HUGH’S    DIARY

May 1

IONA

Off to Iona. The weather looks as though it is going to be reasonable.  The sun is shining already.

Why Iona?  In the 6^th Century St Columba set up a monastery or Columkille there.  He was a monk from a noble family in Northern Ireland.  He felt responsible for a war that had broken out over the copyright of a book, and so had gone into exile.  At first ;he went to the island of Islay further south, but on a clear day he could still see Ireland, so he moved further north to Iona to fulfil the terms of his exile.

Columba’s monastery was important for the spread of Christianity, not only in Scotland but the north of England through foundations like Lindisfarne.  Irish monks of the same tradition eventually went as missionaries into Europe and became patrons of places as far away as Italy. 

The Book of Kells, a famous illuminated copy of the Gospels which is displayed in Trinity College, Dublin, was created on Iona.  It was taken to Kells in Ireland for safe keeping during the Viking invasions.  Kells, a town about forty miles north-west of Dublin, is campaigning to get the book back.  Maybe they shouldn’t.

Iona is only a small island. You could walk round it in an afternoon.  Despite its remoteness, many of the kings and queens of Scotland were buried there, as was John Smith, the previous leader of the Labour Party almost exactly ten years ago.

The monastery fell into ruins, but it was still considered an important Christian site.  Leo Dehon, the founder of the Sacred Heart Fathers, visited here in the 1860s.  In the 1930s George MacLeod, a Church of Scotland minister, set about restoring the abbey and set up an ecumenical community.

About ten years ago a small Catholic house and chapel were built.  Much of the fund-raising was done by the mother of Princess Diana.  This caused quite a bit of controversy, even on the front pages of the London broadsheets.  Why are Catholics spoiling the ecumenical spirit of the island, asked the Telegraph.  But they didn’t mention that there were a couple of Anglican retreat houses here and a Church of Scotland parish.

People start meeting from 11.00 at Coopers Bar in the Central Station, Glasgow.  A few people pulled out this week, and a couple at the last minute, so we are down to 21.  Martin has managed to borrow a 15 seater minibus and there are two cars.  We set off for Oban.  One of the cars diverts to Glasgow Airport to pick up Michael and Dave who have just flown in from London.

The sun is still shining as we cross the Erskine Bridge and someone tells everyone to look left to see his birth place, Port Glasgow.  Loch Lomond is looking its bonniest.  Across the water we see the Youth Hostel at Rowardennar where we’ll be staying the second night of the West Highland Way in July.  Duncan and Veronica who have been arranging the walk at a distance meet today for the first time.  We get the chance to plan when to say Mass on the Sunday.

After a stop at Inverary we reach Oban in good time for the 4.00 ferry to Mull.  It is positively warm. 

There is less singing in the bus this year.  There is that phrase which implies that people can be ruined by wine, women and song.  My experience is that rarely do all three apply.  It is usually a choice of wine, women/men, or song.  I’m definitely song.  Not much ruination today.  “You’re on your own”, but it was Mary that started it.

On the boat I get talking to a couple also going to Iona who turn out to live a few hundred yards away from Dehon House where I lived until last summer. Did I hear last week that Dehon House had finally been sold?  I hope the Youth Clubs Trust can put the money to good use.  I had hoped some of it could have been put towards Project 2030, but the original deeds specify that the Trust is for a younger type of ‘youth’.

As we get off the boat Duncan is anxious to hear how Manchester City got on, but the radio reception is poor.  Eventually Radio 4 tells us that they won and should be safe.  They also mention that York have gone down.  Poor Mark.  No other scores, so I don’t know if Morton are still hanging on to promotion.  At one time in the season they were 19 points clear.  My brothers will have been at the match, but I can wait.

In the ticket office at Oban there is a BBC poster inviting people to ‘BLOGG’ on the smaller islands.  No doubt trying to create s community spirit, but also looking for good material from their web diaries.

Again the scenery is beautiful as we take the single track across Mull.  Most of us are staying in the B and B at Fionnphort, just across the sound from Iona.  We can see the monastery across the water.  As we get out the vehicles, the sun has disappeared and the sea breeze is beginning to have its vengeance.

Richard, Adam, Joseph and myself are staying at Caol-Ithe.  Carol offers us a cup of tea and we sit looking out at the rugged scenery.  The powerful telescope allows us to see people walking in the abbey grounds.  It is possible to stay in the centres on Iona, but they are booked up more than a year in advance.

Gradually everyone gravitates towards the Keel Row for something to eat.  Some climb the hill nearby to catch the sunset, then into the bar next door.  There is a pool table.  Richard could rightly claim to be the champion, but my vote goes to Veronica.  She beat me, but that’s the last time I give anyone advice on how to snooker me.

May 2

Joseph didn’t snore.  Well, not a lot.  The telescope gives a better view of the island in the morning light.  The hymn to morning prayer in the shorter edition of the Office is “St Patrick’s Breastplate”.  To think of the generations of monks inspired by those same words:

“I bind unto myself today

The power of God to hold and lead,

His eye to watch, his might to stay,

His ear to hearken to my need.”

At breakfast there is a film crew doing a programme for Channel 5 on the 10 best natural wonders of Britain.  They are going out to Staffa as well today.  Then they are off to St Kilda.  Their ears jump up when I say that my sister-in-law’s father, was one of the last people to live there before the island was evacuated in the 1930s.  They had been looking for someone who had lived there.  Unfortunately Mr McLean died a few years ago.

That connection with St Kilda has made me fascinated by the island.  In 1996 I looked after a parish in South Uist for a couple of weeks.  The parish priest tried to fix me up with the army to fly out to the island on one of their sorties, but it never came off.  But I was lucky enough on a clear day to have their high cliffs pointed out to me as a speck 30 miles out in the Atlantic.  The programme will be going out in August.

We catch the 10.00 ferry and walk the few minutes up to the Catholic House of Prayer for Mass.  Today is Good Shepherd Sunday.  The field behind me, outside the chapel, is full of sheep.  I’m trying to speak about the Gospel, but I can’t hear myself for the bleating of the sheep.  The farmer has just arrived to feed them, and they all go running across the field.  I struggle on when I’d be better letting the scene speak for itself.

After Mass we take the group photos and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Dave.  Some of us climb the hill behind the Abbey.  On the way back I resist joining in the games of the more energetic ones.  There’s barely time to buy a snack in the Spar before catching the boat for the hour long trip to Staffa.

The sea is choppier than expected, especially when the small boat packed with 60 people stops outside Fingal’s Cave.  We moor further round the coast.  Four of us are first off and we decide to walk round to the cave while it is quiet.  The others dally at the wishing seat.  So I manage to get three minutes alone at Fingal’s Cave before anyone else arrives.  When Wordsworth visited here in 1830 the noise and jostling just made him angry.  Only in my imagination can I hear the sounds of Mendelssohn’s famous overture as the waves lap against rocks that are similar to the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland.

