before going on to secondary school with the Christian Brothers in North Brunswick Street, where he completed his Inter Cert.

The call to religious life was evident from an early age. "From the earliest I can remember, I wanted to be a priest, and my family has told me it started when I was very young," says Fr Tony. "There was one time when I was 15 or 16 when I thought maybe I didn't have a vocation. I mentioned it to my mother, and she told me to pray about it, so I went to the sanctuary of Our Lady in Cabra and prayed about it. From that day, I never had any more doubts."

Tony was attracted to the Redemptorists after attending a retreat with Fr Leo Halloran CSsR: "I told him I'd like to be a priest, and he brought me to Marianella [former Redemptorist house in Dublin] where I met other lads who were thinking of becoming priests. He met my family, and they arranged for me to go to the Redemptorist Minor Seminary in Limerick for my last two years of school."

It was his first time away from home, and Tony found the juvenate very different to the Christian Brothers: "My favourite subjects in school had been Maths and Science, but in the juvenate they weren't regarded as principal subjects," he recalls. But he settled in and was joined by a childhood friend, Phil Dunlea. "Phil was from Rathkeale, and I knew him from holidays in Ballybunion. I arrived in the juvenate and there he was, and we were together until after ordination."

Tony went on to progress through the novitiate,

A wedding photo of Tony's parents Josephine and Michael, 1926, Dublin

after which a group of six went to university in Galway. "I studied for a degree in sociology, politics and philosophy. I found my studies quite difficult," he recalls. "My family weren't very academic, and no one else had gone to university. Those of us from the novitiate who had gone to university were then a year behind the lads we had been professed with, so we did an extra year of philosophy and theology in Cluain Mhuire [Redemptorist seminary in Galway]. There was a big number of us, up to 100 students. I liked the seminary and made good friends there."

As Tony neared the end of his formation in the early 1960s, the Redemptorist mission to Brazil was just beginning, and he recalls the provincial visiting the seminary to gauge interest in this new mission: "As Redemptorists, we always had that sense that we might be going on the foreign missions. We met many priests who were coming back from India or the Philippines, and they gave talks to us, but I didn't have a preference."

Fr Tony was ordained in January 1962, along with 17 others. His parents, two brothers and a sister attended. After ordination, he spent a week in the family home in Dublin, where he had the opportunity to say Mass in his local parish in the Church of the Holy Family; he describes this as "a very happy time". Upon finishing his studies, he spent a 'pastoral year' in Limerick preparing for ministry, during which he began to hear confessions and to preach at Mass and parish missions.

FIRST STEP

The year 1963 marked the first step in Fr Tony's missionary life, when he was appointed to Brazil along with friends Dan Bray from Tipperary and Bill Donnelly from Belfast – he would spend the next 32 years there. The initial journey itself was a "great adventure", travelling by boat from Dublin over a period of three weeks. "We stopped at Lisbon and various ports and islands like Trinidad and Barbados. In Lisbon, a priest met us and arranged for us to go to Fatima. We met a young English Anglican priest who was going to Trinidad, and we struck up a great friendship – it was the beginning of ecumenism! It was all very eye-opening after being in the seminary. While on our way to Brazil, Pope John XXIII died and Pope Paul VI was elected."

When they reached Belém, a port city in the north of Brazil, they were met by a confrère and brought to the city's Redemptorist house. Once their paperwork was completed, they flew to Pedro Afonso in the centre of Brazil – "a small town on a very wide river [Tocantins], cut off from civilisation" (however, a new road was under construction from Brazilia to Belém which would run past the town). During his early years in Brazil, Fr Tony also spent time in São Paulo in the south of the country and Fortaleza in the north-east.

His first major placement was in a new parish in Iguatu on the river Jaguaribe, some 350 kilometres inland from Fortaleza. "It was a big parish covering half of the city and a rural area," says Fr Tony. "The Redemptorist community there consisted of myself and the parish priest, Fr Michael Kelly. The Second Vatican Council had finished in 1965, the documents of the council were coming out, and big changes were coming. We began to say Mass in Portuguese and to dress

in civilian clothes and go out to the community more. "At the same time, the military dictatorship had taken over [in 1964], and the question of liberation theology was beginning to grow, and we were starting to move in that direction. We began to focus more on the social dimension of our apostolate, supporting people who were suppressed by the military government."

