For the May Full Flower Moon tonight

 The May Full Flower Blood Super Moon tonight so this one calls me....

The Path of Lady Moon.

Will you take 

the old path 

of 

the Moon?

The path 

of poetry 

and prayer;

of myth, 

and magic,

of beauty, 

and blessing,

known only to 

monks, 

and mages,

and mystics,

and mothers,

and those who 

keep the vigil

of the long small hours?

Will you sit 

beneath 

her 

golden benediction

and receive her gift of 

stillness,

as you watch her dissolve 

into emptiness 

monthly? 

Will you let her 

teach you,

and all upon

this heart harried Earth, 

to trust

in Resurrection?

Will you bask 

in her 

pure light,

that invites 

you across 

the ocean of dream

to read 

the sacred circles 

of her 

graced Gospel

inscribed by angelic art

upon her

pale pure visage,

long before 

she smiled upon 

those sleeping spouses,

newly named,

and vigilled Eden's first 

dew drenched dawn?

Will you allow 

her light

to illume your life 

with the

silent music

of the forest

when, 

vested in deepest

midnight

and filigreed

in silver, 

the leaves dance in

the liturgy

of life and offer 

their

praise in whispered

choir?

Will you let her shining

tears

wash you in their tides

and beckon you 

to walk upon

the waves from 

storm to still,

as once she shone 

upon His face

and lit His way upon 

the waters?

Will you take 

the old path of 

the Moon,

and touch there the holy 

footprints 

of the Mother 

and the Maiden

and the Queen,

whose orb she proudly is,

in royal resplendence

hung beneath her 

mantled might

and starry crown,

and find

remembrance 

there of 

all that is

and was 

and will be,

in the embrace 

of a mother

and her

son,

as the first 

gift of grace.

Look up and see

my brother,

Look up and see

my sister,

the soul sky is never 

so dark,

that

the old path of the Moon,

the path of blessing,

always ancient 

and ever new,

may not 

be taken

nightly.

May Thoughts

              May Thoughts:

Even our sister Mother Earth speaks of the Heavenly Mother often and keeps her ever before us for those with eyes to see... a shadow of stone, a shape in the clouds, an angle in the crook of a tree, a turning of the head or the rising and falling of the light, these are the sermons of the earth and they always reveal her. In these gentle whisperings she is always near... always watching over us... always leading us to her Son... always calling us home... always calling us into the embrace of the sacred totality of her yes to God.

Here, Now, In; 3 Doors to Presence

3 Doors to Contemplative Presence:

Here.

Now.

In.

There is only one time: Now.

There is only one place: Here

There is only one direction: In

There is only one time: Now.

The past can only become a source of wisdom, after that it is left in the hands of Divine Mercy...

The future is hidden, but belongs to Divine Providence... 

So worry and anxiety are useless. 

God intends the best for you and will not deny any gift or grace that will enable you to become all you are meant to be. 

What we perceive as a "No" in prayer to a desire is really always a "Yes" to the fulfilment of the desire in a better and deeper way than we could have imagined at that time.

The Present arises from the moment by moment loving attention of Divine Compassion... 

Your "job" is to get past the distractions so as to see the Now for what it is: 

Divine Love in action... 

Co-operate with this Love that is God, 

yield to it fully and be faithful to its call 

and the present becomes an infinite space 

of encounter with the God who IS Love.

There is only one place: Here

You are nowhere but here. 

Here, wherever it is for you in this moment we call now, is the place of Divine Encounter. 

It is your desert, your temple, your tabernacle, your burning bush. 

“God", said St. Bonaventure, "is One whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere." 

Divine Presence is always fully present to you. You are just distracted by all the thoughts and desires of egoic nature that would have you yearn to be elsewhere in different circumstances. 

If you are here then so is God and your here is where He will work with and through you for the building of the kingdom, if you but tune in and know; and it is this attendance to the present moment that changes our circumstances. 

If you are in a place of trauma or pain then this may require physically moving from that space. But you are never journeying to God. God is with you here in your pain and with deep listening to Him right here, right now the path and call to move and to heal will be made clear.

He is where you are 

that you may be one day 

consciously where He IS.

There is only one direction: In.

All other directions are limited. 

Eventually we tire of them, 

we exhaust them and are exhausted by them.

We discover that they are fading and will one day fade completely. 

All except In. 

Only In lasts. 

Only In is. 

