Chan eil Alba nas fheàrr na dùthchannan eile. Chan eil seo an dùthaich as fheàrr san t-saoghal. ‘S e seo na h-Alba, ar dachaigh, agus an aon dachaigh a tha againn.
This little man’s bible, his instrument of hatred and torture, his upside-down roadmap to hellfire, was the word of his god. No doubt his slavery to it already had him living a bleak and dismal living hell, and he is to be pitied for that.
Looking over the window Nativities of Dublin it was interesting to see what was variable within these acceptable norms and what was not. One of the most beautiful – in my opinion – was a gorgeous little pottery Nativity of caricatured Native North Americans. Indeed the birth of God in humanity was and is for all humanity, but it was amusing to see that this infant retained his northern European hair colour.
'Blessed are you who are poor' is by no means gratitude for the cruelty and injustice of poverty, but a thanks to God that God has never ignored the suffering of the poor, but has come to be among them, and stand with them for justice and restitution.
Actually, when we take the time to read what they’ve been reading to us in church for two millennia we find that the script doesn’t match the performance; Christianity is meant to be a wee bit mental.
Who am I to pick faults with a saint? I never had the pleasure of meeting Alphonus Maria de’ Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorists. He was a bit before my time (1696 – 1787), but I was an altar server in a parish very much influenced by his spirituality, especially during the season of … Continue reading Grant That I May Love Thee Always