The Transformation of Venerable Matt Talbot

We sincerely appreciate this article written by K. V. Turley and published by the National Catholic Register. (We have changed the title above.)

The Mystery of Venerable Matt Talbot

Posted by K.V. Turley on Sunday Jun 7th, 2020

Matt Talbot walked the streets of Dublin as a mystic soul and an ambassador for Christ.

https://www.ncregister.com/blog/kturley/the-mystery-of-venerable-matt-talbot

On June 7, 1925, an elderly poorly dressed man collapsed in Granby Lane, Dublin.

Subsequently, he was taken to Jervis Street Hospital where he was found to be dead. Although his identity was as yet unknown, a curious discovery was made: He was wearing heavy chains, some wrapped around his legs, others around his body. Mortuary staff puzzled over not just who he was but also the meaning of the chains. 

The man was eventually identified as Matt Talbot.
 
Born in 1856 into a large Catholic family living in semi-poverty in Dublin, Talbot left school, barely literate, aged just 11 years old, going to work full-time as an unskilled laborer. By his teenage years he was hopelessly addicted to alcohol. Although he had the reputation of being a hard worker, his work ethic was simply the means by which to finance his "hard-drinking."

It is perhaps fitting, therefore, that the next phase of his life began outside a pub. That summer’s day in 1884, he had no money. He hoped that one of his fellow drinkers would stand him a drink. As each acquaintance filed past him into the pub, no one offered to buy him anything. Something then 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 even more surprised to see him 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 counseled him against doing any such thing unless he was intent on persevering. He listened and left.

Talbot did take the pledge that day. He also went to Confession. These actions were to prove the hallmarks of a genuine conversion, one as sincere as it was needed. Nevertheless, the first step of conversion takes but a moment, the work of sanctification a lifetime: after years of drunkenness, still besetting him was a weakness of character and a working world centered on alcohol.

After his conversion, not much changed, outwardly at least: Talbot continued with his employment in the Dublin 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. Previously, when not working, he had spent his time in public houses, but now he turned his back on all that. He had been ‘born anew’, but like a newborn was vulnerable to the world he inhabited. With little to cling to, he turned inward, to the Spirit that seeks to dwell within each baptized soul. And, as he did so, he commenced upon an interior journey that few could have imagined possible.

From then on, along the Dublin streets there began to move a mystic soul. Each morning, at 5 a.m., Talbot knelt upon the stone pavement outside a city church waiting for the doors to open and for 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 labored all day just like the rest of his fellow workers; but there were periods in the day when lulls and breaks would occur. Whilst the other workers gossiped or smoked, Talbot chose to be alone, kneeling in prayer in a hidden part of a workshop until the call came to return to his labors.

Each evening, when work was finished, Talbot walked home with his fellow workers. They all knew their companion’s free time was spent praying in a 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, while 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, as was his pillow. Although respected by those among whom he lived and worked, and although he was not unfriendly, he had few visitors. Those who did encounter him felt he was not quite of this world. They were right; he was traveling ever inwards on a journey to freedom he could never have envisaged when trapped in a never-ending alcoholic stupor.

When his belongings were found after his death, what surprised many 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 begun a course of study that included the spiritual classics, the lives of saints, doctrinal books, and works of mystical and ascetical theology. When asked by a friend how he, a poor workman, could read the works of St. Augustine, John Henry Newman and others, 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 that, in turn, deepened the prayer and penance he undertook.

His life ran alongside momentous events in Irish history. It was a time of cultural renaissance and nationalist fervor, of a Great Strike in 1913 and of open revolution in 1916, of the Great War and a war for independence, yet throughout it all Talbot’s life remained largely unchanged. He 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.

Talbot never married; held no position of note, was unknown outside his 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.

By 1925, Talbot 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 and elderly, but his strength was failing. However, even then, he persisted in his prayer and penance. On June 7, 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 to which Talbot had been hurrying. The priest came and knelt over the fallen man. Realizing what had happened, the priest raised his hand in a last blessing for a final journey.

Talbot died on Trinity Sunday; he was buried on the feast of Corpus Christi.

In 1975, Pope Paul VI bestowed a new title upon this humble workman: Venerable. Now Talbot is a heavenly patron for all those with addictions, alcohol or otherwise.

Still to this day there is a large trunk in the safekeeping of the Archdiocese of Dublin. It contains the books owned by the now 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, de Montfort reflects on the choice of being a slave to this world or of the Blessed Virgin. For those that choose the latter path, it recommends, after due recourse to a spiritual director and suitable enrolment, that a chain be worn to symbolize that that soul no longer belongs to the powers of darkness but is instead now a child of the light.


On that June day in 1925 when Matt Talbot fell upon a Dublin street, his chains were those denoting nothing less than a slave to Mary and an ambassador for Christ.