In is the direction that brings us to the true self, and through the true self to the place of stillness and emptiness and clarity, 

beyond the false and fallen self, 

where we finally know our true centre, our heart, 

beholding it in the Light of Divine Love 

from which it first arose as a perfect idea. 

We were eternally an idea in the Divine Mind, 

a movement of the infinitely creative love that we call God, 

who in the fullness of time 

brought us into being, 

loved us into being, 

holds us in being in Love 

and calls us to abide in Love eternally. 

In teaches us who we are. 

We discover we are love loved by Love. 

All other names may change, 

all other circumstances 

may come and go, 

arise and fall, 

change and even disappear. 

Only love is eternal. 

Only In In brings us to the source of real Love.

There is only one time: Now.

There is only one place: Here

There is only one direction: In

My Gran and the Christmas Invitation

My Gran and the Christmas Invitation:

Today, St. Stephen’s day is a very sacred one in our family… not just because of the first Martyr’s witness and passing to the Lord, but because it is also my Gran’s anniversary.

My Mother’s mother, she was, (and is), one of the greatest influences in my life growing up.

I have always regarded Gran as one of my first and best teachers, not only in the ways of faith but even on the contemplative path within it. 

Many, many hours were spent with her, listening to her stories and imbibing her teaching (though she would never have called it that… she simply taught by her very being, as all good elders do). Faith for her was as natural as breathing, and indeed, if you listened as closely as I often did to her whistled breathing as she went about her day, a short prayer to the Sacred Heart or to Our Lady was often just beneath the surface of her breath.

Like her own Mother and Grandmother before her she was a “sharp woman”, as they used to say in Dublin, meaning a wise person and one with a direct line to the Spiritual world. 
Her mother was sought out amongst the Dublin flats as she had “the way” of helping difficult births and deaths and was often asked for advice about a “match” between couples as she had a “good eye” for these things.

Gran was no different and there were many times I would go over to her house to find her sitting beside the phone waiting for the call that would tell her so and so had died. She, of course, already knew as she had “the dream” the previous night… the phone call always came to confirm it and I soon learned to be used to it. 
On other occasions I would arrive to hear her chatting aloud with someone only to discover her alone by the fire when I entered the room.

I never asked.

She never said.

We didn’t need to.

She taught me those ways too. 
“Look into the fire and tell me what you see” she would say, and then smile when, to my surprise, I saw. 

She taught me to look at people’s eyes when they spoke and at the way they stood and moved. 
She had tremendous devotion to the Blessed Virgin who had “been through it all” and her prayers to her were not so much novenas or devotions as a constant conversation born of a life long trust. She had great respect for the friars and religious orders much preferring their churches in town where she could attend anonymously, not liking the front seat parish people as she called them. 
She reminded me often never to judge anyone and taught me to give to the poor, especially beggars in the street. 
“There’s always a story there,” she would say, 
“No one is on the street because they want to be.” 
Women were on the street or poor because, 
“Men put them there.” 
Men were on the street or poor because, 
“Most men are fools for the bottle or for a story.” 
No matter the reason they were to be listened to and helped.

She had been sharp in other ways too. A hard life and losing her husband early on had made her hard in her mid-life and it was only as a Gran that she softened again. In her later years she would often tell me that she was glad she got to be a Gran after everything she had been through.

She often worried about her death. She was not afraid to die. 
"No one dies alone", she would say. 
She had seen enough deaths to know that, 
“They come to collect you.” 

She was, however, afraid that she would die in the house and that I or another grandchild would find her. So for the last few years of her life she prayed everyday the “Thirty day’s prayer” to Our Lady for a happy death and listed the way she wanted to go:

She wanted to die in her sleep so she could “wake up in Heaven”.

She wanted to die alone but having said her goodbyes and surrounded by love.

She wanted to be ready to go.

She talked about it often, not in a morbid way, but in the way you recite your shopping list.

Going and coming were natural in their very essence and death she had long taught and lived was nothing to be afraid of for a Christian soul.

That Christmas she had been very unwell.