Just as interesting on Staffa are the puffins.  On the cliff tops they are happy to waddle up to the humans because they know we’ll save them from being attacked by the seagulls.  People are surprised at how small they are.  We have over an hour on the island, so there is time to collect some shells and feathers.

On the way back the boat is thrown from side to side in the waves, and the water almost laps over the sides.  Some feel sick.  The sight of what looks like a life-boat following us offers a little consolation.  As we get off the boat I ask the man how he would rate the ride, on a scale of 1 to 10.  Only 2, he replied, or maybe 3.  Nothing really.

We’re late for our 5.30 evening prayer at the Chapel, but those who have gone exploring the south of Iona are later still.  But we can’t wait too long as the last ferry to Mull is 6.15.  Only now does the rain come on.  This does not deter our friendly seal who pops his head up again in the harbour to entertain us.

The Keel Row is busy again.  Not too many people can stay in the 30 houses and the 6 B and Bs in Fionnphort, but there are thousands come through to catch the short ferry across to the Isle of Columba.  After eats people meet in the bar.  No bagpipes this evening, but a variety of games like draughts and cards going on.

At snooker Veronica almost beats me again, then 10 of us play ‘killer’.  If you don’t pot a ball on three occasions you are out.  Liam pockets the cash.  Last night my £5 for the cues went to the locals who were last on the table.  Tonight it comes back to me.

When everyone is together we present Martin with a thank you card and bronze plaque.  He’s already talking about organizing next year.  There’s not many ways you could improve a winning formula.  Some would like to stay longer.  Maybe we could have an earlier start from Glasgow.  We sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Dave again, and give him a piece of Iona marble and picture of the Abbey.

At 11.00 someone suggests we go down to the pier and have a sing-song.  It’s far enough beyond the houses to disturb, but the wind is howling in off the Atlantic.  We discover that David has a champion Welsh tenor voice.  How many colds will there be in the morning?

May 3

SHEEP – MISSING BOATS – FLAT TYRE - GLASGOW

One last visit to Iona.   We catch the 8.45 ferry.  No seal to be seen.  A rainbow is over the Abbey, but it heralds rain, and we get our only real soaking of the weekend as we make our way up to the House of Prayer.

The Gospel is about the Good Shepherd again and the sheep and the lambs keep up their chorus of support.  Last year one of the readings on Iona had been about water and had fixed our attention more on the view of the sea from the chapel windows.

In John 10, the Good Shepherd proclaims that he has come so that we may have life and have it to the full.  After the Gospel I invite people to reflect why did Jesus come.  Non-Christians might find it strange that we claim to be living life to the full.  There are certain things a Catholic is not supposed to do.  But, do these things bring life to others?  Often they are the source of people’s unhappiness.

There are so many voices encouraging us to live life as a fool rather than to the full.  Among all these voices can we hear God leading us to life.  He is our creator.  He knows what is best for us.  He alone knows what it is all about.

On Staffa yesterday someone had reflected on the wonders of creation, when you see all the variety and beauty of life.  This led me to say then and reflect in the sermon that, while I find it easy to understand the response of agnostics who say “I don’t know” to the question of God, I find it more difficult to understand the atheist who believes there is no God. Atheists are usually very rational people, yet they are prepared to make that leap of faith to say they believe there is no superior being behind creation.  Theirs is a much higher level of faith than ours.  I can only admire their confidence but I cannot share it when so much evidence points to a loving and personal God.

That’s my sermon over for the day.  The sheep continue to serenade us and the young ones come back in chorus just in time for the ‘Lamb of God’.  Afterwards Sr Eileen invited those of us who were still around in for a cup of coffee.  She was interested in the group, and it turned out that she knew Ailish’s family.

As we were leaving Sister I embarrassed Martin by saying that I thought this had to be the best organised event we do.  (I’m actually writing this on the back of one of the many sheets he produced with not only information, but history and humour as well).  “Don’t be saying that in your diary”, he pleads.  Then we come out the Chapel door to see the ferry pulling out at 10.15 when we expected it to go at 10.30.  When is the next ferry?  Visions of missing planes and trains in the evening.  Fortunately the ferry came back straight away and we made it across by 11.00.  Humble as ever, Martin conceded: “Now you can put that in your diary.”

Just before we left Iona I went down to the beach to think of the first monks, spilling on to the sands.  I throw a few stones in the water for old times’ sake (for the sake of ould lang syne) and come across a wonderful scallop/clam shell.  My excitement was diminished when it was pointed out that they are fairly common – great for ash trays.

On the boat I found a quiet spot and looked back at the Abbey, wondering at the courage and commitment of the monks over a thousand years ago.  To the right is Martyrs’ Bay, where 60 had been killed by the Vikings, and yet the monks came back to be slaughtered again and again.  I remembered the priest I knew as a boy who was one of 30 Sacred Heart Fathers killed in the Congo in the 60s.  And how after that we sent out more missionaries to take their place, and when the troubles broke out again in the 90s they stayed on with the people.

The singing was better in the bus on the way back, though maybe not as good as the singing in India.  I still don’t know the words to ‘The Fields of Atherry’, but I’ve learned how to do a dramatic silence in the middle of ‘where in purple hue, the highland hills we view’.  The singing was brought to a stop by a flat tyre in Patricia’s car.  We lost Duncan to the changing squad, as the van kept going in case we missed the ferry from Mull.  There is a rumour that someone set about changing the wrong tyre.  They made it in time.

The boat to Oban takes less than an hour.  After some steak pie I find a lounge seat.  The sleep doesn’t come.  I reflect how Leo Dehon made the journey by rowing boat in 1863.  It was supposed to take a couple of hours, but the weather turned nasty and they were seven hours battling against the waves through the night.  He was the only one of his friends to take a turn at the oars.  When they made the nearest land they still had to walk two hours to Oban.

We stop at the Drovers’ Inn at the top of Loch Lomond for something to eat.  This is where the cattle men stopped on the way to market centuries ago.  It still looks the same inside, intentionally or not I’m not sure.  The place is too busy with Bank Holiday makers for us to get any grub.  Tourists!  Veronica takes the opportunity to pay the deposit for the night we will be spending here on the West Highland Way in July.

We press on.  Just as well as the traffic further south gets bad.  We make it to the airport in time.  As yet I don’t know if Richard and Michael made it for their train to London.  Michael R offers to do the email account of the weekend.

Those of us who are left go for something to eat.  It’s just a quick sponge pudding for me, before heading to where the 30s are having an introductory for the Echoes/Maryvale course they are going to follow in Catechetics.

I give Emma’s apologies for not managing after Iona.  The Glasgow 30s started independently as the other 30s groups were starting, but they still enjoy coming to Malpas and other main events.  There was talk about asking me to become chaplain when Fr Joe, their founder, was made a parish priest, but he was there tonight to explain that he can still keep his involvement with the group.

