It is one of the most well known Irish laments. There are no words to it and yet it is one of the most hauntingly, beautiful and engaging of melodies in the Irish repertoire. Few words can begin to describe the effect it can have when played in the silence of a home. It reveals to mind images of dark, mist covered mountains, lakes absent of life, of years past, of friends, family, and fellow country men once strong with life. We’re reminded of the hustle and bustle of crowded hallways, houses filled with laughter, children, warmth and song. We can’t help but be drawn in. It stills us and we dwell. There sighs an ancient voice in that melody, a voice that whispers across generations to allure us away from our contemporary concerns in our progressive world to connect to a language deep within us, a dialect comprehended only by our hearts.
I sat strumming my guitar tonight in our living room and I began to whistle the melody to the chords. Until then my five-year-old daughter had been jumping around on one of the sofa seats and throwing herself upside down and in all sorts of directions as little kids do. Yet as soon as I started to whistle I noticed something change in her. Within seconds she sat still and began to stare in the direction of our Christmas tree, off into some absent distance. This continued as I moved through verse to chorus to verse and she never moved but seemed to become lost in some far off thought or emotion. It got me thinking about what is was that made this music so popular and so powerful to so many.
In Ireland we are well aware of the fragility of life. Our history is filled with stories of love and laughter giving way to parting and sorrow. Dancing, singing and playing music often gives way to images of coffin ships, prisons, wakes and funerals. As a people, our families have been traditionally strong, virtuous, pure, and close with an unbreakable spirit. Yet we hold a history of happiness fleeting, momentary glimpses of what we could be and then, ultimately, what couldn’t be, at least not forever.
And therein lies the reality of the music and the reality of life. There is love, and a great love at that, in family and friends and sharing of moments together but, ultimately, it does not last and one moment gives way to the next and as time erodes our laughter we eventually come to the realization that we ‘have had’ and because of time we ‘have lost.’ As time passes, we leave behind good times and people, who grow older, move on and we are left with ourselves. It is a lonely thought and one that is captured well in this lament.
I am not here though to beckon you a message of doom and gloom. Despite the loneliness, there happens to be a great hope that should fill us with the greatest of all joys. This is a joy that is seldom realized by many men in Ireland anymore yet it is the most vital of joys to realize because it would inform every breath we take, every thought, word and action to drive us on to goodness and greatness. This is the joy of knowing that what is open for us to grasp, if we only accept, is an eternity of those joy filled moments we remember in life the most. Those moments are infinitely greater than what we have experienced on earth and, what more, the last forever. We will be with those we love forever. We will have everything we have had on earth and more.
It is no lie that heaven is real. In heaven we will have glorified bodies and we will live in a material glorified new earth with sky and land and sea. Those who make it there will be with us including all those we loved on earth. We will have music, songs, stories and the many things we enjoyed on earth, except that we will have a superior appreciation of them. There will be worship of the King and praise for His greatness and so much thankfulness for the mercy He has provided in allowing us to be there.
The idealistic beauty of Ireland, that we all love and identify with, the mountains, rivers, valleys and culture, are only a shadowy reflection of the perfection that will follow. This is open to us if we make it there and let me be clear – making it there can be the only option because the alternative is too terrible to even utter. Ireland is beautiful because its Christian heritage has made it beautiful. The union of the people, the love, the simple, humble way of life has emerged out of hearts united to Jesus in the Holy Eucharist and a deep devotion to our Blessed Mother.
Christianity is for men. It is for is for young and old, male and female but men are especially called to lead their wives and families; this is our call and duty as men, to direct all our loved ones to heaven. If we fail in that mission, then we may very well fail to achieve that greatness of heaven and we may not see many of our loved ones there either. This is no trivial thing. This is life and death, nothing else matters on this earth and we must rise to the fight for the good of those we love.
As my daughter sat in silence staring into the distance I realized the great and grave responsibility placed on my shoulders. I realize that, though I love her and enjoy every second I spend with her, one day she would grow up and move on. I know that even though I am young I will one day also, with my wife, grow old and move on. I understand that though now I enjoy the times and memories we are making that ultimately all that is nothing but something that someday I will only look back on and yearn for. The only thing that matters on earth is my duty to direct my family to heaven. They must achieve eternity on my watch, because that is where we can be together and every tear will be wiped away. I cannot bear the thought of failing this mission and entering heaven to find that not all those I love made it. I never want my lack of action to result in that outcome.
The Lonesome Boatman, I believe, captures a raw truth of our existence. We live in a lonely world because time means that everything changes and ultimately ends. Heaven never changes, Christ never changes and He never moves away. It is the only constant and sure thing. He is all we can rely on. If only we realized what is to come we would never be off our knees.
“A man is never more a man than when he is on his knees before God”
(Click to Listen to The Lonesome Boatman)
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