F E AT U R E
A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS WHEN JOHN SCALLY INTERVIEWED ARCHBISHOP EAMON MARTIN RECENTLY, THEY ENJOYED A ROBUST DISCUSSION ON EVERYTHING FROM EDUCATION TO THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. THE MEETING HAD AN ADDED SIGNIFICANCE FOR JOHN AS HE RECALLED AN ENCOUNTER FROM HIS STUDENT DAYS
Archbishop Eamon Martin
BY JOHN SCALLY
T
he first flinty hint of autumn’s breath was on the breeze, and after the quiet countryside of my home in Roscommon, Maynooth College’s waves of noise and movement seemed clamorous to me. It was my first day in university. That morning, like so many students, I walked through the hallowed gates for the first time. All around me there were little dramas playing out. In all the faces I saw depths of intensity and unfulfilled longings. I knew nobody. Worse, I knew nothing. I had no idea where I was meant to be and I found mys elf lost , literally and metaphorically. I felt the bitter taste of panic forming in my mouth. In desperation I asked a passing priest for help. I would come to know him later as an icon of intellectual life in Ireland, the late Professor Ronan Drury who was editor of the influential journal The Furrow for many years. He listened patiently to my tale of woe and sensed the anxiety in my voice.
One sentence of his sticks with me to this day: “If only people got elected for doing acts of kindness, then politics would be very different.” 18 REALITY MARCH 2022
FRIENDLY FACE A young seminarian was passing by and Professor Drury called him over and instructed him to ‘look after me’. This clerical student was clearly a veteran of Maynooth College life, and my anxiety quickly faded away like snow melting in a thaw. He brought me to the theology department and waited outside for me while I was registering. Then he took me to meet Mrs Kelly in the student accommodation office and I got my digs sorted out. From there he brought me back to his room and made me a lovely cup of tea with biscuits. We chatted away for a few hours. He told me about his upbringing in Derry during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. He expressed his hope that, as a priest, he would be able to bring a little light to the darkness. One sentence of his sticks with me to this day: “If only people got elected for doing acts of kindness, then politics would be very different.” I quickly saw that he combined a deep sense of justice with an equally deep sense of compassion. It was impossible not to respect his judgement and integrity. For my part, I told him about my childhood on a small farm in Roscommon. As it was approaching lunchtime, he brought me over to the refectory in the seminary and treated me to a delicious meal. Then it was time for a thrilling tour around
the college. Suddenly I felt I was at home. We shook hands and said goodbye like old friends afterwards. The time with him had given me the space to clear my head, and I returned to start my college adventure with renewed energy. Such is the nature of college life that in my four years in Maynooth our paths barely crossed again. But I never forgot his kindness to me on that scary day. To this day, whenever I think of Maynooth, it is the kindness of that stranger that first comes to my mind. Although we didn’t keep in touch, I never forgot him. NEW PRIMATE Many years later I was watching the news and the announcement was made that the Catholic Church in Ireland had a new Primate. His name was Eamon Martin from Derry. He was that young seminarian I had met on my first day in Maynooth. Recently, I was delighted to have the opportunity to spend some time again with the man whose kindness had left such an enduring impression on me. This time around, our conversation covered some serious themes. As a former teacher and school principal, Archbishop Martin has a particular interest in education and he was eager to highlight Pope Francis’ recent reflections on the challenges facing young people.
