The Tasks for the Next Pope (and it won't be me!)

In theory, I could be elected as the next pope (you don't believe it? I am a male Catholic--that's the basic requirement). I want to make it clear right now: no matter how much the cardinals beg or plead, I'm not going to accept the role.

An old friend from Berea College in Central Kentucky has an extraordinary blog. It's called Mike Rivage-Seul's Blog: " . . .about things that matter" (http://mikerivageseul.wordpress.com/). Mike is a theologian and a former priest. He and his wife Peggy Rivage-Seul are prophetic presences for the Church and for the World.

Today's blog entry lays out some tasks for the new pope, whoever he shall be (and as I said above, it's not going to be me). Here is what Mike writes:

So the cardinals of the church are meeting to elect the next pope. Who cares? The media obviously do. The Catholic Church is getting a lot of air time and ink. But some of us might be caught yawning.

The yawn issues from the fact that the last two disastrous papacies (John Paul II and Benedict XVI) have so tightly packed the College of Cardinals with reactionary clones of themselves that any hope of rescuing the Romans from their deepest crisis since the Reformation seems remote at the very best.

But if there is hope of such rescue it resides in electing a pontiff who will directly address five issues: (1) summoning an ecumenical council, (2) opening priestly ordination to women, (3) abolition of mandatory celibacy for priests, (4) retraction of the prohibition of artificial contraception, and (5) practical adoption of liberation theology and its preferential option for the poor.

Mike expands on all these issues and makes compelling arguments for them. Check out his blog.

"So early early in the spring . . ."

Snowdrops--Penitentiary Glenn Metropark, Kirtland, Ohio

Today I thought of the song Judy Collins sang so many years ago when I saw the first crocus in bloom in my Chardon, Ohio yard. Below--not Judy Collins, but pretty damn good!

First crocus of 2013--in my yard in Chardon, Ohio

Chainsaws, Ax, and MCC Crew on US-Canadian Border

Tell me this isn't scary!

Lauren, Cliff, Sonny, and Carolan were cutting up fallen timber at the Glacier Institute, up the North Fork of the Flathead River--adjacent to Glacier National Park, not far from the Montana-Canadian border.

"Three Little Pigs" in Irish-Gaelic

 

“Na Trí Mhuicín” [a portion of the story]                “The Three Little Pigs”—In Irish Gaelic

1. Bhí  na trí mhuicín ina suí go moch ar maidin.

Chuaigh siad amach ag obair.

[The three little pigs were sitting early in the morning. Then they went out to work.]

2. Rinne Dónall Muicín teach beag tuí.

Rinne Colm Muicín teach beag adhmaid.

Rinne Brian Muicín teach beag bríce.

[Little Pig Donall made his little house out of straw. Little Pig Colm made his little house out of wood. Little Pig Brian made his little house out of brick.]

3. Tháinig an mac tire gránna go dtí an teach beag tuí.

“Lig isteach mé. Lig isteach mé, a chara mo chroí,” arsa an mac tire.

[The ugly wolf came to the little house of straw. “Let me in. Let me in, my dearest,” said the wolf.]

4. “Ní tusa mo charasa,” arsa Dónall Muicín leis an mac tire gránna. “Ní ligfidh mé isteach thú. Imigh leat abhaile.”

[You’re not my friend,” said Little Pig Donall to the ugly wolf. I will not let you in. Go home.”]

5. “Huth! Huth! Hó!” arsa un mac tire gránna.

“Huh! Huth! Hé! Séidfidh mé agus leagfaidh mé do theach beag tuí.”

Ansin shéid sé agus shéid sé agus leag sé an teach beag tuí.

[Huth! Huth! Ho! Said the ugly wolf. Huth! Huth! Hey! I will blow and I will knock down your little house of straw.” Then he blew and he blew and he knocked down the little house of straw.]

