My dear Oblate family,

Praying Before Dawn

I arose very early this morning, before dawn while it was still dark , and made my way to our temporary Oratory (the future library) for Matins. These days, given the excessive amount of work during the day, it is not possible for all four of us -- two monks and two seekers -- to come to Matins. Consequently, I found myself alone in the presence of the Lord, with only the bird choirs to respond to my psalmody. There is an indescribable grace attached to prayer before dawn. Would this be because Our Lord Himself favoured this hour for His own prayer to the Father? The psalms, so often repeated as to be know almost by heart, have, at this hour, a freshness and an immediacy that I rarely experience later in the day.

Turn to Mary

The Invitatory for today's feast -- Our Lady of the Cenacle -- is drawn from the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles: Alleluia! Let us persevere in prayer * with Mary, the Mother of Jesus, alleluia. The presence of Mary makes perseverance in prayer possible. Without Mary, in our midst and at our side, we would grow weary and listless, and so lose the virile spirit of perseverance in prayer. So often prayer seems futile, or empty, or not worth the effort; at moments such as these we must turn to Mary, confident that she will pray in our stead and, gradually, almost imperceptibly, draw us into her own prayer until, as if by surprise, we find that we have persevered in praying after all.

Faith and Hope

Resolve never to pray apart from Mary. Her presence in the Cenacle was a living flame of love, a hearth of fire and of light in the midst of a community bewildered by the mysterious Ascension of the Lord. Absent, but present, and present, but absent, the Lord was, already, in these days before Pentecost, schooling His Church in the prayer of faith, a persevering prayer, that goes on hoping even when the object of her hope seems far removed from her.

Present in the Cenacle

Just how was Our Lord present in the Cenacle after His Ascension? He was present, first of all, in faithfulness to His promise that where two or three gather in His Name, there would He be, in the midst of them. He is present too in His words, repeated, remembered, and held in the heart. He is present in Peter, who in spite of all his weaknesses and failings, remains the rock chosen by Christ. He is present in John, the Beloved Disciple in whose heart burns an inextinguishable fire of love, the one enkindled at the Last Supper when, for the first time, Jesus fed Him with the mysteries of His Body and Blood. He is present in the silence, in the face, and in the voice of His Virgin Mother. She is the pillar of faith against whom every lie, every temptation, and every heresy is smashed to pieces. Finally, He is present in the bread become His Body, and in the chalice of wine mixed with water become His Blood.

The Lamb, the Altar, and the Holy of Holies

What must Our Lady have felt when, in the Cenacle, she beheld, lying before her on the table, the very Flesh of her her own flesh and the very Blood of her own blood? Her Maternal Heart leapt in recognition of the Lamb. The table had become her altar. The Cenacle itself had become her Holy of Holies.

Here was her Son, the very fruit of her womb: the Jesus whom she had carried, nourished, washed, clothed, and kissed. Here, veiled, was the Face that disappeared from her sight on the Mount of Olives, when He ascended. Here, beating with a passionate love His Bride, the Church, was the very Heart that she saw pierced by the soldier's lance on Calvary.

Perseverance in Prayer

There is but one way to persevere in prayer, and that is by remaining close to Mary. Distance from Mary is distance from the Church, and distance from the Church is distance from Christ. Moreover, where Mary is, there too is the Holy Ghost. To abide with Mary is to abide under the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost. To withdraw from Mary's presence and to withdraw from beneath the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost. It is to choose sterility over fecundity, self-assertion over obedience, and fleeting things over the imperishable treasures of the Kingdom of Heaven.

You Will Find Her in the Cenacle

More than anything else, my prayer for you today, asks that you may never depart from Mary. You will find her today in the Cenacle, all silent and absorbed in adoration. Approach her as closely as you can, and if you are too weak to make your way to her, ask her to make her way to you. This she will do, for hers is a Maternal Heart, and no weakness of our repels her. On the contrary, she has for the weakest and most unstable of her children, a tenderness that must be experienced in order to be understood. Blessed feast, then, of Our Lady of the Cenacle, our life, our sweetness, and our hope.

With my loving blessing to each one,
Father Prior

My very dear friend, author Jane Mossendew has written a little jewel of a book, just in time for spring and summer garden work: Gardening for God is available from the Catholic Truth Society. Jane had the exquisite kindness of dedicating Gardening for God to Monsignor Guido Marino, Papal Master of Ceremonies . . . and to me!

