This week's column in The Kerryman newspaper.
Michael Commane
On Thursday a young woman with two children passed me on the street; I imagine the children were both under five. Their mother was engaged in chit chat with them. As I passed them I said to myself, there she is talking baby talk to her children but nevertheless, real words.
Two days later a family of six were descending on a lifelong friend of mine; his daughter, her husband and their four children were coming to Kerry to spend a few days with him. He had bought a tent for the children and the plan was they would construct it and then sleep in it for two nights. The children range in age from eight to 15.
The making of the tent was great fun, laughing and joking and maybe even a little bit of crying too. But they got the job done. Slept in it the first night but the second night the younger two abandoned ship as it was too cold.
Little eight-year-old Rory wanted to know why they did not have heating in it. It was all great fun and of course a lot of child talk went on between adults and children. It’s part of nature, indeed, part of the fun of nature.
The previous Sunday I was at lunch with a small group of people. All of them had been to Mass earlier that day. They are not priests but are chaplains. I forget how, but for sometime we spoke about our faith, what it meant to believe in God. At one stage someone asked the question how was Christ present in the Eucharist. Surely Christ is not present in the Eucharist the way we were sitting at the table. During that discussion someone referred to the Eucharist as Holy Bread.
It was interesting what we all had to say; someone asked about how we interpret the readings at Mass.
The discussion wandered off to talk about organised religion versus spirituality. It was interesting how we all had differing views and opinions. I came away from the discussion impressed, asking myself many questions.
Between the mother talking to her children, the tent builders, and my lunchtime chat I was struck how important it is to make ourselves understandable to one another; to be real with each other.
It has often struck me in the company of priests how seldom it is we talk openly and honestly with each other; a lot of game playing goes on. Far too often we are slow to speak our minds; so much shadow boxing takes place. What priest ever speaks his mind to his bishop or provincial?
We are experts on clerical gossip, but I have seldom if ever heard a conversation on the Eucharist or what it means to say there are three persons in the one God. I often wonder what actually do we share with each other.
A friend has pointed out to me that’s the way of the world; it’s not only priests who do not speak their minds. True, but I think priests have it down to a fine art form.
On the other hand I am blessed to have some close priest friends with whom I can speak my mind.
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