Tschüẞ to the daily print edition of Die Tageszeitung

Today marks a special day in German newspaper history.

The daily national newspaper, Die Tageszeitung, also known as taz, is publishing today for the last time its daily print edition.

From tomorrow the print edition will appear at the weekend, the daily newspaper will only be digitally available.

The newspaper first appeared in 1978 and would be seen as an alternative read with Green left tendencies.

It is the first nationwide German daily newspaper to disappear from kiosks and shops.

It was always interesting to see where and by whom Die Tageszeitung was read. It was most interesting too to observe in German Dominican communities who’d be reading taz at breakfast, indeed, also the communities that bought the daily newspaper.

The Wit of the Catholics as per 1971

The Wit of the Catholics compiled by Richard Huggett was published in 1971.

It is a compilation of jokes, comments, funny stories and yarns from the mouths of Catholics and about Catholics.

Some are funny, some corny, no doubt wit changes over time but some of the so-called jokes, especially those about woman would be impossible to print today and are indeed, inappropriate at any time and in any circumstances.

On page 19 the following joke:

There are four things which even God doesn’t know:

1.    How much money a Benedictine has.

2.    What a Jesuit is thinking.

3.    What a Dominican is going to say next.

4.    How many orders of Nuns exist in France.

Another joke, this time on page 9:

“How many people work here in the Vatican?’ asked a visitor. The late Pope John [XXIII] shrugged his shoulders and smiled: “About half of them."

St Thomas Aquinas even questioned his own answers

The piece below is a letter in response to yesterday's blogpost. 

Dear Michael,

Your ‘Occasional Scribble’ for 15 October set me thinking.

It brought my mind back to those nineteen seventies, when, like you, I was a student of theology in Tallaght. The contrast between two contrasting and perhaps opposing attitudes to the search for God and/or for life’s meaning rings bells in my heart and mind as I picture my own ‘spiritual’ journey up to now and its current ‘state of health’.

Yes, I too occasionally hear the kind of ‘religious’ talk that gives the impression that all serious questions have already been answered satisfactorily and that the only ‘pastoral task’ still to be completed is to convince those who do not yet believe that paying close attention to official church documents and even occasional pronouncements from church authorities will clear their path to ‘contented discipleship’. 

And I also hear conversations that pose the big questions, conversations and discussions, discussions that may press the ‘pause’ button without having solved anything but also without losing hope or confidence that some ‘ongoing sense of life’s meaning’ may still be found and identified. 

I am often asked whether Thomas Aquinas or Thomas the Apostle is my ‘patron saint’. My answer, occasionally, is ‘it depends’! When I am or feel secure in my religious belief and thus sense I am moving along the best road forward, then I feel somehow closer to Aquinas, who produced such quality theology, born not only of an inquisitive mind but also of a heart that longed for the support of God’s presence. 

When, on the other hand, I find that doubts arising in my mind aren’t going away and seem even more securely embedded than the theological ‘certainties’ I had been taught by contemporary teachers and interpreters of Aquinas, then my answer might well be ‘the doubting Thomas’. 

Finally, I realised recently that I could call Aquinas my patron even on the darkest days, on occasions when my faith seemed less secure and even problematic. 

St Thomas Aquinas, you see, did not only answer thousands of theological questions convincingly and inspire others for centuries after his time to believe they could also face life’s questions with hope and with an expectation that darkness might yield to fresh daylight. Not only that: Aquinas, 

I realise, also courageously questioned the very answers he had outlined and shared.

Thomas McCarthy, OP

Searching for God among the sick and the downtrodden

This week’s column in The Kerryman newspaper.

Michael Commane

Do you ever have moments that force you back in time? I had one of those last week. 

I was standing in the same car park of a church I remember being in one Christmas morning, probably 64 years ago. There were five of us in the car, mum and dad in the front and the three children in the back. We were going to early Mass so that we’d get it over and then when we got home we’d have all day to play with our presents, eat the dinner and then relax afterwards before my sister and myself prepared a surprise evening snack. 