Approximate pronunciation of the story above (capitalized syllables receive greater stress):

1. VEE nuh TREE WUCK-EEN in-uh SEE guh MUKH er MAH-jin.

KHOO-ee SHE-ud ah-MAKH egg UH-ber

2. RINN-uh DOH-nal MUH-KEEN CHYAKH BEE-ug TEE.

RINN-uh CAH-lum MUH-KEEN CHYAKH BEE-ug AH-mudge.

RINN-uh BREE-un MUH-KEEN CHYAKH BEE-ug BREE-kuh

3. HAW-nig un MAHK TEER-uh GRAW-nuh guh JEE un CHYAKH BEE-ug TEE.

LIG ih-SHTAHKH MAY. LIG ih-STAHKH MAY, a KHAR-uh muh KHREE, AR-suh un MAHK TEER-uh.

4. NEE TOO-suh muh KHAR-uh-suh, AR-suh DOH-nal MUH-KEEN lesh un MAHK TEER-uh GRAW-nuh.

NEE LIG-ee MAY ih-SHTAHKH HOO. IH-MEE laht uh-WHILE-yuh.

5. HUH HUH HO, AR-suh un MAHK TEER-uh GRAW-nuh.

HUH HUH HAY. SHAY-ee MAY AH-gus LAHG-ee MAY duh HAHKH BEE-ug TEE.

Ahn-SHIN HADE SHAY AH-gus HADE SHAY AH-gus LAHG SHAY un CHYAHKH

BEE-ug TEE.

It’s hard to write a phonetic transcription without the International Phonetic Alphabet. But I gave it a try using fairly standard English spellings. When I used “h” after a vowel, as in “MAHK,” I’m indicating a lengthening of that vowel. “KH” is being used to show the “ch” sound at the end of a word like “loch.”

Bishop Lennon's Excommunication of Fr. Bob Marrone Is Baloney!

Cleveland's bishop, Richard Lennon, announced yesterday the excommunication of one of the diocese's great priests, Fr. Bob Marrone. Fr. Marrone is the leader of the Community of St. Peter. Not long ago he was pastor of  St. Peter's Church, one of Cleveland's oldest and most historic parishes (my great grandparents, Cornelius Coughlin and Lizzie Ierg were married there in the 1880s!). Then a couple years ago Bishop Lennon closed this vibrant community down (this closing and about 11 other closings were later overturned by the Vatican--a slap in the face of Bishop Lennon). When the church was closed, Fr. Marrone and about 300 parishioners moved to another location, 7100 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, OH 44104, where they've re-established their vibrant community. To see what the Community of St. Peter is doing, check out their website: http://communityofstpeter.org/.

Bishop Lennon has damaged the Diocese of Cleveland severely since his tenure began. He continues to do that.

My prayers are with Fr. Bob Marrone and his community members. My advice: just keep following where the Holy Spirit leads you!

Two Wonderful Irish Tunes (with Lyrics)

A couple weeks ago we heard Shanua perform at the Hiram (Ohio) Christian Church--which is across the street from historic Hiram College. Shanua has to be one of the strangest groups in history--a fusion of Irish and Estonain. Dermot Somerville is the Irishmnan, from Dublin but now living in Greater Cleveland. His wife Ulle is Estonian. Together with wonderful musicians (including Paul Dreisbach on oboe), a violinist, a double bass player, and a chorus, Shanua creates astonishingly beautiful music.

I finally figured out the meaning of the name "Shanua." It comes from two Irish words: "sean" means old; "nua" means new. Shanua fuses the old and the new.

At the Hiram concert (and on Shanua's new album, "Enchantment") there are a couple of wonderful songs sung in Irish-Gaelic. The words of "Eamon an Chnoic" ("Ned of the Hill") are below, with an English translation following. After that I've copied and pasted the beautiful anthem, "Trasna na dTonnta" (Across the Waves"):