The CTS announcement of the new publication has this to say:

Gardens have always occupied an important place in Holy Scripture, from the garden of Eden to the many horticultural images used by Christ himself.

This booklet is an invitation to remember God when we head out of our back door. It shows how we are brought closer to God through being surrounded by, and helping to grow, His creation.

From the different flowers that accompany us throughout the liturgical year, to the importance of making time for reflection, a garden has an eloquent language that this text helps to unpack.

Jane Mossendew was raised as an Anglican and converted to Catholicism in 1959. In 2006, after a career in education, Jane retired from London to her garden in the south of France.

Yesterday at the Wednesday General Audience, our Holy Father offered this profound and comforting teaching on prayer in the Letters of Saint Paul. I cannot begin to say how much the Holy Father's words went straight to my heart. He addressed struggles in prayer that I have known and that many souls familiar to me have also known. This text is a gift for the first day of the Pentecost Novena.

Dear brothers and sisters,

The Prayer of Saint Paul

In the last catecheses we reflected on prayer in the Acts of the Apostles. Today I would like to begin to speak about prayer in the Letters of St. Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles. First, I would like to note that it is not by chance that his Letters are introduced and conclude with expressions of prayer: at the beginning, thanksgiving and praise; at the end, the wish that the grace of God guide the journey of the community to whom the writing is addressed. The content of the Apostle's Letters develops between the opening formula: "I thank my God through Jesus Christ" (Romans 1:8), and the final wishes: "The grace of the Lord Jesus be with you" (1 Corinthians 16:23). The prayer of St. Paul manifests a great wealth of forms -- from thanksgiving to benediction, from praise to petition and intercession, from hymns to supplication: a variety of expressions, which demonstrate how prayer involves and penetrates all the situations of life, those which are personal as well as those of the community he is addressing.

Placing Our Time at God's Disposition

A first element that the Apostle wants us to understand is that prayer should not be seen merely as a good work that we carry out for God, an action of ours. First and foremost, it is a gift, the fruit of the living, vivifying presence of the Father of Jesus Christ in us. In the Letter to the Romans he writes: "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words" (8:26). And we know how true the Apostle's saying is: "We do not know how to pray as we ought". We want to pray, but God is far off, we do not have the words, the language, to speak with God, nor even the thought to do so. We can only open ourselves, place our time at God's disposition, wait for Him to help us to enter into true dialogue. The Apostle says: this very lack of words, this absence of words, yet this desire to enter into contact with God, is prayer that the Holy Spirit not only understands, but brings and interprets before God. This very weakness of ours becomes -- through the Holy Spirit -- true prayer, true contact with God. The Holy Spirit is, as it were, the interpreter who makes us, and God, understand what it is we wish to say.

Rely Increasingly Upon Him

In prayer we experience -- more than in other aspects of life -- our weakness, our poverty, our being creatures, for we are placed before the omnipotence and transcendence of God. And the more we advance in listening and in dialogue with God, so that prayer becomes the daily breath of our souls, the more we also perceive the measure of our limitations, not only in the face of the concrete situations of everyday life, but also in our relationship with the Lord. The need to trust, to rely increasingly upon Him then grows in us; we come to understand that "we do not know ... how to pray as we ought" (Romans 8:26).

Toward the Heights of God

And it is the Holy Spirit who helps our inability, who enlightens our minds and warms our hearts, guiding us as we turn to God. For St. Paul, prayer is above all the work of the Holy Spirit in our humanity, to take our weakness and to transform us from men bound to material realities into spiritual men. In the First Letter to the Corinthians he says: "Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is from God, that we might understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths in spiritual terms" (2:12-13). By means of His abiding in our fragile humanity, the Holy Spirit changes us; He intercedes for us; He leads us toward the heights of God (cf. Romans 8:26).

