I was involved in prayer ministry in Omagh Hospital from 4 p.m. last Saturday and I am still praying for the victims of The Bomb.
When I walked into those corridors and wards I saw more blood, burns, cuts, amputations and disfigurements than any person can humanly cope with. I also saw nurses, doctors, ambulance personnel, policemen and members of the public doing heroic and valiant work to help all those victims.
Today I am going to assist at the funeral of Samantha McFarland. I became involved with her family when her uncle met me in the hospital corridor at 12.30 a.m. last Sunday. He looked so lost as he asked me, "Will you help me?" I said, "I'll try". He said his 17-year-old niece was missing and the family had no word. "Can you get into the mortuary?" he pleaded, presumably thinking my clerical collar might enable me to circumvent the system. We went to the Leisure Centre, where Samantha's father and brother were in the "long wait". We found that the system had to be that descriptions had to substantially match remains before any family member looked at what remained.
I consoled Ken as best I could by saying that I agreed that this procedure should be followed. I then offered to go to his sister's home to minister to Samantha's mother. Once there, I listened to their heart-rending story and their resignation that after nine hours their worst fears would be confirmed in due course. I prayed with them, I read the Bible to them, I sat with them and I had tea with them. (Their clergyman was on holidays in Cork.) I had to leave and do further ministry. The dreaded news came to them at 5.30 a.m. on Sunday. What a long wait.
The "long wait" was one of the worst aspects of the aftermath of the bomb. Earlier I had ministered to the Shortt family. I had thought that their story was terrible, and so it was. The bomb exploded. Ian Shortt was in another part of Omagh. He rushed to the scene. The first person he lifted was his dead mother. He accompanied her to the hospital, where she was checked by medical staff. Because she was dead they had to move on to other people who were "only" wounded. A policeman eventually sent Ian with his mother to the mortuary in the army barracks. How awful for Ian? Yet it was "better" than the "long wait".
Other clergy of all denominations and I ministered as army chaplains would do on a battlefield. There was no thought of religious denomination. These were people and we prayed for them, we comforted them. We moved on to the next bed and did the same. We prayed God's blessing on the doctors and nurses. We kept going. We were not hindered in any way, and we did not hinder the medical attention.
I can remember praying with a little boy of 12 who was badly cut, and over his bed was the sign "traumatic amputation". This was medical terminology for his right leg blown off. I saw a number of those awful signs. The lovely young nurse with her bloodstained uniform stood back from the bloodstained bed to allow me in. I prayed calmly as I laid a healing hand on his blood-covered head. I included in my prayer the father and mother who were on their way from a tranquil home to see their son in this state. As a parent of a 13-year-old girl, Zara, and a 15-year-old boy, Jonathan, I did not have to try hard to empathise with the plight of those parents and many other parents.
Inside I was shouting, "Where are the people who did this? Why? How could anyone do this?" I found no answer for these questions.
I resume this letter on Friday morning, August 21st.
At Samantha McFarland's funeral I was assisting my colleague, Rev Derek Quinn. Mrs McFarland took me to see Samantha in her coffin. I am accustomed to funerals but when I laid a hand on Samantha's head she was so cold for one so young and so pretty. As I left the home ahead of the cortege I noticed many young people standing on the pavement. Again as I approached Lislimnahan Parish Church I was again confronted by a line of young people. I choked back the tears. In the porch of the church a reporter asked me my name. I told him and started to mention the young people. I just burst into tears. That reporter laid a comforting hand on my arm. The churchwardens led me to the vestry where I managed to stop my flow of tears.
What overcame me was the thought of those young people, those teenagers. I was upset that those so young and so innocent had to see and to endure this. Young lives are supposed to be protected, they are supposed to be happy and carefree. This bomb had shattered all that for a generation of the youth of Omagh. This is wrong. This is not right. All to do with what this bomb (and other bombs) had done is obscene.
This bomb was addressed to humanity. It grieves us all. These verses come to mind: "The LORD saw how great man's wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time. The LORD was grieved that he had made man on the earth, and his heart was filled with pain." Gen 6:5-6 (NIV). I saw that "The LORD was grieved . . . and his heart was filled with pain". I realised that this was how God felt about the situation in Omagh and in so many other places when people are sinning against each other.
I ministered in my grief and in God's grief to those in pain, anguish and death.
I also saw the goodness of the human race as I moved between the caring nurses, doctors, ambulance people, staff of the hospital and members of the public who did so many heroic deeds.
To help me to understand what was done I thought like this. One group in whom the image of God is marred by sin had struck at other people made in the image of God by killing and maiming them. This in turn had brought out the renewed image of God in those who helped by their caring deeds in so many ways and in so many situations.
In the darkness and dust of Omagh there is hope. That hope is in those good people who have not succumbed to sin that violates others' rights. It is hope that resides in the Gospel of Christ that redeems and remakes people by Christ living in their hearts through faith. May God grant that all of us would be more fully converted into the image of Jesus Christ (See Romans 8:29).
I thank the journalists for their sensitivity in Omagh.
Yours in Christ's Service,
Rev Canon John Hay, Donacavey and Barr Parishes, The Rectory, Fintona, Co Tyrone.