Pneumonia had followed a chest and kidney infection and a stay in hospital was called for. She did not want to go but acquiesced at my Mum’s request. Feeling a little better after a few days of antibiotics she was to be released for Christmas by the Docs even though Mum was not happy that she was ready. She came home to us. She was weak and a slim figure of her former self though I still wondered at the muscled arms of her small frame, a result of countless years of housework when that still meant a physical ordeal. She spent most of the next couple of day’s in bed sleeping. She smiled a lot and we got to visit with her and hold her hand and chat. 
Christmas Eve came and her children and grandchildren all visited with presents and smiles and the occasional worried whispered conversation with my Mum and Dad as to how she was doing. Christmas Day she was very quiet and slept a lot. As the house was beginning to settle down she called my Mum into the room and very deliberately and unusually for a woman of her time thanked her for all she had done and told her she loved her. My Mum was somewhat taken aback but at that moment Gran asked her who it was that was standing behind her. 
There was no one there that Mum could see. 
Gran’s eyes focused on the spot behind her and she relaxed.

“It’s alright,” Gran said, “I know them.”

Mum said her smile was a beautiful thing at that moment.

She told Mum, “You can go down to the family now, I’m fine”.

Mum did, though to the end of her own days she often wondered why she did. 

As she went downstairs she could hear Gran talking quietly in the room.

Later Mum checked in on her to find her sleeping deeply and gently.

That night a Blackbird sang outside the house all night.

I remember looking out to try and see it.

I could not.

I should have known.

Gran had often taught me to watch out for Blackbirds.

“They are special to our family,” she would say, 
“Your Grandfather loved them and they come to warn us of things.”

“Whenever you see one, say a prayer to your Grandad.”

I still do.

The following morning, very early, Mum woke suddenly and went straight to check on her.

Gran had passed away.

She was still warm and she was smiling gently.

Mum called for the Priest and the Doctor and then carefully woke us all. I still remember that there were no tears in the house that morning. It all felt very peaceful and quiet. The Priest administered the Last Rites as he felt that she had only just gone before Mum found her. 
A little later myself and Mum stood in the room with Gran looking out the window. 

On the lawn a hen Blackbird was hopping around.

We smiled at that.

“Well”, I said, “She certainly got the death she had wanted!”

Mum told me then about the things that had happened the previous night and about Gran seeing someone in her room.

Someone who had made her smile.

“Do you think it was Grandad?” I asked.

At that moment, right in front of us, a Cock Blackbird, all shiny and bright yellow beaked flew down beside the Hen on the lawn outside. They greeted each other and flew off  together.

After that there was nothing else to say.

Gran had gotten the death she had asked for and we had received the little signs of her going.

In Ireland there has always been the custom of the “Cuireadh na Nollaig” the so called “Christmas Invitation” the feeling that a death at this time of the year is especially blessed and that the signs around it are powerful. Today, almost thirty years later I write this so that this story of my Gran’s passing may be remembered and may bring peace and hope to all who read it…

And perhaps the next time you see a Blackbird you might say a prayer for all your loved ones gone before you…

(Photo unattributed found on google)

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation Poem for Christmas Eve, Eve.

On the Edge of Waiting.
(A Meditation Poem for Christmas Eve, Eve)

Shhh...
Come away a moment,
my friend.
Come away
from the lights,
and the crowds,
and the shops,
and the noise,
and the pressure,
and the worrries,
and the old wounds that
winter us
before our time.
Come and sit with me here.
Rest.
Just for a moment.
Let me share with you once again
what we forget in our festive
frenzy:
He is coming…
Down the long ages of despair
He comes as Hope.
Down the rough road of doubt
He comes as Faith.
Down the broken byways
of the
human heart
He comes as Love.
He is coming…
Sit with me on the edge of waiting…
Sit in sacred stillness…
Breathe the deep breath of
blessing.
You do not have to do anything.
He is coming…
Whether you are ready or not
Aware or not,
Able or not,
Present or not,
Believing or not,
He is coming…
As the sun rises,
as the moon shines,
as the tides turn,
as the stars dance,
He is coming…
So do not worry.
Let the tyranny of
tension
fall from you…
You never needed to carry it.
Let the false face of
righteous readiness to defend,
dissolve.
You never needed to wear it.
How could you ever be ready
for this?
For the first proclamation of the
Kingdom to be heard in a baby’s
cry.
Nothing is asked of you
but
to be here and now
who you are.
Truly.
Fully.
Broken?
Yes.
Weak?
Yes.
Called?
Oh yes.
He is coming…
And He is calling you to come to Him.
As He always does.
As He always will.
So, how will you greet Him,
the One who is coming?
The One who calls you,
to His crib.
(Yes, you.)
Will you prepare a place for Him?
Will you open the cave of your heart to Him?
Will you place Him in the sanctuary of your soul?
Will you lay Him upon the rough straw of your life?
Will you swaddle Him with your silence?
Will you offer Him the gentle warmth of animal breath?
Will you offer Him your love?
Or not.
He is coming…
Do not miss the moment
Of Mystery’s
mangered birth
by succumbing to
Bethlehem busyness.
No.
Become as still as a shepherd watching the flock of slumbering sheep.
Become as still as a sage watching the long dance of the stars.
Become as still as Joseph hearing Angels on the edge of dreams.
Become as still as she who is the stillpoint of love’s longing, filled with light,
and whose silence
brought forth the
Word of Love.
Be still and you will know
He is coming…
Always…
In stillness,
on the edge of waiting…
He is coming for you…
He is coming to you…
Always.
He is coming in Love.