The Spirit of Christ

Our union with Christ is realized by this presence of the Holy Spirit, for He is the Spirit of the Son of God, in whom we are made children. St. Paul speaks of the Spirit of Christ (cf. Romans 8:9), and not only of the Spirit of God. It is obvious: if Christ is the Son of God, His Spirit is also the Spirit of God. Thus, if the Spirit of God -- the Spirit of Christ -- already drew near to us in the Son of God and Son of Man, then the Spirit of God also becomes the spirit of man and touches us; we can enter into the communion of the Spirit. It is as if to say that not only God the Father became visible in the Incarnation of the Son, but also that the Spirit of God revealed Himself in the life and action of Jesus, of Jesus Christ, who lived, was crucified, died and was raised.

Inebriated with the Holy Spirit and Rooted in Christ

The Apostles reminds us that "no one can say 'Jesus is Lord', except by the Holy Spirit" (1 Corinthians 12:3). The Spirit, then, directs our hearts toward Jesus Christ, such that "it is not longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us" (cf. Galations 2:20). In his Catecheses on the Sacraments, reflecting on the Eucharist, St. Ambrose affirms: "He who is inebriated with the Holy Spirit is rooted in Christ" (5,3,17: PL 16, 450).

And now I would like to highlight three consequences for our Christian lives when we allow the Spirit of Christ, and not the spirit of the world, to work in us as the interior principle of all our actions.

Freedom from Fear

First, prayer animated by the Spirit enables us to abandon and to overcome every form of fear and slavery, and so to experience the true freedom of the children of God. Without prayer that nourishes our being in Christ each day in a steadily growing intimacy, we find ourselves in the condition described by St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: we do not do the good we want, but the evil we do not want (cf. Romans 7:19).

The Ability to Follow the Desire for True Joy

And this is the expression of the alienation of the human being, of the destruction of our freedom due to the condition of our being that is brought about by original sin: we want the good that we do not do, and we do what we do not want, evil. The Apostle wants us to understand that it is not our will that first and foremost frees us from this condition, nor is it the Law, but rather the Holy Spirit. And since "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Corinthians 3:17), through prayer we experience the freedom given by the Spirit: an authentic freedom, which is freedom from evil and from sin for the good and for life, for God. The freedom of the Spirit, St. Paul continues, is never identical with libertinism or with the possibility of choosing evil but rather with the "fruit of the Spirit which is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Galatians 5:22). This is true freedom: the ability to actually follow the desire for the good, for true joy, for communion with God and not to be oppressed by the circumstances that take us down other roads.

Suffering

A second consequence that comes about in our lives when we allow the Spirit of Christ to work in us is that our relationship with God becomes so deep that it cannot be affected by any circumstance or situation. We then come to understand that, through prayer, we are not delivered from trials or sufferings, but we are able to live them in union with Christ, with His sufferings, with a view to participating also in His glory (cf. Romans 8:17).

The Impression That We Have Not Been Heard

Many times, in our prayer, we ask God to be freed from physical or spiritual evil, and we do this with great trust. Yet we often have the impression that we have not been heard, and then we run the risk of becoming discouraged and of not persevering. In reality, there is no human cry that God does not hear, and it is precisely in continual and faithful prayer that we come to understand with St. Paul that "the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (Romans 8:18).

God Responds

Prayer does not exempt us from trial and suffering; indeed -- St. Paul says -- we "groan inwardly as we wait for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:23); he says that prayer does not exempt us from suffering, but that prayer allows us to experience it and to face it with new strength, with the same trust as Jesus, who -- according to the Letter to the Hebrews -- "in the days of his flesh offered prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to God who was able to save Him from death, and He was heard on account of his complete abandonment to Him" (5:7). God the Father's response to the Son, to his loud cries and tears, was not deliverance from suffering, from the Cross, from death; rather, it was a much greater fulfillment, a much deeper response; through the Cross and death, God responded with the Resurrection of the Son, with new life. Prayer animated by the Holy Spirit leads us, too, to live the journey of life with its daily trials and suffering in full hope and trust in God, who responds as he responded to the Son.

Intercession

And, third, the prayer of the believer opens out to the dimensions of humanity and of the whole creation, by taking on the "eager longing of creation for the revealing of the sons of God" (Romans 8:19). This means that prayer, sustained by the Spirit of Christ who speaks in our interior depths, never remains closed in upon itself, it is never only prayer for me; rather, it opens out to a sharing in the suffering of our time, of others. It becomes intercession for others, and thus freedom for me; a channel of hope for all creation and the expression of that love of God, which has been poured into our hearts through the Spirit who has been given to us (cf. Romans 5:5). And this is a sign of true prayer, that it does not end in ourselves, but opens out to others and so liberates me, and so helps in the redemption of the world.

