Reflecting on a Preferred Image of Venerable Matt Talbot

Perhaps this article will stimulate further reflection on a preferred image of Venerable Matt Talbot.

“Why Don’t You Ever See Saints Smile in Religious Art?”

True joy doesn't always wear a happy face

 

by Elizabeth Pardi

June 15, 2016

http://aleteia.org/2016/06/15/why-dont-you-ever-see-saints-smile-in-religious-art/?utm_campaign=NL_en&utm_source=daily_newsletter&utm_medium=mail&utm_content=NL_en-Jun%2015,%202016%2006:00%20am

For several wandering years of my life, my ringtone was Billy Joel’s Only the Good Die Young. I’ll never forget the look on my fervent Catholic mother’s face one day, when a call came in. “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints” trampled the peaceful quiet, mocking the holy images adorning the walls of our house. I quickly silenced the phone and scoffed at the humble sadness that spread across my mother’s gentle countenance.

At the time, those lyrics were an adequate reflection of what kept me from practicing the faith. I lived my life under the impression that people who strive for sainthood are met with only pain and suffering while those who are more lax about the habitual presence of sin in their lives are able to truly enjoy themselves. Needless to say, I preferred the company of the latter.

This notion was further ingrained in my mind on the rare occasion that I did attend church and was surrounded by statues of saints bearing expressions that reminded me of the “before” picture in a Prozac ad. They appeared tired, hopeless, and somber at best. The faithful, I believed, were downright depressed, while I was in search of happiness.

Thankfully, the Holy Spirit eventually swooped in to crack open my misguided mind and reveal God’s deep yearning for my authentic joy even and perhaps especially now in this world. I drew hope from the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila in which she pleaded, “From somber, serious, sullen saints, save us, O Lord.”

Similarly, Pope Francis shed light on the joyful nature of Christian living with his insistence that, “No one has ever heard of a sad saint or a saint with a funeral face. Unheard of! It would be a contradiction.”

Once I truly came to believe that, as St. Augustine put it, “God is the happiest of beings who made us to share in his own happiness,” my curiosity about the dejected expressions on the faces of religious images was piqued. Why were artists portraying these men and women of God in such a downcast light? Shouldn’t representations of saints illustrate the joyfulness of Christ these holy individuals held in their hearts and graced the world with?

My answer came when I spent some time studying a painting of the Holy Family in the cry room at our church. In it, Jesus, at about five years old, is affectionately reclined against St. Joseph’s chest, both of them wearing warm, content smiles as Mary, with a playful grin of her own, tickles her son’s bare feet. Now that’s the joy most religious artwork should portray, I thought to myself. Then it hit me what most religious artwork depicts saints in the midst of: prayer.

While this particular image captured the glee of a happy family during a playful encounter, the more common action being carried out by the subjects of religious artwork is the uniting of their minds and hearts to God. Such a union, as we know, generally surpasses anything that evokes physical expressions of emotion, such as a laugh or smile.

Of course prayer can still be, and often is, a joy-filled experience, as graces and pure, unconditional love are poured upon us. Nevertheless, it is internal and deep, transcending the physiological reactions of the body that communicate happiness.

One particularly insightful priest I know described the typical facial expressions within religious artwork as “conveying stoic seriousness” in order to indicate inner peace as opposed to exterior passions.

A similar explanation is contained in an article explaining the solemn expressions of saints in religious icons: “True joy is something that comes from God and is therefore eternal. Fleeting pleasures are, by definition, temporary and do not bring true happiness. The smile is a reflection of fleeting happiness, because it too is temporary.”

This is by no means an indication that smiling is insignificant. In fact, Mother Teresa was a major advocate of the power of a smile, saying that such a gesture is the beginning of love. We are, after all, bodily creatures, endowed with the ability to express ourselves through facial and other such physical signals.

However, I’ve come to realize that we are challenged to look beyond facial expressions when we witness renditions of saints and religious figures who are not outwardly basking in boundless joy. We are invited to ponder the deepest levels of intellect and emotion to which these men and women opened themselves, the result of which ultimately generates a peace that surpasses a simple smile.

They’re not sad. They’re not hopeless. They’re lost – lost in the inexplicable, immortal love of their maker.

Memorial to Matt Talbot in the Dublin Pro-Cathedral

 Matthew Talbot, son of Charles and Elizabeth Talbot, was baptised in the Pro-Cathedral on 5 May, 1856.

