The Venerable Matt Talbot Resource Center exists to compile writings about the life, times, conversion, and recovery from alcoholism of Matt Talbot (1856-1925) of Dublin, Ireland. Disclaimer: The placing of information on this site from external linked sources does not necessarily imply agreement with that information. This center is independent of any other center, group, organization, website, or Facebook page. Comments are welcome at: ven.matt.talbot.resource.center@gmail.com
Difficult circumstances seem to make the Eucharist all the more
powerful.
"...Earlier this year, I interviewed some
homeless and formerly homeless people for America magazine. Two of the Catholic
interviewees described the way their experience with homelessness drew them to
the Eucharist. Greg C said that when he was living in his car, he sought out
churches “that had 24-hour Adoration, so it wouldn’t be suspicious that I had my
car there… Going to Adoration felt like coming home, even though it’s not where
I slept.”
Eleanor (a pseudonym) noted that she became
Catholic in part because: “Having been so totally and utterly failed,
misunderstood and maligned by 99 per cent of the people I loved – Evangelical
Protestants and Catholics alike – I really just wanted Jesus. The Eucharist was
suddenly that much more necessary and beautiful.”
The Third Sunday of Advent’s readings
emphasise that God comes to the powerless and the suffering. He will overturn
the hierarchies of our world: “He has filled the hungry with good things, and
the rich he has sent away empty” (Luke 1:53).
I have only anecdotal evidence to suggest
that people on the margins of society often have an especial devotion to the
Eucharist. I do think there’s something about the experience of marginalisation
or powerlessness itself – an experience most of us have had in different
contexts – which makes the poignancy and majesty of Christ’s gift of Himself in
the Eucharist shine forth more brightly. Eleanor suggests that the Eucharist
helps us to know and love Jesus even when many of His followers abandon or harm
us.
One other theme my interviewees raised was
the fear of how others would see them – alongside the terrible fear of becoming
totally invisible. One man, John William Brandkamp, summarised what many of my
interviewees said in different words: “I desperately want to be seen, and I
desperately do not want to be seen.” In this situation Eucharistic Adoration
allows you to turn your gaze towards Christ and know that He sees you without
judging you. You don’t have to worry about what He’s thinking about you. You
don’t have to worry that He’ll discreetly edge away from you if you look rough
or miserable, if you are a more butch woman or a more feminine man.
There is a peace in the Eucharist which is
for you, an intimacy even when you feel friendless. He knows you when you are
keeping secrets for fear of how others will react to you; knows you, with a
knowledge which is only loving.
The Eucharist shows God Himself in a
shockingly powerless form. Not only does God overthrow the mighty and exalt the
humble – He Himself becomes about as humble as it’s possible to be. His Body is
as broken as our heart feels. He places Himself literally in our hands,
entrusting Himself to us even though we know we are not trustworthy. It is His
might which makes this possible. It is the infinite power of the Lord which
makes it possible for Him to become, like us, so weak.
And it is only through His power that we can
do as Paul says: “In all circumstances give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Eucharist means “thanksgiving”, of course. In our hardest circumstances we are
given such a simple way to give thanks. There are times when words fail, when
prayers don’t come, when you have no idea how to live in gratitude for a life
which seems consumed by confusion, injustice or suffering. In those times the
silence of the Eucharist can be a great solace. Simply being present with Him is
enough.
There have been times when I couldn’t receive
Communion – sometimes for dumb reasons, like my schedule went all catawampus and
I didn’t fast; sometimes because I knew I carried grave sin I was unwilling even
to bring to Confession. It’s awful to feel helplessly shackled in
sin.
But I trust that when I went to Mass my
willingness simply to be in His presence, even if I couldn’t or wouldn’t receive
the deep intimacy He wanted to offer me, was a way of giving as much thanks as I
could.
In all circumstances our Thanksgiving awaits
us on the altar."
I am turning 65 this month and a lovely question has come to me:
“How do I want to finish this life?”
We all may have had some bad starts along the way but the
Christian Gospel says we can make a great finish.
While praying about this for a few months I met a friend along
the way. A lovely little saint named Venerable Matt Talbot (1856-1925). He was
an Irish man and a chronic alcoholic who found sobriety for 41 years through
devotion to the Eucharist, prayer, self-discipline and spiritual direction. He
lived the 12 step program before it was discovered. He is a saint for the addict
and the alcoholic, the down-and-outers and the rest of us who need a little hope
to keep on the path home.
He was a simple man who, through great efforts, taught himself
to read and write so he could read the Bible and the lives of the saints. He
would often be found kneeling in front of the church door waiting for the parish
to open for the early morning Mass. He found a deep relationship to Jesus
through Mary as he made the consecration of Saint Louis de Montfort.
He was going to Trinity Sunday Mass when he died and would have
been terribly embarrassed that others found out he was wearing a small chain to
remind himself he was a servant of the great King and Queen of
Heaven.
I love the story about how he spent seven years trying to find
the blind fiddle player from whom he stole a fiddle to pay for some pints of
beer. He couldn’t locate him so gave the amount of money that the fiddle cost to
a priest to pray for the man’s soul. He was a simple man who started badly but
finished a saint.
