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OF YOU MY HEART HAS SPOKEN

Eamonn Monson SAC

MASS OF THE HOLY SOULS NOV 5TH

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- November 05, 2020

"nothing can happen that will outweigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."

(Philippians 3:8)

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30 Days

Death With Life Contended (Easter 2024)

- April 01, 2024

Witness. The word appears a few times in the first reading for Easter Sunday. Here in Hastings, we had the annual ecumenical Procession of Witness – the Way of the Cross – which made its way from St. Clement’s church, up High Street, into our own St. Mary Star of the Sea and then on to All Saints. To be a witness is not simply something we see with our eyes, not only something we give testimony to in our words, but it is most of all something we experience, a reality into which our entire being is immersed, so that we somehow become the reality that we witness. I have mixed feelings about the Procession of Witness. It is always good to walk with Deacon Duncan, to see familiar faces in the crowd and this year to walk for the first time with Father Mat and his family. And I have great admiration for all those who give themselves so generously to the process. But the thing itself embarrasses me and is much too loud for my liking yet, in spite of my dislike, I find myself drawn into

I Have Given You An Example (Holy Week 2024)

- March 26, 2024

Reflection recorded for St. Richard's Catholic College, Bexhill

THAT SACRED WRITING OF GOD (An Experience of Lent)

- March 18, 2024

A kind parishioner brought me to visit an elderly lady whom I hadn’t seen for a few years. She was the essence of elegance in the past and retains it now in the present. And in her solitude she lives a strong interior life. I brought her Holy Communion which was a delight for her. She was like the Greeks in the Gospel who said, “we would like to see Jesus!” (John 12) And see Him she does in this Holy Communion, as we all do, with the eyes of faith, the eyes of her soul. Observing her in that sacred moment was inspiring, moving. Having received her dear Lord, she joined her hands, closed her eyes, looking for all the world like the Blessed Virgin Mary. Then she seemed to move deep down into her interior where something special was taking place and, when she eventually opened her eyes she said, “I heard the sound of Angels singing.” Beautiful. It seems to me that Jesus in the Eucharist touched that place in her heart where God had written His Law, His Word. That sacred writing

Brendan (A leap-year leave-taking)

- February 29, 2024

I sit beside the grief Of your leap-year Leave-taking Short of words Hoping still that presence Has some meaning Like the bright smile Of your welcome Warmth of your voice The fullness of your greeting As you strode across the Green The unexpected hug Of our last meeting Ceannt Avenue will never Be the same again And the seagulls know it Squawking in the squall That tosses them around The heavy-laden sky All poise useless When the hailstones Tumble down Upon the mourners At your grave (2008)

Unbreak My Heart

‘Unbreak My Heart’ was one of the songs playing on Radio Sussex as I lay flat and still for the best part of two hours - well maybe 90 minutes - as the cardiologist first probed my heart and then proceeded to mend it. My only fear was that he would probe and find nothing wrong as happened twelve years ago in Dublin. He said as much before beginning the procedure – that the blockage he saw in my scan was nothing serious and would probably not require any treatment. And it’s not that I wanted to be unwell; I just wanted a reason to explain why I was feeling so unwell. To find a reason and have it dealt with. My breathlessness has been developing for the past couple of years and came to a dramatic head in the Sahara Desert last year where I was left gasping and panting at a ferocious rate. By last week it was quite stressful. It demanded attention and the NHS gave me a date for the angiogram which took place in Eastbourne last Friday May 28 th .

This Tree (A Morning Prayer)

- March 18, 2024

Uproot from the soil Of my heart Lord This tree That bears no fruit Deep-rooted Stubborn Taking up Such precious space The bark that holds all My legitimate grievances Be burned in the fire Of Divine Love Purifying furnace Uproot from the soil Of my heart Lord This tree This egocentric self And leave behind A gaping hole That it may become A chalice for Your own Sacred outpouring Wellspring of Mercy Garden of Your Law Fertile field of Word Deepest interior Knowing

Affectation

- February 25, 2024

Sometimes I catch myself In a fit Of affectation Uttering High sounding Inflated Empty-headed words With the pretence Of wisdom in them O Lord forgive The misuse Of the gift Of Your Word

O LORD OF MERCY (Who Am I)

- February 25, 2024

Who am I? That I should open The door Of the Tabernacle Take You In my hands Place You On the altar Expose You To the gaze Of hungry souls Who am I That I should utter Hollow words Of adoration Praise Gratitude When nothing On this earth Could ever express The Majesty The Mystery Who am I That You should choose To anoint me To be totally Yours And stand in Your place At Your altar To utter the sacred Words of Consecration And somehow bring Your presence to life Your Passion Your Rising Salvation For Your People O Lord of Mercy I am not worthy