In 2006 Timothy Schmalz, a Canadian sculptor, donated this memorial to the Pro-Cathedral on the 150th anniversary of Matt’s birth and baptism. 

According to the sculptor, “this bronze sculpture incorporates the traditional Irish symbol of a Celtic cross as the framework for the overall design. The sculpture clearly shows that Matt is chained to Mary and the Cross itself. These chains are broken at the lower part of the piece where the addictions are represented.” (http://www.sculpturebytps.com/large-bronze-statues-and-sculptures/religious-statues/statues-of-saints-and-luminaries/large-religious-statues-matt-talbot-monument/.) This 10 ft. sculpture can also be viewed in greater detail at

http://venerablematttalbotresourcecenter.blogspot.com/2011/08/sculpturer-timothy-schmalz-of-ontario.html.


The source of these two photographs posted 16 Jan 2016 is at http://www.christianforums.com/threads/one-of-my-heroes-matt-talbot.7928121/.

 

 

 

 

 

Image and Video about Venerable Matt Talbot

 

This image of Matt Talbot appears at the beginning of a video posted at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sp8yZ35QOB0 on 10 Sept 2015.
 

The video features two stories. The first story is about how Matt Talbot Group 8 Retreats came into being. At 9:32 minutes into this 24 minute video, a presentation about Matt Talbot begins.

Finished Venerable Matt Talbot Painting (2016) by Terry Nelson

On 19 May 2016 Terry Nelson posted his latest portrait of Venerable Matt Talbot at http://abbey-roads.blogspot.com/2016/05/my-latest-matt-talbot-painting.html.

In describing this painting he stated, “I finished the Talbot painting - almost...”

On 7 June 2016, the 91st anniversary of the death of Venerable Matt Talbot, Terry posted the “finished work..” at http://abbey-roads.blogspot.com/2016/06/anniversary-of-death-of-venerable-matt.html The adjustments he made are posted below:

“This is the finished painting.  I made a few adjustments from the first published image.  The composition remains spare and uncluttered - a few religious mementos and scraps of paper, upon which it is said Matt would make spiritual notes - a small statue of Our Lady of Lourdes and holy cards of Therese and Catherine of Siena comprise the 'still life' of minutia on the mantel. Above these, a very small image of OL of Perpetual Help hanging by a string. Matt stands in front of the tall, narrow tenement mantel, upon which these poor possessions are displayed. Interrupted in his devotion, clutching a crucifix, he looks out at the viewer.  In this my third painting of Matt, I imagined him in the last year of his life. Those closest to him described him as an 'undersized, wiry man,' though strong and able-bodied, he worked as a laborer all his adult life. He died at the age of 69.”

Note: It is worthwhile to check both of Terry’s links for viewer reactions to the almost finished and finished painting.

Miracles for Canonization and the Example of Venerable Matt Talbot*

Why Miracles Should Remain a Requirement for Canonization  

COMMENTARY: Canonization and beatification aren't equivalent to induction into a hall of fame. The Church cannot risk raising up someone for veneration without definitive proof.

by Brian O’Neel

June 7, 2016
http://www.ncregister.com/daily-news/why-miracles-should-remain-a-requirement-for-canonization


Recently, I got into a vigorous debate with a good friend who is also a good Catholic.

He longs for the eventual canonization of the Irish alcoholic Venerable Matt Talbot (d. 1925). He says the Holy Father should just go ahead and declare him a saint, although Talbot’s intercession hasn’t produced a miracle.

His argument is that, in the Year of Mercy, Pope Francis should show mercy to the ever-growing legion of those addicted by drugs or alcohol by canonizing the former drunk from Dublin. Doing this, he argues, would show addicts the Church understands that their affliction isn’t a weakness, but a true sickness, and she offers them both the temporal and spiritual compassion they need to beat their disease.

As a semi-professional hagiographer who has studied Talbot’s life, I agree he certainly deserves the title of “Venerable,” meaning he led “a life of heroic virtue.” That doesn’t ipso facto make him a saint, however.

I wanted to make the same argument to a nun with whom I recently spoke. Her order’s foundress is up for beatification. When I asked this sister why this “Servant of God” deserves our consideration as an example for us to emulate, she replied in an incredulous, almost-offended voice: “Why, she founded an order.”

No doubt, this spiritual mother was a very good and holy woman. Her body was even found incorrupt. But that doesn’t necessarily make her a saint.

