OF YOU MY HEART HAS SPOKEN

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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...

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...

  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...

Camino Hermit In the shadow Of Your Wings In the shelter Of Your Tent You are My Hiding Place O Lord You surround me Cloister of my seeking Silence of my desire A man alone With The One Nomad on a journey Hermit in the city I am nothing and everything Absent and present Nowhere and anywhere Solitude of Communion In You  Who are The One You are the All In whom all are found

And I clearly see that if we expect to please him and receive an abundance of his graces, God desires that these graces must come to us from the hands of Christ, through his most sacred humanity, in which God takes delight. (Teresa Of Avila) Mondays I feel spent, not knowing what to do with myself, not knowing how to do nothing, yet not having the energy to do anything. A walk is a good idea and it’s a beautiful day. And what a delight it is to meet Mary down the seafront walking her grandson. She always energises me, and we walk together chatting animatedly all the way up to London Road in St. Leonards. From there it’s back to the Pier where I find a bench facing towards Hastings. In spite of the sunshine, the wind is cold against the back of my head, so I pull up my hood and sit there like a monk, pondering. The Irish hymn, I arise today – based on the Breastplate of St. Patrick - is stirring in me. “Stability of earth…firmness of rock..” My gaze fixed on the West and East hills an...

  God is beyond time, yet his timing is impeccable, precise, spot on. This is a blessing that has been evident in my life many times over many years. A few weeks ago as I was preparing to board the ferry to Ireland, I got word that a friend had died during the night in Cork and I arrived home just in time for her funeral, something that mattered for me and her family. Travelling to her funeral meant that I stayed with our Community in Thurles which gave me the opportunity to visit my good friend John who has been seriously ill for most of the past year. He was well enough, sitting out in his chair, but neither of us realized that these would be our last conversations. A week later he became unconscious and, again, I was free to go to him, spending his last three days with him, his family and the community. The grace of being with him when he died, participating in his funeral. All of these are reminders to me of God’s Providence , confirmations that He is not only with me but...

  The Climb The Cloud The Vision and The Voice Word without Speech No Sound The Holy One Calling Be Holy I am struck With amazement Astonished Transported To the hushed Half-light Of Saturday night's Cathedral Waiting For confession's Mercy The ardent Thirst for holiness Inflaming My soul Centre-point On the horizon Of my destiny Hope that Sustains My every endeavour The mountain The valley The desert and The river Of my heart Oh my Holy One My Love I offer you Childlike obeisance On the earth floor Of my life Glimpsing glory Through a prism Of clay (In memory of my First Profession as a Pallottine, September 12, 1975)

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...

  When a son of Gera  Flings verbal dirt and stones  Into my sorrow  And I am tempted  To cut him off for good I am reminded  That God may have bid him Do it As He did the original  To King David  Perhaps I have offended  Neglected him And have need of repentance  I am reminded too That He has bid another To make my spirits soar With laughter  And the Hand that hurts Is the Hand that heals

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. ...

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...