The Holy Spirit: Light and Fire of Our Prayer

Dear brothers and sisters, St. Paul teaches us that in our prayer we must open ourselves to the presence of the Holy Spirit, who prays in us with sighs too deep for words, in order to bring us to adhere to God with all our hearts and with all our being. The Spirit of Christ becomes the strength of our "weak" prayer, the light of our "extinguished" prayer, the fire of our "cold and arid" prayer, by giving us true interior freedom, by teaching us to live facing life's trials in the certainty that we are not alone, and by opening us to the horizons of humanity and creation "which groans in travail until now" (Romans 8:22). Thank you.

My very dear Novice Oblate,

This is only my second letter to you from Ireland. I am sure that you understand that it has been difficult for me to "put fingers to keyboard" and write you from what is, essentially, an ongoing construction site here in Stamullen. This time I am writing from Silverstream Priory, the name given here in Ireland to our monastery, which remains, of course, under the patronage of Our Lady of the Cenacle.

Ascension Thursday announces that it is time for us to enter the Upper Room, the Cenacle, with the Apostles and with Mary, the Mother of Jesus, in order to persevere with them in prayer, and to wait for the Promised Gift from on high: the Consoler, the Advocate, the Comforter.

On the Advent of the Holy Spirit

Consider, for a moment, this image of Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament. She is also Our Lady of the Cenacle; her hand are raised in ceaseless prayer and in readiness for the outpouring of the Holy Ghost. You will notice two things. (1) The Infant Christ within His Most Pure Mother represents the nascent Church, the Church enclosed within the Immaculate and Maternal Heart of Mary during the days of retreat in the Cenacle. (2) The holy oblations depicted in this icon remind us that the Church, already in the Cenacle, was nourished and sustained by the mystery of the Most Holy Eucharist.

Enclosed in One Place

Beginning this evening with Second Vespers of the Ascension of the Lord, the Church prays intensely, urgently, insistently for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Obedient to the command of Our Lord, "not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the Promise of the Father" (Ac 1:4), we remain quiet and still, enclosed in one place. We have entered upon a kind of Advent of the Holy Spirit.

Concrete Gestures

This Advent of the Holy Spirit renews us in the desire for silence and separation from the world. The Mother of Jesus and the Apostles sequestered themselves in the Cenacle. They withdrew to a place apart. Each of us is called, according to his state in life, to separation from the world. It is up to each one of you to discover how, given your family life and other obligations, you can withdraw during these nine days from the business and noise that threatens to drown out the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost who would prepare you for His coming.

No two of you will do this in exactly the same way. During these days preceding Pentecost, one must, in some way, find concrete gestures to make the retreat of the Cenacle real. It is useless to speak in vague and idealistic terms of silence and separation from the world, if our actions and choices belie our pious discourse. For one it will be a resolute "no" to the television, to videos, and to an inordinate use of the internet. For another it will be abstinence from reading those things in newspapers and magazines that excite curiosity and leave troubling impressions on the soul. For yet another it will be a more generous application to that costly outward silence that is the price of inward silence. Mothers at home with children may want to invite the little ones to a few moments of silence each day, and introduce them to prayer for the coming of the Holy Ghost by praying with them.

O Rex Gloriae

We are in the Advent of the Holy Spirit, the Advent of the Cenacle. It is no mere coincidence that the second mode melody of the Ascension Magnificat Antiphon, O Rex Gloriae is the very one used for the Great O Antiphons of Advent. The same climate of irrepressible and joyful expectation pervades the Church. "O King of glory, Thou Lord of Sabaoth, who on this day didst ascend with exceeding triumph far above all heavens: we pray Thee leave us not comfortless, but send on us the Promise of the Father, the Spirit of Truth, alleluia" (Magnificat Antiphon, Second Vespers of the Ascension).

The Springtime Advent

Last December, during our winter Advent, we cried out for the coming of Christ, the first Paraclete, the Advocate who is to us Wisdom, Adonai, Root of Jesse, Key of David, Dayspring from on high, King of Nations, and Emmanuel. "I will pray the Father," He said, "and He will give you another Paraclete to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him; you know Him for he dwells with you, and will be in you" (Jn 14:16 17). In this springtime Advent of the Holy Spirit, made bold by the prayer of the risen and ascended Christ on our behalf, we cry out for the other Paraclete, the Comforter sent by the Father to plead our cause.