(I wrote this last year and just discovered it has been shared over 1000 times on FB! As it seems to be something we all need to hear I'm posting it again. May its words continue to bless all who read it... Happy Christmas Eve, Eve to all)
Brother Richard

O Emmanuel: A meditation on the seventh of the Great O Antiphons of Advent.

O Emmanuel!

You who are God with us,

Come and deliver your people!

All holy one

who dwells higher

than the Cherubim,

adored by the living fire of the

Seraphim in love

so exultant it enflames all

it touches,

you who hide behind

the cloud and thunder of Sinai,

lest we would die

in awe,

descend now

and reveal at last

your face to us

our Saviour!

O Emmanuel!

Name by which

we would never

have named you,

so awesome is your mystery;

and yet, this name you choose

and place upon your

prophet who speaks it as sign

through lips of flame.

Descending into our nature

so to raise it on high;

our God above,

beyond,

before

you are,

yet now revealed as

with us

in our every moment,

as in your incarnation

eternity weds time

and heals the long broken

human heart

consecrating the cosmic 

temple anew.

O Emmanuel!

Love incarnate

and light from light!

You fill all things,

and all things 

have their being in you,

yet you choose us

for your family

and come to dwell in us

through the mystery 

of a mother’s love!

For nine moons

at play in that sacred pool,

ever unrippled 

and undisturbed,

you hallow

the waters of the womb 

again

and in its sacred darkness 

dance,

making of the one who builds you

from her own blood

and feeds you on her own milk

the first tabernacle from

which all of us 

will feed!

O Emmanuel!

Hear us on this seventh

and most sacred night,

as we complete 

the circle of 

our sacred invocations,

closing at last the wreath 

of evergreen time,

and gather once again

at star-rise to call you

from the heavens

and down the winding roads

of our long hoping

to be born in us again!

O hear our song

sung from the heart

of humbled humanity

that we, who have in you

our very God with us,

may learn the wisdom from

your prophet promised

and thrice holy mother,

to bow our heads

and enter Bethlehem’s barn

and there be with the One

who in love’s divine mystery

is always and ever

with us.

“O Emmanuel, our king and our lawgiver,

the hope of the nations and their Saviour:

Come and save us, O Lord our God!”

O King of the Nations, O Rex Gentium: A meditation on the sixth of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

O King of the Nations!

Long desired one we call to you!

Come from

your Royal Throne

and reign over us!

You who are the beginning

and the end of all;

the first principle

and the fount of all that is!

Come, we pray,

and restore the

divine order of this cosmos,

long thrown into chaos

by the discordant note

of our sin.

O King of the Nations!

Of old known by so many names

and in so many places sought!

Desired in the hearts

of all peoples, of all times

and

templed in the souls 

of all those ancient elders,

men and women of

justice,

peace,

and truth.

Tear down, then

the veils of separation

and reveal your holy name

to all,

as you did to Moses,

that from the many nations

there may be formed

one peaceful people,

one flock,

beneath the loving gaze of

the Good Shepherd.

O King of the Nations!

Come and be our cornerstone!

Take our lost

and tumbling efforts

and re-found, re-form,

our crumbling clay

in your divine matrix

that humbled,

we may stand tall again

and find our place

within your temple

as living stones

once more!

O King of the Nations!

Hear our sacred invocation

as we sing the royal hymn of the Lady,

she who is your Queen and Mother both!

Let us follow her 

in magnifying your power

in its paradox of grace!

For you,

O Conquering Messiah,

in your stabled birth

will teach us the true path

of kingship,

and bestow upon our nature

a royal dignity

never to be taken away!

So then,

may we become, again,

as once we were,

the highest gift

and twice blessed

in our being

by following your

descending

path to the lowest point

of emptiness

and there,

between the

breathing of the beasts

and the beating of a Mother’s

heart,

beneath the star-stilled sky,

and

only there,

come at last

to hear the

Angels

exult

in true royalty

revealed

as Love.