Fr Tony recalls the extreme poverty in Iguatu, where he says there were funerals "almost every day" for babies who had died from dehydration and disease. "There was very little healthcare for poor people. Fr Michael started a clinic in the parish, he got a doctor to run it, and they got

As Redemptorists, we always had that sense that we might be going on the foreign missions

Fr Tony with family and friends after his ordination at Aughrim Street Church, January 1962

medicines like penicillin and started to distribute. It was very effective."

When Fr Michael finished up at the end of 1969, Fr Tony was appointed parish priest of Iguatu for the following five years, sharing the workload with two other priests. In this role, he had several meetings with Bishop of Iguatu José Mauro Famalho, who had been heavily involved in Vatican II and was keen to put its resolutions into practice in the diocese.

MISSIONARY GROUP

Fr Tony also served for two years as secretary to the Bishop of the Diocese of Miracema do Norte (Jim Collins CSsR from Kerry). During that time, he was part of a missionary group travelling to various parishes for missions. "There was a great difficulty with travel, with the huge river, long distances and dirt roads. We said Mass and preached every day. The emphasis was quite social; we were helping people to know their rights in the face of land conflicts," he explains. "Land was being taken over, and those living on the land were getting thrown out to make huge farms for cattle or cotton. Priests became advocates in this struggle, and we were instructed on the law and how to help people fight for their rights. It was a dangerous time, and many people were threatened; others were killed."

The years in Brazil brought both joys and sorrows. "We had a great relationship with the people. They were very open and shared their joys and sorrows with us. There was much celebration at times of Carnival, Christmas, around football and World Cups," recalls Fr Tony. "However, we had a big tragedy in 1973 when Fr Paddy Fitzgerald drowned. He had just arrived a few months previously. On a personal level, my mother died in 1963 and my father in 1970 while I was away. Some of my brothers and sisters also died while I was away. For any foreign missionary, that is a huge thing to deal with."

By the mid-1980s, Fr Tony had been teaching students in the seminary in Fortaleza for several years but felt that a new challenge might be on the horizon. "At the end of my time teaching, I had a sense that some change was coming for me. I spoke to our vice-provincial in Brazil, Fr Richard Delahunty, and got permission to do a pastoral year in Dublin on peace studies from 1987-88 [with the Jesuits in Milltown Park]. It was a small group, and I found the studies very interesting."

CALL OF THE EAST

It was one of his fellow students who unwittingly set the wheels in motion for the next chapter of his life: "It was during that time that I got the idea of going to Russia. A lady on the course had been to Russia and gave me a brochure, and I got permission to go on a tour. A priest friend of mine in England was on one of the international peace groups and he encouraged me, saying it would be interesting to get an idea of what was happening in Russia," says Fr Tony.

This two-week trip in October 1988 made a deep impression on him as he got to know the country, its people and language, and learned about the Catholic Church's predicament there. On his return, he wrote an article for Reality about his experience. "Our Redemptorist in Rome who was responsible for Eastern Europe got my article, so he knew of my interest. I went back to Brazil but continued my interest in Russia," says Fr Tony. In 1993, he went on a second trip; this time, he visited the Redemptorists in Siberia and met Bishop Joseph Werth, who was keen to have him come to live and work in Siberia – the Catholic Church was enjoying a period of openness and revival following the break-up of the Soviet Union in 1991. The Irish Provincial, Fr Brendan Callanan, agreed to the move, and Fr Tony eventually embarked on the long journey to Siberia in April 1996.

A young Fr Tony in the Redemptorist missionary habit Fr Tony with friends in Brazil

AMONGST Remarkable Women

THIS YEAR MARKS THE 250th ANNIVERSARY OF THE ARRIVAL IN IRELAND OF THE URSULINE SISTERS,WHOSE PRESENCE HAS HAD A REMARKABLE IMPACT.

