Tag: christianity

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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Excerpt

“Are you forgetting, Father, some of us might still like to find a way to get home?”
Finten had not forgotten about Éirinn and Derry and his home monastery, but
the fear of crossing that wild ocean was more than he could bear. Nor could he
endure the threat of marauding Viking pirates and slavery. “No, Brother, I have not
forgotten.”
Finten lied. He had not listened to anyone else’s wishes but his own. His days had
been filled with new discoveries; attempts to tell the Natives about the Christian God
had been unsuccessful.
“Brother Keallach, we have sworn to God, as missionaries, to spread the Gospel
and baptize. We must move on.”
“May I suggest, Father, missionary work takes great patience, and prayer. Perhaps
we are lacking in both.”
With that, Keallach hurried off to join the Native children in a game of ball.
Finten approached Fire Maker with the proposal that he and his companions
travel to the Mandan Nation. Fire Maker did not appear enthusiastic to have Finten’s
company.
“A man only makes such a journey once or twice in his lifetime. The journey to
my land might last five or six seasons. You will meet warriors on the way who will
not always be friendly. Some will threaten to take your life. They might succeed in
doing so.”
Fire Maker paused for Finten’s reaction. When there was none, he continued. “Are
you able to walk over mountains and through snow and cold water? If you are able
to keep up from sunrise every day until the sun goes to bed, then you might join us.
If you get tired or sick, we will leave you behind.”
“My God has brought me this far. He wishes me to travel farther, even five
seasons.”
Fire Maker shook his head but Finten had made up his mind and would not be
deterred.
The priest pondered informing the Brothers of his decision. What if they argued
to stay where they were? Would they even refuse to go with him? He decided to wait.
He’d tell them when the time came.
When winter turned to spring, Fire Maker and his daughter Yamka prepared to
leave. Rordan, Ula and Yamka began to talk of ways that they could remain together.
Rordan had grown more attached to Yamka than he’d ever wanted to admit. Ula
was like a sister to him but Yamka was so much more. Only when he faced the prospect
of her leaving did he begin to realize how much he couldn’t stand the thought
of losing her.
It was time to make a momentous decision. He had to inform Father Finten and
Brothers Keallach and Ailan that he was in love with Fire Maker’s daughter. Worse
still, he had to tell Ula. But of course, Ula already knew. How could she not? But then,
he had not even told Yamka. He’d only realized the truth when Yamka told him she
and her father would soon be leaving.

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The Unquiet land

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“Beware of pride, Caitlin,” Padraig admonished. “‘Pride goeth before destruction.’ Learn another lesson from your father. He was a proud man. He sought self-sufficiency and in doing so displayed spiritual pride, what the Greeks called hubris. They warned—and no one knew this better than Finn MacLir—that hubris was certain to attract the gods’ disfavour. Hubris is the sin of sins, the primal cause of sin. It consists in man’s belief that he can lift himself to the level of the divine. Beware of that, Caitlin. Only by recognising our complete worthlessness can we find salvation, entirely through God’s grace.”
Caitlin looked steadfastly at Padraig. Then she said slowly, as if weighing her words, “If you thought you could ever win my father to Christianity with a message like that—recognising our complete worthlessness—you must be very, very stupid, Padraig. No wonder my father had nothing but utter contempt for your beliefs.”
Caitlin could see from the narrowing of Padraig’s eyes and the tightening of the muscles in his jaw that her words had hurt him; but she was relentless. “He scorned your God, Padraig. He scorned all the gods. You call it hubris, the sin of sins. Finn MacLir was guilty of it, blatantly guilty. Yet he defied the gods to the very end. And even in the clutches of death they could not break his spirit. He was a man, Padraig, a proud man, and proud to be man. And I am proud to have been his daughter.”
Caitlin rose angrily, strode out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
҂
She brushed the small heap of dust into a shovel and tossed it outside through the door of the cottage. The cool evening breeze whirled it away towards the stone wall by the head of the loaney. Michael would soon be coming up the loaney from the house, and Caitlin looked for the big, familiar figure, his shoulders almost as wide as the rough path between the walls, his hair almost as yellow as the flowers on the whins. But he did not appear. He had gone to the village to talk business with Joe Carney, the skipper of Finn’s fishing boat, the Drumard Maid. Michael wanted to sell the boat, and Joe wanted to buy. Perhaps they had made a deal and gone to the Harbour Bar to seal it.
Caitlin’s gaze shifted from the shadowed loaney to the direction of the harbour at Corrymore, far below her, and the ruins of Killyshannagh Church. Below the green sod and the dark earth down there, unseen from…

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Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

