I spent hours yesterday clearing  bindweed and brambles, ivy and other nuisances in our garden, whch had originated in what was for centuries part of an ancient convent. Our house was built in 1923 and we have lived in it since 1976 when we were the youngest couple on the road

When we moved in there was a giant cooking- pear tree in the back, nearly fifty foot high. In bloom it looked like a lantern. 

But it died and rotted, was cut up  enough. left to rot and help to nourish further growth. 

The magnolia tree, already mature when we arrived, throws  shade over a pergola we had built and over the grapevines which protect us from the noonday sun. 

Within the last ten years the wind blew in seeds which produced an ash tree and a holly tree which shot up vertically for thirty feet and are still thriving and we have sundry other trees including a fig tree.  I consider myself blessed by nature and luck. Our mortgage was paid off on my 60th birthday and the value our property has multiplied more than forty times. Only two full-time bank robbers working round the clock could afford it today.

In my 47 years here I never encountered nettles or dock-leaves until yesterday. I had first seen these in our garden on the Hill of Howth over 80 years ago.

 As they invariably grow together I thought this could be no accident and indicates intelligent design by nature’s Creator. 

And that there must be countless similar twinning of poisonous and healing agents in the natural world.

This morning (28 May) I read AN IRISH DIARY–The Mushroom Revolution – Edible Fungi by Fionnuala Ward. 

It confirmed my speculation and I recommend it for your speculation.

For some time I’ve held onto my religious faith like “holding on to Nurse, for fear of finding something worse.”

On Trinity Sunday some of the readings and the Psalms apparently gloried in Genocide.

I cannot warm to the Old Testament God whom Scripture presents as a capricious

tyrant on an ego trip. Adam and Eve are shown the Tree of Knowledge and warned to rejoice in Ignorance.

 Abraham is ordered to murder his son. And we are to admire his refusal not to tell the tyrant to  take a running jump. 

And we are expected to believe in talking serpents.

Did St Patrick tell the Irish, who had never seen a serpent, that story?

 I doubt it because Christian missionaries were not martyred in those days.

My own idea of Heaven is of a Tir na nOg where we revert to our youth and meet our old friends and new ones, all young.

I would not want to change places with a God, sentenced to  listen to zillions of decades of the rosary for eternity. 

It would bore the pants off me.












2 Responses to FROM HERE TO ETERNITY AND HONEST TO GOD – by Donal Kennedy

  1. Nosuchanaplace May 29, 2024 at 8:23 am #

    The noon day sun that you need shelter from?

  2. Paul Woods May 29, 2024 at 8:36 am #

    Two full time bank robbers (Class)