BY JOHN SCALLY

Just as the Reformation was taking hold in Europe, a young Italian woman called Angela Merici had a vision of a new and revolutionary way of integrating women into the educational ministry of the church. Angela was born in the old part of Desenzano on Lake Garda in northern Italy sometime between 1470 and 1475. As a teenager, she felt called to do something worthwhile with her life. Her understanding of her mission was moulded by a vision she had while having a siesta in the nearby village of Brudazzo. Suddenly, she heard music and heavenly voices. When she opened her eyes, there among the olive trees she saw a ladder rising to heaven. Angels were on the ladder, playing instruments, and young women were singing. Legend has it that the melody made such a deep impression on Angela that she could sing it many years later. In that vision, God told her she was to help other women and girls to live in ways that would propel them heavenward.

For Angela, women were the ones who could challenge the corruption of the Renaissance society of the time. Passing on the faith to young women would improve the faith of society as a whole. In 1531, Angela began to develop a new community

of women. Says the leader of the Ursulines in Ireland, Sr Anne Harte Barry: "At a time when there were only two options for women – marriage or cloister – she led women in a new way, and in 1535 established a form of consecrated life in the world without the protection of the cloister. It is a way of life still lived by many of her followers. Subsequent developments led to the development of two other strands. First, an uncloistered consecrated life with simple vows and a commitment to the Christian education of girls developed in France, followed later by a cloistered form of consecrated life with solemn vows."

Nano Nagle – her intervention brought the Ursulines to Ireland

for girls. They had 12 boarders, and it was an instant success. The sisters opened their doors to rich and poor alike. They soon received so many applications for their school that they were obliged to adjust their plans. The school quickly became a badge of honour to a subjugated and disadvantaged people.

THE TRIP TO TIPP

The next step on the Ursulines' Irish teaching congregation throughout idea of an Ursuline foundation in journey came in 1787 when, after Europe and the New World. Its Ireland. Having received permission completing her noviciate in Cork, legacy and ongoing impact are still from the Archbishop of Paris, Sister Clare Ursula (Anastasia Tobin), apparent almost five centuries later, Margaret and Nano sailed from Le returned to her native Thurles, Co most notably, but not exclusively, Havre to Cork. Margaret's health Tipperary, in response to a request in the formation of dynamic, well- declined, and she returned to from the Archbishop of Cashel. Pope educated women. Through their France after a year. She was not in Pius VI had given permission for this teaching, the sisters exercised a a cloistered state which created new foundation. Sr Clare Ursula set Its legacy and profound influence the hope that other sisters would up school in a little thatched cottage ongoing impact are still apparent almost on the social life of the communities in which they lived. be allowed to follow her example. With the money bequeathed to her by her uncle, and with help from which was also the convent for nine years. It was described as "so crazy that every blast of wind seemed five centuries later, After some false dawns, her brother, Nano built a convent likely to throw down the walls". most notably, but the Ursulines finally arrived in Ireland in 1771 in Cove Lane, Cork, in preparation for the Ursuline sisters' arrival. Meek and mild these sisters were not. In 1804 the Mother Superior not exclusively, in the through the intervention The first group, accurately heard rumours that a barracks for formation of dynamic, well-educated women. of Nano Nagle, founder of the Irish Presentation Sisters. Margaret Butler, described as 'contraband freight', landed in Cork in May 1771. The first Ursuline convent in Ireland British soldiers was to be established nearby. Worried that their presence would be detrimental to the moral a cousin of Nano's, had was opened on Ascension Thursday, fibre of her school girls, she took URSULINES AND EDUCATION joined the Ursulines in France. In May 9, 1771. Eight months later, they pen in hand and made her feelings One strand of the Ursuline family 1767, Nano joined her in order to opened a boarding school, one of the known to the Lord Lieutenant in would become a key female enter religious life and explore the first Irish Catholic secondary schools Dublin Castle. It was a bold move given the political climate. How could a note from a Roman Catholic nun who led a community of just four expect to change the plans of the greatest army the world had ever seen? The letter of reply stated in language that a bureaucrat could only write that her concerns had found a receptive audience and the barracks would be situated elsewhere. In sporting parlance, the outcome was: Ursulines 1: British Army 0.

