A great day's cycling from Tallaght to Donard and then a climb to the top of Lugnaquilla and cyle back to Tallaght. |
Today's Irish Times Thinking Anew
By Michael Commane
If I were asked what were the great memories of my early days in the Dominican Order I would immediately say the introduction I got to cycling and walking in the great outdoors.
Indeed, before joining I did cycle to and from school and spent the summer holidays in the country, but the idea of cycling 100 kilometres or more in a day was foreign to me. So too were expeditions that meant climbing mountains more than 1,000 metres high.
The excitement, the annoyance, the sheer toughness of a day’s hike is an incredible experience. The same goes for a long cycle. The next uphill climb fills one with fear and trepidation. Then the downhill and speed of it is nothing but sensational. And the same goes for getting to the top of a mountain. Pure exhilaration.
In tomorrow's Gospel we read those familiar lines: “A voice of one that cries in the desert: Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight! Let every valley be filled in, every mountain and hill be levelled, winding ways be straightened and rough roads made smooth, and all humanity will see the salvation of God.” (Luke 3: 4 - 5)
When one has spent six or seven hours walking in rough terrain a magic wand that would fill in valleys and straighten hills would be much appreciated. But that’s not the way it is. And no one ever goes out on a day’s walking ever hoping or expecting something like that to happen.
As Christians we believe that after death all the mountains are straightened out and the valleys filled in but before that final call we are destined to experience every sort of turn and curve, sudden climb and sharp descent. It’s the way of the world.
There is something in the adage that life is a valley of tears. Maybe that hits us more forcibly as we grow older. Young healthy people consider themselves almost indestructible. But all we have to do is look about us and see the suffering that exists in every nook and cranny of the world about us.
Every night on television we see horrific pain and slaughter meted out to people, irrespective of age, gender, geographical setting.
One in five children in Ireland goes to bed hungry and one in seven people in the world has not enough to eat. There’s no need for such suffering and yet it happens.
Individually each one of us is called to play our part in straightening the roads, filling in the valleys and levelling the hills. Of course there is never going to be perfection on this earth of ours. But that does not mean we should not try to fix things, making things better for those who are in pain and suffering, for those who are mistreated and misunderstood.
The one who cries in the desert is the precursor of Jesus. Far too often it is inconvenient to listen to the prophet, to listen to the person who is talking out of synch with the prevailing fashions.
There is nothing level and smooth about the world and the lives we live.
Constantly we are challenged to go a step further, to take risks, to walk the unexpected road, all the time trying to understand things better so that we can come to the help and assistance of others.
Advent is a fitting time to see the world as it is, with all its pain and suffering and joy too. In many ways you could say it is similar to that feeling on the mountain. That’s why so much pious talk is cant and humbug. But we believe in paradise, there the valleys are filled in and the mountains levelled.
We are taking part in in a process. In the meantime we take the good with the bad, all the time trying to improve things, especially for those less fortunate.
1 comment:
Michael,
Thank you for the piece in Saturday's copy of The Irish Times. I really enjoyed reading it.
You speak of a 'paradise' you believe in.
I am not sure what kind of paradise I believe in, if any, but I hope it will not involve the boredom of landscape I would associate with an environment without valleys and hills!
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