Category: Herb O’Driscoll

Going through what sometimes seem endless papers in my study, I recently came across something that I had lost for some years. Coming across it makes me realize that it speaks very eloquently today to something that has developed very strongly in church life in these challenging days we are living through.

Back in the 1970s Eugene Kennedy was a very gifted Priest/Psychologist who wrote insightfully about the nature of Christian faith and our understanding of it. Sometime around that period he wrote a piece on what it means to pray, or to promise to pray for another person. They may have asked us to pray for them because of some need and we may have promised that we would.

Many of us will have experienced problems with remaining faithful to such a promise sincerely meant at the time. But, as we know all too well, life is busy, other needs and requests come into our lives, we lose track of our friend or acquaintance, we ourselves may develop worrying needs that make difficult managing our prayer life. For all this we can sometimes feel regret and even guilt.

In the recent years of Covid the world of prayer came to assume a place in our lives it may not have had. There were friends we would not see for long periods. A card now and then, a phone call when thought of, a chat on FaceTime. Gatherings that we would once have taken for granted, church occasions, social interactions, all lessened. Often we regretted this loss of an intimacy we had long taken for granted.

During these same years however, there is something that has quietly become deeper and richer in church community. Prayer groups have long existed but in the Covid years a rather wonderful thing developed. Prayer groups became more numerous and more appreciated, and they remain so as time goes on.

This brings me back to the wonderful piece I recovered recently. What Eugene Kennedy gives eloquent expression to is the depth and substance of what we can mean when we promise to pray for one another. I hope many more of us become aware of this passage …

Eugene Kennedy writes “A change actually occurs between two people when one promises sincerely to pray for the other. The former has placed themselves in a new kind of relationship with the one to whom they have made the promise. They have committed themselves to the other’s world of personal concern. In other words, they have made themselves present to the one in need in a new and vital way.

Promising a prayer is not the same as making a mental note to say an Our Father at a later date. Neither is it some kind of imaginary benevolence comparable to a shouted “Good Luck” or “Bon Voyage”. It means that we have redefined ourselves in relationship to our friend or acquaintance, that we have enlarged the boundaries of ourselves in order to stand closer to the other at a time when that is exactly what they need.

A shift occurs when we cast the votes of our time, attention and prayers for another human being. We are, through the power of the spirit and the reality of our commitment, with them in a new and vitalizing way. In other words, the person who means it when they promise to pray for another has given something of themselves to that person. They communicate faith, hope and love, in a truly living way.”

I think this magnificent passage could be offered to any group of people who wish to have a kind of charter or foundation statement for their working together to pray for others.

Herbert O’Driscoll

Suggested Scripture: John 19: 25 – 20:10

It is a little after three in the afternoon on the hilltop. It is now some time since the last of the crucifed figures has stirred. At this point the centurion in charge of the execution moves towards the small squad who have worked this shift with him. The time has come to carry out what was considered to be a small act of mercy. It will at least bring the obscene process to an end.

In the case of the middle prisoner, long experience of these executions tells the centurion that he has been dead for some time. He signals for the legs of the two others to be broken.

Because the centurion is well aware that this is not an ordinary criminal execution, but that it also involves an element of politics, its possible he may at this stage have taken the opportunity to look around to see who had remained throughout the whole dreadful process. If he did so he would first become aware of a group of four, three of them women. He had noticed them there from the very beginning, three women and a young man. They were preparing to go, at least the three younger people were obviously trying to pursuade the older woman to come away. It was obvious that she was exhausted almost to the point of collapse.

If the centurion had looked further down the slope he would have seen a large group of women. If he had looked even further something unusual might have sparked his interest. Standing together, aloof from all others, were two men who, at least by the quality of their dress and the confidence of their bearing, were in some way official.

Some distance apart from the pair were other men moving about restlessly. They were obviously rural and rather unkempt. From his various periods of army service around the country the centurion mentally pegged them as Galilean. The interesting thing he noticed was that, while they paced about restlessly, they seemed reluctant to gather as a group, as if they did not want to be noticed as such. He made a mental note to report this to his superior when he made his overall report on the executions of the afternoon.

He gave his men the signal to begin clearing the hill, At this point one of the two official looking spectators came towards him, handed him a document that gave official permission for the body of the prisoner on the middle cross for cleansing and burial. The centurion offered his men to help but the Jewish official said that others who had not yet left the hill would respond to his request for assistance. The centurion realized that the Galilean group he had noticed was already gathering to assist. As he watched them he could not help noting the care and tenderness with which they went about the task. Obviously this had been carefully planned.

The two officials gave directions, the Galilean group of men did the actual removal, then the women were called to the body, which they swiftly wrapped before returning it to be carried away.