Castle, Cathedral and Ursuline Convent in Thurles Sr Anne Harte Barry, leader of the Ursulines in Ireland

The Ursuline Convent and School in Waterford

PIONEERING PRINCIPLES

In 1816, the Waterford convent was founded by four sisters from Thurles. It was the 'year of the bad flour', which meant that often there was no food. They couldn't afford 'the good flour' available in shops at a very high price.

In 1926, the introduction of the Montessori school there attracted great praise. Then senator William Butler Yeats visited it in his capacity as a government committee member appointed to investigate the state of Irish education. As a result of this visit, the Ursulines in Waterford can claim to have left an indelible mark not just on the Irish educational landscape but also on the Irish literary landscape. His visit is credited as the inspiration for Yeats' famous poem 'Among School Children':

I walk through the long schoolroom questioning;

A kind old nun in a white hood replies;

The children learn to cipher and to sing,

To study reading-books and history, To cut and sew, be neat in everything In the best modern way.

TAKING THE SCENIC ROUTE

The Ursulines came to Sligo in 1850 via a complex maze of detours and ecclesiastical turf wars. They continued the sisters' tradition of breaking the glass ceiling. The school in Sligo was originally a Gaelscoil. One of the sisters, Mother Mary of the Sacred Heart, wrote the first Irish-language science book for secondary schools, Eolaíocht do'n Scoláire Og. In 1966, the first female Young Scientist of the Year, Mary Finn, came from the school.

What unites Ursulines everywhere is "the love of Christ which urge us on" (2 Cor 5:14). United by that passion, the Ursulines have given effective witness to the love that makes them live. Reflecting on religious life in the western world today, Sr Anne Harte-Barry observes: "We are at the end of an era. Religious life as our forebearers knew it is changing. Its shape in 50 or a hundred years is unknown to us now. Religion and religious life are so different from when we were growing up and need to evolve in line with people's experience, with the exciting and wonderful scientific and theological insights and developments which are calling for a new way of being religious and of being Christian today."

Just as Angela Merici conceived of a new way of being a religious sister 500 years ago, so today, new forms of religious life will emerge to address the challenges of the digital age.

John Scally teaches theology at Trinity College, Dublin. He has a special interest in the areas of ethics and history.

WITH A FATHER'S HEART

ON THE FEAST OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION 2020, POPE FRANCIS FORMALLY LAUNCHED THE SPECIAL JUBILEE YEAR IN HONOUR OF ST JOSEPH. IT WILL CONCLUDE ON THE SAME DAY IN 2021.

BY BRENDAN McCONVERY CSsR

Pope Francis has never made any secret of his devotion to St Joseph. He inaugurated his pontificate on St Joseph's feast. In his homily, he spoke of St Joseph's role as protector and reminded us that we are all called to be protectors of creation, "protectors of God's plan inscribed in nature, protectors of one another and of the environment." One of his first official acts was to approve a proposal his predecessor had not been able to ratify, namely to include the name of St Joseph in all the Eucharistic Prayers of the Mass and not simply in the first (the traditional Roman Canon), where it had been inserted in 1962 by another papal lover of St Joseph, Pope St John XXIII.

A curious, and usually unnoticed, feature on Francis' papal coat of arms is the symbol of the spikenard, an ancient fragrant plant mentioned in the Bible. This has been identified as the flower that often appears in representations of St Joseph. On another occasion, Pope Francis told visitors how he kept a sleeping St Joseph figure on his desk and slipped requests for prayer under it, confident that St Joseph would think about it while he slept. He joked that, like a good carpenter, Joseph might keep you waiting, but you could be sure he would do a good job when he got around to it!

