12 April 2012

Absolution

Liam O’Donnel sauntered jauntily out of the Ram’s Head pub to the sound of the church bells pealing the announcement for Saturday afternoon Mass. Liam was not necessarily a religious man, but it was a cold afternoon and he had run out of money and credit and patience by barman Bill Ryan so he steered his way toward the church doors and settled somewhat noisily onto the back pew. The church was sparsely attended with the majority being older widows in black clanking the beads of their rosary awaiting the entrance of Father Fitzpatrick. Their revery disturbed by Liam’s entrance, they each turned with a sniff as they looked back over their shoulders at the smiling, slightly swaying man at the rear.

Heads then shook in disapproval as they bowed back down into their breviary.

Father Fitz opened the door on the left of the alter from his sacristy and strode out onto the small raised platform containing the rather plain wooden altar that in current form, faced the parishioners. Behind him gleamed the large brass tabernacle on the thick marble stone altar that dated from the church’s founding several hundred years back. But times had changed and the resources of the small parish did not allow much money for spending on furnishings or much of anything for the upkeep of the building itself. Father Fitz preferred using what meager money that came in from the donations to help those in the parish who really needed it, rather than replaster and paint and upgrade the furnishings.

He had now been in the parish over 40 years, having been forgotten by the archbishop in Dublin and not interested in any of the political games that had to be played within the hierarchy to move up to larger, richer parishes or important canonical positions. He was content with his life among people he had known helping as he could, just being there for them in all their trials and passages through life. He baptized and buried as his parishoners came and went. He enjoyed his small corner of the Irish countryside and the religious life that left him mostly to his own entertainments when not “in collar”. He wandered the countryside, fishing equipment always at hand and contemplated the meaning of life, or not, while sitting under a shade tree along side a stream.

And in fact, Father Fitz and Liam, rather often shared these same interests. Liam, a jack of all trades, and interested in none found only enough handyman jobs in the community to keep him in enough standing at the Ram’s Head to enable the fairly constant glow alchohol provided. Food was always available from the streams he expertly fished, in and out of season, hare’s caught, vegetables purloined from neighborhood gardens in the night and donations of bread from the occasional patron of one of his handyman trades.

Of course, each time he found a job, usually with one of the widows who were so disdainful of his entrance into the church, they would urge him to change his ways and to avoid wasting his money on drink and try to be more like Father Fitz.

But in fact, Father Fitz enjoyed his time with Liam and they could often be found sitting along a stream, pole in hand but under no attention, entertaining each other with tales from their life and the people they knew. Father Fitz knew that all the older ladies never had a kind word about Liam, or anyone else for that matter. He heard their confessions and knew each week it would be the same as the last. Asking absolution for their shrewishness toward their husband or anger at the neighbor who was sleeping with someone from the next town. And he knew that despite their piety at mass, they would be just the same at the first opportunity outside the church doors.

Actually Father Fitz had a fairly benign attitude towards the “he-ing and she-ing” that went on in the community. He tried not to be too judgmental because he know that the harder he approached those in delecto, the more they would avoid him. He tried to urge patience and understanding along with faithfulness at home and in church. It was not a style adopted by most priests and certainly not approved by the shrews in the village. For them punishment and damnation was always called for, except for themselves of course.

As the mass progressed, Liam began to get engaged in the call and response that now is the modern mass. It is an effort to make the mass more of a participant exercise rather than a play that is repeated in front of the attendees. And by the time of the Gloria, Liam’s baritone was in fine form carrying over the thin wail of the elderly sopranos.

Then it was time for the Sermon and Father Fitz walked to the center of the platform in front of the Altar and began to preach about charity and speaking well of one another. He could see his words falling on deaf ears of the parishioners who were closed to thoughts of goodness. Then from in the back Liam rose, lifting himself slowly to full height. As he headed back out into the evening, he called back, “That’s not how you talked about all these people over our bottle of whisky this morning while we watched McGullicutty sneak out of the Widow Jame’s house”.