Yes, we were going to Mass, it had something to do with Holy God but I explicitly remember we were going there and at that time so that it would not interfere with Christmas Day at home. We went up to Holy Communion, received it on the tongue. Some years earlier I had been told never to let my teeth touch the Host.

Sixty four years later I’m standing in front of the same church, asking myself where am I with my faith today.

The previous day I read a religious publication. It left me cold. It was so cosy, supplying all the answers. As if to say this is the only way to God.

The following day I saw that Pope Leo had published the first major document of his pontificate, where he calls on all Christians to make their voices heard in decrying the sinful structures that contribute to poverty and make life for the poor even more miserable than it already is.

I found myself saying that’s more like it. Indeed, this was the sort of thinking that I heard from my mother when I was a child and young man.

When I was ordained a priest in Tallaght in 1974 there was great excitement across the church; Vatican 

Two had happened and its consequences were spreading right down to the pews. We as young Dominicans were building friendships with our fellow clerical students in the Anglican Communion. 

In class we were being told to look at sin as the breaking of a relationship with God. We were reading and studying theologies of other faiths. Social justice was given high priority in our studies. It was a time of exciting questioning.

Tallaght was changing from a village to a large Dublin suburb and the Dominicans played a significant role in the building of community halls, schools and churches.

They were refreshing days. There may have been upheaval but there was honesty and people were not afraid to speak their minds. 

Here we are today and there is no doubt the younger men to whom we are passing on the baton prefer to return to a certainty; God is in heaven; if we do this and that we will discover God. But what exactly is the this and the that? 

Surely it’s the hallmark of the Gospel story to listen to people, to meet them where they are and even to learn from them, especially listening to the marginalised, the sick and downtrodden, because it is there we find God, and through them, God calls us to a deeper relationship with the Divine and humankind.

Filipino boss of the Dominican Order visits Ireland

The Master of the Dominican Order, Filipino,

Fr Gerard Francisco Timoner OP

Gerard Francisco Timoner III is in Ireland at present.

During the nine-year tenure of the Master of the Order he is obliged to visit every entity of the Order worldwide.

During Fr Timoner’s visit to Ireland from October 12 to October 25 he will speak with the 103 Dominicans living in Ireland. He will also visit the Dominican Nuns in Drogheda and the Sisters in Cabra.

Below is a link to the Mass celebrated at Knock yesterday, where a young Dominican made his solemn profession.

Accompanying Fr Gerard on his visit is German Dominican, Fr Thomas Brogl, whose brief covers Dominicans in Ireland and in a number of other northern European countries.

Fr Timoner’s Knock sermon is worth a listen.

https://www.youtube.com/live/dcyvCWS0o_4?si=7teOAvZOsDUPLOOW

An unforgettable interview with the late Manchân Magan

The link below is Manchán

Magan talking from his sick bed, days before he died.

His mood is simply to behold and his knowledge and love leave one dumbstruck. Manchán died Thursday, October 2.

There is something wonderful about the interview, a realness, a genuine man speaking real genuine words. There is also a great sense of love and wonder about it.

A man of love and wisdom speaking real, loving genuine words, words with meaning.

 https://youtu.be/AahB_zREVQU?si=_VijLOR6LR3eK8uJ

An example of how cherry picking doesn’t tell the real story

The letter below appears in the

Weekend edition of The Irish Times:

Out of service

Sir, – Has anyone else noticed that the most frequent bus route in Dublin city centre at present is “Sorry not in Service”. – Yours, etc,

JOAN CHERRY,

Donnycarney,

Dublin 9.

It’s not so. There is an equal number of buses ‘Entering Service’

I am being factious.

As a regular bus user in the capital, it’s accurate and fair to say that the bus service that we currently have in the capital is the best in 0ver 70 years.

