Janette@50

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Portraits of a Lady and an Angel
Happy 50th Birthday Janette

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Farewell Homily for Fr Eamonn Monson by Deacon Duncan Brown

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Farewell Homily for Fr Eamonn Monson (Readings: Ezekiel 47 : 1-2, 8-9, 12 | 1 Cor 3 : 9-11, 16-17 | John 2 : 13-22) It’s not easy to say goodbye to someone like  Fr Eamonn Monson  — not just because of the years he’s spent with us, but because of  how  he’s spent them: fully, generously, and at times delightfully unpredictably… especially if you happen to be a pigeon. Yes, it’s fair to say that Fr Eamonn has always had a generous heart — and apparently a generous spare room too. One pigeon took up residence in the presbytery, another decided the church itself would do nicely and most recently a pair started hanging out in the porch Whether they came seeking spiritual guidance or just good company, who’s to say? But they clearly recognised a kind soul when they saw one. The River of Life – Ezekiel 47 In the first reading, the prophet  Ezekiel  sees a trickle of water flowing from the Temple — a stream that grows deeper and wider until it becomes a river brin...
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I LIVE TO SERVE - In Loving Memory of Father Emmanuel Msuri

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  We stand in the temple of our reality, in the presence of God, like the two men in the Gospel. What brings us close to God has been given us. The One who is close to the broken-hearted has humbled us with sorrow so that we might come near to Him. There are two things that bring us into intimate union with Him – the humbled contrite heart of the sinner who cries out for Mercy and the humbled heart that is broken by sorrow. Heart-broken. One prays, “O God be merciful to me a sinner” and the other simply says “O God…” We are shocked and heart-broken by the unexpected death, at the age of forty-seven, of Father Emmanuel Msuri whose arrival here in Hastings we have been waiting for with great anticipation. This was to be another kind of Advent; the meaning of his name not lost on us. Emmanuel – God is with us. He was not known personally to any of the parishioners, with the exception of Alexandra who, as leader of the welcoming group had been in contact with him by email. But, t...
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THE SUPREME ADVANTAGE - In Loving Memory of Fr. John Fitzpatrick SAC

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Three former Provincials - Derry Murphy , John and me Thurles Cathedral bell rings out the midday Angelus .  I pray it out loud for John. We are alone and this is one of the prayers I associate with him. "May Thy Divine assistance remain always with us." Then there is only the sound of him breathing through his final sleep on earth, a sleep that began more than two days ago. We thought then that he would go quickly enough. He thought it himself. His last words were something like, "it's time for me to go to the Lord." But the Lord has His own time in the mystery of things. And I am in no rush, being home on holidays with all the time in the world. Like his sister Rita said yesterday, isn't it good to have all the time we can have with him, even if we want him to be free of this final struggle. But there's actually little sign of struggle, just a slow, steady and heavy breathing. There were moments of obvious pain yesterday but even then he doesn't u...
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TIME OF MY DEPARTURE

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  A garden in the city. The only cool place on this rather hot morning. Beautiful. Nothing to do but watch the antics of two cats. The mother, who has been named Beauty and her unnamed kitten, whom I have decided to call Binti. A wild, frightened thing and very funny to watch. I think if I remained long enough in the garden and sat still enough she would become accustomed to my presence, not take off in fright every time I stand up. It's the morning after a very emotional weekend. Part of me feels like a traitor. It's the kind of road I naturally go down. But I really must start taking into myself the sheer depth and strength of the love that the people of Hastings parish have for me. That there is love between us has been clear all along. I know this in my head. But it's another thing to absorb it into the fibres of my being, to risk being possessed by it, overwhelmed by it, consumed. Consumed. I have been consumed by my work in Hastings. Only now do I realise it. People h...
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The Call of St. Matthew (Caravaggio)

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When Jesus enters the room My hands are still on the money Fingers fiddling My mind distracted by it My soul oppressed by its demands My heart tangled in its deception Then glancing sideward I see the Hand outstretched Finger pointing like a new creation’s Dawning light And when He speaks It is clear that I cannot Serve both God and money It is He that I must follow However harrowed be my life I grow younger as I near Him A beauty ever ancient Emerges ever new Sitting with Him at table We sinners are drawn in To an intimacy Most Divine Mercy
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FESTIVAL OF THE UNEXCEPTIONAL: Celebrating the Ordinary