To know whether someone is in heaven, we need a miracle. All any of us — you, I, the consultors for the Vatican’s saint-making office (the Congregation for the Causes of Saints) —  can see is the surface of a person. We don’t know what lies inside the hidden corners of a soul. Only God does.

To wit, one book on hell tells the story of a male religious who everyone agreed lived a remarkably holy life. Thus, when he died, his brothers naturally assumed he went to heaven. So imagine their surprise when his apparition appeared a short time later, telling them he was in everlasting fire. The reason? He died with an unconfessed mortal sin.

The story may be a myth. More believable is the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Paragraph 1033 says: “To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God’s merciful love means remaining separated from him forever by our own free choice.”

How many of us have committed a mortal sin and hesitated to confess it out of fear or shame?

But even if a Servant of God or Venerable died in a state of grace, is it not at all likely they are in purgatory and not before the Beatific Vision? The Fatima visionary Francisco Marto — Blessed Francisco, mind you — was counseled he would need to say many Rosaries to avoid purgatory. Our Lady told the children a deceased girl they knew would “be in purgatory until the end of the world.”

One might reasonably ask what anyone so young could have done to merit such a long time in purgatory. But if we know our Catholic faith, then we understand we spend time in purgatory not as a punishment, per se, but to cleanse the temporal effects of sin from our souls.

With someone such as Matt Talbot, is it not conceivable that he is in purgatory? After all, he started excessively drinking at age 12. He didn’t quit drinking until age 28. Let’s be conservative and say he was drunk every day for 15 years. (We know he usually was inebriated, because the day he gave up drinking his mother was surprised to see him sober.) That is 5,475 days of drunkenness. At least once, he stole to get money for drinking. Who knows what other damaging acts to the soul he committed. That is a huge number of mortal sins. (Note: As St. Thomas points out in the Summa, Q. 150, intoxication isn’t always a capital sin.) Yes, our God is perfectly merciful — but he is also perfectly just.

And for reasons we’ll discuss, we need a definitive sign from God before we go declaring his justice satisfied.

It wasn’t always so. For several hundred years, local bishops or communities were allowed to proclaim someone a saint or blessed. This led to “Blessed Charlemagne,” who had eight to 10 known wives and concubines, and of his 20 children, nine were illegitimate. He also had 4,500 Saxons massacred in a single day and said any survivors who refused to receive baptism would likewise die. The Swedes once revered as a saint a man who was killed while drunk.

This is why the Holy See began reserving the canonization process to itself, permanently doing so in 1170 under Alexander III. Since then, popes such as Sixtus V, Urban VIII, Benedict XIV and St. John Paul II have revised the saint-making procedure. But always, miracles have been required.

So why require a miracle as part of the process? As professor Heidi Schlumpf wrote on the process: “Miracles confirm ‘the Church’s judgment regarding the virtue or martyrdom of the Servant of God.’”

God can make this confirmation at any moment. Considering the average length of a beatification (118 years from death to ceremony) and canonization process (an average 49 additional years), Mother Teresa of Calcutta and John Paul II were approved for sainthood amazingly quick.

If God wanted to demonstrate that Talbot or, say, Jesuit Father Walter Ciszek, a Servant of God, was in heaven at this moment, what would stop him from doing so?

Ultimately, the desire to scrap the miracle “litmus test” is an impatience to see our “saint” raised to the altars. There may be purely altruistic reasons behind this, but the spirit is still the same. But if we get rid of the miracle requirement, then why have a process at all?

Why, indeed. Canonization and beatification aren’t equivalent to induction into a hall of fame. As Jesuit Father J.R. MacMahon wrote: “When the Pope utters the solemn words defining the new saint, he is relying, not merely on human industry or prudence or wisdom, but on the special assistance of the Holy Ghost, and [pay attention here] his definition is infallible.”

Therefore, the Church cannot risk raising up someone for such veneration without definitive proof. The faithful aren’t even supposed to directly pray to a Servant of God or Venerable for their intercession. Instead, we’re supposed to ask God for those prayers. To see that, all one has to do is look at the back of a prayer card for any person who hasn’t yet received beatification. Then compare it to one from a person who has been beatified or canonized. Notice the difference?

Let us be patient. Let us wait on God to do the work that will show forth his glory as he wills it, and not as we do. And let us pray for the souls of those we consider saints but who may actually be in purgatory.

*NOTE:  We created a different title for posting purposes.

Since this article's content is likely to elicited varied reactions, we recommend reading the comment section at its publication link. The content may also stimulate additional articles as well as content for inclusion in presentations and homilies.