Seldom does one see a broken down bus and the buses are clean and generally on time

There have never been as many buses on as many routes in the capital as there are today, and that’s fact.

Maybe both Dublin Bus and Go Ahead are far more forthcoming with information today than they were in the past.

Maybe the name of the letter writer tells the real story.

Recalling the first day of the Second Vatican Council

On this day, October 11, 1962 the Second Vatican Council began its work. It was the first ecumenical council in close to 100 years. 

It brought great hope to the world. It’s now our task to work and pray that the spirit of that council will flourish and be renewed in today’s world.

Pope Leo condemns structures that damage the poor

PopeLeo XIV published yesterday the first major document of his pontificate in which he calls upon all the Christian faithful – especially Catholics – to “make their voices heard,” in decrying the sinful structures that contribute to poverty and make life for the poor even more miserable than it already is.  https://cruxnow.com/uncategorized/2025/10/leo-xiv-publishes-first-major-document-of-pontificate/

Manchán has moved on. We will miss him terribly

Róisín Ingle’s piece in The Irish Times yesterday. In all our lives there are moment of sadness, despair, pain, anger too.

Reading Ingle’s column is a moment to give us all hope, no mater how we are afflicted.

---

Two years ago, Manchán Magan and I sat on a bench in Merrion Square as he told me about his wish to “reanimate” the world.

He said he wanted to spend his life reminding people about the energy that connects them to their bodies, their minds and the land.

He spoke of “animism”, the idea that every rock and flower and branch and rainbow has a vibrating spirit or energy beyond and above what is human.

“I want us to remember that spirit within ourselves and within all things,” he said. “It makes life so much more enjoyable and rich and magical, and ensures that we treat each other and our environment with more love and respect and care.”

I was interviewing Manchán for this newspaper on the publication of his latest book. It was another delightful encounter with a man I had admired for years, bumping into him at writing festivals or at the Electric Picnic or around Dublin town. Each meeting was a pleasure. He never minded me trying out my terrible Irish on him.

I loved hearing his esoteric stories. He had an innocence, a twinkle. He fairly thrummed with goodness.

As everybody has been saying since his spirit left his body, there was nobody else like Manchán. He was both otherwordly and earthy, a sprite of a man firmly embedded in the here and now.

There was nothing preachy about how he imparted his knowledge of folklore, of indigenous cultures, of nature. He was gentle and joyful and unashamedly spiritual.

He was also a dream interviewee. There were no dud sentences when Manchán spoke. I remember how enjoyable it was to write up that interview, his eloquence making it so easy. I recall desperately wanting to find the right words to sum him up. In the final paragraph I described him as one of those “bright, rejuvenating people. . . a beacon of love, courage and curiosity”.

I wrote that after time spent with Manchán, you felt better about all that might be ailing you. Neither of us knew as we sat on that bench in Merrion Square that something serious was ailing both of us. We were diagnosed not too long afterwards.

I heard of his prostate cancer from a mutual friend, just as I was reeling from news of the breast cancer that had spread to my bones. I texted him in solidarity. We struck up an intimate friendship that played out in voice notes and video messages and too-rare but always fortifying real-life gatherings.

Video message

Manchán was a great man for a video message. You’d never know what you might get. There’d be news of the pigs on his Westmeath farm or of a thrifted tweed jacket keeping him cosy on a windswept beach and one time, an exciting dispatch from a noisy square in Mexico City.

The messages arrived in a lyrical mix of English and Irish. He shared health updates and life happenings. We felt the same about our illnesses. We didn’t want pity or head-tilts or cures or blessings. We wanted to live with our health challenges, not be defined by them.

I’ve thought a lot about the gifts that can come with a serious medical diagnosis. One of the most precious gifts cancer has given me is a deep friendship with this extraordinary Irish man. I was keenly aware of how fortunate I was to have him in my life. I’d play Manchán’s messages to my husband, who was equally charmed by his wit, generosity, compassion and wisdom.

