For several weeks in late January and early February, I spent a lot of time at the bedside of a strapping 19-year-old athlete who was unconscious after a swimming mishap at a resort in Thailand. He never regained consciousness and died as a result of multiple organ failure. A great deal of my time was spent accompanying the boy’s family though this agony. Eventually I returned to Australia with his body for the Requiem. It was an exhausting experience. The funeral attracted 2000 mourners. Most of them seemed to be younger than 20 — an age where death has no palpable reality to it and when the myth of indestructibility is alive and well. Here was its firm rebuttal: Our lives spin on sixpence, as the boy’s mother told me during our watch in Bangkok. After the ceremony, I scarpered. I couldn’t take it any more and we still had the burial ahead. But as I fled, an old friend — a senior Federal politician with whom I’ve crossed swords on occasion — came up and gave me a hug. ‘Mick, that was just the best: you did a wonderful job for Joe and his family,’ said my generous friend. He added: ‘You’ve gone up in my estimation.’ Struck dumb, I said thanks and continued my escape. I thought to myself that there is only one profession with lower social esteem these days than a Catholic priest and that is a politician. - Father Michael Kelly SJ FULL ARTICLE Fixing the priesthood (Eureka Street)