The secretary introduced Niamh as a new member of staff, saying that she hoped everyone would give Niamh a warm welcome. The chairman smiled benignly, nodding his agreement with the sentiments expressed.
The meeting proceeded to work through the agenda. “Now”, said the chairman, “we have a report from Nam”.
“It’s Niamh”, the secretary whispered, in a voice so audible that everyone could hear.
“It says Nam here”.
“It’s not pronounced like that”.
“Well, why is it spelt like that”.
“It’s an Irish name.”
“Well, if it’s pronounced that way …
Sermon at Saint Matthias’ Church on 30th November 2008
“At that time men will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory.” Mark 13:26
Please forgive my eccentricity and my apologies to those who have read the story already,: I want to tell about buying a rugby shirt; a story about something that symbolises something far beyond itself
Thursday 20th November was imbued with a November greyness. I thought I might have sat in Saint Stephen’s Green and read for half an hour before going …
Robert Tressell’s “The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists“ was published in 1914, three years after the author’s death. It is a comfortable read now, a century on from the exploitation that Tressell (real name Noonan) described; “a classic of working-class literature” says one commentator.
Tressell died of tuberculosis at the age of 41 – he would have needed to have lived at least thirty years more to see the Welfare State bring some of the changes for which he might have hoped.
The characters in the story struggle for a …
The Olympia was packed on Tuesday night. Duke Special was topping the bill in a Dublin gig for the first time and his assembled fans loved every moment. Not knowing a thing about him, though someone from Belfast with dreadlocks had at least to be untypical, it turned out to be a great night’s entertainment.
Cashier 9 opened the support, playing when the crowd was still arriving and probably with their minds on other things, not least a BBC Radio 2 performance on 8th December. They had hardly left the …
One Sunday in five I do a ‘Letter from Dublin’ piece for the Sunday morning programme on Downtown Radio in Northern Ireland. Mostly it’s folksy, quirky stuff; the sort of bland, inoffensive stuff that one expects from the church. Recording a piece for next Sunday, I felt it was time for a bit of full-blooded Christianity and used something I wrote here a few weeks ago.
Will the producer run it?
Christians annoy me sometimes. We get very worked up about the little things, and we say nothing about the …
On bright winter mornings the priest becomes a silhouette; the sun coming through the window behind the Communion table sometimes bright enough to prompt an averting of the eyes. The Communion table on a Wednesday morning is placed at the crossing of the nave and the transepts, so the tiny congregation sit in the south transept looking northwards.
The sun was especially bright this morning; shining through the three lights of a stained glass window inspired by Saint Paul’s words about faith, hope and love; three female figures represent the …