The voice note Manchán sent last August to let me know his doctors had found more cancer in more parts of his body came as a shock. As he said in that typically upbeat message, this was not how it was supposed to go. Of the two of us, I was the one that we assumed was more riddled. (It was a relief that we could joke like this. We were not precious about each other’s predicaments.)

I’ve cried a lot these past few weeks. But I am so grateful that I got to say goodbye to Manchán in person, to laugh with him one last time, to hold his hand and witness the love and care between himself and his brilliant wife Aisling.

Since he left, I’ve been going through our messages, remembering how he made me smile and feel and think. I’ve been reading all the beautiful tributes online, in awe of how many lives he touched and his vast cultural legacy.

I’ve been listening back to the audio of that Merrion Square interview. Near the end of our conversation, Manchán questioned how long his success and popularity, both of which came as a surprise to him, would last. “I’ll probably have a year and a half and then I’ll either move on or be cancelled,” he said.

Now Manchán has moved on. We will miss him terribly. And yet he has me fully convinced that we will see him again: reanimated in rocks and flowers and rainbows. Vibrating in the wind and in the trees. Eloquently urging us, as he always did, to connect to the true spirit and energy in ourselves and in all things.

Go raibh maith agat, Manchán, mo chara. Agus grá mór.

Mansergh was the antithesis to social media echo chamber

This week’s column in The Kerryman newspaper.

Michael Commane

As a result of being in the doldrums in recent days I wasted far too much time scrolling on my phone and watching unbelievable rubbish, lies too. And is it addictive. 

I came across a video on YouTube of words purporting to be from Pope Leo about the death of Charlie Kirk. It just didn’t sound or feel like Pope Leo’s words. I checked the official Vatican website; not a sign of it. Pope Leo never said those words. Why are the social media companies allowed get away with it? 

The algorithms make it possible for the social media companies to feed you the material you want to see. That is beyond dangerous, worse than the old Wild West ever was.

On one clip I saw a man haranguing Micheál Martin on a public street. And because the Taoiseach would not engage with him he took off in a tantrum shouting nonsense.

It was only on reading the newspapers on Friday that I discovered Martin Mansergh had died. I was surprised to hear the news because I had only seen him a few weeks ago.

Regularly travelling by rail on the Cork Dublin service I would see Martin Mansergh reading a book or one of the many newspapers he had beside him. 

Living in Tipperary I presume he boarded the train either at Limerick Junction or Thurles. And it would appear he always travelled standard class. Indeed, the last time I saw him on the train he was asleep. On many occasions I was tempted to stop, say hello to him and compliment him on all the work he had done for the country. But I never did and now I regret it.

He was born in England. His background is Anglo Irish Protestant ascendancy and he traces his ancestry back to Cromwell.

He joined the Irish Civil Service as a young man  and later moved to politics at the behest of Charlie Haughey. He  was a Fianna Fáil TD for a number of years and also served as a minister of state. He played an important role in the confidential talks with Sinn Féin in the 1980s.

He was a highly intelligent man, who was respected and liked across the political divide. And one of the reasons for that was his ability to listen to people of different opinions. He was also a polite and gracious person.

Reading through the condolence book on RIP.ie it’s clear to see that he was a man who was always willing to listen to the opinions of others. He had time for other people and their views. I can see him there sitting in his seat on the train, reading or nodding off. I’m back thinking of the man who was so stupidly proud of haranguing Micheál Martin on the street that he featured it on his Facebook page.

To a casual onlooker like me, Martin Mansergh was the antithesis to everything social media is about. 

People on social media don’t listen to divergent viewpoints; they are too busy promoting their own causes, they are like echo chambers.

Ireland has lost a giant and unfortunately we are stuck with so many nasty peddlers on social media.

The Irish Constitution refers to the President as ‘he'

Below is a short extract from Article 12 of the Irish Constitution.