In a footnote to the apostolic letter instituting this special year in honour of St Joseph, he reveals another of his devotions to the saint. "Every day, for over 40 years, following Lauds I have recited a prayer to Saint Joseph taken from a19th century French prayer book… It expresses devotion and trust and even poses a certain challenge to Saint Joseph: 'Glorious Patriarch Saint Joseph, whose power makes the impossible possible, come to my aid in these times of anguish and difficulty. Take under your protection the serious and troubling situations that I commend to you, that they may have a happy outcome. My beloved father, all my trust is in you. Let it not be said that I invoked you in vain, and since you can do everything with Jesus and Mary, show me that your goodness is as great as your power. Amen.'"

WHY THIS YEAR?

The announcement of a special year in honour of St Joseph came as something of a surprise. The year 2020 marked the 150th anniversary of the proclamation of St Joseph as Patron of the Universal Church by Pope Pius IX in 1870.

That was a difficult time for the church and the papacy. The first Vatican council, which began on December 8,1869, defined the infallibility of the pope in July 1870. The approach towards Rome of the armies of the new Italian state brought it to a hasty conclusion. On September 20, 1870, Rome, the ancient city of the popes, was declared capital of the newly-united Kingdom of Italy. The state confiscated the Quirinale, the popes' summer residence, for use as the palace of Victor Emmanuel, the first king of Italy. In the aftermath of these events, Pius IX proclaimed St Joseph as Patron of the Universal Church by the decree Quemadmodum Deus – opening words for "just as almighty God appointed Joseph, son of the patriarch Jacob over all the land of Egypt…".

While it had been in session, the council had invoked the prayers of Joseph for what it anticipated would be difficult days ahead:

And now, therefore, when in these most troublesome times the church is beset by enemies on every side and is weighed down by calamities so heavy that ungodly men assert that the gates of hell have at length prevailed against her, the venerable prelates of the whole Catholic world have

presented to the Sovereign Pontiff their own petitions and those of the faithful committed to their charge, praying that he would deign to constitute

St Joseph Patron of the Church…

Accordingly, it has now pleased our

Most Holy Sovereign, Pope Pius IX … to comply with the prelates' desire and has solemnly declared St Joseph Patron of the Catholic Church.

In 1883, Pope Leo XIII instructed that the rosary be recited each day of October along with a special prayer to St Joseph. One of its invocations summed up the reasons for special prayer to St Joseph: "As thou didst snatch the Child Jesus from danger of death, so now defend the holy Church of God from the snares of the enemy and from all adversity."