Veni!

Cry out for the coming of the Father of the Poor, the Giver of Gifts, the Light of hearts, the best of all Consolers, the soul's sweet Guest and gentle refreshment (cf., Pentecost Sequence, Veni, Sancte Spiritus). The Veni Creator repeated every evening at Vespers from Ascension to Pentecost, swells with intensity as the Fiftieth Day, The Pentecost fulfilled, approaches. The whole prayer of the Church during this Advent of the Holy Spirit is, as it were, condensed in a single aspiration rising "out of the depths" (Ps 129:1), Veni!

In the Midst of Chaos

The struggle to find and preserve silence, amidst the invasive noise that threatens the soul's ability to listen, is a much of a challenge for us monks as it is for you, Oblates living in the world. Our little monastery -- Silverstream Priory -- is, at the moment, a construction site. Call it creative chaos. People come and go all day. Guests arrive, and must be welcomed as Christ Himself. (In Ireland that means the ever-ready cup of tea.) Everywhere I turn, I see dust and dirt, things unsorted, boxes yet to be emptied, and unfinished projects. There is the constant pressure of precarious finances and the urgency of finding funds. It would be easy, in the midst of all of this, to give in to a ceaseless mental buzz that foments anxiety and robs the soul of peace. Instead, I am trying, calmly and joyfully, to live in the present moment, and to give that present moment its value of silence, and of attention to The One Thing Necessary.

The Work of the Holy Ghost

During these days of preparation for Pentecost, I would invite you to recite (or sing!) and meditate each day the so-called Golden Sequence, the Veni Sancte Spiritus that precedes the Gospel in the Mass of Pentecost Day. The Holy Spirit comes to help us in our weakness (Rom 8:26). The Advent of the Holy Spirit is our rest in labour; it is coolness in the heat, and solace in our tears. The Holy Spirit comes to wash what is soiled within us, to irrigate what is arid, to heal what is sickly. The Holy Spirit comes to make supple all that is rigid and unbending. The Holy Spirit comes to warm what is cold, and to straighten what is crooked.

When He Comes

True prayer begins when we admit that "we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rom 8:26), and so, all our prayer during these last days before the Pentecost is to remain enclosed in one place, in the Cenacle of the heart, waiting for the Promise of the Father (Ac 1:4). When the Holy Ghost comes, His power will overshadow us; then, filling the innermost secrets of the soul, he will intercede for us with sighs too deep for words (Rom 8:26). We will have begun -- anew -- to pray as we ought.

The Beginning of All Prayer

During this Advent of the Holy Spirit, make the Veni of the Church your own. Open your hearts to the urgency of the Church's prayer for the descent of the Holy Ghost. It is always urgent to pray for the coming of the Holy Ghost. Prayer for the advent of the Holy Spirit --invocation of the Holy Spirit, or epiclesis-- is always pressing, for the Advent of the Holy Spirit is the beginning of all prayer, and apart from the Holy Spirit, "we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rom 8:26).

The Descent of Fire

If, during the coming nine days, we remain enclosed in the Cenacle with the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, and the apostles, if we persevere in the humble prayer of waiting and of beseeching, we will not be disappointed in our hope. When we go to Holy Mass, it is for this: for the Advent of the Holy Spirit over humble gifts of bread and wine, and over ourselves. The consuming Fire descends invisibly over the altar. Holy Mass is the action of the Holy Ghost making us the Body of Christ, the Body in which the whole Mystery of the Head is renewed. Eucharistic adoration intensifies and prolongs the action of the Holy Ghost that is concentrated in the Mass.

Our Lady of the Cenacle

Of one thing I am certain: if I turn to Our Lady of the Cenacle and take refuge in her Maternal Heart, she will share with me the secret of a silence that loves, that listens, that adores, and that praises even in the midst of a hundred different things competing for my attention, my time, and my energy. I would invite you to do the same. Recourse to Our Lady is not complicated: it can be a glance, a movement of the heart, an aspiration in her direction. There is, I think, no better preparation for the outpouring of the Holy Ghost that will be renewed in the Church and in our souls on Pentecost.