Carmel: Most Beautiful of Women

- August 27, 2023

It was a warm blustery Sunday evening o n Hastings pier... Waiting for news of Carmel Waiting for Carmel to leave Not that I wanted her to go I would like her to stay on and on We all would But she had to go It was her time Her time was coming And God was calling And I was five hundred miles Away She is my aunt -in-law But really my aunt In affection Sixty odd years of it When I was a boy of eight or so She came to Raford from Birmingham Young wife and mother Josie's wife Marian's mother Josie was my uncle Raford is the Carty homestead It became Carmel's home Over the past 36 years It has been hers Since Josie died She came to embody Raford She became Raford For me For my family To the eight-year-old boy She was bright, beautiful and warm Very caring We were down by the big metal gate Closing it And my heel got caught in it I cried more loudly than was necessary And Carmel brought me in, took off my white ankle socks, bathed and bandag

SIMPLICITY: Kissing The Hand of Jesus 2017 - Eamonn Monson sac

- December 23, 2017

I came across a painting by Fray Juan Bautista Maino called The Adoration of the Shepherds and a detail shows one of the shepherds (though it might be St. Joseph) lifting the right hand of the baby Jesus and kissing it. It strikes me that this is the purpose of our Advent and Christmas - to arrive at a point where Jesus is born for us again, born within us and we are called to come to Jesus and express our love for him in such a gesture. John the Baptist goes into the desert for clarity and focus. The desert is a place of simplicity where we have nothing but the essentials to deal with and focus on. With this focus on the essentials John is able to recognise Jesus when he appears. Last Christmas I celebrated Mass with a group of special needs adults from St. John Of God Carmona services, an experience which brought me face to face with the essential meaning of life in all its simplicity. When I arrived in the hall I went to greet each person - 30 or 40 in all - an

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Death With Life Contended (Easter 2024)

- April 01, 2024

Witness. The word appears a few times in the first reading for Easter Sunday. Here in Hastings, we had the annual ecumenical Procession of Witness – the Way of the Cross – which made its way from St. Clement’s church, up High Street, into our own St. Mary Star of the Sea and then on to All Saints. To be a witness is not simply something we see with our eyes, not only something we give testimony to in our words, but it is most of all something we experience, a reality into which our entire being is immersed, so that we somehow become the reality that we witness. I have mixed feelings about the Procession of Witness. It is always good to walk with Deacon Duncan, to see familiar faces in the crowd and this year to walk for the first time with Father Mat and his family. And I have great admiration for all those who give themselves so generously to the process. But the thing itself embarrasses me and is much too loud for my liking yet, in spite of my dislike, I find myself drawn into

I Have Given You An Example (Holy Week 2024)

- March 26, 2024

Reflection recorded for St. Richard's Catholic College, Bexhill

St. Teresa of Avila: Let Nothing Disturb you

- October 15, 2020

“My soul at once becomes recollected and I enter the state of quiet. Everything is stilled and the soul is left in a state of great quiet and deep satisfaction.” (St. Teresa of Avila) St. Teresa of Avila has been one of the most significant guides of my spiritual life since I was 17 years old. I began reading her very early in my life as a Pallottine and there are two moments – a dream and a time in prayer - that have connected me to her. In the dream I walked into an old unfamiliar church where I met my father who was already dead at the time. He pointed me to a side altar at the top left-hand side. When I went there I saw St. Teresa’s tomb in front of the altar. It was like the Italian ones with the shape of the body carved in marble; she was sleeping covered with a blanket. Then she stirred and woke up, telling me to stand between her and the altar. “Stay here” she said “and I will take care of you.” The second happened during a charismatic retreat when I was resting in the Spirit,

SIMPLICITY: Kissing The Hand of Jesus 2017 - Eamonn Monson sac

- December 23, 2017

I came across a painting by Fray Juan Bautista Maino called The Adoration of the Shepherds and a detail shows one of the shepherds (though it might be St. Joseph) lifting the right hand of the baby Jesus and kissing it. It strikes me that this is the purpose of our Advent and Christmas - to arrive at a point where Jesus is born for us again, born within us and we are called to come to Jesus and express our love for him in such a gesture. John the Baptist goes into the desert for clarity and focus. The desert is a place of simplicity where we have nothing but the essentials to deal with and focus on. With this focus on the essentials John is able to recognise Jesus when he appears. Last Christmas I celebrated Mass with a group of special needs adults from St. John Of God Carmona services, an experience which brought me face to face with the essential meaning of life in all its simplicity. When I arrived in the hall I went to greet each person - 30 or 40 in all - an