“O King of the Nationsand their desire,

the cornerstone making both one:

Come and save the human race,

which you fashioned from clay.”

St. Nicholas Dawn

Feast of St. Nicholas the great Santa Claus himself today...
Always reminds me of that one morning I was privileged to encounter him some years ago...

St. Nicholas Dawn

On the sixth morn of the
month that's dark,
while walking in that hallowed park,
and breathing deep the icy air
I felt the grace of Nicholas there.

I stood a moment in the frost
and felt the yearning of the lost
on land or sea who wandering go,
whose minds and hearts are often low,

as, gripped within by sadness grey,
they stumble through another day
and
long to feel the gift of light
break in upon their inner night.

Then feeling deep their dark and pain
I vowed to ne'r come there again,
until I felt him standing there
all bright against the freezing air.

A bishop robed in red was he,
who looked with kindness upon me,
while leaning on his gnarled staff
his beard it shook as he did laugh,
and said in tone of deepest cheer,
"Why, what on earth do we have here?"

"A little friar out in the cold,
whose failing heart is not so bold,
for overcome with grief is he
for those whose lives in darkness be,
and those who know the belly's wail,
and those who sit alone in jail,
and those whose hearts know only pain,
and those who sleep outside in rain,
and those who fear the stronger power,
and those who nearer feel death's hour!"

And scarce he spoke, but I replied,
"Tis true you see what lies inside!"
"But what can I do next to you,
who dwell above the azure blue,
and as a saint may do so much
to bring the light and healing touch
of Heaven' s blessing earthward sent,
to those whose lives by pain are rent?"

At this, his face it darkened then,
as though despairing of all men,
like me who seek a grace to flow,
but far too often still say no
when called to be a mirror through,
the poor, the lame, the sickened too,
will see a glimpse of heaven's light
that lifts them from the pit of night.

Then as I stood before his face
he touched my heart and blessed this place,
and said, "It's right that this you know,
that saint I am and saint I go,
throughout the world both night and day,
to hear the cries of those who pray
and then I bring their yearning strong
to Him who seeks to right their wrong,
and sent am I by His right hand
to all the hearts within the land,
who gentled are by graces dear
and shed their sweet impassioned tear,
that they would know their call is this,
to enter into Heaven's bliss,
by healing, helping, lifting, raising
listening, watching, minding, saving
the weak, the poor, the little child,
as I did here before I died."

"For this they call me Santa Claus,
I who kept sweet Heaven's laws,
and now I pass them onto you
O little one, who now dares to
extend a hand that helps and heals,
and so the light of God reveals,
to let each poor one deeply know
that Christ their saviour bowed so low,
that babe he came in frost and cold
our Shepherd King, who serves the fold,
and in His mother's arms did cry
for all the sheep, for you and I,
and none He lost, and none forgot
not even those who choose the lot
of greed, and pride, and selfish gain,
for them He offered every pain."

"So come my friend and stand with me
beneath the branches of this tree,
and we shall watch the dawn arise
and light grow in the eastern skies,
and pray, and psalm, and praise again
the One who is the light of men!"

At this the old man smiled at me,
standing 'neath the ancient tree.
As in my heart again I vowed
to cry to all with voice aloud,
of Him who loves us deep and well;
to be a Christmas tolling bell,
that rings and calls both one and all
to heed that ancient Yuletide call,
to light each other's gathering dark
and share within the healing spark,
which He first kindled with His breath,
The One who broke the power of death!

Then as the light grew all around
I seemed to hear a merry sound,
of bells, or chimes from out the air
and laughter deep that saints do share,
and gone he was, my Bishop bright,
there at the dawning of the light,
So I was left once more alone,
filled with a song of Heaven's tone,
that flames within my heart so bright
I fear not now no lack of light!
And forth I went to sing this lay
of the light that shone on Nicholas' Day.

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation for Christmas Eve, Eve.

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation for Christmas Eve, Eve.

Shhh.

Come away a moment,

my friend.

Come away

from the lights,

and the crowds,

and the shops,

and the noise,

and the pressure,

and the worrries,

and the old wounds that

winter us

before our time.

Come and sit with me here.

Rest.

Just for a moment.

Let me share with you once again

what we forget in our festive

frenzy:

He is coming…

Down the long ages of despair

He comes as Hope.