The printed sheets for the group were very good, and made me think how we are called to be witnesses and echoes of Christ.  Ailish does her bit and explains to me that Leo, her husband of a year, and who used to do the newsletter for the North West 30s, hasn’t made it tonight because he has to get a dissertation finished by tomorrow.  

May 4

SMITHSTONE HOUSE – KILWINNING – LUNAR ECLIPSE

I stayed overnight in our community’s house at Smithstone near Kilwinning, as there is a meeting of some of our priests here today.    My first year after ordination in 1976 was spent here helping in the then small Junior House for teenagers who wanted to be priests, and acting as chaplain to the local secondary school they attended.

Then I was here again for five years in the 80s as the place developed into a House of Prayer.  The last two years were as Novice Master, looking after the spiritual year which candidates for the Religious Life must do before they take their first vows.

I always enjoy coming back.  It’s just outside the town, in its own grounds.  It can take small residential groups, up to 15 beds, and would be ideal for the groups in Scotland, yet somehow our efforts to use the house have never really worked.  The groups in the North West have benefited from Malpas, Dehon House and Stella Maris.  In Dublin we have used the houses in Inchicore and the parish in Artane.  Smithstone House would be ideal for having a place to call our own.  Maybe some day it will work.

In August, some of the European visitors going to Malpas will come here the weekend after.  We’ll organise a barbecue for them one evening.  But will people from the groups travel down to deepest Ayrshire, even though it is only 30 minutes by train from Glasgow?

The meeting doesn’t start until the afternoon after Mass, so there is time to reply to the emails, do yesterday’s diary and print out some of this web diary to ask the advice of priests at the meeting before it is launched.  The web counter is up and running.  Soon will the truth be known.  It used to be money that kept the world going round, now it is hits.

But I have a cunning plan.  We’ll keep mentioning how few hits we are getting on the web page.  People will pay it a visit just to see how bad things are, and then we will get a hit every time they come on. Even Blackadder would be proud of that.

In the afternoon I walk into town to the nearest post box.  I’m going to have to do more of this, much more, before the West Highland Way in July.  On the road back I start thinking up silly limericks like we did in the bus yesterday.  Is there no escape?  This is the best I come up with:

There was a group went to Iona. 

Among them there wasn’t one moaner.

The waves were high,

But we kept ourselves dry,

-         a whale of a time, unlike Jonah.

Limericks – a good ice breaker.  Should I do one a day?  Maybe not.

Before the meeting there was time for a quick circuit of the kilometre long path that goes round the edges of the grounds.  I can imagine how the school group that was here today must have enjoyed exploring the woods.  I forgot that there is supposed to be a panther running wild in this area.  At least I didn’t get bombed by a crow like Fr Paul.  The bluebells were at their best.

At the meeting there is Fr Con and Fr Paul from Smithstone and Fr John from Dublin.  The Provincial, Fr Michael, could not make it.  After we break up for the evening we have Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament for half and hour, as is our custom.  Fr Stephen, who was not at the meeting, is a natural cook, so we enjoy our tea.  For an hour after the meal we sit on at the table discussing the pros and cons of the film ‘The Passion of Christ’.  Strangely, the film was one of the reasons behind starting this web diary.  A lot of people asked me what I thought about Mel Gibson’s production and would I recommend it (which I would).   Should I write an email to the group?  But maybe there are too many emails being sent out already.  If I kept a blog, those who wanted could check up to see what I was thinking.  And the rest is…Grammar, if not Literature!

At the end of the 10 0’clock news we are reminded that there is still a lunar eclipse going on.  From the window the sky looks cloudy, but there are a few stars around, enough to entice me out into the rain.  If the sun has disappeared to the north-west, the moon must be low to the south-east.  There are too many trees around, so I take the road towards the town.  Gradually the rain eases and the moon begins to penetrate the cloud.  Eventually it appears.  At this stage the eclipse is just partial, but enough to make the walk worthwhile.

The working of the universe if eternally fascinating.  Some people find it boring, and true, the merest yawn of yours or mine is a trillion times more significant cosmologically in God’s plan of evolution than simple shadows caused by the juxtaposition of a planet and its moon.  On the way back I hear a rustling in the hedgerow.  Is that the panther on the loose?  Is that a howling on the horizon?

When I get back to the house the moon has still got its hat on.  I cause consternation by going into the sitting room and switching off the lights and the television.  Ecce luna.  I don’t need to explain myself.  Our satellite is visible outside the large bay window.  And I’m forgiven even though they miss the end of an interesting programme.

May 5

It’s good spending some time with your brothers in the community.  Smithstone is home from home. In fact whenever I have visited the Dehonian communities anywhere in the world I have always felt at home.  Although we might come from different cultures the same spirit binds us together.  Jesus says that if anyone leaves father, mother, houses, etc for his sake they will be repaid a hundredfold.  It’s certainly true when it comes to houses.  And that’s not forgetting my brothers and sisters.  That’s four homes I have in Scotland alone.

While saying the Office of Readings I get distracted thinking that one of the emails yesterday was from someone in the group looking for help to get copies of the Divine Office, the full set with the Readings.  That would be a big commitment from anyone, though there are others in the group who say the Prayer of the Church.  The Reading, from the Early Fathers of the Church, can be quite challenging.  Today St Hilary is speaking about the Trinity – tough going, yet mind-blowing.  He says:

“If the Word was truly made flesh, and if we truly receive the Word made flesh in the Lord’s food, why should we not hold that he remains within us naturally….Accordingly we are all one, because the Father is in Christ, and we are in Him, and being united with :Him, what we are is in God.”

If we really believed that Jesus lived within us, and therefore we lived in God, we would want to run down the street and tell the first person we met about it.  It would produce a ‘total eclipse of the heart’.  It reminds me of when I was playing golf with my brother last year and a lady came bursting through the trees bubbling: “I’ve just scored a hole-in-one.  It’s my first time.  I’m on my own.  Who will believe me?”  My response was: “People will believe you.  You couldn’t act the kind of joy you are experiencing now.”  Why are we so good at hiding our joy?  Would people believe us?  Do we believe it ourselves?

In order to lower the tone completely, here is another limerick, inspired by the eclipse last night.  Enjoy it.  It could be the last:

There was a young man from Kilwinning.

His heart was continually spinning.

He saw an eclipse,

He swears with his lips,

And now he’s perpetually grinning.

Our meeting continues this morning.  One of the issues we look at is the Beatification of Leo Dehon next year.  How can we prepare for that here?  How to go about arranging for people who want to go to Rome for the ceremony.  John is going to arrange a programme for the younger age-groups who go out, including people from Project 2030.