THAT SACRED WRITING OF GOD (An Experience of Lent)

- March 18, 2024

A kind parishioner brought me to visit an elderly lady whom I hadn’t seen for a few years. She was the essence of elegance in the past and retains it now in the present. And in her solitude she lives a strong interior life. I brought her Holy Communion which was a delight for her. She was like the Greeks in the Gospel who said, “we would like to see Jesus!” (John 12) And see Him she does in this Holy Communion, as we all do, with the eyes of faith, the eyes of her soul. Observing her in that sacred moment was inspiring, moving. Having received her dear Lord, she joined her hands, closed her eyes, looking for all the world like the Blessed Virgin Mary. Then she seemed to move deep down into her interior where something special was taking place and, when she eventually opened her eyes she said, “I heard the sound of Angels singing.” Beautiful. It seems to me that Jesus in the Eucharist touched that place in her heart where God had written His Law, His Word. That sacred writing

EVERY DAY HAS ITS MOOD AND ITS MUSIC

- November 02, 2023

Every day has its mood and its music. Today, feast of the Holy Souls, it’s Faure’s Requiem. Every other sound seems to jar. Maura and I discovered this Requiem on cassette tape in Birkenhead not long after Dad died back in 1990 and we listened to it over and over as it brought tears and solace to our grief. This morning in the throes of Storm Ciaran, in the interior half-light, I plug Faure into the church sound system, and it is magnificent as I go around putting down buckets and towels to catch the water that is dripping, sometimes flowing down from the church ceiling. There is no grief in me now, not much anyway and even the “not much” is softened. The music of course brings Maura close and all the many others who have gone. Mam and Dad. I sit to write their names in the November list – two foolscap pages – and they all seem to float about the sanctuary. Family, Pallottines, close friends, neighbours. We’re of an age now when more seem to have gone than remain. It’s sobering and

BOOKENDS: My Induction As Parish Priest of Hastings - Eamonn Monson sac

- October 01, 2017

I’m wearing vestments that were made for my predecessor Fr. Seamus who was a much, much bigger man than me by a long shot, so there’s no way I can fill them as he did. There is no way that I can fill the space occupied by him when he was Parish Priest. But all the same the vestments fit me in a different kind of way. Something of Seamus remains here but things are not the same. His death brought an unexpected change and I have become part of that change. When I was his novice master I never dreamed that he would die before me, never thought that I would succeed him. On the front and back of my chausible is the Pallottine seal with the motto "Caritas Christi Urget Nos" (The Love of Christ Urges us on). This seal is testament to our communal calling, the mission given to each of us personally and together as community. The emotion of his passing is still strong! He is very much missed and was greatly loved here in Hastings. He touched people’s lives for the bett

Carmel: Most Beautiful of Women

- August 27, 2023

It was a warm blustery Sunday evening o n Hastings pier... Waiting for news of Carmel Waiting for Carmel to leave Not that I wanted her to go I would like her to stay on and on We all would But she had to go It was her time Her time was coming And God was calling And I was five hundred miles Away She is my aunt -in-law But really my aunt In affection Sixty odd years of it When I was a boy of eight or so She came to Raford from Birmingham Young wife and mother Josie's wife Marian's mother Josie was my uncle Raford is the Carty homestead It became Carmel's home Over the past 36 years It has been hers Since Josie died She came to embody Raford She became Raford For me For my family To the eight-year-old boy She was bright, beautiful and warm Very caring We were down by the big metal gate Closing it And my heel got caught in it I cried more loudly than was necessary And Carmel brought me in, took off my white ankle socks, bathed and bandag

He asked me to take Him in my arms: RESPECT FOR GOD

- January 04, 2021

One day in the silence after the Gospel at Mass I picked up St. Faustina’s diary and asked God to show me something that needed to be seen in that moment. This is what I saw, “I saw the Infant Jesus near my kneeler. He appeared to be about one year old, and He asked me to take Him in my arms. When I did take Him in my arms, He cuddled up close to my bosom and said, “It is good for Me to be close to your heart. … Because I want to teach you spiritual childhood. I want you to be very little, because when you are little, I carry you close to My Heart, just as you are holding Me close to your heart right now.” ( Aleteia ) There is the danger at this point of the Christmas season that, as we begin to put away the decorations, we might also be inclined to put away the child Jesus, forgetting about this essential aspect of what He came on earth to reveal about who God is, what God is like. The Word became flesh and lived among us. Flesh is an important word here, a vital part of the birth o

