Memories of Parents - Images of God

Summary of a Fr. Gerry Creedon homily from June 12, 2005

"You are worth more than many sparrows" Matt 30.

After a niece's wedding recently my oldest sister Teresa took it upon herself to offer a free family psychoanalysis. She reflected on the various ways our father related to his 14 children. He was close and effortlessly affectionate with his four daughters. He was brutally strict with his older sons, especially the eldest, thinking that we might end up as wild as some of his own brothers! A few sons he never would look in the eye or felt at ease with. With a few he shared a drink and a joke. One could do no wrong. According to Teresa he 'respected' my brother Dominic and myself. I wondered whether that was a compliment or not. I thought maybe it meant that we had the courage to stand up to him.

It is curious that the same parent could be seen so differently.

The way we see our parents often influences our image of God. I sometimes think that Latinos and Irish people have a spirituality in common. We are not sure of the Old Man, the Father, so we tend to direct our requests to Mary, the mother, who will always love and listen. She will communicate for us, because there is no pleasing Him...

In my own case, I have nothing but fond memories of my father.

What impressed me most is how he treated others. My mother loved to pack us all into the family car on a Sunday afternoon. We would take off to Bantry or Killarney and get away from the stresses and strains of business and the neighbors. However we sometimes did not get far. In those precarious times in Ireland we would often find another driver broken down on the road side. Within minutes Da would be stretched under a stranger's car until he fixed it with his magic touch, because he was somewhat of a mechanic. These interruptions were not received favorably by Ma Creedon. But what would drive her insane was his insistence in taking care of any drunk that was found in the ditch of the road. Johnny Creedon would take them to a local farmhouse, and stop to inquire as to whether they were alive or dead on the way home. My mother would fume.

All of this made me think that the Story of the Good Samaritan, when I read it, described a pale imitation of my father.

Recently I came across a book "The life of other days" written by an editor of the Irish Examiner, Tim Cramer. It has a chapter on Inchigeela my home village that ends with a tribute to my father, that I will make my own this Father's Day.

"My last meeting with Johnny was some years ago when I had taken my eldest son on a fishing trip to the area. Typically he was busy with the mill, hotel or post office when we arrived, but not too busy to chat and to phone a friend to find out where the best fishing was to be had. It was neither's fault that we caught nothing that day, except in my case a distinct whiff of nostalgia.

Soon afterwards came the sad news that Johnny had died suddenly, the great heart had pounded its last, that mighty frame of bull strength lay still. It is enough to say that at the funeral, the village could not contain everybody who came; the many thousands who had been touched by the man and his great spirit. Let his epitaph be this: that he cared for all who came his way with boundless generosity, that he introduced us to a way of life and a host of people who enriched us all, that he made this old world a better place for all who knew him, and that he gave us all a lesson in Christian living that we shall never forget."

At his funeral a good friend, Bishop John Buckely, remarked to me, "I was never at a burial where so many people came up to me to tell me that they were the best friend of the deceased." He said he thought he knew the reason,"Your father affirmed other people".

Affirmation is the theme of this Sunday's Gospel. "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge... So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows". God's love confers to us a dignity. That love is mediated to us not only by our mothers but by our fathers as well. So let us forgive whatever grudges we hold this day so that we can acknowledge and give thanks for the life and love we have received from our fathers.

In Gerard M. Hopkins words: "He fathers forth whose beauty is beyond fade, Praise Him".