In lumine vultus Iesu,
Father Prior

Yesterday, 15 May, was the feast of Saint Dymphna. Here at Silverstream Priory, we are blessed to have and to venerate a first class relic of Saint Dymphna. I wasn't able to post anything about this remarkable Irish saint on her feastday because I was traveling back to the monastery from Knock.

Saint Dymphna is the patron saint of those who suffer from mental illnesses, emotional maladjustment, nervous disorders, and epilepsy. She is also the patrons saint of runaways, and of the victims of incest and other sexual abuse. The following entry, slightly modified here, originally appeared in Tabernacle and Purgatory, published by Benedictines of Clyde, Missouri in May 1946.

The Lily of Fire

ISLE OF SAINTS has long been a title popularly given to the island evangelized by St. Patrick, which nestles in the blue waters of the Atlantic. And appropriately it is so called for the names of the Irish saints would more than fill the Church's calendar. Yet it is to be regretted that Catholics for the most part are entirely unfamiliar with so many of these glorious saints, yes, even ignorant of their very names. One such forgotten or unknown saint, who, on account of her spotless virtue and glorious martyrdom, is sometimes referred to as the "Lily of Fire," is St. Dymphna. True, the records of the life and martyrdom of this holy virgin are for the most part meager and unsatisfactory, but sufficient is known regarding the principal faces of her life and of her many well-authenticated miracles to attest to an exalted sanctity.

A Christian Child

St. Dymphna was born in the 7th century, when Ireland was almost universally Catholic. Yet, strange to say, her father, a petty king of Oriel, was still a pagan. Her mother, a descendant of a noble family, was, on the other hand, a devout Christian., who was remarkable both for her piety and her great beauty. Dymphna was, like her mother, a paragon of beauty, and a most sweet and winning child, the "jewel" of her home. Every affection and attention was lavished upon her from birth. Heaven, too, favored the child with special graces. Dymphna was early placed under the care and tutelage of a pious Christian woman, who prepared her for baptism, which was conferred by the saintly priest Father Gerebran. The latter seems to have been a member of the household, and later taught little Dymphna her letters along with the truths of religion. Dymphna was a bright and eager pupil, and advanced rapidly in wisdom and grace. When still very young, Dymphna, like so many other noble Irish maidens before and after her, being filled with fervor and love for Jesus Christ, chose Him for her Divine Spouse and consecrated her virginity to Him and to His Blessed Mother by a vow of chastity.

Mother's Death

It was not long, however, until an unexpected cloud overshadowed the happy childhood of the beautiful girl. She lost her good mother by death. Many were the secret tears she shed over this bereavement, but at the same time she found great comfort in the Divine Faith which, though she was still of a tender age, already had taken deep root.

Flight from Incest

Dymphna's father, too, greatly mourned his deceased wife and for a long time continued prostrate with grief. At length he was persuaded by his counselors to seek solace in a second marriage. So he commissioned certain ones of his court to seek out for him a lady who would be like his first spouse in beauty and character. After visiting many countries in vain, the messengers returned saying that they could find none so charming and amiable as his own lovely daughter, Dymphna. Giving ear to their base suggestion, the king conceived the evil design of forcing Dymphna into an incestuous relationship with himself. With persuasive and flattering words he manifested his purpose to her. Dymphna, as may be expected, was greatly horrified at the suggestion. She immediately betook herself to Father Gerebran, who advised her to flee from her native country, and since the danger was imminent, he urged her to make no delay.

Belgium

With all speed, therefore, she set out for the continent, accompanied by Father Gerebran, the court jester and his wife. After a favorable passage, they arrived on the coast near the present city of Antwerp. Having stopped for a short rest, they resumed their journey and came to a little village named Gheel. Here they were hospitably received and began to make plans for establishing their future abode at this place.

Martyrdom of Saint Gerebran, Priest

The king, in the meantime, having discovered Dymphna's flight, was fearfully angry, and immediately set out with his followers in search of the fugitives. After some time, they were traced to Belgium and their place of refuge was located. At first, Dymphna's father tried to persuade her to return with him, but Father Gerebran sternly rebuked him for his wicked intentions, whereupon he gave orders that Father Gerebran should be put to death. Without delay, his wicked retainers laid violent hands upon the priest and struck him on the neck with a sword. With one blow of the steel, the head was severed from the shoulders and another glorious martyr went to join the illustrious heroes of Christ's kingdom.