Down the rough road of doubt

He comes as Faith.

Down the broken byways

of the

human heart

He comes as Love.

He is coming…

Sit with me on the edge of waiting…

Sit in sacred stillness…

Breathe the deep breath of

blessing.

You do not have to do anything.

He is coming…

Whether you are ready or not

Aware or not,

Able or not,

Present or not,

Believing or not,

He is coming…

As the sun rises,

as the moon shines,

as the tides turn,

as the stars dance,

He is coming…

So do not worry.

Let the tyranny of

tension

fall from you…

You never needed to carry it.

Let the false face of

righteous readiness to defend,

dissolve.

You never needed to wear it.

How could you ever be ready

for this?

For the first proclamation of the

Kingdom to be heard in a baby’s

cry.

Nothing is asked of you

but

to be here and now

who you are.

Truly.

Fully.

Broken?

Yes.

Weak?

Yes.

Called?

Oh yes.

He is coming…

And He is calling you to come to Him.

As He always does.

As He always will.

So, how will you greet Him,

the One who is coming?

The One who calls you,

to His crib.

(Yes, you.)

Will you prepare a place for Him?

Will you open the cave of your heart to Him?

Will you place Him in the sanctuary of your soul?

Will you lay Him upon the rough straw of your life?

Will you swaddle Him with your silence?

Will you offer Him the gentle warmth of animal breath?

Will you offer Him your love?

Or not.

He is coming…

Do not miss the moment

Of Mystery’s

mangered birth

by succumbing to

Bethlehem busyness.

No.

Become as still as a shepherd watching the flock of slumbering sheep.

Become as still as a sage watching the long dance of the stars.

Become as still as Joseph hearing Angels on the edge of dreams.

Become as still as she who is the stillpoint of love’s longing, filled with light.

Be still and you will know

He is coming…

Always…

In stillness,

on the edge of waiting…

He is coming for you…

He is coming to you…

Always.

He is coming in Love.

St. Nicholas Dawn

Feast of St. Nicholas, Santa Claus himself today...
Always reminds me of that moment I met him...

St. Nicholas Dawn

On the sixth morn
of the month that's dark,
while walking in that hallowed park,
and breathing deep the icy air,
I felt the grace of Nicholas there.
I stood a moment in the frost
and felt the yearning of the lost
on land or sea who wandering go,
whose minds and hearts are often low,
as gripped within by sadness grey
they stumble through another day
and long to feel the gift of light
break in upon their inner night.
Then feeling deep their dark and pain
I vowed to ne'r come there again,
until I felt him standing there
all bright against the freezing air.
 A bishop robed in red was he,
who looked with kindness upon me,
while leaning on his gnarled staff
his beard it shook as he did laugh,
and said in tone of deepest cheer,
"Why, what on earth do we have here?"
" A little friar out in the cold,
whose failing heart is not so bold,
for overcome with grief is he
for those whose lives in darkness be,
and those who know the belly's wail,
and those who sit alone in jail,
and those whose hearts know only pain,
and those who sleep outside in rain,
and those who fear the stronger power,
and those who nearer feel death's hour!"
 And scarce he spoke, but I replied,
"Tis true you see what lies inside!"
"But what can I do next to you,
who dwell above the azure blue,
and as a saint may do so much
to bring the light and healing touch
of Heaven' s blessing earthward sent,
to those whose lives by pain are rent?"
At this, his face it darkened then,
as though despairing of all men,
like me who seek a grace to flow,
but far to often still say no
when called to be a mirror through,
the poor, the lame, the sickened too,
will see a glimpse of heaven's light
that lifts them from the pit of night.
Then as I stood before his face
he touched my heart and blessed this place,
and said, "Its right that this you know,
that saint I am and saint I go,
throughout the world both night and day,
to hear the cries of those who pray
and then I bring their yearning strong
to Him who seeks to right their wrong,
and sent am I by His right hand
to all the hearts within the land
who gentled are by Graces dear
and shed their sweet impassioned tear,
that they would know their call is this,
to enter into Heaven's bliss,
by healing, helping, lifting, raising
listening, watching, minding,saving
the weak, the poor, the little child,
as I did here before I died."
"For this they call me Santa Claus,
I who kept sweet Heaven's laws,
and now I pass them onto you
O little one, who now dares to
extend a hand that helps and heals,
and so the light of God reveals,
to let each poor one deeply know
that Christ their saviour bowed so low,
that babe he came in frost and cold
our Shepherd King, who serves the fold,
and in His mother's arms did cry
for all the sheep, for you and I;
and none He lost, and none forgot
not even those who chose the lot
of greed, and pride, and selfish gain,
for them He offered every pain."
"So come my friend and stand with me
beneath the branches of this tree,
and we shall watch the dawn arise
and light grow in the eastern skies,
and pray, and psalm, and praise again
the One who is the light of men!"
At this the old man smiled at me,
standing 'neath the ancient tree.
As in my heart again I vowed
to cry to all with voice aloud,
of Him who loves us deep and well;
to be a Christmas tolling bell
that rings and calls both one and all
to heed that ancient Yuletide call,
to light each other's gathering dark
and share within the healing spark,
which He first kindled with His breath,
the One who broke the power of death!
Then as the light grew all around
I seemed to hear a merry sound,
of bells, or chimes from out the air
and laughter deep that saints do share,
and gone he was, my Bishop bright,
there at the dawning of the light,
So I was left once more alone,
filled with a song of Heaven's tone,
that flames within my heart so bright
I fear not now no lack of light!
And forth I went to sing this lay
of the light that shone on Nicholas' Day.