Anton felt as if he was sitting on burning charcoals since
he still didn’t know what to do with Dylan’s diary. Two days
had passed since the killing of Father Thomas and things in the
School had almost returned to normalcy except for the ones
who knew certain things others didn’t know. Anton’s wonder
was mostly based on his perception of what a Christian should be
and how a Christian should behave and the church people who
should always discern between good and evil and should always,
as was expected of them, choose good, and follow good, and do
good, which stood opposite what had transpired within the walls
of the mausoleum. This was Anton’s most basic wonder why these
atrocities and abuses had to occur in such a place and under the
authority of the most powerful Christian entity of the country.
Yet he also knew that people are always people and they always
behave in such an unjustifiable way and a person with common
sense feels so disappointed by such behavior.
Anton had his supper with his parents. His dad, discerning
certain emotional stress on his son during their supper and after
he sat by the window he called him to come and sit close to him.
“What is it that bothers you son?”
“I’m puzzled. I don’t know what to do with the diary. The
old man said I’d do what is best, but what’s that best?” Anton
replied.
His father looked at his son’s eyes, seeing the uncertainty
that was surely obvious and since he wanted to calm him down,
undoubtedly that was his concern at this moment, he said, “perhaps
you could let it be and trust that your heart will give you
guidance soon” to which Anton smiled, his father would always
say something vague and philosophical which eventually, on
second thought, would make sense. For this he didn’t ask anything
else but he got up saying…

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Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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excerpt

Fears and Frustrations


Brother Keallach was a good listener when Rordan needed to vent his frustration
and Rordan definitely needed to talk now.
“I just cannot understand why Father Finten has such a distrust of my interest in
medicine. Well, perhaps I do know why. Father Gofraidh was the same.
“I travelled for two years with a physician before coming to the monastery. In
my travels, I met many good doctors who had studied with the Moors. But because
those healers were not Christian, their works were forbidden. ‘What is not of God is
of the devil,’ Father Gofraidh preached to his novices.”
Rordan whipped at branches as the Brothers walked. “The Moors have a wonderful
knowledge of medicine and mathematics and astronomy. But do not tell this to
the Church Fathers. Only by chance was I able to learn the little I know about herbal
medicines from an ancient Italian monk who had learned his craft from a healing
woman in Italy. The healing woman was later condemned as a witch and put to
death. Can you believe that? Put to death for helping people. Corn Mother knows
more about herbs and medicines than anyone I have ever met in all my travels. And
Finten does not want me to associate with her.”
Rordan grew more agitated as he walked faster until Brother Keallach had to stop
to catch his breath. Rordan stopped and turned to face his companion but continued
speaking even as Keallach held his chest and breathed like a bellows.
“Because of this mistrust, the knowledge we have is hidden away and forbidden.
Did you know, Brother, the Church in Éirinn has more learning locked up in monasteries
than anywhere else in Christendom yet illness is still regarded as being caused
by sin? Even babies are only allowed healing by prayer. I believe in prayer, but this is
cruelty. It’s ridiculous; bloody ridiculous.”
Rordan picked up a small rock and threw it forcefully into a high arc. Then he
continued striding.
“An infected throat or a bad cough has to be treated with blessed candles and
prayers to Saint Blaise. Saint Roch is invoked to cure the plague. Saint Nicaise does a
poor job of protecting against smallpox, and kings are called upon to cure skin diseases
with the Royal Touch, so commoners are seldom healed of shingles or leprosy.”
Rordan stopped and sat on an ancient tree limb. His companion, thankful for the
pause, plopped down beside him.
“Despite all the knowledge available in our monasteries, monks are still forbidden
to perform any kind of surgery. Cutting into the ‘temple of the Holy Spirit’ is a sin of
murder. In the words of the late Father Gofraidh, ‘Surgery of any kind imperils the
souls of both surgeon and patient.’ So barbers and charlatans cut people open for
profit because real physicians are forbidden by Church hierarchy.”
Rordan put his hands on his head, exhausted from his outburst.

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Arrows

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That was just like Infante, to find a way to turn the tables. So I was
being accused of insensitivity, failing to honour the memory of my
slain friend.
“Exactly what I was trying to do when you interrupted me,
Infante,” answered Losada.
“It is not the place of Friar Salvador to decide the security of this
city,” Infante said. “That is my job. I am sure, Friar, you would take
equal offence if I was to start leading us in prayer.”
There was a good deal of chortling at this remark. I was appalled
by Losada’s lack of control. What was going on? Why did Losada
accept such a tone from his subordinate?
“Friar Salvador, please tell us why are you so sure they are
seeking peace and not our demise?” Losada said.
“I told you. Their morale has been shattered. I can assure you they
are convinced they cannot win. They want to secure the survival of
their people. Some have opted for peace. Others are staying away.”
“Where? Away where?”
“I told you I didn’t come here to lead you to their villages. I
couldn’t if I wanted to. I don’t know where they are.”
“But you know their language, I presume,” Infante intervened.
“I do.”
“I, in the captain’s boots,” Infante said, turning to the others,
“would interrogate the caciques with Friar Salvador’s aid to secure
the safety of the people in the city.”
A murmur of approval spread among the onlookers.
“I will do as I must, don Infante,” answered Losada, indicating
his leniency for insubordination still had its limits. I didn’t like
Infante’s obsequious tone or Losada’s conciliation to it. There was
something going on between the two.
“We are sure you will, don Diego,” Infante conceded. “Our lives
are in your hands.”
Infante bowed and the others followed. It was mockery rather
than respect. This bode ill.
I left Losada disappointed and afraid. Not one day among the
Spaniards, and already I smelled unshed blood.