Martyrdom of Saint Dymphna, Virgin

Further attempts on the part of Dymphna's father to induce her to return with him proved fruitless. With undaunted courage she spurned his enticing promises and scorned his cruel threats. Infuriated by her resistance, the father drew a dagger from his belt and he himself struck off the head of his child. Recommending her soul to the mercy of God, the holy virgin fell prostrate at the feet of her insanely raving father. Thus the glorious crown of martyrdom was accorded to St. Dymphna in the fifteenth year of her age, on the fifteenth day of May, between 620 and 640. The day of her death has been assigned as her feastday.

Discovery of the Relics

The records of Dymphna's life and death say that the bodies of the two martyred saints lay on the ground for quite some time after their death, until the inhabitants of Gheel removed them to a cave, which was the customary manner of interment in that part of the world at the time of the martyrdoms. But after several years had elapsed, the villagers, recalling their holy deaths, decided to give the bodies a more suitable burial. When the workmen removed the heap of black earth at the cave's entrance, great was their astonishment to find two most beautiful tombs, whiter than snow, which were carved from stone, as if by angel hands. When the coffin of St. Dymphna was opened there was found lying on her breast a red tile bearing the inscription: "Here lies the holy virgin and martyr, Dymphna."

The remains of the saint were placed in a small church. Later necessity obliged the erection of the magnificent "Church of St. Dymphna," which now stands on the site where the bodies were first buried. St. Dymphna's relics repose there in a beautiful golden reliquary.

Miracles and cures of people afflicted with melancholy, anxiety, and other psychological pathologies and and emotional maladjustments began to occur in continually increasing numbers. Gradually St. Dymphna's fame as patroness of those who suffer from mental illnesses and nervous disorders spread from country to country. More and more emotionally mentally afflicted persons were brought to the shrine by relatives and friends, many coming in pilgrimages from far-distant places. Novenas were made, and St. Dymphna's relic was applied to the patients. The remarkable cures reported caused confidence in the saint to grow daily.

The Miracle of Gheel

At first the patients were lodged in a small annex built onto the church. Then gradually it came about that the patients were place in the homes of the families living in Gheel. From this beginning Gheel developed into a town world-famed for its care of the insane and mentally afflicted. An institution, called the "Infirmary of St. Elizabeth," which was conducted by Canonesses Regular of St. Augustine was later built for the hospital care of the patients. Most of the latter, after some time spent in the institution, are placed in one or other of the families of Gheel, where they lead a comparatively normal life. Every home in Gheel is proud to welcome to its inmost family circle such patients as are ready to return to the environment of family life. Generations of experience have given to the people of Gheel an intimate and tender skill in dealing with their charges, and their remarkable spirit of charity and Christlike love for these afflicted members of society gives to our modern-day world, so prone to put its whole reliance on science and to forge the principles of true Christian charity, a lesson the practice of which would do much to restore certain types of mentally afflicted individuals to an almost normal outlook on life.

On the way back from Knock on Tuesday, the actual feast of Saint Dymphna, we drove through Leitrim and Roscommon. A splendid rainbow appeared in the sky, delighting us with its vivid colours. This photograph doesn't do justice to the sight.

Forward in Hope

Renowned psychiatrists testify that a surprisingly large number of patients could leave mental institutions if they could be assured of a sympathetic reception in the world, such as the people of Gheel take pride in showing. In fact, psychiatrists state that institutions can help certain cases only to a given extent, and when that point is reached, they must have help from persons outside the institution if the progress made in the institution is to have fruition.

This evening here in Knock, it was very humbling, and an immense joy to hear thirty or more priests from various parts of Ireland pray together the Act of Adoration for Priests with which we begin our time of adoration in the monastery each day.

Act of Adoration for Priests

Lord Jesus Christ, Priest and Victim,
behold, I kneel before Thy Eucharistic Face
on behalf of all Thy priests,
and especially those priests of Thine,
who at this moment are most in need
of Thy grace.
(N. and N.)
For them and in their place,
allow me to remain,
adoring and full of confidence,
close to Thy Open Heart,
hidden in this, the Sacrament of Thy Love.

