CONFESSIONS OF A TRIDENTINE* BOY
(THE PRO-CATHEDRAL, ENNIS, 1950-53)
“It has been said: ‘Ireland is one huge monastery’.
In spite of exaggeration [this] correctly
emphasizes the fact that religion and the
supernatural are a vital element in Irish life.
At every twist and turn of the day a man is reminded
of the affairs of the soul. Thus he meets priests
and nuns, he passes by churches and convents;
he hears bells ringing for Mass, the Angelus, etc.
— The whole atmosphere is conducive to spirituality.”
— The Furrow,
Organ of Maynooth College,
Ireland’s leading seminary.
1954.
White surplice on the long, blood red soutane,
Lieutenant at the Mass — “’Tis the holy b’y”
I am! Blue scented smoke ascends like a cry:
I swing the chain-held charcoal-firing pan.
The smell of incense, candles, wax and wine;
Lost medals, beads and missals piled in store;
Marble, brocade, brass, flowers; priests galore;
The Life Eternal: Mankind and God entwine!
Infant Jesus, Mother Mary, Joseph - all
Life caught, transfixed, inverted: let us pray
To Christ The King: sweet Saviour, we are clay!
Help us, migrating, not stray beyond your call.
II
Vengeful God, subversive Satan: desire;
The man-God crucified: Death like a bell!
Self-resurrecting Saviour, Heaven, Hell:
Baptism, Last Judgment — sin: eternal fire!
The Body and Blood of Jesus, bread and wine:
The finite, infinite, Death made a liar;
Pray for the Holy Souls in purging fire;
Faith, Hope, dear God, and Charity, be mine!
The Father, Son and Holy Ghost in one,
Both God and man: self-worship and self murder.
Eternal God, and bone and flesh: Great Herder,
Guide our steps to Heaven, this life done!
Peter, Christ’s Vicar, Rock of Popes: priest-rite,
Church, human and Divine: Dogma and yearning;
The sin of Eve and Adam; endless burning:
Mother of God, intercede against the night!
III
The Age of Reason: First Communion Day;
Route maps to Heaven: Confirmation rite,
Cleansing Confession — learn to self-indict!
God comfort us in death's sure disarray!
All powerful Mass-caste: Absolution; nuns;
And Mystery — Three Persons in One God —
Not to be grasped by reason, Faith unshod:
Pray for The North, where heretics have guns.
St Patrick, Bridget, all those gone before;
The Way to the Cross: the Via Dolorosa;
And holy water; Christ, Gael-named Iosa:
Faith of our fathers, lore of Erin's gore.
Brown scapulars, Miraculous Medals; cold
Communion, kneeling; bright uplifted grail,
In spite of fire, jail, sword: praise the Gael,
God’s blessed, old, indomitable fold!
Pray that God’s own people will endure:
For God and Ireland! Faith and Fatherland,
Where Iosa, Lord of Hosts is in command:
Gallows, Mass rocks, Christ’s conquering allure.
Carnations, lilies; Blood upon The Cross:
Good Friday — kiss the Blessed Wounds of Christ!
Midnight Mass at Christmas; all life a quest
For Grace: the crucified God reclaims your loss.
Retreats and Confraternities: a misty
Sea of flame, candle in every hand,
Renouncing Satan's "works and pomps", we stand:
Counting gleaned candles in the Sacristy.
The smell of incense, candles, wax and wine;
Lost medals, beads and missals piled in store;
Marble, brocade, brass, flowers; priests galore;
The Life Eternal, Mankind and God entwine!
IV
Four Sunday Masses, sleepy-eyed from bed;
Face-slapping priests; shoe-fights in the sacristy;
Adeste Fidelis: march at Corpus Christi;
Marriages, funerals, Masses for the dead.
In Nomine Patri; church-Latin at eight:
Proud hucksters’ sons, and farmers’, mis-plac'd prole
(A token two of us from National School);
Children, help priests to Transubstantiate.
Town ladies fixing flowers; counting poor
Folks’ pennies; winter mornings in the dark;
Bishop like God; Brennan, the kind cowed Clerk;
De Regge, choir master: organ music's soar.
I chanted answers to the priest by rote
In long-set Latin words half understood;
Helped priests to dress as antique Romans would:
Rites old and set, fixed as in creosote.
I clanged the bell, not always timed on call;
Lifted the lectern-held ornate great Book
Across the altar: backwards, down you took
The steps, then up (too small, I let it fall!).
I held the silvered paten out to seize
And save our bread made God, should He slide out
And down from some poor palsied, broken mouth:
I saw blind Dev there, cower on his knees.
The smell of incense, candles, wax and wine;
Lost medals, beads and missals piled in store;
Marble, brocade, brass, flowers; priests galore;
The Life Eternal: Mankind and God entwine!
V
Vengeful God, subversive Satan: desire;
The man-God crucified: Death like a bell!
Self-resurrecting Saviour, Heaven, Hell:
Baptism, Last Judgment — sin: eternal fire!
Peter, God’s Vicar, Rock of Popes: Church-rite
To Die, or Live, by: Dogma, Tradition, yearning;
The Heritage of Sin — and endless burning:
Mother of God, intercede against the night!
The smell of incense, candles, wax and wine;
Lost medals, beads and missals piled in store;
Marble, brocade, brass, flowers; priests galore;
The Life Eternal: Mankind and God entwine!
White surplice to the long blood-red soutane,
Lieutenants at the Mass — “’Tis the holy b’ys",
We were! Dark masking smoke, cascading lies:
I swing the chain-held insense-firing pan.