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5. Joseph is an example of creative courage in facing the challenges of life. Francis singles out the holy family's stay in Egypt as an occasion when that creative courage was manifest. What did it mean for a young couple with few resources to head off into the unknown of a strange land? Although the gospel narrative tells is little about their stay in Egypt, "they certainly needed to eat, to find a home and employment. It does not take much imagination to fill in those details. The Holy Family had to face concrete problems like every other family, like so many of our migrant brothers and sisters who, today too, risk their lives to escape misfortune and hunger." This makes them the special patrons of those people so The symbols on Pope Francis' coat of arms are: 1. The traditional close to the heart of Pope Francis, "all abbreviation of the Holy Name of Jesus (IHS), for his religious order, the those forced to leave their native lands "WITH A FATHER'S HEART" Jesuits. 2. The star (traditional symbol of Blessed Virgin Mary). 3. The because of war, hatred, persecution and The title of Pope Francis's Apostolic spikenard flower, associated with St Joseph. poverty.” Letter initiating the Year of St Joseph is be in complete control, yet God always sees the 6. Joseph is a working father. This has Patris Corde – 'with a father's heart'. The Holy Father bigger picture." been central to the church's teaching on St Joseph identifies seven aspects of the paternal relationship 3. Joseph was an obedient father. His obedience throughout the modern age. We will return to of Joseph and Jesus which are an excellent summary was manifest in his willingness to respond to the will this again. of the meaning of devotion to St Joseph. of God that was often revealed to him in dreams. 7. Joseph is a father in the shadows. Here Pope 1. First and foremost, Joseph is a beloved father This same spirit of obedience was transmitted to Francis addresses some of his most telling words to who has been venerated and honoured by believers Jesus. During the hidden years passed in Nazareth, fathers today. Fathers, he reminds us, are not born on account of the special relationship they share Jesus learned from the example of Joseph how to but made. Men do not become fathers simply by with him. "Thanks to his role in salvation history, become at the most difficult moment of his life begetting offspring. One of the tragedies of family Saint Joseph has always been venerated as a father "obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Phil life today is that children, even when both their by the Christian people. This is shown by the 2:8). During the hidden years in Nazareth, Joseph parents are still alive, often seem orphans, lacking countless churches dedicated to him worldwide, was Jesus's tutor on how to do the will of the Father. fathers. Fatherhood is a challenge, for becoming a the numerous religious Institutes, confraternities 4. Joseph was an accepting father. From the very father "entails introducing children to life and reality. and ecclesial groups inspired by his spirituality beginning of the infancy Gospel, Joseph was a Not holding them back, being overprotective or and bearing his name, and the many traditional model of unconditional acceptance. He accepted possessive, but rather making them capable of expressions of piety in his honour." the shock of Mary's pregnancy unconditionally, deciding for themselves, enjoying freedom and 2. Joseph is a tender and loving father. Pope Francis even when he could only grasp its importance by exploring new possibilities." considers that Joseph learned the deeper meaning trusting totally in what was revealed to him. This of fatherhood in his daily prayer of the Psalms that is something, Pope Francis suggests, that makes CONCLUSION often invoked God's memory as father. Being a him a model of authentic masculinity. "Today, in The Year of St Joseph, as Pope Francis sets it before father was not something that came without some our world where psychological, verbal and physical us, is a challenge and invitation to the whole church, degree of struggle, but Joseph believed God was at violence towards women is so evident, Joseph but especially to its younger male members who work in him. His example, Pope Francis suggests, appears as the figure of a respectful and sensitive are already fathers or who are preparing to face the "teaches us that faith in God includes believing that man. Even though he doesn't understand the bigger challenge of fatherhood. he can work even through our fears, our frailties and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to picture, he decides to protect Mary's good name, her dignity and her life. In his hesitation about how best to act, God helped him by enlightening his judgment.” Fr Brendan McConvery CSsR is editor of Reality. He has published The Redemptorists in Ireland (1851 – 2011), St Gerard Majella: Rediscovering a Saint and historical guides to Redemptorist foundations in Clonard, Limerick and Clapham, London.

THE COMPLEX LANDSCAPE OF THE PAST

WHILE MANY PEOPLE SPEAK NEGATIVELY ABOUT THE IRELAND OF THE PAST, THE AUTHOR REFLECTS ON AN UPBRINGING THAT WAS BENIGN RATHER THAN OPPRESSIVE.

BY KEVIN WILLIAMS

Recently some old friends have been sharing photos of GAA and athletics teams from our schooldays. This prompted me to excavate the memories of my youth and, like Marcel Proust, enter into a search for my past. My memories of my schooldays

that ended over four decades ago little reflect the stories of intellectual suffocation and general repression that some people recall. Conversations with contemporaries encourage me to feel I have not been practising memory burial.

So what was it like as a pupil of St Paul's Raheny, the Vincentian school that I attended? Religion lessons included much discussion of fundamental philosophical

proofs for God's existence are alive in my mind, and I continue to find most of them persuasive. Yet I remain perplexed by the contradiction in the argument from causality. If everything must have a cause, then how can it be claimed that God is uncaused? I also enjoyed discussion about the nature and status of angels and Class differences were reflected in the sports that people especially of guardian angels. played and followed. Growing up, we were aware of this This is not to say division, and it was captured in the dictum that soccer is a that the boys in my class were all equally gentleman's game played by hooligans, rugby is a hooligans' intrigued by the lessons. game played by gentlemen, and Gaelic football is a hooligans' Apart from a small game played by hooligans. group, most treated the whole business with a mild indifference. and theological matters, and a key text was I cannot recall fear of hell having the slightest Archbishop Michael Sheehan's Apologetics influence on anyone's behaviour – which was and Catholic Doctrine. To this day, St Thomas' little different from that of young people