Some people asks whether the beatification of our Founder will encourage more people to commit their lives to God within our community.  Who knows.  There are still people out there who are thinking seriously about priesthood and religious life.  Last year on Iona two of the women spoke openly about their thoughts of becoming nuns, and a good few men have spoken along the same lines – not about becoming nuns of course.  We say there is a shortage of these kind of vocations today, and there is in our countries, but the numbers of those studying for the priesthood has doubled since John Paul II became Pope. There are now 128,000 preparing for the priesthood throughout the world, the most there has ever been in the history of the Church.  There will be two novices next year at our house in Dublin preparing to go to a country I cannot mention on a web page because the Government there is trying to stop people studying for the priesthood.

Our meeting also discusses the idea of producing a prayer book for the Beatification.  This gets me thinking about whether we could do with a small prayer booklet for the group, produced by the group, or even just a prayer, or maybe a small card that fits into your wallet besides your plastic.  We’ve heard that the prayer book I described on April 19 cannot be sold because of copyright, but they have just sent us another pile from the States. So if anyone sends a cheque for £10 made out to Project 2030 (India fund) to St Joseph’s, Malpas, Cheshire, SY14 7DD, we will send you a copy.  If anyone wants a smaller booklet of Dehonian Prayers with a selection of Oblations (Morning Offering Prayers), send four first class stamps to the same address.

When the meeting finishes at lunch time I beat a hasty retreat for the train back to Stockport.  That’s eight days I’ve been on the road.  On the journey my thoughts go back to Iona.  I remember that I forgot to say that we (or some of the group) drank the wine that Matt and Michelle gave me at their wedding (see April 12) and we toasted their meeting on the way to Iona last year.  Also, on Monday, at the Drovers Inn, the group gave me a Celtic cross as a souvenir of our visit to St Columba’s Isle.  It will get  place on the mantelpiece next to the map of Iona in the office.

May 6

Day off, so here’s the second part of the article on Leo John Dehon.

For Leo Dehon the open side and the pierced heart of Jesus on the cross are the most eloquent signs of God’s love.  He summed up his and our vocation as imitating the willingness of the Son of God to become human: “Here I am”, and of Mary who said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.”  Dehon might not stand out today like a Mother Teresa or a Padre Pio, but he represents all of us who strive to live our life for God and for others.  He was known as someone who was both practical and spiritual, sympathetic yet dynamic.

Before he died he wrote to his followers: “I leave you the most wonderful of treasures, the Heart of Jesus.”  His last words were: “For Him I live, for Him I die.”   At his funeral the Bishop of Soissons said: “A page of great religious history is about to conclude.”  He is buried in St Martin’s, a church he built near the centre of St Quentin.

When he died there were 600 members in his community.  Now there are 2,300 in 35 countries, as well as other religious Congregations and lay organizations that follow his spirituality and consider themselves Dehonians.  The Sacred Heart Fathers (Dehonians) came to England in 1936.  In 1970 we moved to Scotland and then in 1978 we set up our first community in Ireland.

By his fruits you shall know him.  Now that he is to be beatified many others at home and abroad will come to know his name, but above all will come to appreciate more the great love God has for us, shown through his Son, Jesus Christ.

May 7

10.00 am and I’m sitting in the dentist’s.  It’s a bit like waiting to go to Confession, only worse.  So I feel I am justified in breaking my promise not to do any more Limericks:

There was a young man from Leith

Who had problems enough with his teeth.

He went for a filling,

Collapsed at the drilling,

I can think of plenty of words to rhyme for the last line, but not a good sentence, so you’re going to have to do that yourself.  Here’s some help: beef, belief, beneath, chief, deaf (Scottish pronunciation), grief, heath, Keith, reef, relief, wreath.  If nobody emails me the final line then I will take it as a sign to stop doing the limericks.

It’s only my second time at this dentist and he’s calling me Father.  How does he know I’m a priest?  I didn’t give my name as Father and my address was just 1 Tatton St.  Fr Liam comes here aswell, and maybe the receptionist has put two and two together,but I could be just a lodger.

Not that I have any problem with people calling me Father, but I usually introduce myself as Hugh.  In the early days of the groups more people called me Hugh.  In general I prefer that.  It can be a bit embarrassing in a pub if someone calls you Father, especially if they are in their late 30s and me obviously (?) too young to be their Father.  Though I have a classmate whose grandchild is in their 20s.  Do the maths yourself.

When I started the 20s in London I introduced myself as Hugh Hanley from the Sacred Heart Fathers/Dehonians.  But people didn’t understand that I was ordained.  When we had our first retreat day in London the group were wondering who was going to say Mass and were a bit surprised when it was me.  They only told me this about a year later when they had got to know me.

When I get called to the dentist’s inner sanctum, the good news is that I don’t need to get that tooth removed.  The X ray looks okay, but the bad news is that the chipped one at the back needs to be capped.  It’s quite a strenuous process preparing the tooth, and I ask myself why is it you don’t hear of many people having heart attacks at the dentists.

With going to the dentist I don’t seem to get very much done in the morning.  Also, after my day off, it is harder getting going on a Friday.  Yesterday was the first day off I’ve had in Stockport since March, but if you have been reading the diary you will see that I have not been doing too badly in between.

I got back from Scotland to find copies of the new magazine.  It looks as good as I had hoped.  Already Celia and Clare have sent copies out to the parishes in London along with the details of the newcomers’ meetings later in the month.  We’ll get them out to the other areas and groups as soon as possible.  I put a pile at the back of the church.  We can only send a limited amount to each parish, but it will be interesting to see how they go here.  There must be almost 100 at the midday Mass.  It’s market day and also the First Friday when traditionally we have the Mass of the Sacred Heart.

After lunch I’m still tying up the details of the Glasgow 20s newsletter which will go out tomorrow.  Then I remember in time that the Dublin 30s will be doing their programme for June tonight at their monthly gathering.

I have to get a new date for the evening on personal growth from Fr John and fortunately I’ve got Caroline’s mobile to ring her at work with the change.

This evening there are newcomers’ meetings in Manchester, which fortunately is not too far away.   Unfortunately the time that was sent to the parishes for the 30s was 4.00 pm and not 8.00 pm (it’s at 4.00 tomorrow, Saturday, in Liverpool).  Quite a few parish priests got in touch to query the time, so it shows they are interested, but it was too late to tell them all about the mistake.

I head into Manchester early in case anyone turns up.  There is a very regular train service but I have to change and they are taking longer than I expected.  This in only my third time coming into Manchester since September.  I ring ahead to the Friends Meeting House run by the Quakers to say I will be late.  And just as well because someone has turned up at the earlier time and they wait on for me.

After a one-to-one explanation of the group we went for a coffee.  I’m now writing this in the square across from Manchester’s Central Library.  I’ll finish here and get this in the post and report on the Liverpool and Manchester newcomers’ meetings tomorrow.  

May 8

LIVERPOOL – NEWCOMERS’ MEETINGS – MANCHESTER, (continued)

In Stockport Station waiting for the 11.41 to Liverpool for the newcomers’ meeting.  Before I came out almost managed to get on top of the emails, post and phone messages that had been building up while I was away last weekend.