So here I am before God asking, “Lord, show me how to finish
this life.”
Matt’s simple spiritual life resonates with me and was taken
from the pattern of the Irish monks as summarized by Saint Columbanus: “Pray
daily, fast daily, work daily, study daily.” I confess that this is the best
description of the life I want to lead as I finish this life. I find in this
simple saint such beauty and a call to run with him to the end. I recall Saint
Paul’s words in Hebrews: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud
of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so
closely, and let us with perseverance run the race that is set before us,
looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” (Hebrews
12:1)
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 Savior, Jesus
Christ.
The message In this recent homily by Fr. Phil
Bloom, pastor at St. Mary of the Valley Catholic Church, Monroe, Washington, is
that "God allows the flesh to have power so that we will realize our weakness and come to him. The suffering involved in humility is labor pain" and uses the life of Venerable Matt Talbot as an
We are now in the second week of
our series on "Life in the Spirit."* Spirit is the aspect of our being that
enables us to have a relationship with God and with each other. The Spirit (with
a capital "s") refers to the Holy Spirit. As we shall see, even though you and I
have a capacity for God (capax Dei), we can realize that potential only in the
Holy Spirit.
We saw last week that St. Paul makes a distinction between
spirit and flesh. "You are not in the flesh," he says, "you are in the spirit."
The flesh refers not just to sensual pleasure, but the whole downward pull of
our human nature. For example, one of the ugliest sins of the flesh is envy.
Envy doesn't seek sensual pleasure. Envy wants to cut other people down. I will
address envy later in this series. For now, please fix in your mind that the
flesh is not about partying, but about pulling down other people and one's own
self.
Paul makes clear that God did not create us with this downward
pull. It resulted from our own free choices. God allows the power of the flesh
to continue because he respects our freedom, but also so we can learn humility.
Humility is the great virtue. An arrogant man stands apart from God - and from
others. A humble person acknowledges his need for God and others. To teach
humility God allows us to fall. St. Therese of Lisieux said: "We would like
never to fall. What an illusion! What does it matter, my Jesus, if I fall at
every moment? I come to recognize by it how weak I am and that is gain for me."
We fall, yes, but God does not want us to stay in the mud. He desires to
lift us up. As St. Paul writes today, God wants us to have "the glorious freedom
of the children of God." That glorious freedom begins with humility and depends
on constant humility - acknowledging my need for God and my need for you.
Humility has a price: suffering. I wish we could buy humility at Home
Depot or get it by just thinking about it, but it doesn't work that way.
Humility costs pain. St. Paul compares it to a woman in labor. A man once told
me about the birth of his first child. He and his wife had taken all the
childbirth classes and they felt ready. His wife is a brave woman who seldom
complains. But he said that he had no idea women suffer so much. But then what
joy when they held their newborn child!
So it is with us. We daily
experience the labor pain of a new creation - a new birth.
Jesus
describes that new birth with the example of a seed. If a seed could speak, it
might say, "Please, leave me alone. I am happy in my little shell." A seed can
live in its shell indefinitely. Archaeologists discovered a date palm seed when
they excavated Herod's Palace in Judea. The seed goes back to Jesus' time and it
theoretically could last until doomsday. A human can likewise stay wrapped up in
himself for his entire life - and into eternity. That's the "hell" Jesus warns
us against.
But you know what happened to that two-thousand-year-old
date palm seed? Scientists planted and watered it - and it germinated. God wants
to do something similar for you and me. He wants to rescue us from the isolation
and sterility of hell. When the seed is immersed in soil and water, it breaks
open, receives nourishment and as Jesus say, "produces fruit a hundred, sixty
and thirty fold."
The life of Venerable Matt Talbot shows how humility
leads to productivity. I spoke about Matt Talbot on Corpus Christi
Sunday. When was twelve he got a job helping a wine merchant. He started
"sampling the wares" and within a year became addicted. He lost that job, but
got another one at a whiskey store. He spent most or all of his wages in pubs.
Running up debts, he pawned his possessions including shirts and boots. One
evening in 1884 (when he in his early thirties) he was penniless and out of
credit. He waited outside a pub hoping his "friends" would invite him to a
drink. None did. Matt went home in disgust and announced to his mother that he
was "taking the pledge." He went to a priest to make a three month pledge, then
six months, which finally extended to forty years. The first days and weeks were
the most difficult. He found strength in Mass (daily if possible), prayer and a
program of aiding others. He got a job as a hod carrier and worked so diligently
that the foreman put him first in line to set the pace for others. With his
earnings, he repaid his debt and made restitution for things he had stolen, then
quietly began quietly helping the needy. The greatest help was to show them how
to recover from addiction - for example to alcohol or gambling. He helped
hundreds to find sobriety and a deep relationship with Jesus.
Venerable
Matt Talbot shows what God wants of us - to break out of our isolation, our
self-enclosure. That requires humility. It means recognizing our need for Him
and for each other - the Church, the Body of Christ. If I knew some easy path, I
would tell you - and I would take it myself. But humility involves pain. God
allows the flesh to have power so that we will realize our weakness and come to
him. The suffering involved in humility is labor pain. As St. Paul says, God
wants us to "be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious
freedom of the children of God." Amen.
