The Early Days
ON THE morning on February 22nd., 1948, as the snow lay deeply
on the ground, I was born in St. Mary's hospital in Thurles, Co.
Tipperary. A few days later, my father, grandmother and two
relatives, who would be my Godparents, brought me to the
Cathedral of the Assumption, where one of the local priests
baptised me, welcoming me into the Roman Catholic Church.
I was given the names Richard Joseph. I was called after my
Grandfather on my father's side, Richard ( Dick) Keogh, an
ex-army man, who had been badly wounded in action in Flanders. I
was also called after St. Joseph the worker, husband of the
Blessed Virgin Mary.
For many generations our family had been devout Roman
Catholics. One of my father's ancestors had opened her home to be
used as a chapel, where mass was said regularly. My mother was a
very devout worshipper of Mary, the Mother of Perpetual Succour,
and was very much involved in saying Novenas and the Rosary. As
we were growing up, mother would gather us all together each
evening, after tea, and we would kneel down and say the Rosary to
the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mother also had great devotion to the
Sacred Heart of Jesus. In our kitchen hung a picture of the
Sacred Heart, with the names of all our family members written on
it, as the whole family had been dedicated to the Sacred Heart.
As in most Irish homes, it was my mother who was responsible
for the religious practices in our home. My father was a
hard-working man, supporting his family by working every hour he
could. Like his father before him, he was employed by the Irish
Sugar Company, and specialised as a sugar-cook during the yearly
sugar beet campaigns. He was a member of the Holy Family
Confraternity, an organisation of men who met together weekly,
and who had dedicated themselves to the worship of Jesus, Mary
and Joseph, known collectively as 'The Holy Family.' The members
of the Confraternity said the Prayer of Commendation every time
they met. The following words were recited: "Jesus, Mary and
Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul; Jesus, Mary and Joseph,
assist me in my last agony; Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I breathe
forth my soul in peace with you, Amen." My father also
attended retreats at the Redemptorist Retreat House in Limerick,
participating in times of prayer, meditation and instruction.
When I was five years old, my school days began at the local
convent, where I was taught by the nuns of the Presentation
Order. The main objective of my time with the nuns was to prepare
me for my First Confession and First Communion. At seven years of
age I was practising in school how to make my first confession,
telling my sins to the nun who was teaching me. Then, one day,
she took us to the Chapel, and for the first time in my life I
entered a Confessional box. Although this was only a practice
run, I was very nervous as I knelt in the dark confessional box,
waiting for the priest to open the slide and listen as I
confessed my sins. Not only was I confessing my sins to the
priest, but to many others, also. I had to say the prayer called
'The Confiteor'. I had memorised the words: "I confess to
Almighty God, to Blessed Mary ever a virgin, to Blessed Michael
the Archangel, to Blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles
Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, that I have sinned
exceedingly in thought, word and deed; through my fault, through
my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore, I beseech
the Blessed Virgin Mary, Blessed Michael the Archangel, Blessed
John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the
Saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me."
Finally, the big day came and I, as a seven year old, knelt
before the priest, confessing my sins and asking him to forgive
me. I was hoping all the time that I would not forget any of the
sins that I had committed. I wanted to have them all forgiven, as
I knew how important my first confession was. I was so relieved
when the priest said to me: "I absolve you from your sins,
in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost." He told me to say a certain number of Hail, Marys
for my Penance, and, as I knelt before the Altar in the Chapel
saying these prayers, I was really delighted that the priest had
forgiven all the sins I had committed in thought, word and deed.
Now I was ready to receive my first Communion. My parents bought
a new suit, shirt, tie, shoes and socks for me. A new First
Communion prayer book/missal, a set of rosary beads and a special
medal also had to be provided. I had to fast from midnight until
eleven o'clock the following day, and then I knelt at the
altar-rails and received from the Archbishop the host, or wafer,
which he placed on my tongue, as he said the words; "the
Body of Christ".
I had been instructed that what I would be receiving in
Communion was not, in fact, bread, but that the priest had, by
the act of Transubstantiation, transformed bread and wine into
the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. So, I believed I was, in
fact, receiving Christ on my First Communion day.