I’m glad I got the train last night as well to the newcomers’ meetings in Manchester.  People were either complaining about how far away they had to park the car, popping out to put more money in the meter, or at the end forgetting where they had parked the car.

There wasn’t a big crowd at the meeting, but there was a good spirit and plenty of interest.  Some of the people were well travelled or had just moved back to the area.  As always, people say how difficult it is to come along to something like this for the first time, even if you are quite extraverted.

Four of us there had been to Iona, so there was quite a bit of reminiscing about the experience.  Michael’s report on the weekend arrived during the week.  I enjoyed reading it this morning.  It will be sent out soon to all the groups by email.  It’s a pity the postal people don’t get a chance to read these reports and other emails that are sent around.  We might give the postal people the option of paying so much a year if they want reports, talks,reflections, etc, sent to them every so often.

After the meeting we got the couch area at Café Uno.  This looks like the same chain of cafes we go to near More House in London.  We talk about various events we have been on or are going to.  I get the feeling that the group is the kind of thing the newcomers are looking for, but there is always quite a high percentage of people who do not come back.  Despite how brilliant we are, it is not what they are looking for.

A few of the old stagers have already booked for the gathering at Malpas in August.  They are keen to get involved in the preparation of it, so we agree to call a meeting to coincide with the day of retreat we are having at Shalom, Stockport on 11 July.  That’s the next weekend I definitely (God sparing) know that I will be in the North-West.

People are impressed by the new magazine – it looks good, it’s easy to read, people will be attracted to it at the back of church, are some of the comments.  The pictures are pored over to see who’s who.  And they come in handy for some to keep the rain off as we leave the café.

The attendances at Liverpool are not any better than Manchester.  One excuse here was that it was raining most of the day.  We discuss time and venue, but agree that we couldn’t get much better.  The other positive is that others have seen the notice in their parish newsletters and have been ringing and emailing, so there should be a flow of new people to the groups.

Someone comes up the stairs who is obviously not in his 20s or 30s.  He’s seen the advert and wants some information for his son.  This is not unusual, but it turns out that all the new people this afternoon heard about us through a parent or parent’s friend.  We agree that maybe new posters should be directed not to people in their 20s and 30s but to ‘mums and dads’.

Somebody said that their mum kept leaving the tear-off slip with our email and phone number lying around in strategic places for months until they eventually capitulated and got in touch.  They had been on the mailing list for a while and took the chance of the newcomers’ meeting to make a first appearance.

I mentioned the web diary and said how much I was enjoying writing it.  “So it’s therapeutic”, someone knowingly said.  I had never looked at it that way.  I confessed to feeling energised by it and more connected to the work I’m doing, but I’ll need to meditate a bit more on ‘therapeutic’.

Our meeting is on the top floor of the Pauline Books and Media shop in Bold Street, near the Central Station.  It’s run by the Daughters of St Paul.  We’ve met and had talks here before.  The Sisters are very supportive and are happy to give out copies of the magazine to people in their 20s and 30s.  I buy some prayer cards and a book, ‘Anam Cara, Spiritual Wisdom from the Celtic World’ by John O’Donohue.  It will be good to take to Knock with me next weekend.

On the way back on the train I take out the book, but find I am reading the plastic bag first.  The Sisters provide media resources and promote Christian values in over 50 countries.  That’s more than the Sacred Heart Fathers (Dehonians) who are in almost 40.  They also have shops in London and Glasgow.  See www.pauline-uk.org

There’s a group of football supporters opposite.  Who is your team?  They apologise that it is Grimsby.  I don’t say I’m in a similar position with Morton.  I tell them I saw Grimsby once in 1978 when I was in the parish at Market Rasen for a year.  It was a Cup game, against, I think, Spurs.  They confirm that they did lost to Greenock about that time.

I  still don’t know how Morton have done today.  Will they throw away promotion?  Don’t tell me the Premiership scores.  I’ll enjoy more watching Match of the Day if I don’t know how the games went.  It’s later and teletext tells me that Morton have lost and are now out of the promotion spots with one game left.  This season I think they lost their Scottish record of consecutive wins to Celtic.  But it looks as though they are going to gain another record.  Surely no other team has been 19 points ahead for promotion to throw it away.

May 9

SUNDAY IS SUNDAY – 3 DIOCESES – DRINK

They say that anticipation is often much better than the actual event.  I was really looking forward to today because it is not often that I have a Sunday as a Sunday with a chance to relax in a way that is more difficult on a weekday.  Even when I was in a parish and you were busy with Masses and baptisms and seeing people, you could still relax better in the times that were quiet.  Reading the newspaper or watching the television, or just mooching around can best and easiest be done on a Sunday.

And yet the day never quite worked out as I hoped, there never was that feeling of “I’m enjoying myself”.  Maybe having breakfast at 7.00 was not such a good idea.  When I was younger I could sleep in for Scotland whenever I got the chance, but not now.  In those years I also used to ask why it was that at college and in community we had less times of prayer on a Sunday which was supposed to be the day of the Lord.  There never was an answer for it but I suppose for us ever day was a day of the Lord, and on the Sabbath even the Lord allowed us to rest a bit from our ‘work’.

I hoped to get in a good walk in the morning, so I looked in the Directory to see what Masses were on in the parishes round about.  Usually if I don’t have a Mass to say I go to a parish where I am not known by the priests.  I have spent the last 13 years living in the Shrewsbury Diocese so I am known to quite a number, but luckily here we are on the borders of the Salford and Nottingham Dioceses, so that gives options.  The Nottingham Diocese includes Derbyshire, which comes within a few miles of Stockport.  It also stretches as far as Grimsby on the east coast, so those supporters I met on the train yesterday were almost home, ecclesiastically speaking.  They never told me they had lost in Tranmere, and so were relegated.  We have a retreat day in Stockport in July, so must do a publicity campaign in the nearby Nottingham parishes to invite people to come across the border.

Sometimes I get the impression that diocese, a bit like parish, is not so important to people today, but I once did a check with 30 newcomers in London, and they all knew which diocese they came from, and there was a good representation of the four dioceses that come within the M25.

Recently Project 2030 has been invited to send representatives along to a consultation or listening process in the Westminster Archdiocese.  Often I don’t know which diocese people in the groups come from in London.  We have a male representative for Westminster, but not a female yet.  So if you or someone you know is able for this please get in touch.

I found a parish in a good walking area but it turned out that the Mass times had been changed, so I only managed a couple of strolls before and after Mass.  I was impressed that someone walking up to the church asked me if I was new in the area.  Often Catholic churches get the reputation of not being as welcoming as other Churches, but this was done quite naturally by someone whose ‘job’ it wasn’t.  Though I have also been put off when visiting Protestant churches and people are all over you.