A meditation and blessing for New Year's Eve

What of last year?

Be not afraid

to

let it go.

All of it;

the joys and the sorrows,

the burdens and the blessings.

Put them down gently 

and,

with reverence,

place them 

into the wounded hands

of Divine Mercy 

and then receive back

from

the source of all Love

the only real gift

that you may bring 

into 

the New Year;

wisdom

What of the New Year?

Be not afraid...

but, 

enter it with joy.

Welcome all of the gifts 

it waits to bestow, 

knowing that, 

when you rest secure in the infinite love that dwells in the wounded heart of Divine Mercy, 

then all 

becomes grace;

the joys and the sorrows, 

the burdens and the blessings,

and you will receive back 

from the source of all Love

the only real gift

that any year can bring;

wisdom.

Tonight, 

however you choose to spend it, alone or with others, 

in quiet introspection 

or in loud celebration, 

in the moment 

between 

last year 

and new year, 

breathe deep, 

pause,

and know that in places 

all over the world 

you are being held in prayer 

Blessings of wisdom on your New Year!

Homily for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve Jubilee Year of Mercy

Christmas Blessings to one and all!

Here is the sermon I gave at Midnight Mass at our friary last night...

May it bless you and yours. +

Brother Richard

 Christmas Eve 2015 The Year of Mercy

Our God bows low…

This is the message of Christmas Night…

The One who is the Lord of Lords, and the Light from Light from all eternity;

the One who is the only begotten Son and the Eternal Word of the Father bows low…

Bows because of us…

Bows before us…

He bows so low that He descends, emptying Himself of all that would keep Him separate from us,

of all that would make us feel unworthy, or lost, or shameful…

The awful and terrible All-Holy presence in the Garden of Eden who sent Adam and Eve hurrying to hide their fallen selves now hides Himself in our flesh.

The voice of thunder upon the Mountain of Sinai that made all those who heard it throw themselves on the ground in fear while they begged Moses to pray that they would never hear it again is now heard in the cry and gurgle of new born baby.

The One whose luminous glory filled the Temple and whose reign transcends space and time chooses the deep rich darkness of a woman’s womb and delivered into time is now swaddled against the night’s cold and barely fills the manger He lies in…

Our God bows low…

He has descended to be with us, to seek us out.

He has descended to raise us up…

The Word became Flesh and dwelt amongst us…

Amongst us sinners!

We who were meant to be the joyous light filled pinnacle of creation but who had fallen to the lowest place of darkness and despair, now find ourselves called out of darkness and into His own wonderful light…

And His light is not the proud light of glory, but the gentle glow of lantern in a stable that is really only a little cave; just a crack in the earth that over the ages will crack the hardest of hearts open if they just hear its call…

Our God bows low…

He bows down to raise us up,

He empties Himself so that we may be filled,

He leaves the 99 to seek the One who is lost.

