Jean's Journal: A broken new year's resolution

by Jean Farrell

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to stop writing about religion.

However, I have just been listening to Garry Hynes speaking on the radio. What she had to say was so interesting that I’ll share it with you - before I cease writing about The Catholic Church!

Born in 1953, Garry Hynes was one of the founder members of The Druid Theatre in Galway.

She commented on how dull and dreary our lives were, growing up in 1950s Ireland. She pointed out that the Catholic Church provided us with much pageantry and pomp.

Garry Hynes’s first choice of songs was ‘Tantum Ergo.’ She said that every girl, educated by nuns, will remember Benediction. ‘O Salutaris Hostia’ was the other hymn sung during this ceremony.

Her interest in theatre began when she attended Benediction. It was the drama of it all that appealed to her greatly! She said that it was a pure theatrical performance! It was!

And what glorious ‘theatres’ our magnificent churches were. What stunning costumes the priests wore. The colour of their ornate vestments depended on the liturgical seasons. These might be golden, purple or black. The various ceremonies were full of richness and ritual. Think of High Masses, the Holy Week ceremonies and the annual procession.

For Benediction the priest first wore an alb, which was a long white robe. Over this he put on a colourful cope. A cope was a large cape-like cloak that flowed from his shoulders down to his feet. It was open at the front and fastened at the chest.

When he raised the golden monstrance to give us God’s blessing, he wore an additional short cape, called a humeral veil. This covered his shoulders. It also covered his hands when he raised the magnificent golden monstrance to bless us.

The many candles on the altar and the lovely Latin hymns added to the drama. All our senses were assailed during Benediction, especially our sense of smell.

I bet any man reading this, who was once an altar boy, remembers their role. Google tells me that, “Altar boys prepared and maintained the charcoal and incense in the thurible, which was used during Benediction. The incense is made from a blend of frankincense and myrrh.” I didn’t know that!

Us mere females could only watch the boys performing this important role. I particularly envied them the job of extinguishing the high candles with a long snuffer or douter.

The following thought never occurred to me before. As little children, we watched the young lads in our neighbourhood play football with our brothers. They’d be clad in hand-knit jumpers, short trousers and heavy boots.

A couple of hours later, we’d see these same young boys on the altar. They’d be wearing a long red or black dress, called a cassock. Over this the boys would be wearing another dress called a surplice. The surplice was shorter. It was white with lace trimming and had wide sleeves. How is it that we made no wonder of that at the time? Did the boys mind changing into such ‘costumes?’

I actually think that all this pomp and ceremony went over our young heads completely. However, remember that we unconsciously absorb all the memories from our childhood, and they colour the rest of our lives.

It was different times, back then, with different attitudes. The generations before us had a very deep faith.

I thought of their deep faith when a reader told me about her father. If his tractor wouldn’t start, he came into their kitchen for the bottle of Knock Holy Water. He sprinkled it all over the engine. She can’t remember the outcome! I wrote before about the farmer’s wife who tied scapulars around the cows’ horns to prevent them from getting tuberculous. Such faith!

In many cases their lives were so difficult that their only hope of happiness was to get to Heaven. Religion was the opium of the people in the past. Now its football, drugs and Netflix, as well as access to the whole world on our phones.

One friend’s granny used to take old magazines to the local hospital. Before she did so, she would cut out anything that she thought might be an ‘occasion of sin’ for the elderly patients. Pictures advertising bras or photos of low-cut dresses were removed. My friend asked her how she decided which pages to cut out. Granny’s answer was, “I discussed it with The Sacred Heart.”

Over the Christmas, my sister visited a woman aged 102. The old woman lives with her granddaughter. “God has forgotten me,” she announced, as my sister went into the bedroom. Every wall there was covered in memoriam cards. These were hanging on with the aid of yellow sellotape. Using her walking stick, the old woman pointed to each one in turn and told my sister their life stories.

“I know that most of them are in Heaven,” she assured my sister. She’s waiting, very impatiently, to join them there. And, such is her absolute faith, she is certain sure that she, shortly, will be in Heaven too.

Mustn’t it be great to have such faith?

I began this article saying I would not write about religion anymore. My resolution didn’t last long!

It was listening to Garry Hynes on the radio that reminded me just how deeply religion was ingrained into our upbringing. Whatever our beliefs are nowadays, we have an emotional attachment to the Catholic Church. I’m sure you will agree.

The prayer, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief,” is one I often say.

jeanfarrell@live.ie