Shortly after receiving my First Communion, I attended the
Christian Brothers' School. Over the next five years I was
prepared for my Confirmation. Again, a new suit had to be bought,
and my parents made every effort to ensure I would be 'well
turned out' on this big day in my life. At school, we had
practised a number of hymns, which we would sing in Latin at the
Confirmation service. I remember the Archbishop anointing me with
oil, which was a symbol of the Holy Spirit, who would, according
to our religion book, make me a strong and perfect Christian, and
a soldier of Jesus Christ.
Some months after receiving my confirmation, I attended the
Christian Brothers' Secondary School. I remember a missionary
priest visiting the school, and talking to us about dedicating
our lives to God by becoming a priest or a Christian Brother. A
few of us showed some interest in this possibility of a vocation,
and talked privately with the priest. He also gave some
literature to us, which contained a lot of information concerning
Religious Orders. I discussed it all with my parents, who were
very helpful and supportive. But, after a lot of consideration, I
decided that I did not have a 'calling' to the religious life.
Even though I was taught at school by the nuns and Christian
Brothers, in the Chapel by the priest, and at home, by my
parents, that the Roman Catholic Church was the 'One True
Church,' I, as a member of that Church, had no assurance of
salvation. While I had been instructed that: 'outside the Roman
Catholic Church there is no salvation,' yet, I knew from
experience that inside that same Church I, as a devout,
practising member, had no assurance that all was well between God
and me. In fact, I knew I was no different than my school-friend,
who was a member of a Protestant Church, for both of us were
HOPING we would get to Heaven one day. Membership of the Church,
attendance at mass and the sacraments, participation in weekend
retreats, fasting, self-denial, doing my best, etc., all failed
to give me the assurance that when I died I would go to Heaven.
So, I was searching, as I was not satisfied with just hoping all
would be well in the end.
After leaving the Christian Brothers' School, I attended the
Vocational School. One of my favourite subjects was woodwork,
which I would continue after I left school and got a job.
Religion was also one of my favourite subjects at school and,
though some of the parables of Jesus were included in our
religious education books, I cannot remember the Bible ever being
used in any of the schools I attended. I often wondered why this
was so, as I had always believed the Bible to be God's Word.
When I was growing up we were not encouraged to read the
Scriptures and, if we did, we were not allowed to interpret them.
All of our teaching was to come through the Church. According to
our 'Summary of Christian Doctrine:' "We are bound,
moreover, to believe whatever God teaches us by His holy Church,
who in her teaching cannot deceive us nor be deceived. Her
teaching is, amongst other ways, infallibly made known to us by
the Pope, when he speaks 'ex-Cathedra.'" So, all of our
teaching, including the interpretation of the Scriptures, was to
come through the Church.
I had read in one of the history books of how, at one time,
the Bible was declared to be a 'Forbidden Book', by the Roman
Catholic Church and that, in fact, the public burning of the
Scriptures had been authorised by the Pope, and carried out by
his loyal subjects. "Why did this happen? What is in the
Bible? What is there to be afraid of? Why were the 'ordinary'
people not allowed to read it", I asked myself? Cranmer,
Ridley, Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox and Zwingli were
all names that appeared in our history books. The name Martin
Luther was associated with the Protestant Reformation and
'Justification by Faith'. According to our teachers, these men,
along with many other like-minded Reformers, were 'heretics'.
Now, I had a certain amount of admiration for these 'heretics',
for it was obvious that they had a great love for the Scriptures.
God's Word meant so much to them that some of them were willing
to suffer severe persecution as a result of their efforts to
bring the light of the gospel to those who dwelt in the darkness
of superstition and tradition. Some of the 'heretics' were
martyred, and had gone to their deaths declaring a personal,
saving faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. They faced death in the
full assurance that they had been justified by God. I said to
myself: "These people were not just hoping they would go to
Heaven; they were sure they would." Here I was, about to
leave school, longing to have that same assurance.
‡ "A Simple Prayer Book," p. 75.
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