The centurion looked again at the sheet giving permission from the Procurator for all this to take place. He noticed that one of the Jewish officials had arranged for the body to be placed in a private tomb on his estate. By now he and his men were alone on the hill. Glad that his day’s duty was over, the centurian dismissed the men, walked to his waiting horse, and left to begin writing his report while it was still vivid in his mind.

What that long ago centurion would not report , because he was not even dimly arare of it, was that, while he had most certainly witnessed a death, he had also witnessed the birth of something that would in a comparatively short time not only affect the vast empire he served but would spread to lands and peoples of whom neither he nor any other living person at that time was even aware of. He had been present at the birth of christian faith.

When we as inheritors of a 2000 year christian tradition come to consider the scene on that long ago hill, we can see that even in the very first hours after Jesus’ death, even before anyone is thinking of resurrection as anything other than a desperate hope, a community of believers has already emerged! Why is this important?

For over that two thousand years we Christians continue try to pierce the mystery we call Resurrection. As we do so, we can easily miss the fact that whatever it means to say that Jesus rose from the tomb, something else rose from the events of that long ago day, something we can instantly and clearly understand.

That something is who we are, the Christian community. We are the people on the hill. (words 836)

Now there stood by the Cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.

When the young Roman guard asked them to keep back from the area she noticed that he was little more than a boy. The thought occurred to her that he must feel vulnerable at such moments as this. Around them milled a crowd, among them friends and family of the condemned, some half crazed with grief. If the prisoner was political there was the possibility of a rescue attempt, especially in the early stages of the crucifixion process.

She had arrived in Bethany too late to meet him before he had left for the city with his followers. She felt a passing twinge of resentment but she put it aside. By this time she had become used to being second to the demands of what he regarded as his ministry. As she tried to get some rest she had heard the visitors coming and going in the house, but she knew she was being allowed to rest because there was no good news to tell her.

Very late at night they woke her to let her know that he had been taken. As the young man told her of the impending trial, she knew that he was deliberately refraining from telling her of the possibility of execution. To her own surprise she found herself comforting him. When he asked her what she wished to do when the time came she said calmly that she wished to go to wherever her son would be. Again she tried to get some sleep.

In the early morning she left with her sister and the young woman from Magdale whom she barely knew. As she walked the last few hundred yards towards the area where the crosses stood in the ground, they seemed to grow in height. When she was close enough to see features she forced herself to look. She was glad of an arm supporting her.

At first a wild hope grasped her that it was not her son at all. The body was revealed in total degradation and defilement. She found herself thinking that it was no worse than countless others had suffered. Like most people she had always avoided any acquaintance with the obscene process of crucifixion.

As the young Roman guard ordered them to keep their distance, they shuffled back some yards. She looked across the filthy ground between them and the crosses. It occurred to her that all her life she had been distanced from her son. Even when she and Joseph had taken him as child to the temple she had had to look across a barrier as the priest took the baby and later returned him. Almost always it was across barriers and walls and chasms and crowds that their relationship had been conducted and their elusive love communicated. Of one thing she was certain, that he had loved her. Even if they had not often spoken it, she knew it to be real and lasting.

Someone told them how long it had been since the execution had begun. It now looked as if the end was not far off. By now the front of the crowd had inched forward again. She was aware with mingled terror and joy that he had opened his eyes and seemed to have seen them. She could see his lips moving, trying to form some word. Careless now of any restraint she moved forward to try to catch the sound.

When the whispered croaking sank to silence she moved back. In that moment, by the whispered statement of her dying son, this young man who had joined them and now stood beside her, had now become her son and she his mother. This evidence of her own son’s concern for her, even in his extreme agony, was for her a mingling of pain and appreciation.

With the help of her sister and of the young woman from Magdala who had come with them, she began to move away. She never heard the terrible cry of desolation that took all but his last breath.

An hour or so later a Roman lance pierced his side. If she had seen it she might have recalled the old man Simeon tenderly returning her newborn son to her arms in the temple all those years ago. She might have remembered his looking at her intently as he spoke very quietly. “One day” he had said, “a sword will piece your heart”.

One day…To a new young mother it had sounded so far in the future, and anyweay she had had no idea what the old man meant.

As they came down the hill she would have fallen on the treacherous path, had not her sister and the young woman of Magdala supported her.

Scripture for reflection: The Book of Esther

We are surrounded by dazzling power. The Persian empire is at its height, one hundred and twenty seven provinces from Ethiopia to India. At the centre of power is Ahasuerus, king in his capital at Susa.

The empire is celebrating a royal marriage. The emperor has chosen a bride. Esther, niece of a prominent Jewish leader named Mordecai, has been elevated to a position of immense influence.

