Ireland is a unique country in that there is special and immense national pride and passion in all things Irish. When we announce to another person, “I am Irish”, that phrase packs an enormous punch. It slices to the core of our very being. In those three words you are communicating to the other your communality with the heart of mother earth itself.
Ireland, and being Irish, encompasses so much that is good, ancient and, dare I say, spiritual. Ireland is songs and stories and history. It is beautiful mountains, forests, fields and streams. We take pride in our writers and poets, heroes of old, kings, queens, legends, history rich in Irish dignity, respect, strength, tragedy, bravery, power, loss, division, grief. I love Ireland and I am proud to lay claim to being born upon the land, which allows me to carry with me life-long the title “Irish”. It is almost as though I take upon myself all that I have mentioned. I seem to own the history, the songs the stories, the art, the writing, the poetry, the land, the heroes, the people with their idiosyncrasies and also their simplicity. That is mine. I take pride in all of it, as though it belonged to me, as though it were intrinsic to my very being, my humanity, deeply embedded in my lifeblood. And it belongs to me because I am Irish and I am in love with being Irish, with Ireland.
Now it occurred to me recently that one of the great experiences of being Irish is the desire to enjoy the company of others and to give yourself, body and soul to a conversation with another. I wonder do we, as people, continue to take that longing seriously? To sit and simply enjoy the company of another person with their conversation, their interests, their similarities and their differences from us, has the potential to be as exciting as exploring a beautiful Irish landscape with it’s old stone houses and hills, rivers and streams. If we think about it, a short time with an person, as a human being, can be every bit as satisfying as sitting on the edge of a cliff side in Donegal searching and encountering the awe inspiring Atlantic Ocean. Am I wise?
I truly believe that nothing can be said for a genuine experience of another person. To be truthful, just as a woman can enjoy the company of another woman, “God forbid”, so too can a man enjoy the company of another man. I venture to use the word beautiful, mysterious, mystifying, to describe that openness to good friendship.
As a young boy I remember driving around the countryside with my grandfather in his battered old yellow Ford Cortina. A child I was and I longed to understand this man in my life who I looked up to and sought to emulate. He held a masculine calm. He portrayed a calculated reserved disposition, which intrigued me so, in contrast to me who was so eager to express and convey my inner emotional life to all who would take notice. He would take me to the homes of his friends, and there, by their fires, over tea, I would watch and listen to them collaborate for hours as I soaked up every word, every facial expression, every hand gesture and every cryptic silence that communicated more than I could ever have imagined. It was a mysterious dance and I longed to know it as each set of two men merged their minds in ways only men do.
As I grew, I continued to witness those similar interactions between my father and my uncles, my father and his friends, my uncles and the world. These men became my role models containing all their faults and yet holding serenely to their trials, strength and humanity. They possessed a contemplative wisdom and emotional mastery, often in the face of strife and upheaval. As I look back upon it today, I know and see their weaknesses, but I see also what made them who they were – men – and I feel pride. I feel proud to be known as their kin, not only because I am related to them by blood, but because, like them, I too am now a man. I have been graced to learn, integrate, and make my own, the masculine witness they provided. Their creative strength, their desire to give of themselves, their competitive silence I now embrace. I do so though with a very stark awareness of what I now possess.
As I sit now with my male companions sipping tea or enjoying a small sip of whisky, I am taken back to the old days when my masculine foundations were laid. There is nothing greater to a young boy, than to receive the nod of approval from the men in his life. In turn, there is nothing more devastating to a young boy than to have that nod withheld. To see your father smile upon your achievements is nothing short of seeds cultivated, as a platform is laid for a young man to emerge and progress forward to adulthood confident in the affirmation that he is supported. To know that you have a man, who will fight for your right to develop into the person God has ordained you to become, is the greatest liberty a child can possess, a gift of freedom to ‘become’. A blessing from God the Father through my own Father, from his father, to me. Nothing is more precious.
As Irish men and fathers, let us remember today our duty to give our masculine witness to our sons and the next generation of boys. Masculinity is strength, but it is strength that comes with great responsibility. We can be strong and use that strength for our own selfish ends or we can be strong and use that strength to nurture those under our care toward greatness and heaven. Our strength has been gifted to us, let us gift it to others for their good, not ours. Teach what is good and wholesome, true. Teach young men their duty to woman, to child, the duty to give – to death if necessary. In this way Ireland will be forever great!
The greatest power we have as men is to give for others. Let us support each other in that goal so that we, and our male children can be proud of embracing, not only the title “Irish”, but also the title “Man”. God bless us in this mission!
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