éamon an chnoic [Traidisiúnta Éireannach]Cé hé sin amuigh, a bhfuil faobhar ar a guth, Ag réabadh mo dhorais dúnta? Mise Ĕamon a' Chnoic, atá báite fuair fliuch, Ó shíorshúil sléibhte is gleannta. A lao ghil s'a chuid, cad a dhéanainnse dhuit, Mura gcuirfhinn ort binn de mo ghúna? Is go bhfuil púdar go tiubh á shiorshéadadh leat, Is go mbéimish ar aon múchta. Is fada mise 'muigh faoi shneachta's faoi shioc, ‘s gan dánacht agam ar aon neach, Mo sheisreach gan scor, is mo bhranar gan cur, Agus gan iad agam ar aon chor. Níl cairid agam, is danaid liom san, A ghlachfadh mé moch ná déanach, Is go gcaithfidh mé gabháil thar farraige sned of the hill [Traditional Irish]O who is outside with an edge on his voice Beating my bolted door? It is Ned of the Hill, soaked and cold From long trudging the mountains and glens. My darling and my dear, what could I do But cover you with my gown? And with powder so thick firing upon you, We should both be killed. I am a long time outside in snow & sleet Daringly facing all challenges. My plow without cut & my field without seed And neither my own anyway. I have no friend with whom I could stay Or who'd take me in early or late, So I must traverse the ocean east Where alas are none of my family. Trasna na dtonnta [Traidisiúnta Éireannach]Trasna na dtonnta, dul siar, dul siar, Slán leis an uaigneas ‘is slán leis an gcian; Geal é mo chroí, agus geal í an ghrian, Geal bheith ag filleadh go hÉirinn! Chonaic mo dhóthain de Thíortha i gcéin, Ór agus airgead, saibhreas an tsaoil, Éiríonn an croí ‘nam le breacadh gach lae ‘S mé druidim le dúthaigh mo mhuintir! Ar mo thriall siar ó éirigh mo chroí An aimsir go hálainn is tonnta deas réidh Stiúradh go díreach go dúthaigh mo chliabh over the waves [Traditional Irish]Over the waves, going west, going west! Farewell to loneliness and to remoteness. Bright is my heart and bright is the sun, Bright to be returning to Ireland! I saw my fill of countries abroad, Gold and silver, the wealth of the world, My heart rises in me at the break of each day, As I draw closer to the land of my people! Westward bound - oh my heart rose, Weather so beautiful, waves so calm. Steer directly to land of my bosom And I'll be in Ireland tomorrow!

O'Carolan's Beautiful Tunes

A couple weeks ago I attended the Hiram Irish Music Session organized by Professor Tina Dreisbach and her husband Paul. At this particular session Ellen Eckhouse played her harp. Among the songs she played was the O'Carolan tune "Eleanor Plunkett." I don't have a video of Ellen playing, but I found a nice video on Youtube of a fellow playing the tune, alterntating these instruments: Low D whistle; regular D penny whistle; and guitar. Here it is:


Turlough O'Carolan lived from 1670 to 1738 in Ireland. He was born in County Leitrim and grew up there and in County Roscommon. O'Carolan was struck with smallpox at age 18, which left him blind. To make a living, a patron apprenticed him to a harper. Three years later, with a horse and a guide, O'Carolan began traveling Ireland and playing and composing for his living. Often he would compose "planxties" to honor a patron--lots of these are extant and played throughout the world today. His tunes were accompanied by Irish lyrics. But what has survived to the present are the tunes; I've never even heard his lyrics sung.

It is said that his first tune was "Si Bheag, Si Mhor," which translates something like "Little Fairy Mound [or Hill], Big Fairy Mound." It is a magnificent tune, and one of my favorite. I first heard it around 1975 while at an old-timey fiddler festival near Union Grove, North Carolina--I was there with Timmy Jenkins (who, as far as I know, lives in Gays Mills, Wisconsin now). I can play this tune on piano, guitar, and whistle.

Other favorite O'Carolan tunes include:

Loftus Jones
O'Carolan's Draught
O'Carolan's Farewell to Music
Planxty Irwin
Hewlet
Fanny Power

I've heard these tunes on many recordings, including the works of Malcolm Dalglish and Grey Larsen, Joanie Madden and Cherish the Ladies, Patrick Ball, and many others. Many O'Carolan tunes are played at the Hiram session.