 

91th Anniversary of Venerable Matt Talbot's Death

                                                    
                                          7 June 1925



Lord, as you did with Venerable Matt Talbot, help us to overcome all earthly attachments and self-destructive addictions.  Make us a new creation. Amen


"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” 
~ 2 Corinthians 5:17

The Life of the Venerable Matt Talbot

Although this article was published on the author's website (www.mostmercifuljesus.com/) in January 2016 simply to feature Matt Talbot, Will Ross noted in an exchange of emails with us that this article was actually written by him several years ago using older references but somewhat updated last year using “snippets” of more current online resources. In addition, Will noted that it was not written or intended to be a scholarly article with references.

Although we have received his permission to repost the entire lengthy article, we are just reposting part of its introduction. 

"The Life of the Servant of God, The Venerable Matt Talbot" 
by Will Ross 
January 21, 2016
http://www.mostmercifuljesus.com/the-life-of-the-venerable-matt-talbot/ 

Throughout human history, God has given His Church – and through the Church, us – Saints. These men and women are our shining examples, our beacons of light and hope in a world of darkness and sin. We look to them, are inspired by them, learn from them and receive their prayerful assistance. The Saints are our brothers and sisters who are already in Heaven. In life they were not perfect by any means; they struggled with the same temptations as do all of us, and had to rely greatly on the grace of God in overcoming their own personal difficulties and human failings. Some reached the heights of sanctity very quickly in life, while others had a longer and more arduous path in attaining holiness. Interestingly, God always seems to provide just the right type of Saint to inspire the Faithful of a particular day and age.

Irish Spirituality is most often associated with the Celtic Monks, who lived lives of great holiness as a result of personal struggle and austerity; their mortification detached them from the love of self in all its forms, and allowed them to become truly focused on God.

And such is the case with Matthew Talbot. But unlike those earlier monks, Matt lived much more recently – dying only in 1925 – and he was not a member of any religious order. Rather, he lived a very simple and humble life in the midst of a bustling city, and in that life he discovered the Presence and the power of the Living God...

A Reflection on the Chains that Bind You

Using the example of Venerable Matt Talbot, the author, an attorney in private practice in New York City, asks you to reflect on the chains that bind you.

 

Finding Freedom Within Our Chains

Tom Zampino

February 15, 2016

http://www.catholicconspiracy.com/tomzampino/2016/02/15/finding-freedom-within-our-chains/

To what are you addicted? What is it that holds you down, as if a prisoner?

Which are the chains that bind you?

You don’t have to say it out loud. No one need hear you.

You can even deny that anyone ever posed the question.

I won’t say anything.

But come clean. Right now.

After all, it’s just you, alone, reading some words on a screen, right?

Is it pornography? Alcohol? Gambling? Anger? Money? Junk television? Your knee-jerk reaction to those little things which constantly tick you off – every . . . single . . . time?

Look, we all struggle with some form of addiction.

For some, it’s a defining characteristic. 

For others, our addictions hold us back from being – becoming, really – our better selves.

We are all, to one degree or another, chained.

Matt Talbot (1856-1925) was someone who knew a lot about the chains of addiction. He had become a “hopeless alcoholic” by age thirteen. Savior.org gives us a quick background:

Matthew Talbot was born on May 2, 1856, the second of 12 siblings, in Dublin, Ireland. He had three sisters and nine brothers, three of whom died young. His father Charles was a dockworker and his mother, Elizabeth, was a housewife. When Matthew was about 12 years old, he started to drink alcohol. His father was a known alcoholic as well as all his brothers. The eldest brother, John, was the exception. Charles tried to dissuade Matthew with severe punishments but without success.

An unskilled laborer, Talbot struggled, until age 28, not only with drink, but with a fierce temper and criminal behavior that fed into his addiction.

Then things changed.

Suddenly.

And for the next forty years, Talbot was a new man.

Eventually, Talbot became a Third Order Franciscan, spent many hours in prayer, and lived the life of an ascetic. He’s even on the road to sainthood.

But here’s my point.

Talbot was never actually freed from his chains.

No.

But he did, literally, exchange them.

You see, it was revealed upon his death that for some period of time after his conversion, Talbot had worn physical chains around his body. Why?

The chains . . . were not some extreme penitential regime but a symbol of his devotion to Mary, Mother of God that he wished to give himself to her totally as a slave. This life was his prayer to God and his defense against a reversion to alcoholism.

Freedom from addiction.