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Constantine Cavafy

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If and Since He Had Died
“Where did he retire? Where did the Sage disappear to?
After his countless miracles,
and the fame of his teaching
that spread over so many nations
he suddenly hid, and no one learned
with certainty what happened to him
(nor has anyone ever seen his grave).
Some said that he died in Ephesus.
But Damis didn’t record it; nothing was written
by Damis about the death of Apollonios.
Others said that he vanished in Lindos.
Or perhaps the story
that he ascended in Crete is true,
at the sacred temple of Dictynna.
However, we have his exquisite,
supernatural appearance
to a young student in Tyana.
Perhaps the time has not come for him to return
and appear to the world again,
or perhaps he is roaming among us
incognito. But he will reappear
as he was, teaching the right things, and then of course
he will reestablish the worship of our gods,
and our refined Hellenic ceremonies.”
This was the way he mused in his poor house,
one of a few pagans,
one of the very few who remained
after reading Philostratos’
On Apollonios of Tyana—
In any case, an insignificant
and timid man, on the surface
he played the Christian, and he, too, went to church.
It was the era when in utmost piety
the king who reigned was the aged Ioustinos,
and Alexandria, a god-fearing city,
abhorred the miserable idolaters. On the Ship
Certainly, this small sketch,
in pencil resembles him.
Done rather fast, on the deck of the ship,
one enchanting afternoon.
The Ionian Pelagos all around us.
It resembles him. However, I recall him as handsome.
He was sensitive to the point of suffering,
and this lit his expression.
He appears even handsome to me
now that my soul recalls him out of Time.
Out of Time. All these things are old,
the drawing, the ship, and the afternoon.

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The Unquiet Land

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“For both of us, of course. And for Michael and Mother Ross.”
They had been standing in the main street. Now they began to walk slowly down the hill towards the square. Caitlin felt easier when Padraig could not look into her eyes and read the secrets there.
“Caitlin, I do not believe you can answer for your father anymore,” Padraig said. “A rift has opened between Finn MacLir and me that will be difficult to close. I was once like a son to him. I am a stranger now. And the love we used to share is all on my side.”
“Padraig, please don’t say that. Finn MacLir could never disown you. He’s not a vindictive man.”
“He’s a proud man. With a hatred of religion,” Padraig argued. “I represent religion. I preach the truth of God that Finn despises. As he denies God, he denies me. As he despises the truth of God he despises me.”
“You are taking everything much too personally, Padraig.” Caitlin felt herself becoming angry with the priest. She thought he was being unreasonable. “My father doesn’t despise you. He loves you, Padraig. In many ways he still regards you as the son he never had. You even more than Michael. There was a bond between you and my father that is still as strong as ever. He admires your achievement, Padraig. He gives you full credit for everything you have done. But he is disappointed that you chose to be a priest. You could have been a doctor, a lawyer, an accountant. You could have gone into any of a dozen different professions. But you entered the priesthood and you can’t expect a man like my father to be pleased about that.”
“I did not choose the priesthood, Caitlin,” Padraig said. “God chose me to be a priest. He has work for me to do. And I believe that part of that work is to save the soul of Finn MacLir. God sent Finn to save my life for Him. In return I must save the eternal life of Finn MacLir. God wants him, Caitlin. God is the good shepherd fretting over the loss of one sheep. He has sent me home here to bring that lost sheep to the fold.” Padraig grew excited. “That is my mission, Caitlin. To bring Finn MacLir to accept Christianity. And not Finn alone. I am hoping that you too will reaffirm your faith in God. You must, Caitlin. You cannot continue to live in darkness, in hopelessness.” A fanatic gleam shone in Padraig’s wild, dark eyes. “Could that be what is troubling you?”
They stopped again in the village square.
Caitlin realised that she was standing in Padraig’s shadow. It was a normal shadow, elongated by the lowering sun, but not monstrous, not threatening. Out of the shadow truth had come.

