Easter Hope

At the height of the Nortern Ireland troubles in the early 80’s, a classmate of mine wrote a song (echoing a general sense of despair) that had the following chorus:

It’s been so long since the Somme,

It’s been so long since Vietnam, 

It’s been so long since Derry 73.

It’s been so long since Calvary,

We must have lost our memory, 

to say we forgot He died for us too.

And the murder still goes on.

Christchurch, Derry, Sri Lanka... all  inviting us to follow the path of despair..... But the Millenial generation have embraced the Easter  message... in one voice the are shouting No No No.... this is not our way.., this is not done in our name.

It is time to ‘roll away the stone’ of violence, of bitterness, each life is precious .  

There is another way ... the way of peace and justice.

Click on this link for How Great Thou Art – Hollie Smith and Teeks

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqoG-znXf7I

'Solace in the midst of woe.'

The Tapestry

My life is but a weaving

 Between my Lord and me ;

I cannot choose the colours

He worketh steadily.

Sometimes he weaveth sorrow

And I in foolish pride,

Forget he sees the upper, 

And I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent

And the shittle  cease to fly,

Shall God unroll the canvas

And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful

In the Weavers hand

as the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,

nothing thic truth can dim,

He gives  His very best to those

who leave the choice to him.

(Author unknown)

This poem became popular when Corrie teri Boom included it I n her book  named The Hiding Place.

I always associate it with a young mum Brid O Donoghue who tragically died from cancer. During her illness, Brid always like to crotchet and when I mention this to  her elderly neighbour, she in turn asked me to pass on this poem to her. For  Brid it proved verty much  a “solace in the midst of woe."

Washed by the soothing waters.

This Easter may we have the humility to dip our feet  in the soothing waters of spiritual refreshment.

Upside Down

(A Poem for Holy Thursday)

And everything is upside down,

like faces mirrored in a bowl:

an earthen vessel, roughly formed,

that's full of water while the one

who once was robed, incomp'rable,

in light removes his outer robe

to tie a tow'l, a servant's garb,

around his waist and stoops to wash

his foll'wer's feet of traces from

the dusty Roman roads they've walked.

Yes everything is upside down

for whom in all this world would like

to think that him whose praise we sang,

"Hosanna to King David's son,"

should stoop to take a servant's part.

Oh we would rather he should reign

on high with us at his right hand.

But Servant Lord, incomp'rable,

you call us to remove our pride,

an outer robe, and stoop to wash

all others' feet: humility,

and thrust down deep our dusty feet --

to take the love you offer us --

into the bowl reflecting you.

Capuchin Franciscan Province of St Joseph.

And some Caitlin thoughts!

Jesus, my feet are dirty.

Come even as a slave to me, pour water into your bowl, 

come and wash my feet.

In asking such a thing I know I am overbold, 

but I dread what was threatened when you said to me, 

“If I do not wash your feet I have no fellowship with you.”

Wash my feet then, because I long for your companionship.

So I had my feet washed by this man, for the first time ever and we smiled warmly at each other over that basin, and something shifted and gratitude followed.

Wherever you are and whoever is washing your feet, have a great Holy Day

Caitlin 

Blessing You Cannot Turn Back

For Holy Thursday

As if you could

stop this blessing

from washing

over you.

As if you could

turn it back,

could return it

from your body

to the bowl,

from the bowl

to the pitcher,

from the pitcher

to the hand

that set this blessing

on its way.

As if you could

change the course

by which this blessing

flows.

As if you could

control how it

pours over you—

unbidden,

unsought,

unasked,

yet startling

in the way

it matches the need

you did not know

you had.

As if you could

become undrenched.

As if you could

resist gathering it up

in your two hands

and letting your body

follow the arc

this blessing makes.

—Jan Richardson

 

Pobal Scoil Sliabh Luachra

Today our local school embarks on a journey in search of All Ireland glory. Today our children, our grand children, our neighbors our friends, shine a light on our little part of the world. Even before we begin we know the will do us proud... for we know them well.

Today the border is removed and cork and Kerry echo to United cheer.

If you can keep your head when all about you 
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; 
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 
But make allowance for their doubting too; 
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, 
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, 
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; 

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; 
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; 
If you can meet with triumph and disaster 
And treat those two imposters just the same; 
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken 
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, 
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings 
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, 
And lose, and start again at your beginnings 
And never breath a word about your loss; 
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew 
To serve your turn long after they are gone, 
And so hold on when there is nothing in you 
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, 
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; 
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; 
If all men count with you, but none too much; 
If you can fill the unforgiving minute 
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - 
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, 
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!