Freedom through – freedom because of – his chains.

Talbot had exchanged the chains of addiction for new ones: chains that he chose; chains which led him directly to freedom.

So permit me to ask once again:

Which are the chains that bind you?

Remembering Venerable Matt Talbot Today on Trinity Sunday

It was on Trinity Sunday, 7 June 1925, that Matt Talbot collapsed and died of heart failure while walking in Granby Lane to a Mass in St.Savior's Church on Dominic Street, Dublin.
 
In his article posted earlier today at http://scottdodge.blogspot.com/2016/05/remembering-venerable-matt-talbot-on.html,

Deacon Scott reminds us to join him “in praying that Papa Begoglio, who will visit Ireland in 2018, in his paternal tenderness, will make Matt Blessed. His intercession works miracles all the time."

Terry Nelson's latest Venerable Matt Talbot painting

Terry describes his third (but not his last) attempt to "capture" Matt Talbot on canvas. Thank you, Terry.

Source: http://abbey-roads.blogspot.com/2016/05/my-latest-matt-talbot-painting.html

 

Matt Talbot

T. Nelson 2016

I finished the Talbot painting - almost, I have some more glazing to do, shading - but the figure and composition is pretty much finished.  I hope to frame it importantly.  I did a quick 'fuzzy' shot of the canvas, as shown above.  It came off a bit too light.

I read that he was an 'undersized, wiry man,' and a laborer.  I read he wore his working clothes everywhere - so I imagined a jacket and collarless shirt, a bit worn - just as I always depict him.  The difference this time is that I have him balding more than in my other paintings.  There are a couple of early paintings, one by a religious sister, depicting him bald, and I wanted to do so as well.  My composition is spare - a few religious mementos and scraps of paper, upon which it is said Matt would make spiritual notes - a small statue of Our Lady of Lourdes and holy cards of Therese and Catherine of Siena comprise the 'still life' on the mantel.  Above these, a very small image of OL of Perpetual Help hanging by a string.  Matt stands in front of the tall, narrow tenement mantel, upon which these poor possessions are displayed.  Interrupted in his devotion, clutching a crucifix, he looks out at the viewer.

As I painted, I had in mind a young Irish man I had met at Lourdes years ago.  He wasn't very tall either - but a handsome man, and something about him reminded me of how Matt might have been at the time of his conversion.  I tried to imagine him in his 60's now, and made a sort of composite of images of Matt Talbot and my recollection of the man from Lourdes.  The face developed rather quickly.  The paint is quite thin - not as layered as I normally would paint - and suddenly this face appeared, which startled me.  I don't know how I did it, where it came from, or how it came together so swiftly.

Anyway.  Quirky as it is, this is my third attempt to paint venerable Matt Talbot.

A Saint in Waiting: Venerable Matt Talbot

by Fr Richard Ebejer  

Pioneer, April 2015, page 21

http://www.pioneerassociation.ie/images/stories/pioneercovers/magazine/april2015.pdf

“We are commemorating the ninetieth anniversary of the death of Venerable Matt Talbot this year. Coming from a poor and deprived background, Matt found himself sucked into the culture of addiction and embraced alcohol as a means of escape from the misery and poverty of daily life. Today, we live in an age of addictions more sophisticated than ever before; addiction to alcohol and a wide range of drugs. All these have the ability to destroy our lives and often end up eating away at our very souls as well.

Matt Talbot came to a realisation of how his life was being wasted, and from the time of his conversion as a young man of twenty-eight years of age, he spent the rest of his life living to a heroic extent the Christian virtues through prayer, spiritual reading, work and acts of charity.

We believe that Matt has a strong message for today, and can be a role model to the young people of our time. His life is a testimony of how people can, by God’s grace and their own self-acceptance, say 'no' to that which leads to addiction or addictive behaviour. Matt sets before us a radical example, which demonstrates how young people,in particular, can do

extraordinary things.

The message of Matt Talbot is a call to conversion, a call to change our lives, letting go of our particular attachments while giving God a place in our lives. In promoting his devotion, one is extending this message of conversion to all who come in touch with his life. We are encouraging you to keep his memory alive in your own parish and within the Pioneer Association by promoting his devotion.”

‘For Matt, the Pioneer Association was a source of support and encouragement, but just as important it gave him the opportunity to support others suffering from alcoholism through his daily Pioneer Offering of prayer on their behalf. Matt understood the human condition with all it's weakness and frailties. He once said to his sister Susan, "never think harshly of a person because of the drink. it's easier to get out of hell than to give up the drink. For me it was only possible with the help of God and our blessed Mother".’