Through the Maternal and Immaculate
Heart of Mary,
our Advocate and the Mediatrix of All Graces,
pour forth upon all the priests of Thy Church
that torrent of mercy that ever flows
from Thy pierced side:
to purify and heal them,
to refresh and sanctify them,
and, at the hour of their death,
to make them worthy of joining Thee
before the Father in the heavenly sanctuary
beyond the veil (Hb 6:19)
where Thou art always living
to make intercession
for us (Hb 7:25). Amen.

Eucharistic Face of Jesus, sanctify Thy priests!

Désiré-Joseph Cardinal Mercier (1851-1926) was Archbishop of Malines, Belgium from 1906 until his death. Besides the heroic leadership he demonstrated during World War I, Cardinal Mercier hosted the famous Catholic-Anglican dialogue known as the Malines Conversations, and obtained the establishment of the liturgical feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mediatrix of All Graces with its proper Mass and Office. His spiritual mentor was Blessed Dom Columba Marmion.

Once, when someone asked Cardinal Mercier how much time what ought to spend on prayer, he replied: Il faut donner à l'oraison autant de temps que l'on peut -- One must give to prayer as much time as one can.

To someone else, he said: Ce n'est qu'après trois ou quatre heures de prière que viennent les grandes lumières, -- It is only after three or four hours of prayer that the great lights come.

The renovation of the monastery is a collaborative long term work. We are blessed with a winning team. Here, in the priory church under renovation, you see our brilliant architect, Adrian Buckley together with a young Spanish intern from his office.

Studying plans in the garden outside the priory church are (left to right): Frank Brennan (Project Manager); Father Prior; Sean Ascough (Engineer); and Adrian Buckley (Architect).

View of the priory church. Beyond the white metal fence is the monastic cemetery. The nave of the church will contain the monastic choir. Two transepts, to the right and left of the sanctuary (not visible) will be reserved for visitors. The priory grounds seen here will be part of the monastic enclosure, open to outsiders only for the procession on the feast of Corpus Christi and similar outdoor liturgical processions.

Here you see the side of the priory facing east. On the lower level you see the windows of the refectory. On the first level you see the windows of the temporary Oratory. Once the renovation of the church is complete, the temporary Oratory will become the library.

It has been a while since last I posted a text of our Benedictine Teresa of Avila, Mother Mectilde de Bar (1614-1698). While Mectilde de Bar has much in common with the great Spanish Madre -- a plucky zeal for monastic reform, courage in making new foundations, and the sublimest mystical graces -- she also has much in common with Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, the 24 year old Doctor of the Church. Consider, for example, this text from a conference given in 1662 by Mother Mectilde for the 2nd Sunday after Pascha.

Oh . . . what happiness to know Jesus Christ! This knowledge is acquired not by the elevation of our thoughts; some souls use these as wings to fly aloft to God, thinking that by doing this they will lay hold of Him.

No, no! We must, if we would grow strong, remain like little birds, tender and weak, in the nest of our nothingness. Believe in the the gift of divine love that will warm up the heart and make our wings robust to take our flight towards God. One must do like the phoenix, who finds life in his death.

Mother Mectilde's doctrine announces that of Saint Thérèse. We ascend to God not by dint of ascetical exploits or abstruse theological meditations, but by the humility that attracts the condescending and merciful love of God.

The visit of the Pudewa Family from Oklahoma -- Andrew, Robin, Christopher, and Elizabeth -- came wrapped in the graces of Holy Week and Pascha. Robin is an Oblate of the monastery.

During the first days of unpacking, demolition, and construction, we ate all together in the kitchen. Here from left to right are: Andrew Pudewa, Robin Pudewa, Father Prior, Pat Cullen, Brother Benedict, J.B. Kelly, and Kevin Symonds. We have since moved into the refectory.

Chris Pudewa and John Kelly engage in a little lighthearted comedy during a demolition job. At one point we had two men named John Kelly working in the house at the same time: J.B. Kelly from Missouri, and John Kelly from County Limerick.

Here is our kitchen. You can see that it needs work. There are no counters or usable cabinets for food preparation and storage. The arrangement of the sink (not shown) is very impractical. The kitchen needs to be renovated completely. The new refrigerator was a gift from our neighbours Mary and Bill.