Tommy Tiernan

On the consolations of the Bible

I’m reading the Bible, finding sentences here and there that offer meaning.

“Tarry ye here in Jerusalem.” This was Jesus after he rose from the dead and appeared to the apostles, and they were wondering what to do with themselves. “Stall it here, sham” is what he was saying to them. “No need to go rushing off anywhere. Everything you could possibly want is here. There is nothing that you need to achieve; you don’t have to be unique. What you are is good enough. Tarry ye here in Galway; in Moate; Tubercurry; and Muff.

“Gather up all the little fragments so that none may be lost.”

He was talking to Philip — I think around the time of the miracle of the loaves and fishes — looking for crumbs to make a feast. A philosophy of inclusion. There is no person so slight or irrelevant that we don’t need them. The banquet of life will not be made entirely from superstars; it’ll arise from the debris. From the marginalised and powerless. The little fragments of creation, too. Ants and bees, fireflies and ticks. Every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

Sister Stan for the Aras

“In so much as ye do it to the least of my brothers, ye do it to me.”

What a great mantra for a president or taoiseach to have. Sister Stan for the Aras! Peter McVerry for everything else. A constituency of the weak. A government of love. Sure, why not ?

I don’t think that we’d have a problem with biblical conviction if the fruits of it were sweet, but often times they’re not. It can come out as bigotry. Jesus said a lot of things, but one of the things he never said was that if two people are kissing and they both have willies, well, one of them had better cop on fairly quick.

I also think that you can legalise abortion and be Christian. The State can provide services that the individual is free to choose or not. Let every person be a nation unto themselves in this regard. Freedom of choice is what God gave us.

Religious autocracy is oppressive. We cannot abdicate responsibility for our decision-making to a text written two thousand years ago. We must, in good faith, choose wisely now.

And what about blasphemy? Are there certain things that we should hold as sacred? Perhaps. They have a holy mountain in the middle of Australia that no one is supposed to climb, and we have triathlons racing up and down Croagh Patrick. These are the frictions that we live with. There is no map. Just a constant engagement with circumstance.

The cul-de-sac of crack

Religious certainty is a mesmerising thing to encounter, because it seems so sure of itself. The evangelicals up North are a hypnotic bunch. I was driving up there recently, and came across a sign by the side of the road that read: Prepare to Meet Thy Maker. Why couldn’t they have Dangerous Bend Ahead, like every other place on Earth?

All certainty is a refuge. The mind can rest for a while behind slogans and dogma. Marxist, capitalist, Catholic, whatever. It sounds very attractive to start with, but rings thin after a while.

Doubt is harder to live with, but more fruitful in the end. It leads to wonder. “I don’t know” ends up with “Wow”. Certainty is a cul-de-sac of crack. “I told you so” leads to “I told you so”. I’d rather be with the thick phuckers down the back of the class going “wow”.

I’m not sure I have faith

You could choose any book, I suppose, and read it in such a way that you project meaning on to it, but the Bible does seem to speak with authority. Toxic at times, for sure, and, as Moriarty suggested, no harm at times to be in collision with it.

What marks it out though, as a text worth meditating upon, is the hope and the previous experience of others that you don’t just encounter yourself when doing so. That somehow the miracle of it is, that, independent of your own will and projections, you uncover a presence both outside of, and at the same time within, yourself. I think, maybe. I’m not sure, but I have faith for the moment.

I’ve probably contradicted myself here a few times; maybe I don’t make much sense at all, but truth be told, I can’t help myself. Rubbish expands to fill whatever space is available to it. It’s in my nature to waffle on, and then afterwards have a nap. No conclusions are permanent.

That would seem to be the adventure.