Prayer for the Canonisation of Matt Talbot

Lord, in your servant, Matt Talbot you
have given us a wonderful example of
triumph over addiction, of devotion to
duty, and of lifelong reverence for the
Holy Sacrament. May his life of
prayer and penance give us courage
to take up our crosses and follow in the
footsteps of Our Lord and Saviour,
Jesus Christ.

Father, if it be your will that your
beloved servant should be glorified by
your Church, make known by your
heavenly favours the power he enjoys in
your sight. We ask this through the
same Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen.

 

Note: Fr. Ebejer is the administrator at Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Dublin, location of the Matt Talbot Shrine.

Portrait of a Young Matt Talbot

Grzegorz Jakielski posted this portrait (and text) of Matt Talbot on his English Facebook page earlier today at 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Matt-Talbot/304690079653019

“Some time ago I found the information on the web that in the Sanctuary of the Virgin Mary in the Różanystok has a painting of Venerable Matt Talbot. I went more than 250 km to find out about whether the information is true. The information proved to be true.

Unfortunately, the pastor had no information who is the artist of the painting or when it was hung in the Sanctuary.”

Note: Grzegorz’s Polish sites devoted to Venerable Matt Talbot are https://pl-pl.facebook.com/SlugaBozyMateuszTalbot
and http://www.mateusztalbot.pl 
Additional photographs of this painting of Matt Talbot in Różanystok can be viewed at https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.888360084619346.1073741837.304690079653019&type=3 and http://www.mateusztalbot.pl/strony/rozanystok.html

A Walking Tour

One of the Friends of the National Gallery of Ireland

events for May 2016 is The Monto Walking Tour,

Sunday 8 May (http://www.nationalgallery.ie/supportus/Friends/~/media/Files/Friends/Friends_Events_Guide_Mar-May_2016.pdf)

Join local historian,Terry Fagan, North Inner City Folklore Project, on a ramble around Dublin’s Monton: an area stretching from Foley Street to Sean McDermott Street which was famous as a red light district. We will hear stories of locals who lived in the tenements, notorious madams, the man with the hidden secret dubbed ‘Dublin’s Oskar Schindler,’ the Venerable Matt Talbot whose shrine we shall visit and events linked to the 1913 Lockout and the struggle for Irish Independence as we walk these streets which are steeped in history.

Meet at Connolly Station at 11 am. Concludes at approximately 12:30 pm.

  

160th Anniversary of Venerable Matt Talbot’s Birth

Matthew was born on 2 May 1856 at 13 Aldborough Court, Dublin, Ireland, the second eldest of twelve children of Charles and Elizabeth Talbot. He was baptized three days later at St. Mary's Pro-Cathedral.

300th Anniversary of the Death of St. Louis Marie de Montfort

Today is the 300th anniversary of the death of St. Louis Marie de Montfort (31 Jan 1673 - 28 Apr 1716), a saint whose writings were especially influential in the life of Matt Talbot. Reading his classic, True Devotion to Mary, is particularly helpful in our understanding of some of Matt’s spiritual practices.

Note: three informative references among many:

http://www.ncregister.com/blog/joseph-pronechen/on-his-300th-anniveresary-21-things-louis-de-montfort-said-about-the-r1

http://catholicexchange.com/rosary-advice-from-st-louis-de-montfort?mc_cid=8e5481149a&mc_eid=318db96c1c

http://www.montfort.org.uk/index.php

Availability of Venerable Matt Talbot Relic Cards

The Calix Society now offers Venerable Matt Talbot Relic cards on their online store at http://www.calixsociety.org/store.

 

The size of a business card when folded, these cards include a photo of the Matt Talbot statue in Dublin, a 3rd Class relic cloth, a prayer for Matt’s intercession and his canonization prayer.

 

The card can be viewed at http://www.philly-calix.com/MT_Relic_Card.pdf

Prayers for Help

Earlier this year, author and compiler Marie Noel published Prayers for Help, a paperback consisting of more than 330 prayers applicable to a wide variety of life situations.

In Chapter 22: “To Abstain from Alcohol,” she offers prayers related to addiction and Venerable Matt Talbot, which can be read at http://www.amazon.com/Prayers-Help-Marie-Noel/dp/194118412X/ref=sr_1_88?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460335859&sr=188&keywords=matt+talbot#reader_194118412X

A Special Likeness of Venerable Matt Talbot

A few days ago we posted an announcement about the 2 April 2016 MATT TALBOT JUBILEE YEAR PILGRIMAGE at Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Dublin (http://venerablematttalbotresourcecenter.blogspot.com/2016/03/matt-talbot-jubileeyearpilgrimage.html). 