Running In My Head

- February 19, 2024

When I was a boy, we went to school by bus and, more often than not, I was late, running frantically down Parnell Avenue, desperate not to miss it, fear rising in my throat. I sometimes missed it and would have to walk the two miles and, being very late, I would be punished. Punished with more than words. Nowadays there is no bus for me to catch but still I am running in my head, trying to catch up with responsibilities that have overtaken me, obligations that I cannot keep pace with, so that I am missing deadlines and, far to often, forgetting to do what should have been done. The fear that was in me as a child rises in me every day. As certain as the dawn. Emails, letters, questions to be answered, banks to be dealt with, phone messages not dealt with. And the Church piles on us so many demands that I find overwhelming. Documents. Renovation. Reform. A year for this and a year for that. There’s no let-up and I realize that I can no longer sustain this. There are people who can do

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This Year

REALITY: The Birthplace of Jesus

- December 28, 2023

"He who sits in the heavens laughs" (Psalm 2) I’m not used to masculine violence – the sheer strength and force of it. It happened once before when I was about fifteen years old. A lad headbutted my face in the Community Centre under the church in Mervue, leaving me nicely bruised and I told the lie that I had banged my face off the countertop, ashamed to say what had actually happened. That was then and now, last week on the Monday before Christmas, I encountered the violence of men again. Accidentally. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Standing in the doorway of Iceland, two men went for each other with their fists, and I happened to be in the way. Stood between them. And for the space of a minute or less I was rattled back and forth like a rag doll. Another man entered the fray, and I suffered a severe blow to the left side of my lower back. The force of it shocked me. Then the fight ended and I limped away, dazed and in great pain. It was a rude awakening from t

Carmel: Most Beautiful of Women

- August 27, 2023

It was a warm blustery Sunday evening o n Hastings pier... Waiting for news of Carmel Waiting for Carmel to leave Not that I wanted her to go I would like her to stay on and on We all would But she had to go It was her time Her time was coming And God was calling And I was five hundred miles Away She is my aunt -in-law But really my aunt In affection Sixty odd years of it When I was a boy of eight or so She came to Raford from Birmingham Young wife and mother Josie's wife Marian's mother Josie was my uncle Raford is the Carty homestead It became Carmel's home Over the past 36 years It has been hers Since Josie died She came to embody Raford She became Raford For me For my family To the eight-year-old boy She was bright, beautiful and warm Very caring We were down by the big metal gate Closing it And my heel got caught in it I cried more loudly than was necessary And Carmel brought me in, took off my white ankle socks, bathed and bandag

And Know Your Inmost Heart: Corpus Christi

- June 12, 2023

We held a Corpus Christ procession after the Saturday evening Mass. An experience that was beautiful, and joyful in ways that I would not have expected. I walked under the canopy carrying Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and He was my focus most of the way. By my side walked Deacon Duncan, singing his heart out and a line from one of the hymns registered strongly with me every time he sang it – “Truth itself speaks truly or there’s nothing true.” In the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist we encounter Truth in a very clear and liberating way and my favourite place of prayer is in front of the Tabernacle, mostly in the mornings where Truth reveals itself most in my inmost heart – “in the secret of my heart teach me…” (Psalm 51) The phrase “inmost heart” has come to me from various unconnected sources over the past week. It appears in the first reading Deuteronomy for the feast of Corpus Christi – the “remember” and “do not forget” that are central to the celebration of the Eucharist.

USEJA (Thus Spoke the Silence)

- July 22, 2023

You will not hold You will not be held But briefly Thus spoke the Silence To the emptiness Not for you Such tender comfort Yours the desert thirst That will not be quenched The hunger that will not be satisfied The yearning unfulfilled Until you understand The meaning of all desire Separation being the path to Reparation being the door to Restoration of the soul to Paradise once more

I KNOW THAT, LOVE: In Honour of Mary Moore

- January 19, 2024

Dawn broke beautifully over a white-frosted Mervue, the sun shivering through naked trees. Fog rising further out in the fields, diffusing a soft light. Evelyn drove me to Shannon for my return trip to Hastings. After two weeks away I know it’s time to get back and, however much I fantasize about retirement, I know it wouldn’t suit me at all. Not yet! Mary Moore’s funeral kept me home a few days longer – five days! It was an honour to be the priest celebrating her requiem. Her death has startled us her contemporaries. And it brought us together. It made us think. Especially since she is the second of our generation in Mervue to die within the space a of week. It has, of course, also awakened the feeling of loss in relation to our Maura. Her death almost twenty-five years ago. Mary was seventy-one years old, as Maura would be if she were here now. They were school mates; friends and I was part of that friendship especially in our teens when I spent many happy times in Coynes hou