today. I certainly have no recollection of compliant Catholics assiduously fulfilling religious duties. Instead, my recollections are of boys who were as enthusiastic for sexual activity, alcohol, and even drugs as today's young people are supposed to be. The conduct and values of my contemporaries were not conspicuously different from those of youth today.

Most of my contemporaries connected as little with Irish as they did with religion and I suspect that few can speak more than a couple of words of the language today. I resonated with Irish and enjoyed accessing its inner workings and comparing them to English, French and Latin.

SCEPTICAL

These recollections serve to make me sceptical of those who speak of a past populated by biddable youths governed by moral police and equally harsh zealots forcing the language on the young. Compulsory study of religion and of Irish did not produce adults committed to the faith and proficient in the language.

The spirit of the school was liberal, partly because it was run by the Vincentians who had a commitment to humane learning. This spirit is communicated in an interview with the late Eugene McCabe, who died in 2020, which appeared in a volume edited by the late Dan Murphy of Trinity College.

McCabe attended Castleknock, another Vincentian college, during the 1940s and he remembers warmly the intellectual, cultural and sporting climate of the school at the time. The emphasis on sport did not detract from a high value being placed on literature. He benefited from tuition from very good English teachers and, most of all, he was encouraged to write, especially by the late Fr Donal Cregan, who was to become president of St Patrick’s, Drumcondra.

Interestingly, too, McCabe experienced little sense of Irish nationhood in the school's ethos. Still, he was to write powerful plays dealing with the 'Troubles' in the North. In a similar vein, John McGahern speaks of the relaxed, non-punitive climate of his secondary school run by the Presentation Brothers. He claims that they were 'liberal' and 'encouraged reading' and thus quite unlike the Christian Brothers.

CLASS ELEMENT

The class element implied in McGahern's distinction between the Presentation Brothers and the Christian Brothers was not absent from leafy Clontarf in the 1960s and 70s. He mentions this in his Memoirs and in interviews where he refers to teaching in Belgrove, the local national school. In Clontarf, class differences were reflected in the sports that people played and followed. Growing up, we were aware of this division, and it was captured in the dictum that soccer is a gentleman's game played by hooligans, rugby is a hooligans' game played by gentlemen, and Gaelic football is a hooligans' game played by hooligans. It is interesting to note that those who played these sports referred to their chosen game as 'football', which, for me, meant GAA. Though I played all three, I never resonated to the allegiance many displayed towards English soccer teams or 'football clubs', as they called them.

Such volumes of reminiscences as Catholic Girls and Convent Girls and, indeed, the fictional account of education in a wellknown Limerick school in The Land of Spices by Kate O'Brien confirm my impression that positive memories of school are quite common among many people who attended schools run by certain religious orders. These were the orders that generally served the middle class both in Ireland and elsewhere. Schools that served the more affluent tended to be liberal in their educational philosophy and encouraged intellectual inquiry on the part of pupils.

CAVEATS

Two qualifications need to be made here. First, not everyone who attended such schools had a positive experience. Undoubtedly, many past pupils of these schools look back with resentment upon their school days. Second, I do not for one moment want to suggest that the experience of intellectual stimulation and cultural enrichment was the exclusive preserve of a middle/upper-class constituency of learners. Many young people who came from modest backgrounds and attended less privileged schools also enjoyed a liberating education. Commitment to the promotion of honest and rigorous intellectual inquiry was also found among teachers of the less advantaged.

Yet a comprehensive review of different recollections of educational experiences would probably disclose significant correlation between class background and positive memories of the past.

Dr Kevin Williams is Senior Research Fellow at the Centre for Evaluation, Quality and Inspection, Institute of Education, DCU.