 

Details and photographs from this special day, which includes this “strikingly beautiful likeness of Matt and a crucifix from his home,” is available at http://asmorningrising.blogspot.com/2016/04/venerable-matt-talbot.html?spref=bl.

 

 

 

 

MATT TALBOT JUBILEE YEAR PILGRIMAGE

The Dublin Mystic: Matt Talbot

by K. V. Turley*

March 17, 2016

http://catholicexchange.com/the-dublin-mystic-matt-talbot

On 8 June 1925, the following news item appeared in the Irish Independent:

Unknown Man’s Death

An elderly man collapsed in Granby Lane [Dublin] yesterday, and being taken to Jervis Street Hospital he was found to be dead. He was wearing a tweed suit, but there was nothing to indicate who he was. 

What was not reported was the unusual discovery when he was taken to hospital. He was wearing heavy chains: some wrapped around his legs, others on his body. Mortuary staff puzzled over not just who he was but, also, the meaning of the chains.

The newspaper report had appeared on a Monday morning. Later that night, police ushered a woman into the mortuary. She identified the body as that of her brother: Matt Talbot. A nursing nun present asked about the chains. The dead man’s sister replied simply that it was something he wore, and with that, they were placed in the coffin and the lid closed.

That was not the whole story though; the chains were part of the mystery of the man who had died. They were as symbolic as they were real. The man’s life having been a ‘crossing over’ from the servitude of vice to the freedom of those in chains for Christ.

Talbot was born in 1856 into a large Catholic family living in semi-poverty in Dublin. His schooling was slight. He was barely literate when he went to work full-time aged just 11 years old. For the rest of his life his occupation was as an unskilled labourer. He was exposed to harsh working conditions, at times harsh bosses and to a social environment that necessitated some form of release from this – this was found by many in the city’s public houses. Matt was no different, so much so that by his teenage years he was hopelessly addicted to alcohol.

Matt had the reputation of being a hard worker. Increasingly, however, that work ethic was simply the means to finance his ‘hard drinking’. As it grips, vice of whatever sort is hard to counter, especially when the will to oppose it diminishes, so it was with Matt Talbot – what had began as an escape soon became a prison of moral and spiritual degradation. And, the more time he spent there the more Matt needed alcohol to shield him from that reality. Those around watched and, shaking their heads, concluded that Talbot was a lost cause. But they were to be proved wrong and in a most unexpected way.

Fittingly, the second phase of Matt’s life began outside a pub. That day he had no money, and, therefore, hoped that some of his drinking fraternity would stand him a drink. As each acquaintance filed past, none offered to buy him anything. On that summer’s day in 1884, something occurred that was to change Matt Talbot forever. Humiliated by the indifference of his erstwhile friends, he turned and walked straight home. His mother was surprised to see him – at that early hour, and sober. He proceeded to clean himself up before announcing he was going to a nearby seminary to ‘take the pledge’ – a promise to abstain from all alcohol. His mother was mystified by this and fearful. She knew that pledges made to God were not something to be taken lightly. She counselled him against doing any such thing unless he was intent on persevering. He listened, and then left.

Matt did take the pledge that day. He also went to Confession. It was as dramatic as it was decisive. It had all the hallmarks of a genuine conversion, one as sincere as it was needed. Nevertheless, a conversion takes but a moment, the work of sanctity a lifetime: after years of drunkenness, still arraigned against Matt was a weakness of character and a world that revolved around alcohol. It looked as if the odds were stacked against him, but this was not solely a human undertaking. Into this ‘land of captivity’, from ‘across the Jordan’, there came invisible armies to fight alongside this now embattled soul, one embarked upon a war of liberation. This was not a new spiritual combat, but rather one that had commenced many years previously when this poor man’s parents brought a child to a parish church and asked for baptism in the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

After his conversion, not much changed, outwardly at least: Matt continued with his employment in the docks. He continued to work hard, now respected more than ever by his fellow workers and employers who noticed that he had started to give his wages to his mother rather than straight to a publican. Nevertheless, work alone cannot satisfy the human heart. Previously, when not working his life had been many hours spent in public houses, but, now, he had turned his back on that. He had been ‘born anew’, but like a newborn was vulnerable to the world he inhabited. With no material substance to cling to he turned inward, to the Spirit that dwells within each baptised soul. And, as he did so, he commenced upon an adventure that few could have imagined possible.