According to Article 12, 3.1 the President is a male person. Is our current election invalid, if not, why not? The pronoun ‘he’ is used right throughout Article 12 in Bunreacht na hÉireann.

ARTICLE 12

1 There shall be a President of Ireland (Uachtarán na hÉireann), hereinafter called the President, who shall take precedence over all other persons in the State and who shall exercise and perform the powers and functions conferred on the President by this Constitution and by law.

2     1° The President shall be elected by direct vote of the people.

2° Every citizen who has the right to vote at an election for members of Dáil Éireann shall have the right to vote at an election for President.

3° The voting shall be by secret ballot and on the system of proportional representation by means of the single transferable vote.

3     1° The President shall hold office for seven years from the date upon which he enters upon his office, unless before the expiration of that period he dies, or resigns, or is removed from office, or becomes permanently incapacitated, such incapacity being established to the satisfaction of the Supreme Court consisting of not less than five judges.

2° A person who holds, or who has held, office as President, shall be eligible for re-election to that office once, but only once.

3° An election for the office of President shall be held not later than, and not earlier than the sixtieth day before, the date of the expiration of the term of office of every President, but in the event of the removal from office of the President or of his death, resignation, or permanent incapacity established as aforesaid (whether occurring before or after he enters upon his office), an election for the office of President shall be held within sixty days after such event.

Presidential election highlights nonsense of Garda Vetting

There is much confusion surrounding the term ‘Garda Vetting’ as it is being used in the current presidential election campaign.

It seems Catherine Connolly’s employee had not received Garda Vetting certification; if so how was she able to work for Ms Connolly?

If the employee was not working with children or vulnerable persons, then was Garda Vetting required?

Is there a definition of ‘Vulnerable Persons’?

Garda Vetting and Security Clearance are different.

Any person who requires Garda Vetting for their employment may not begin in their job until they have received Garda Vetting certification.

The current controversy highlights many of the weaknesses of the current vetting system. The system in its current form is not fit for purpose.

From the website of the National Vetting Bureau

The National Vetting Bureau (Children and Vulnerable Persons) Acts 2012 to 2016 provide a statutory basis for the vetting of persons carrying out relevant work with children or vulnerable persons. The Act also creates offences and penalties for persons who fail to comply with its provisions.

The Act stipulates that a relevant organisation shall not permit any person to undertake relevant work or activities on behalf of the organisation, unless the organisation receives a vetting disclosure from the National Vetting Bureau in respect of that person. 

Garda vetting is conducted on behalf of registered organisations only and is not conducted for individual persons on a personal basis.

If you are seeking employment or intending to volunteer with an organisation which conducts relevant work, you may be asked to make an application to be vetted.

Walk on air against your better judgement

Walk on air against your better judgement

- Seamus Heaney

First woman appointed Archbishop of Canterbury

Congratulations and God’s blessing to the newly appointed Archbishop of Canterbury Sarah Mullally.

Bishop Mullally's maiden name is Sarah Bowser. It means her husband must bring the Irish touch to her family. His name is Eamonn Mullally.

She comes to the job with a fine cv.

Germany celebrates thirty years of unification

Germany celebrates 30 years of unification today.

To mark the event German chancellor Friedrich Metz spoke at an event in Saarland. Also speaking in the State’s capital, Saabrücken was French president Emmanuel Macron, who spoke in German, acknowledging the strong friendship between Germany and France.

NY Sisters question Archbishop Dolan on Kirk statement

NY Catholic sisters challenge Cardinal Dolan's praise for Charlie Kirk

Source: Global Sisters Report
https://share.google/mWPmqT8PG7Y4sgHT2

Catherine Connolly’s 1930s’ parallels is beyond absurd

Presidential candidate Catherine Connolly’s comments about Germany’s current military spending having "some parallels with the ’30s" is outrageous, indeed despicable.