He comes not as conqueror or Lord, though He is truly both;

but only as Shepherd, Healer, Teacher, Carpenter…

Child…

But we forget…

we forget this every year…

every day…

even, perhaps, every moment…

We fail to hear the cry of the newborn calling us to this new beginning and so we need our Christmas celebration… and perhaps this year we need it like never before… we need its reminder of the Love and mercy that is poured into our world. The infinite Love and Mercy which sustains it and nourishes it and heals it and renews it in every moment…

We need it to call us to watch with the Shepherds and the Wise men for that glimmer of light in the sky of our souls, for that song of the Angels that we stopped singing a long time ago when we fell from the Eden of our innocence. It’s harmony has always been there just at the edge of hearing, on the threshold of our dreams, resting within our heart waiting to burst forth again and renew us with the light of Christmas, the light of Christ Mass, the light of the Child of Bethlehem who makes everything new and whose light the darkness can never overpower.

We seek that light in every Christmas bulb kindled on tree or shop-front or street corner, in every sparkle of tinsel or flame of hearth even when we do so un-remembering why it has ever been our human need to light lamps at the darkest time over the countless ages of our longing for He who is the Light for our darkness…

So how do we touch this mystery the Word Made Flesh, this mystery of mercy made flesh in our midst?

How can we, the cynical and the proud, the lazy and the lost, the anxious and the tired recover this gift offered to us in every moment?

We must come to the crib…

Do not hold back…

Do not let our sins hold us back…

We have been invited…

There is a place for us…

If there were not, if it were only a place for the holy and sainted then there would have been no shepherds, those unclean men of the fields and the hills, always excluded from the town and the temple.

Yet they are the first called, the first Apostles of the Lord who speak face to face with Angels and bring the message of the miracle to the people round about and to us…

Down through the centuries that message they were given comes to us again and speaks to us all the louder in these days of war and violence and so much pain:

“Glory to God in the Highest Heaven, and Peace to all people of good will!”

If we were not invited there would have been no Ox, no Donkey, for us to find ourselves between… they have their place there by right… they the only honoured witnesses to the moment of the Divine Birth.

Greeted by the newborn Babe as His gentle friends, they the emissaries of that kingdom whose countless centuries of simple animal obedience honoured him more by their very being than we have ever done until He came and gave us our new beginning in Love, are first to carol His coming with the warmth of body and breath.

So come now, join with St. Francis and the brothers who journey through the ages to the Crib taking not the smooth paved road to town square or shining basilica but a mountain track into the deep forest where a cave lies prepared to stun the people back to innocence. Follow those torches lighting their bare-footed steps and sing with them those ancient songs, of Holly and Ivy, of Blood and Berry, of Candlelight and Crib as we travel to the Cave where time stands still and the white candle is kindled as eternity enters time and the Babe is born to die; where God bows low and the Father of the World to come, sleeps gently on His Mother’s breast…

Come to the crib…

Come to the cave where Mother Earth holds her most precious treasure and there bow low too…

You will have to…

I will have to…

For none can enter this place without bowing…

Without stooping…

To enter this first Holy Door of Mercy you must enter at a child’s height, and with a child’s heart… and then you will hear the whispered choirs of the ages sing their eternal “Venite Adoremus” and looking around you will find that no matter how old, or hardened, or weak you are you have the shining eyes of a child again…

This is the first gift to you of the One who is Mercy itself, the One who restores innocence and heals hearts long hardened… and then you will discover Christmas, the reality of Christmas again…

Not the Christmas of the shops and the TV’s and the black Fridays, and the rows, and the drinks, and the noise, and the pressure, and the stress, and the stuff, (so much stuff), and the buying, and the queuing, and… and… and…

Stop, breathe, be…

All that is another thing altogether… a distraction… the mere wrapping paper on the real Christmas Gift…

Having bowed low you will come to stillness there sitting upon the rough straw of the crib, the perfect stillness of a Mother and Child, and stilled yourself you will know the new beginning that comes with the Child.

You will discover again the true Christmas that always sits in your heart and there opens a stable to One who is greater than all.

One who is Compassion.

One who is mercy.

One who IS Love…

Our God has bowed low…

He bows so low that wherever we are, He is…

Even in the mess, even despite our sins…

He entered the world in a dung filled stable…

How could He ever draw back from you, draw back from me…

He bows so low that He seeks to enter the stable of our hearts now and in every moment and once born there to invite us to begin again in love

He bows so low that, yes, we can sometimes forget Him… for sometimes what is nearest to us we do not see unless we open the eyes of our heart again with a child’s simplicity; until we come to the crib, yearly, daily, even in every moment entering the Holy Door of Mercy by serving each other in compassion and love, by simply bowing low.

So bow low this Christmas and be met by the God who bows low.

Enter the cave.

Come to the crib.

Cross the Holy Door of Mercy.

Become Love.