From then on, along the Dublin streets, there moved a mystic soul. Each morning at 5AM, dressed in workman’s clothes a man knelt outside a city church waiting for the doors to open and the first Mass to begin. After the Holy Sacrifice, he would pray for a time before going to one of the timber yards near the docks. There, he laboured all day; but there were periods in the day when lulls and breaks would occur. Whilst his fellow workers gossiped or smoked, Matt chose to be alone, knelt in prayer in a hidden part of a workshop until the call came to return to his labours.

***

Each evening, when work was finished, Matt walked home with his fellow workers. They knew their companion’s free time was spent praying in some city church before the Blessed Sacrament. Often he asked them to join him in making a visit to Our Blessed Lord. Some did. After a short while, however, they would leave with Matt still knelt in the gathering twilight. Eventually, when at night he did return home it was to yet more prayer – and mortification. His bed was a plank of wood, a piece of that same material his pillow. Although respected by those he lived amongst and worked alongside, and not unfriendly, he had few visitors. Those who did encounter him felt he was not quite of this world; they were right; he was travelling ever inwards on a mystical journey to a freedom he could never have dreamt of when trapped in an alcoholic stupor.

When his belongings were found after his death, one of the surprises was the number of books he owned. Inquires soon revealed that he had slowly, but determinedly, taught himself to read and, as he did so, effectively began a course of study that included the spiritual classics, the lives of Saints, doctrinal books, and works of mystical and ascetical theology. When asked how he, a poor workman, could read the works of St. Augustine, Newman et al, his reply was as straightforward as it was telling. He said he asked the Holy Spirit to enlighten him. And so, he grew in an intellectual understanding of his faith, which in turn deepened the prayer and penance he undertook. Here was a 20^th Century heir to the spiritual traditions of the ancient Irish monks, albeit one now living not on an island monastery but in the slums of Dublin, but, like those earlier contemplatives his life was work, study and prayer with eyes turned ever inward to the Holy Trinity.

Matt never married; held no position of note, was unknown outside his own small circle of family and friends – only one blurred photograph has survived him- and, yet, this was a rare man: one who had taken the Gospel at its word and lived it.

His lifetime ran alongside the then momentous events in Irish history. A time of cultural renaissance and nationalist fervour, of a Great Strike in 1913 and open revolution in 1916, of the Great War and a War for Independence, throughout it all his life remained largely unchanged. Matt knew all too well that kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but that he had set his face to serve a different Kingdom, one shown him in 1884 when he confessed all and cast himself into the hands of the Living God.

By 1925, Matt was 69. He had been in poor health for some time. Out of necessity he tried to continue working as there was only limited relief for the poor or elderly, but his strength was failing. Nevertheless, he persisted in his prayer and penance. On 7 June 1925, whilst struggling down a Dublin alleyway on his way to Mass, he fell. A small crowd gathered around him. A Dominican priest was called from the nearby church, the one where Matt had been hurrying. The priest came and knelt over the fallen man. Realising what had happened, he lifted his hand in a blessing for the final journey. Little did he realise the dead stranger lying in front of him had already been on that ‘journey’ for over 40 years.

Having lived in the intimacy of the Triune God, it was apt Matt died on Trinity Sunday. Having lived off the Eucharist daily for more than 40 years, it was equally fitting he was buried on the feast of Corpus Christi.

Decades later, a visiting Italian priest went privately to pray at the grave of the Dublin worker he had heard so much about. In 1975, and after the due process had been completed, that same cleric, now Pope Paul VI, bestowed a new title upon that Irish workman: Venerable Matt Talbot.

There is a large trunk in the safe keeping of the Archdiocese of Dublin. It contains the books owned by Venerable Matt Talbot. A veritable treasury of spiritual theology, one of the books contained therein is True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort. In its pages it reflects on being a slave to this world or to the Blessed Virgin. For those that choose the latter path it recommends, after due recourse to a spiritual director and the suitable enrolment, that a chain be worn to symbolise that that soul no longer belongs to the powers of darkness but is now a child of the light. On that June day in 1925, when Matt Talbot fell upon a Dublin street, it was dressed as a slave to Mary and as an ambassador of Christ.

*K. V. Turley is a London based freelance writer and filmmaker with a degree in theology.