Yes, there has been a seismic change in German defence policy and the Düsseldorf armaments company Rheinmetall’s shares have jumped 17 times since the outbreak of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

It is a cruel reality that war makes money for wealthy and powerful people.

But to attempt to make the slightest comparison between Germany’s current expenditure on weapons with what the Hitler government did is absurd, dishonest, cheap too.

The Germany of the 1930s built weapons to attack; it committed unspeakable crimes.

The current German government is supplying arms to Ukraine in order to repel the Russian invader.

Yes, it is a highly emotive topic; these days are the anniversary of what happened at Babi Yar, where  Ukrainians supported the Germans in murdering people of the Jewish faith.

It is supreme irony that German tanks are rolling again in Ukraine but this time in defence of the people.

History is never easy. For Catherine Connolly to make any reference hinting at parallels  between Germany’s invasion of Ukraine in World War II and how the Federal Republic of Germany is now supporting, in a limited way, Ukraine in its fight against Russia crosses a red line.

Words matter.

Since the creation of the Federal Republic of Germany in 1949 no country has done more to support countries in need. 

To make the slightest comparison between the current German government and the German government of the 1930s is abominable.

If Catherine Connolly wants to point any fingers at Germany, she might well point a finger at the AfD and how it has "some parallels with the ’30s”.

Technology is causing us to lose the run of ourselves

This week’s column in The Kerryman newspaper.

Michael Commane

Over the last few weeks there has been talk in the media about the misbehaviour of people in public.

A woman in her mid-80s described on RTE’s Liveline how on a crowded bus no one stood up to offer her a seat. Though dare I, from my own experience, comment that I often see older people behaving in an aggressive and entitled manner.

Some weeks ago journalist Justine McCarthy wrote in her weekly column in The Irish Times on how as a nation being rude is the latest trend in town. She argued that because of automation there is less need for us to engage with one another in our daily lives. How right she is.

When I first saw a self-service checkout in a supermarket I was surprised. Guess what, these days when buying my groceries I head automatically to the self-service checkout. And really that’s something of a contradiction for me. 

Automation means we have no verbal interaction with anyone in the shop and today most self-service checkouts don’t accept cash, which means we don’t get to feel, see or touch the money that pays for our purchase.

Most businesses now use automatic telephone answering; it’s even used by pharmacies and GPs. 

Again, no real human interaction. And if we have the patience to wait on the phone, three, four, maybe even 10 minutes to speak to a human voice, we are at that stage irritated and frustrated, so it is easy for us to launch into an attack on the unfortunate person with whom we eventually speak.

Last week I called Luas to report a school bag I found at a tram stop. After three attempts and zillions of automated replies I managed to speak to a human voice, but it was not Luas, it was Transport for Ireland.

I discovered in order to get through to any transport company, your call is directed firstly to Transport for Ireland. What nonsense.

It seems it’s not economical for us to talk to real people when we want to engage with most services today. That means we are losing the naturalness and spontaneity in ordinary, everyday conversation.

We are now using phones from dawn to dusk. And that really struck me last week when I saw an adult, presumably a parent, with two young children, talking on the phone and not a word between them and their children.

One day cycling on a busy street in Dublin, half in jest, half seriously, I rang my bell at a man who was walking across the street looking in the other direction. As soon as he saw me he shouted: ‘F-off’.

Last Thursday evening RTE’s Prime Time reported on the dramatic increase in antisocial behaviour across the country. We saw shocking incidences of vandalism. There was a call for more gardaí on our streets, experts were tracing the increasing bad behaviour back to the Covid crisis.

Might it be that because of our great strides in technology we are losing some of the most important characteristics of what it means to be human?

It seems we are constantly on the edge of being frustrated, which can easily lead us to lashing out.

Meanwhile, here is simply no excuse for such hostility and rudeness as displayed at the Ryder Cup in New York last weekend.

Speak to people with a kind word.