A Scented Moment

A Reflection on Diocesan Priesthood in Ireland for Holy Thursday 2020. Due to the Covid-19
Pandemic there is no Chrism Mass and hence no Blessing of Oils


A Scented Moment


We were good men once. We were believed in.
We gave till nothing more could be given, now all has been taken.
Once we cultivated, built, funded, fought,
Now queue we like children at a dated fairground
Seeking momentary thrill and excitement,
An escape from banality and worthlessness.


Once we had authority given by sacred oil that dripped
Into our every pore now authority, even that of service, is gone,
Stolen in the darkest night, leaving only a bare and disgruntled dawn.
Where to look for that which is lost – no one knows
And the gulf is filled with incompetent grunts and silver tongued syllables.


That which served God has become the god and all is lost.
A new way where oil is poured fresh and new to heal painful pores.
Where the relief of joy
Forces open the fullness of the Promise from He who is promise fulfilled
Where is that jar of hope?
Where is the oil of gladness?
Oh for a momentary scent of what could be.
That scented moment might let us begin again.


Alan Hilliard, April 2020 @therevhilliard

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