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We were talking about cars. The flash sporty ones and car shows that he attended. He has a lot of knowledge. I don’t. But I’ve loved all cars since I was a boy. There weren’t that many of them in Mervue in the 1960’s. Enough, though, for me to fill a notebook with their registration numbers, make and model. Ordinary cars of ordinary people. Of the sixteen homes in Ceannt Avenue, there were four or five cars and I would tell friends that my Dad was getting one next year. A pale blue Anglia, like the one uncle Josie had. It never happened! In our teen years Mam would lament the fact that we were still “the walking Monsons”. Back to the conversation with my friend! He told me about the Festival of the Unexceptional that he attended, a car show at which they celebrate the ordinary cars of ordinary people who tell of the significance of their particular vehicle in their lives. I looked it up online. Fabulous! It strikes me that Christianity is a Festival of Unexceptional, ordinary people w...
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To Bring Exactly Nothing Home

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Sunday August 3, 2025 "I go out there to wrestle with emptiness. And success would be to bring exactly nothing home with me." (By Tim Robinson, from Connemara, Listening to the Wind.) To bring exactly nothing home with me. Yes, that's the ideal. Not sure that I can actually succeed in bringing nothing but maybe I can bring much less than I had planned. Maybe it isn't necessary to fill my car again with stuff to bring across the Irish sea. And in this process of clearing out my room, making way for another, I just have to look at what needs to be taken and what should be discarded. There are framed pictures, a mall box of them. There are the pictures coloured and painted by the children over the years for me personally and done so often with great detail and care. So I think I'll bring those with me. But all of the boxes of notes that go back 30 years, retreat notes and talks that I've hauled about with me, thinking that I might make use of them, that they migh...
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AS I LAY UPON MY BED (Silence of the Word))

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Who am I and  Why should I be favoured?  Why should I be honoured with a visit from the Mother of my Lord, Mother of the Word Incarnate? She comes as I wait upon the Word of God at the beginning of the day Sifting through the usual words of comfort that emerge I recognise It when It arrives, and often It is not a word at all But a silence that enters from without and rises from within all at once. A silence that takes hold of my entire being so that I am, for a while, nothing other than pure silence.  It is the silence of the Aleph , the silence of God, the silence of God's presence. The Beginning and the End, the Aleph and the Tav , the Alpha and the Omega It happens on the deck of ship as it sails across the sea and can last for hours. Within this Sacred Silence I am whole, with no trace of anxiety, no burden, free of all that is negative or unwholesome. You might even say that I transcend, or that I am transcended by grace, by the movement of the Holy Spirit. ...
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Love Was His Meaning

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‘Love was his meaning’: a conversation about Julian of Norwich between Dr Claire Gilbert and Fr Eamonn Monson. Click on the link below to listen to the conversation https://drive.google.com/file/d/16euftBoLdrM3X1YvEAhK3RznhdAI1LFj/view?usp=drivesdk Claire Gilbert wrote her doctoral thesis on Julian in relation to the ecological crisis, but when she was diagnosed with myeloma, a cancer of the blood, Julian stopped being the subject of her academic study and became her spiritual companion and guide through two and a half years of gruelling treatment.  Claire wrote about this in letters to friends, published as  Miles to Go Before I Sleep .  At the end of the treatment she heard a call to tell Julian’s story and wrote  I, Julian , a fictional autobiography which seeks to do justice to this extraordinary woman’s life. Dr Claire Gilbert is an author.  She is the founding director of the Westminster Abbey Institute, and has worked for the Archbishops’ Council of the C...
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FROM THE WOMB BEFORE THE DAWN

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    “From the womb before the dawn I begot you…” (Psalm 110)   Maura Monson, Andrew Molloy, Eamonn Monson, Rosaleen Monson & Noreen Carr A Sunday morning sky of two parts. To the West an ominous deep blue grey, to the East the astonishing unfolding of dawn. Hundreds of screeching, swirling seagulls are black against the emerging light and strangely luminous against the dark clouds. I’ve been up since shortly after 3am, waking as I often do now in the fourth watch of the night – that period between 3 and 6am that’s spoken of in the Bible. It was during this watch that Jacob wrestled with God and during this watch that Jesus walked on water. I was born during this watch at 3.30am and for many years I could not sleep until after that time, my nights being a constant battle, a time of conflict and injury. Now I tend to sleep early and wake up during the fourth watch and it is a quiet, peaceful, blessed experience. Perhaps I am being brought to new birth. We’re told that i...
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