Thought for the week: The benefit of having friendships across the religious divide

​A best-seller in the United States was a book - 'All I needed to know I learned in kindergarten'. It basically said when you went out, hold hands and look out for each other. If I were to write something similar it would have to be “Most of what I needed to know I learned in an Ulster linen mill village”.
​Rev Dr Houston McKelvey OBE, Church of Ireland​Rev Dr Houston McKelvey OBE, Church of Ireland
​Rev Dr Houston McKelvey OBE, Church of Ireland
By ​Rev Dr Houston McKelvey
Published 22nd Jan 2024, 15:56 BST
Updated 22nd Jan 2024, 16:10 BST

​Muckamore on the banks of the Sixmile River nurtured the first third of my life. Like many other linen mill villages, cricket, pigeon racing, church and school featured. I was born in the middle of the Second World War. There were six births that year. All were wee lads and five of us lived in a row of houses about 20 yards from the river. I can easily reel off our birthday dates.

I was number four in the year and number five was John McCormack whose contribution to cricket I was more than delighted to see was recognised recently by the Northern Cricket Union. This year also happens to be the 150th anniversary of Muckamore Cricket Club. John, like his late father Paddy, are rightly held in the highest regard by the club and community. Their family shaped my life and ministry. They then were the only Roman Catholic family in the village. As a youngster I was frequently in their home.

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The first Roman Catholic cleric I knew was their parish priest, a great community man, Father Vincent Davey. I first met him when on a visit he joined in a game of marbles John and I were playing.

John’s mother Mrs McCormick - you didn’t use first names of married ladies in those times - cycled most days the two-plus miles to her church in Antrim. I see her still defying gravity with the style of bicycle. Most days she would have messages to do for her neighbours. Like pharmacy prescriptions or electricity accounts to pay. She exemplified my Church of Ireland catechism’s duality of duty towards God and duty towards neighbour. Each Sunday night, I would see Paddy and his best friend Bobby, a Presbyterian, who lived in Antrim. They visited each other on alternate Sundays and then left each other home part of the way.

I was preparing for ordination when the Vatican decree on ecumenism started to affect formal relations. I didn’t need to go to seminary or lectures for that. It was part of my life in an Ulster mill village. That village and the McCormick family came readily to mind on the day my wife and I were received by the Polish Pope John Paul.

We were in Rome as guests of the international Christians and Jews' body. The delegates were invited to visit the Vatican and later were ushered on to this platform in St Mark’s Square, which was packed with pilgrims from all over the globe. The Pope came and shook hands with all our delegates and my mind was at home thinking of my McCormick neighbours from Muckamore, without whom I would not have been standing there.

And I dropped the ball. I didn’t make a plea to the Pope that Muckamore could win the senior cup, just one more time!

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