EVERY DAY HAS ITS MOOD AND ITS MUSIC

- November 02, 2023

Every day has its mood and its music. Today, feast of the Holy Souls, it’s Faure’s Requiem. Every other sound seems to jar. Maura and I discovered this Requiem on cassette tape in Birkenhead not long after Dad died back in 1990 and we listened to it over and over as it brought tears and solace to our grief. This morning in the throes of Storm Ciaran, in the interior half-light, I plug Faure into the church sound system, and it is magnificent as I go around putting down buckets and towels to catch the water that is dripping, sometimes flowing down from the church ceiling. There is no grief in me now, not much anyway and even the “not much” is softened. The music of course brings Maura close and all the many others who have gone. Mam and Dad. I sit to write their names in the November list – two foolscap pages – and they all seem to float about the sanctuary. Family, Pallottines, close friends, neighbours. We’re of an age now when more seem to have gone than remain. It’s sobering and

THE LILAC TREE: Connection and Communication

In the back garden of my home in Mervue there’s a lilac tree that was planted by my Mother and it was once tall and beautiful when in full bloom. The winter after she died a storm uprooted and knocked the tree flat on the ground and we were all very sorry for it because it represented her. The tree lay there through the winter and into the spring. I left it like that because I felt it had something to say to me about what is fallen in life, even though people were urging me to get rid of it and then to my great surprise, the following May new lilac blossoms emerged from the fallen tree and when I went to look at the roots I noticed that one single slim root was still connected to the earth and by it the tree lives on. So, it rests there as a parable for me of the hope that abides in the fallen states of life, in times when things fall apart and out of place. A reminder of the line from the Book of Job, " there is hope for a tree: If it is cut down, it will sprout again, and

FOLLOW, LEARN, BECOME

- July 09, 2023

July 7 - Saba Saba in Tanzania. The Gospel for today is the call of Matthew and it comes a day after I signed up for a Divine Renovation course which is designed to kick-start priests into becoming more effective leaders in parish life, leading the parish itself to new life in the Holy Spirit. The course begins in September on the feast of St. Matthew. I told the young man who interviewed me on Zoom that I was doing it in obedience to a suggestion from a parishioner who sees that I am in need of renovation. And mutual obedience is a characteristic of the Christian life as we are told by Saint Paul - "give way to one another in obedience to Christ." Renovation is one of those odd words that are used in Church circles. Synod being another one that has no use in the language of the ordinary person. Renovation! It brings to mind a crumbling building that is in need of serious repair. But I am taking part in both the Renovation and the Synod. In the first, because I know how muc

WHAT GOD IS OFFERING

- October 15, 2023

"Lady of the silences Calm and distressed Torn and most whole Rose of memory Rose of forgetfulness Exhausted and life-giving Worried reposeful" (TS Eliot) Just before Mass this morning, Grace brought me a lovely plaque of the Virgin and Child which she found in a second-hand shop. It reminded her of me and thought it appropriate for this difficult time in Israel and Palestine. As I opened it, Dominic asked when my birthday is, thinking it might be now, but I told him it was in late January and the mention of it brought me back to the last weeks of my mother’s pregnancy. She told me that, on December 8 th , 1954, six or so weeks before my birth, she walked two miles to Mass in deep snow. That very act of walking so far in difficult weather while heavily pregnant speaks of a commitment to the Mass that is very striking. She wasn’t overly religious but was part of a generation for whom fidelity was as natural and unquestioned as breathing and she probably never missed a Sund

IN THE NAME OF THE KING OF KINGS: Our Royal Identity in Christ

“Are you the Parson?” asks the old man sitting alone at the back of the church. “I don’t share your faith, but I come in here very often when it is empty, and I just sit here and feel well. I feel love! Loved!” “I’m very pleased” I say. “But it’s not just a beautiful building” he goes on, “there’s something else…” And his voice trails off as he ponders, searching for a word that escapes him, so I prompt him. “A Presence?” I ask. “Yes!” he replies, raising his index finger. “There is a Presence here!” “There is indeed” I reply. What a wonderful thing for him to experience and for me to hear, to be reminded again of what I already know and experience. The abiding Presence of Jesus that is hidden in the Tabernacle and it strikes me that our church does its own work in drawing people in, Jesus does His own work without any effort on my part. All I do is open the door in the morning and leave it open. God does the rest! This is the blessing that is ours as a Catholic Community. Weekly and