I had a drink before lunch, my first for ages.  As I say that I’m conscious of those who might think you can give away too much personal information in a diary like this, but it is a question I often get asked by the group when we go for a pub lunch or, after a meeting: “Don’t you drink at all?”, meaning alcohol, and sometimes someone will say: “But I thought priests were big drinkers”.  Fr Ted has a lot to answer for.  My reply to the first question is usually: “If I drink at lunch time it makes me sleepy and if I drink in the evening it keeps me awake.  So I just drink at breakfast.”

Once at the doctor’s I was asked how much I drank.  When I said:  “About 40 units” the nurse’s jaw dropped, before I could say “per year”.  It would be even less than that now.  As for priests generally, there will be some who make up for their more abstemious colleagues, but they are likely to be remembered in a way that people say: “It always rains on Bank Holidays”.  In my last community I was the biggest drinker, and it’s the same now.  But myths are much more interesting.

May 10

HIT COUNTER – EMAILS – CARDINAL WINNING – JOURNALISTS

Last week we signed up this web page for a month’s free trial with one of those companies that does hit counters, etc.  Basically it tells you how many people have visited the site, but it gives all kinds of other information, much more than we will ever need.  It tells you how people came to the site – did they enter the full address or did they find it when looking for something else.  It tells you what time the person visited.  It doesn’t give you their email address, but records their servers, eg: aol or tiscali.  The only thing it doesn’t give, which would be useful, is how long people stay on the site.

This morning I thought it was time to check and see how many visits we were getting.  I was pleasantly surprised to see there had been over 100 hits.  58 of these were yesterday, of which 22 were visitors who had been on before.  I presumed the big number of hits was  because we had sent out the emails telling people about the site, but later discovered that the email did not go out until 9.15 pm last night, though some groups had already been informed of the diary beforehand.

Is this diary the kind of web page I would visit myself?  The answer has to be a resounding no.  This might sound a bit shocking, like someone on the television admitting they would never use the product they advertise.  But see me, see web pages, I hate them.  Now he tells us.  Until last year I was Chairman of the Enneagram Association, and the Webmaster was continually disappointed that I had never looked at the web pages.  They do my head in.

Any time I spend in front of the computer seems to pickle my brain, and looking at web pages more so.   To counter this the office checks all my emails first.  Many they can deal with themselves – new people, changes of address, information about newsletters.  If there is anything urgent I give them an answer over the phone and the rest of the emails they send on by post to Stockport or, for example last week, to Kilwinning.  I then hand write a reply and send them back by post.

It might not be the fastest system or the most economical, but writing things on the computer takes me about three times as long and uses up three times as much energy, even though I can touch type.  When I dealt with my own emails I was always falling miles behind, so in fact this system can be quicker, especially as I am away so much of the time.  Though it was embarrassing recently when a batch of emails got lost in the post for a couple of weeks and there were some that needed a reasonably quick reply or acknowledgement.  But in the end it is better that I am freed to do things that only I can do for the group.

During Adoration, then Mass at 12.00, my head was spinning and I was as high as a kite.  I thought I had taken caffeinated coffee instead of decaff by mistake, until I remembered that I had been on the Internet pouring over all the information we were getting with our web counter.  I even had a look at this web page and came up with a few changes for the home page.

Before lunch I nipped to the library, which is only a few minutes’ walk away.  I had already renewed my four books three times and they were due today.  Two, I had just finished during the week.  One was ‘This Turbulent Priest’, a life of Cardinal Winning by Stephen McGinty, a journalist who, like most journalists, writes first and foremost for his journalistic audience.  As a first book it is very good, and gives a sharp insight into the life of the Cardinal, even if it doesn’t capture his soul and his humour.

I must admit that I am ambivalent towards journalists.  I have to admire the way they can put together a newspaper every day, but if you know anything about a story there are always mistakes.  As a point of honour (if that’s the word) they don’t go back to the people in the story and check the accuracy.  In the book on the Cardinal, p246, it describes how he spent some time with our community.  There are at least four inaccuracies in this one sentence: “The retreat took place at the House of the Sacred Heart, a retreat house buried in the English countryside, a few miles from the little town of Malpass, on the Welsh border”.

A few years later the then Archbishop of Glasgow found one of our Indonesian missionaries wandering around Heathrow, wondering how to get to Malpas.  He took him in hand (who would have known where Malpas was?), got on the phone to us and sorted out his transport.

The importance of journalists is the way they seek out the truth, but the only people who do not come fully under their scrutiny is their fellow-journalists, and they fall too easily into the temptation of twisting or exaggerating the truth to make it more sensational and sell papers.

Cardinal Winning was a strong character who was not afraid to take on the Government and the establishment.  He’ll likely be best remembered for putting the Archdiocese’s money behind a scheme supporting pregnant women who were tempted to have an abortion for financial reasons.  I met him a couple of times, and preached before him at a Sister’s Final Vows.  Afterwards I was half-waiting to fall victim to his sharp humour, but I got away ith it.

May 11 

CONTRIBUTE TO DIARY – BRITNEY SPEARS – WANADOO

When I asked people’s advice on the web diary before we launched it, a few people mentioned it would be good to get others in the group involved in it some how, for example, ask people to send in their own diaries, etc.  A good idea, but I couldn’t quite see how to organise that.  Except that I am due to go on holiday in June, and I wouldn’t want the diary to run out of steam, so we’re asking people to send something in.  Do it now.

 For the diary in June, you can send in whatever you like, as long as it’s positive and relevant to the group.  Here are some suggestions:

.           A day in the life of… Give us an idea how your usual day

            goes, like at the back of the Sunday Times magazine;

.           A reflection on something that’s important to you;

.           How Project 2030 changed my life – or maybe just what the

            group means to you;

.           Your hopes for the group; ideas for development and        growth;

.           A poem or a prayer, made up by you or someone else;

.           A report on some event you attended;

.           A response to something you have read in the diary;

.            Describe something important that happened in your life;

.            Describe what your faith means to you.

Email your contributions for the June diary to hugh@project2030.fsnet.co.uk under the title ‘June Diary’.  We need at least 14 days covered.  Send it also as an attachment to make it easier to upload.  Say how you want to be known – full name or initials, or just your group and whether you want your email on it.  Remember, it is going on to the web.  Send it by 25 May to give us time to sort things out.  It can be as long or as short as you like.

In our community we can have three weeks’ holiday in the summer, as well as a week at Christmas.  Usually I split them up, but last year for the first time in ages, I took three weeks together and I felt the benefit.  Although I get plenty of busman’s holidays with the group, there is still the need to get away on my own.  I’ll likely go to Manchester Airport and see what last minute bargains there are in the likes of Spain.  Two years ago I got something on the day itself.  Any suggestions welcome. 