Precisely at this moment Esther’s life becomes complicated by a threat to the Jewish community. A dangerous and powerful member of the court named Haman is determined to institute a pogrom that will have tragic consequences. To read Haman’s words to the king is to hear the chilling patterns of anti-Semitism down the centuries.

“There are a certain people scattered and separated in all the provinces of your kingdom. Their laws are different from those of every other people. They do not keep the king’s laws, so it is not appropriate for the king to tolerate them”. Only after this careful and nuanced statement does Haman lay bare his real intention in plain and brutal language. “If it please the king,” he continues, “let a decree be issued for their destruction”.

The king agrees, opening the way to the deaths of tens of thousands of people.

Mordecai desperately contacts his niece. Only she can get the king to rescind his decree. The request deeply distresses her. She has not revealed to the king that she is Jewish. Now she must choose between losing everything or remain silent while her people are destroyed.

Through a messenger Esther contacts her uncle. He responds by sending her the documents that Haman has written that condemn all Jews to death. Esther responds. Her reply is full of anxiety and helplessness. She cannot go to the king unless he summons her. Again Mordecai replies. His note is stern and adamant. Its language is chillingly modern, echoing many voices that spoke before and during Hitler’s holocaust.

“Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish”. Then, with unerring precision Mordechai pinpoints the heart of the matter for Esther. “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this”.

This magnificent message with its implied reference to Esther’s own integrity has the desired effect. Esther agrees to go to the king. She makes it clear that she has no illusions about the possible consequences. “I will go to the king”, she writes to her uncle, “even though it is against the law. If I perish, I perish.”

Three days later Esther makes her move. Dressing in the grandeur of her royal robes, she waits in a gallery where the king is likely to see her. Her plan succeeds. Esther does not bring up the subject of the pogrom at this point. Instead she asks that the king invite Haman to a banquet that is being planned. . During the banquet the king asks Esther the nature of her request. Without mentioning the king’s own decree she offers evidence for Haman’s hatred and treachery as the real reason for the threat to her people.

Hastily the king rescinds his decree, sending messages across the empire. Haman is summarily executed. Esther’s uncle Mordechai is given the royal signet ring that makes him a powerful figure at court.

In this long ago political struggle, scripture gives us a glimpse of a people struggling to survive. It also introduces us to a courageous and resourceful young woman who placed duty above personal gain, even above personal survival.

Herbert O’Driscoll

Scripture for reflection: Genesis 15 and Genesis 21, 1-7.

If you have experienced a panic attack you will know the feeling of desperation it can bring. A mild attack can make you feel you are losing control, a major one can make you feel that you are dying.
Continue reading “PANIC ATTACK”

Rome 60 A.D.

Scriptures for reflection: Mark 15:15 – 25

My dear sons,

Springtime in Rome is so incredibly beautiful . Warms the bones of an old man. Why this letter now? Because I want to set down, for my beloved grandchildren, the event that changed all our lives, now thirty years ago. You two know it well but, as I said, its for your children, Julia and Drusus, Agrippina and Simon. Continue reading “Letter From an Expatriate”

By Herb O’Driscoll

Place: Iona
Time: Spring 801 A.D.

Early in the sailing season of the year 801 A.D. small groups of Viking warships slid out of the harbours of Avaldsnes and Skiringsalr in southern Norway. One of those squadrons headed due west for the Orkneys, then sailed around the north coast of Scotland through the Hebrides and the Shetlands until they reached Iona. The other sailed southwest for Lindisfarne. As they terrorized the small coastal communities the news of their cruelty went ahead of them. Continue reading “Risking The Tide”

by Herbert O’Driscoll

Scriptures for Reading: Luke 1:39-56

Dearest Cousin Elizabeth,
I apologize for not sending this letter earlier. I was exhausted from the journey home and simply had to rest for the last few days.

I think about you and pray for you constantly because I know you were very near to giving birth when I had to leave. As you know, I had no choice when the caravan came through the village and told us there wouldn’t be another for nearly a month. However I could see that you had friends ready to help so I’m assuming my prayers for you have been answered. Continue reading “Letter from Nazareth”

Herbert O’Driscoll
January 2016

The compound where I worked before retirement is situated on a high mountain ridge in the western edge of the kingdom. In the distance on a clear day one can see the great gulf that is fed from the north by the Tigris and the Euphrates. Beyond the gulf to the west is the vast desert that stretches to the edge of Egypt, our ancestral enemy. Continue reading “The Star”

Herbert O’Driscoll
December 2016

In the living room of our house – from which all four children have long gone to live their chosen lives – fitting snugly into the bay window, there is an old pine dough box.

Continue reading “The Dough Box”