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The Unquiet Land

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“That ideal has died, Padraig. The light has gone out. It goes out for many of us, I’m afraid. Because it’s only an idea, not a reality. The Greeks first had the idea when civilization was young. Didn’t they believe in the human community as commonweal? Didn’t they tell us we were all free equals linked by a shared concern for the common good? Come on, Padraig, you know more about these things than I do.”
Padraig swallowed a mouthful of wine and thought for a moment. He wondered if he really did know more about these things than Finn. “You mustn’t overlook the Christian component of your humanitas, Finn: humanity as a moral ideal rather than a biological fact. From Christianity, not from Greece, comes that conviction you mentioned that human life has value. Man was created in God’s own image and was precious enough in the sight of God for God Himself to become man. This is what gives human life its value, Finn, and human life must be protected, must be saved at all cost and returned to God transmuted into spirit, pure and undefiled.”
“Another ideal.”
“Another aspect of the same ideal.”
“But equally unrealistic.” Finn leaned forward and held Padraig in the grip of his eyes as the Ancient Mariner held the wedding guest. “You are still young. The torch you hold aloft to light your way through life still burns with the fierce brightness that youth demands. You are just starting out. But as your journey proceeds and the day wears on, the idealism that fuels your torch burns lower. The light grows dimmer, Padraig, till you no longer see your way with clarity. And you stumble and fall. And every time you stumble or fall you spill some of the fuel you still have burning. And the light grows even dimmer. Long before midnight it’s all gone. And you can’t see your way anymore. You look back for some idea of where you were heading, and of course it’s all darkness there too. The light is gone. The darkness reveals the idealism for what it was: a figment of the human imagination, a fiction born of the unique human capacity for creative thought and nourished by the unique human need to believe.”
“It’s too pessimistic, Finn,” Padraig argued. “The light that guides us really burns; it really exists. You can keep it burning brightly right to the end if you have faith. Faith is the fuel, Finn. Pick up your torch again and find the faith to relight it and keep it burning. It will show you freedom, truth, justice, goodness. It will show you love. It will show you God.”
Finn smiled. “As I said, Padraig, you are young. You have a fire in your head and in your belly. I am old. My head is cool, and my belly …

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Savages and Beasts

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Yet the evil pouring out
of that entry shook him up as if a powerful tempest unlocks a
house off its foundations, such was the thunderous burden put on
his mind to comprehend the atrocity the details of which he read.
“Why, father? Why a man would end up doing these evil
things?” Anton asked.
“Most of these behaviours relate to the man’s psycho-spiritual
essence or level of human’s advancement but in this particular
case it all flows out of what these people who run the Residential
Schools believe, on what philosophical basis they have been
brought up, what values they have been taught in their schools,
and believe me, in the era we live in this country, the Anglos, still
live with the colonial era mentality. They still consider themselves
occupiers rather than co-existent people next to other
people they see themselves as the archon class and everyone else
down under them. That’s where all this misery springs from.”
“Dad, how could that be possible, we live in the 20ieth
century, this is an advanced country, this is not Africa,” Anton
resisted his dad’s negativity.
“Yes, son, it is true this is Canada, yet think of it seriously,
how did these evil things could ever occur? Where would their
origin be but in the colonial era mentality of the people? Because
when we supress we follow in the steps of tyrants who declare in
speech after speech their desire to bestow freedom to all and to
work for the betterment of people’s lives whereas they indulge
in self-deception and monologues which have themselves as the
only audience, satisfying themselves and their ideologies, whereas
when we reject suppressing others and accept others the way they
are we transcend deception and become true societal citizens.”
Anton said nothing. He felt his father was right. He felt
it in his heart and he only hoped that one day things might get

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Savages and Beasts

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For now, let us have our supper; come wife get the table
going,” he addressed his wife who was waiting for their word
before she put the table together.
They ate their supper in utter silence; each in their
thoughts: Anton’s mind ran to Mary and the light touch of her
body, which brought a faint smile on his face; his father’s mind
ran to the Indian Residential School and the monsters who have
managed it up to now and the church’s role in all this; Anton’s
mother’s mind ran to the peaceful retirement they might have
come time when her husband would make up his mind to put his
papers in; he wasn’t of excellent heath either and it was time for
him to take it easy, something he despised and always reminded
her that he had no hobbies, other than reading books, and retirement
could be a fast walk towards death; he had followed the
statistics which he had studied and which never lied, as he often
said to his wife, to be sure, most of his pals at work had died
within a year or two after retirement.
Silence the queen of the evening was still in control of
their house when they finished their supper; Anton’s father
took the diary and went to sit by the window. He opened it and
started reading the entries from the beginning. Anton helped
his mother with the dishes before he took his truck and drove
to Molly’s diner; he briefed Molly about Dylan’s heart attack.
Dylan’s buddy, Simon, the drunkard was there and said he was
so sorry Dylan had a heart attack and asked how serious it was;
Anton said to them it was serious enough to make the doctors
keep him there for the angiogram that was to be performed early
tomorrow. The drunkard shook his head in disbelief that all these
things were taking place and how could his buddy get out of this
calamity that struck him.

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