Sunday Newsletter

Masses Today

6.30: Margaret & Mary Egan, (Anniv).
11.00: Patrick Swords, (Anniv).

As I Was Saying...

'August is a Wicked Month' screamed Edna O'Brien through the pages of her eponymous novel. It is certainly a month of tragic anniversaries: August, 79 AD, saw the volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius with an estimated loss of 30,000 lives. In August 1945, atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, killing 140,000 instantly, with another 140,000 dying as a result within five years.

A survivor, quoted in Robert Jay Lifton's, Death in Life: Survivors of Hiroshima (1967), page 27, described the apocalyptic scene:

The appearance of people was . . . well, they all had skin blackened by burns. . . . They had no hair because their hair was burned, and at a glance you couldn't tell whether you were looking at them from the front or back. . . . perhaps I would not have had such a strong impression. If there were not so many. But wherever I walked I met these people. . . . Many of them died along the road - I can still picture them in my mind -- like walking ghosts.

Some anniversaries, like Hiroshima and Nagasaki, are both instructive and salutary. "We remember so that we may not repeat." In this direction lies the destruction of the human race.

Some anniversaries are sentimental rather than salutary. Two significant icons of popular western culture passed away in August also: Elvis Presley on August 16th, 1977, and Princess Diana on August 31st, 1997.

Both deaths provoked widespread and seemingly intense mourning. Grieving intensely at the death of a person we never knew is most charitably understood as sentimental indulgence. That same sentiment can be summoned up on the following day and reattached to a totally different object of our 'affection'. Such grieving is a communal exercise, rather than an expression of devastating personal loss. Through grieving communally for such popular icons, we are simply 'getting in on the act'. It really means nothing to us on a personal level.

The Catholic Church has a very different approach to anniversaries. Its main focus is neither on the salutary or sentimental. In the Catholic book, anniversaries have their roots in prayers for the dead. An anniversary is not just a moment to acknowledge a life that is over. It is a reminder of a person for whom we still pray. The last words said over the dying Christian are "Go forth, Christian soul, from this world". These are words of encouragement for a journey, and the completion of that pilgrimage requires the continuing prayer of others too.

In 'civil anniversaries', such as those of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, there is obviously a strong salutary element involved. Not just the wickedness of August, but the wicked deeds of humanity are paraded before us. The authentic Catholic response is to acknowledge our mortality and our madness, and to pray for the forgiveness and salvation of all those involved.

-Dick Lyng

Items of Some Interest

The Late Olive Smith (nee Finnerty)

The more senior members of our congregation will have known Olivia Finnerty. Olivia's remains were brought back to St. Augustine's here on Tuesday last and buried after funeral Mass in the New Cemetery.

As you will gather from below, Olive (or Olivia as she was also known) lived an extraordinary life. Those who bemoan the oppression of Irish women in the 1940s and 1950s must not have met up with this feisty adventurous lady.

She was born in Abbeygate Street in 1922 into a family of three boys (Michael, Noel and Brian) and six girls (Eileen, Patsy, Mazie, Lillie, Peggy and Olivia). Only Michael (Florida), Eileen (Ireland) and Patsy (England) survive her.

Her mother provided for her large family through the transactions of her confectionary shop on Abbeygate St. At the age of 18 years, in 1940, Olive moved to England where she secured work on the buses for the duration of the war. She moved back to Ireland in 1946 and married Sean Smith. She was the first non-family member to work in Kenny's Bookshop, an institution which had been founded in 1940.

In 1948, times were hard and jobs were scarce. Sean left Ireland in search of work, leaving Olive behind to look after their recently-born daughter Margo. Sean ended up in a place called Churchill, Canada, a mining town in the Yukon. Within a year, Olive packed her goods and her child and set out to join Sean in his log cabin in the Yukon. Two more children (Shane and Eileen) were born there.

However, in 1958 the family got home-sick again and returned to Ireland. They bought a pub in Belturbet in Cavan which Olive ran. In 1958 their last child, Barry was born. Within a short time Sean decamped again to Canada.

Within two years Olivia again packed her goods and her four children and made here way to Halifax in Nova Scotia. There the family boarded a train which took them right across Canada to Winnipeg, and then to Churchill once more. Here the family eventually settled for the next 23 years. Sean worked in a diesel plant while Olive put her culinary skills to good use in the Engineers's canteen there. She finally managed the Churchill Health Centre kitchen. Sean retired from Manitoba Hydro in 1982 and both he and Olive moved to the city of Winnipeg. Sean died of Alzheimer's disease in February last.

Through all Olive's years of wandering and exile, she stayed in constant touch with her friends in Galway. Her main contact point was Maureen Kenny, but she also visited the city in person on a regular basis. She retained her Galway accent throughout, and even managed to pass it on (albeit in a modified form) to one of her daughters! Olive died of cancer on August 7th in Winnipeg at the age of 84. It was her wish that the funeral Mass be celebrated in the Augustinian Church in Galway and that her remains be interred beside her mother in the New Cemetery, Bohermore.

The fact that over sixty members of her family and friends travelled from Canada for the funeral gives some idea of the great affection in which she was held. Among those present were her four children, Margo, Brian, Eileen and Barry, together with her many, many grandchildren and their friends. May she rest in peace.

Profession of Vows

Pictured in the PDF version of the newsletter is Provincial of the Irish Augustinians, Fr. Gerry Horan (left) presenting the Rule of St. Augustine to Colm O'Mahoney at the latter's Profession of Vows in St. Augustine's on Friday last.

Colm has been with the Order for two years now. His first year was spent here in Galway, 'learning the ropes' about the Augustinian way of life. He then spent twelve months in our international Novitiate in Racine in the United States.

The next step on his journey was the profession of his First Vows in the church here on Friday last. First Vows can be understood as the religious parallel to an engagement. It is 'a trial period', but involving commitment. The timing of his final step will be his own decision. He now moves to the Augustinian community in Cork where he will do further studies in UCC.

We wish Colm every happiness there.

Wedding

Pictured in the PDF version of the newsletter are the happy couple, Paul Keane (Athenry) and Lisa Cronin (Blarney, Cork) who were married in St. Augustine's on Friday last. We wish the couple every happiness.

Valid HTML 4.01 Strict