‘The Father,’ by Father Antony Brennan

We are familiar in our journeys to Europe of visiting places and shrines where startling and mystical things have taken place. Places of pilgrimage such as Padre Pio’s town where that great saint lived out his priestly life with the stigmata. We marvel at the miracles done which are so beyond what we can even imagine.

What would happen if, in a little, very ordinary, small country town, a mysterious priest takes up residence in a falling down, decrepit shell of a church? Curiosity would run rife. If the priest, who has no name but, ‘Father’, shuts himself in with a high fence surrounding the building and grounds, and whose only companion is a little mongrel dog – the priest becomes the main topic of conversation in the area.

The villagers know the old church; it has been there forever but has been shut since before most of them were born. The women, with little to talk about, find their ‘silent priest’ bewildering and try their hardest to find out about him; what he does all day, what he wears, what he eats, They try leaving food, for the dog, in the bucket hanging near the tall front gate and if they spot him doing his bit of shopping in the main street – where there are a few basic shops – he speaks softly, tells them nothing, but is always courteous, keeps his eyes down and blesses them. He is occasionally visited by some great personage in a big black car with darkened windows and bearing a crest on the side door.

The villagers are now completely mystified. What is this man? Is he a lunatic? A vagabond? Someone on the run? No one lives like this! When the first public Mass takes place, events occur that sends the simple, good, ordinary, locals into hysterics. People scream; some swear fearfully, some faint, some run for cover out of the church never to return, while some take it and accept it. Some even begin to understand it. What would you do?

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