Yesterday when I was surfing the Web I put ‘project 2030’ into a couple of search engines and it came up with several mentions.  I even googled my own name.  How sad.  There are a few other Hugh Hanleys out there.  Is it true that it is important to get key words into the first sentence of the web page so that people who are looking for related pages will find you?  Did I see or did I dream that there are 8 trillion pages of web material on the google search engine?

I’m told it is also good to mention other famous or important names, like Britney Spears, who is or who used to be the most searched-for name on the web.  Yet how many Catholics in their 20s or 30s will be searching for Britney Spears?  Don’t answer that.  I even had a legitimate excuse to mention her 10 days ago on the way to Iona.  Someone said she had just been in Glasgow for a concert and had gone bowling in Coatbridge.  Our hit counter tells us if someone comes to our page while searching for another name.  It even gives the name.  We’ve had people looking for Malpas, or Castlerigg Manor, or the Sacred Heart.  As far as Britney is concerned, I have my doubts, but we’ll let you know.

Our server for the web page is Freeserve, now Wanadoo.  There was a letter about the change in the post.  I gave the number a ring to say we’ve been having problems sending out attachments to the groups and was Wanadoo likely to make things any better.  Calls to the Freeserve helpline have not been very helpful.  The excuse was that they are trying to cut down on the number of viruses being sent around, which I’m all for, but I suspect they are either trying to get us to pay for the service – it’s still free – or they are just not interested in people who send out to big groups.  Wanadoo were no more helpful and they couldn’t put me in touch with anyone who could give me an answer.  No wanadoo, no wanaknow.  So we might need to change our server.  Suggestions welcome.

But more importantly, send in your contributions for the diary in June by 25^th May.

May 12

FENCES – LAUNDRY

The days I spend in the office there is a danger I don’t go out at all, except maybe a mad dash to catch the last post at 7.30 pm.  Being in the centre of Stockport, we are very handy for things.  The main sorting office is only a few minutes’ walk away.  Sometimes in the winter, when the sun is shining, I make myself go out to get some vitamin whatever in my bones.  Though with all the travels you could hardly call me a shut-in.

Yesterday we had work going on in the garden.  What is about guys that they like watching men at work.  If the gas board are digging a hole in the road there will always be a few fellas looking on.  Fr Liam and Adrian were putting up a fence.  Adrian is a local thirtysomething who decided recently to go into gardening.  When it was quiet over the winter he spent a week at Malpas helping out.  We happened to be there for our Advent retreat, and he joined us for some of the time.

I called it a garden.  There was a bare-looking patio area in front of the house next to the car park.  About 10 years ago Fr Con liked to sit there in the summer for some fresh air, but there was no privacy with people passing all the time going to the school and the church.  So he put in one of those fast-growing hedges.  Now the hedge is over six feet, but the gate is still low.  When I came here in September I would often go out there for a coffee mid-morning and do some phone calls.  But you were still likely to get someone shouting over the gate: “Hello, Father.  Catching the sun are we?  Glad to see you’ve got somewhere no-one will disturb you!”

The job in the garden was to put in a higher gate and renew the fence on that side.  It was reasonably warm, so I took the chance to go out with a cup of cha and inspect the work.  Top marks.  All we need now is the good weather.  At Dehon House last year I was sitting out the back in the sun at the end of March, and the previous year we were having lunch in the sun still at the beginning of October.

There is also a tiny enclosed yard outside the kitchen with a drying line (the house will be over 100 years old).  Usually when doing my laundry I stick it in the dryer, but today, inspired by the better weather, I decided it was time to be eco-friendly and use the outside line.  Except for my shirts.  A few minutes in the dryer and they don’t need ironing.  The rain stayed off.  My mother would have been proud of me, God rest her.  As kids we were always on weather watch on washing days, and if the rain came on it was all hands on deck to bring the washing in.  One day when it’s quiet I might tell the story of my mum and dad and a washing day.

Joseph tells us that the new magazine is now up on our web page www.project2030.org.uk - so check it out.  It will be posted to everyone, even those on the email list.  But be patient.  The office has been very busy recently.  Celia and Clare only work part-time for Project 2030.  They also do some days at Malpas, and other things.  At the moment there are quite a few emails and calls coming in with the newcomers meetings being advertised in the North-West and London (22-23 May at More House.  See newsletter).  There have been big mailings going out to the parishes, and the London 20s and 30s newsletters are just being mailed this week after delays due to uncertainty over certain dates.

There’s also a newcomers for the Dublin 30s on 26 May.  We were hoping that there was a car doing over to Dublin that could take the envelopes for posting, as they are quite heavy with the magazines enclosed.  The car offer fell through, but Fr Jim and Fr Bobby are at Malpas today for a meeting and are going to take back some by plane.  The rest I can take when I go to Knock on Friday.  I phoned the Pilgrims’ Office in Knock to enquire about saying Mass while we are there.  They said post only takes a couple of days to get to Dublin, so the posters will be in the parishes for the Sunday before the meeting. They could do with longer, but most parishes leave them up for a while after the meeting as well.

The parishes in all our areas (except Scotland, that’s next month) will have received a mailing from us in May.  So if you don’t see anything in your parish newsletter about the newcomers meetings mention to the parish priest that you are involved in the group and that you would like to see it promoted in your parish.  Priests get mailings from all kinds of groups, and things can easily get overlooked.  And if there is another event coming up in your area, give the details to your priest and he will put it in the newsletter.  Somebody said last week that their PP still did not know what the group was about.  The magazines will help.

May 13

Day off, so here’s a reflection I wrote earlier in the week. 

Someone got back to me about something that was in the diary last week.  I was talking about atheists and I said I had to admire their ‘higher faith’.  This might have given the impression that the faith of atheists was better than ours.  Certainly not what I meant.  To some degree I was being ironic, but not entirely.  It’s just that you have to believe more intently to be an atheist, to keep feeding the conclusion that there could not possibly be a God when there are so many clear signs of God around.

Atheists will criticise and patronise us because our life seems to be based on a faith which we cannot prove, while they believe that their life is based on fact and scientific proof.  In recent times scientists have come to accept that many of their most basic theories cannot be proved.  They have to be accepted on faith until a better theory arises.  But they will never be able to prove everything.  They don’t believe they will ever be able to go beyond or before the big bang  which is said to have started the universe.  Even the big bang theory is now in doubt, even though for a long time most people accepted it in faith.

The point is that it is not just religious people who base their life on faith.  Everybody has to do it to come degree.  You can’t actually prove that someone loves you, even if you are about to commit your life to them.  It has to include a leap of faith, based on the positive signs that they show.  How can we know what is beautiful, true and right?  People can argue about it, and society and cultures can come to an agreement about it, but in the end we cannot prove it.  It includes as element of faith.

