COME BACK TO ME

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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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WEAKNESSES (My Special Boast)

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  "I shall make my weaknesses my special boast” (2 Corinthians 12:9) There's a struggle going on in me, the tiredness that comes with the end of the year, the tiredness I see in teachers and pupils as they come to the conclusion of their academic year. A tiredness and an excited anticipation of endings and freedom. I'm a bit unsteady in myself when I enter the church for the first Sunday morning Mass. I have the pleasure of my sister's company this weekend, but in normal times the first word I speak in the day is spoken when I come for Mass which is preceded by three hours of silence. Silent breakfast, silent prayer, silent preparation. I love that silence and I love the first word that is spoken in the day. The connection with the people of the parish. This particular Sunday morning a young Mum places her new-born baby in my arms. The effect on me is instant. Holding this child close to my chest, all unsteadiness is steadied, all turbulence calmed by a peace that ta...
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My Name

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  My name Is not a word To be pronounced More a sound Emanating From God Most High Like the silence Of interstellar space The calm deep of ocean Washing the shore The quiet falling Of an Autumn leaf And then again The roaring of wind Waves crashing on rocks Groaning of the elements A pristine primordial cry And the laughter of delighted children My name is a mystery And I have heard God call it In the unfathomable  Sacrament of the Altar  And in those hidden places Where only He has ventured
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