To go back to the atheists, they in general would not like to think that their life also depends on faith, but there is no escaping it.  As Christians we look at the world and, despite some difficulties, we see a creation of great beauty.  We see a humanity that, despite mistakes, can come to a consensus about what is good and beautiful and true.  Even before we look at the revelation of God in the Bible, and in his son Jesus, we can see that the most obvious explanation for the world is that there is a loving God, a Creator.

Despite the obvious proofs, the atheist does not want to accept the possibility of a God.  If you were wandering through the woods and came across a beautiful garden you would presume that there must be a gardener who looks after all this.  But the atheist does not want to look at this.  They still want it to be proved that there is a gardener somewhere.  The atheist is keen to keep his autonomy  and independence which would be threatened if they accepted a God as Creator.  Although they are materialists they would still like to create a heaven on earth.

If someone kept sending you flowers and chocolates anonymously (or even a season ticket for your football team) most people would believe that there was someone out there who loved you.  But the atheist is too pragmatic.  They still want proof that the chocolates mean anything.  They believe they are meaningless by themselves.

In the end the average person of faith comes to the more obvious conclusion, while the atheist clings to their firmer belief that there is no-one out there, despite the various clear signs.  That is why the atheist’s faith is stronger, rather than higher.  They don’t want to accept that they have any faith at all, but in fact it takes a higher (not better) level of faith to believe that there is no God.

All this is not to make us smug and judgmental.  There can be a bit of the atheist in all of us.  As St Paul said: “Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief”.  And living in a society that has atheism as one of the most powerful religions (religion seen by definition as something that binds people together), then we are bound to be affected.  And the worst kind of atheism is when people who have no faith in God use theistic religions as a cover for their own personal or political ends.  

May 14

On the bus to Knock.  Well, not quite, but to Manchester Airport to catch the flight.  The bus station is just a short walk down the hill and it’s first stop the airport in 20 minutes.  The flight is delayed, but this gives me the opportunity to do you know what.  It’s easier writing on the hoof than when I have a day in the office.

Why Knock?  At the end of the nineteenth century a large group of people had a vision in this small town in Co. Mayo in the West of Ireland.  What they saw was a vision of the Lamb of God, possibly the only time such a vision has been reported.  To the side were Mary, Joseph, and the Apostle John.

It quickly became a place of pilgrimage.  A large basilica was built in the 60s, and in the 80s a glass covering was put over the gable end of the parish church where the vision had been seen.  The Pope was here in 1979.  the then Director of the Shrine was a Canon Horan, who pushed and pushed to get the airport built, a seeming white elephant in a quiet part of the country but which has become a boon to the West.

An irreverent joke is told about the opening of the airport.  The Canon wanted to have the best person possible to open it.  The President and the Pope were discounted.  He wanted to go for the Virgin Mary.  She agreed to come and gave a speech: “I’m so happy to be here in Knock for the first time…”

The last time I was in Knock was for Liam’s ordination in 2002, which reminds me that he was going to ask me to take something over from him.  He comes from Swinford, just down the road.  Just as well he didn’t give me anything, as I’m carrying a load of envelopes with magazines for the parishes in Dublin to post in Knock, as well as copies for the 20s.  We still haven’t been able to get the 30s updated list formatted into our label sizes, so they’ll just need to wait a little while longer.

The idea for  this weekend came at the 30s monthly gathering in February.  There was just time to put in the main events.  There’s not a big crowd coming, but I’m sure those who do will enjoy it.

We’ve likely put too many things into this year’s main events.  But the theory is that if someone comes up with a good idea then let’s try it.  The same applies to area programmes.  If it works it works.  If it doesn’t, we’ve learned.  The first time we planned to go to Iona we had to cancel because of numbers, yet it’s proved a winner since.

This week we’ve also had to cancel Poland in July.  Only six had signed up by now.  That usually means you can double the numbers, but a couple of those booked were having difficulties in going.  Typically, when you cancel, other bookings come in straight away, but we’ll leave it for another year.

The main problem was the three days camping when we were to join a big Dehonian youth gathering.  Quite a few people asked if they could miss the time under tents, but that was the whole point in going.  When we were in Germany last year the Poles invited us to join them this summer.  Quite a few were keen on the idea in the bus on the way home, but none of those who went to Germany had booked up for it.  That’s the way it goes.

People have to balance their priorities, and the thought of taking a week’s holiday to go camping in a language you don’t understand can lose its appeal.  Last year over the summer 40 went to Germany and 20 went to Rome, but that was different.

It’s easy enough to write in a corner of Costa Coffee in the airport, with the buzz of people chatting nearby.  But then someone starts talking on his mobile.  Not that I have any objection to that in principle, but it’s noticeable how loud people speak on the phone.  It dins into me and I can’t concentrate.  It must be because when we phone we block out one ear with the handset and don’t realise we are compensating, or because the person we are listening to sounds so faint.  Sometimes I speak very low into the mobile and check that others can hear me.  Yes, someone said, but you sound like David Attenborough whispering in the Serengeti on one of his nature programmes.

May 15

KNOCK.  IRISH ANCESTRY.  SERVICES.  CAMERA.  EUROVISION

I’m in Knock ahead of the others.  They are catching the 8.00 am bus from Dublin this morning.  It’s good to have some time of quiet in a place of pilgrimage.  Our community used to have the tradition of doing a day’s retreat every month.  Even when you spend a lot of time with someone it is still good to have some time away with them if you want to get to know them better.  I’m the same with God.

We can take people for granted, and God as well.  We can talk a lot without communicating at a deeper level.  There can be issues that we are avoiding, or are just not aware of.  It can be the same in our relationship with God.

Any time spent in Ireland is enjoyable and resonates with my Irish genes.  My great grandparents were all Irish.  My mother’s older sisters were born in Ireland.  The year before I was born my parents went to Dublin for a holiday to see if they would like to settle back in Ireland for the sake of the children.  But they didn’t find it that much different from Scotland.  Maybe if they’d gone down the country.

One of my cousins married a real Scotsman from the Western Isles where they had remained Catholic.  He complained that at family gatherings all we ever sang was Irish songs.  People are more Scottish now, but whenever I have mentioned my Irish roots to people from the group they look at me as if to say we’ve heard that from thousands of others.  It is surprising how many from the groups in Britain have Irish connections.

The bus from Dublin arrives on time at 12.27.  People are ready for something to eat after the journey.  We then sort out the Bed and Breakfasts and head for the Shrine.  We are staying just across the road from it.  Knock could be described as a mini Lourdes, but it has kept its rural character.  There are horses grazing in the fields, and the bypass means there’s little traffic on the road.

The sun comes out as we join the crowd for Stations of the Cross, followed by a Rosary Procession which leads us to the Basilica in time for the 3.00 pm Mass.  The Salesian Community have their pilgrimage today, so the singing and ceremonial are extra special.  There is also anointing of the sick.  Some of the group go forward.

Last week I was able to borrow a digital camera.  When the groups started I used to take a lot of photographs.  Gradually the camera got left behind as you realised that hardly anyo