Matt Talbot: the Chains of Gargle

 

by Rob Buchanan

5th Dec 2014

http://theloosecannonbuchanan.tumblr.com/post/104425453716/matt-talbot-the-chains-of-gargle

 

 

It is the summer of 1925. A crowd surrounds the body man lying motionless on the cobbles of Granby Lane in the grim backstreets of Dublin. He had apparently been running to mass in a nearby church when he dropped dead. A guard arrives on the scene and pushes through the curious onlookers. He rolls the body over to see a gaunt old man’s face. No one present could identify him. As they moved his body to Jervis Street hospital they noted he felt far heavier he looked. When morticians unbuttons his large well-worn coat to look for some form of identification they were shocked at what they found. The frail torso was wrapped in heavy chains and metal cords. He was bound like Marley’s ghost from A Christmas Carol. The largest wound around his waist, others on his arms and legs. The body was later identified as that of Matt Talbot, an unknown Dubliner whose name would soon be on the lips of popes and politicians,and eventually street signs,statues and buildings all over the world.

Dublin in 1856 was a dark time. The day Matt was born a parade celebrating the end of the Crimean War was on in Dublin and it was the first small bit of celebration the city had seen. The Famine had ended and Dublin was bearing the scars both of mass emigration and also the influx of uprooted and desperately poor families from the country. Alcohol was one of the few affordable escapes from the bitter reality of day to day life. The general feeling was that life in Ireland for the working class was the bleakest it had ever been.  The city may have still been in the afterglow of Catholic emancipation but for most average people the new religious freedom meant very little. The industrial revolution never really took hold in Dublin and as a result it was mainly unskilled,casual labourers who swarmed the streets. Guinness and Jameson’s where king when it came to stable employment as well as having a cultural hold on the people via cheap drink and public intoxication. Booze was at the heart of the city and it was being shipped out from the docks and the canals almost as fast as the brewery’s and distilleries could produce it, or Dubliners could drink it. Trams and open top coaches ambled noisily across the city loaded to overflowing with Dubliners. The massive red light zone known as Monto, off O Connell Street (then Sackville Street) was booming with British soldiers and any local with a few shillings in his pocket. This was the hay day for the notorious district which would eventually be brought down by the Legion of Mary and the end of British occupation within a few decades. It was an unlikely breeding ground for religious aesthetic but it was in to this dreary lamp lit port city that Talbot was born to a large poor family of 13 children in Dublin’s North Strand.

When Talbot was still a young boy in 1867 the failed Irish Republican Brotherhood “Fenian” insurrection came to nothing ultimately, despite galvanizing thousands in the city to protest and perhaps consider future possibilities for freedom. But there is no indication that any of this nationalism took root in the Talbot household. They were desperately poor and like most of their class were living in hellishly overcrowded conditions.They were too concerned with their daily bread and their daily pint to look further afield. Alcoholism plagued the men of the family, and when Talbot left school at twelve (which was not uncommon then) his choice of work in a wine merchants proved disastrous. Within a year he was a full blown alcoholic, completely lost in drink. The child was delivering Guinness and getting drunk on the dregs of the returned bottles.The boy then went to work on the Docks near his home and again was drawn to booze by working in the whiskey stores.

 

The drinking culture in Dublin at the time was an endless cycle of poverty and hunger, long miserable working days resulting in wage packets being handed behind the bar. In late 19th century and early 20th century Dublin an appalling procedure of pay for manual labour existed which say workers be required to collect their packet in pubs on Saturday. If it was in cheque form it could only be cashed by the publican himself. Its easy to see how disastrous this was for the families of men waiting at home for food when the father had been all but coerced in to blowing the whole wages in the pub. Like many working class men it was not unusual to pawn the very shirt on his back to fulfill his addiction. He drank regularly in O'Meara’s on the North Strand with his father and brothers. Without a wife or children to provide any framework or motivation to break the cycle, he was still living at home and sinking deeper in to depression. He would literally beg borrow and steal and very quickly became the lowest of the low in a city which was no strangers to mass alcoholism, occasional unemployment and hopelessness. One anecdote, perhaps apocryphal, is that he stole the fiddle of a blind street entertainer to pawn for drink money. At the age of 28 something finally snapped.He had what many addicts call “a moment of clarity” on Newcomen Bridge and decided to take “the pledge.” 

Father Mathew was a famous campaigner in the anti-alcohol abstinence movement in Ireland. A familiar  statue of him stands on O'Connell Street. He popularised the idea of “The Pledge” which was a holy vow taken by lay people to completely stay away from alcohol. Despite of (or perhaps because of)the massive cultural pervasiveness of drunkenness in Irish society at the time, The Pledge became a social phenomenon in the 1840s and 50s. Hundreds of thousands of people from all over the country began to officially take the pledge. And the results on levels of crime and accidents where dramatic. Everything from robberies to murder rates fell and accidental deaths on roads and workplaces likewise. It was 1884 after the first peak of The Pledge that Matt Talbot decided to commit himself to a teetotal life. He went to Holy Cross College and made the solemn oath and surprisingly to everyone, perhaps himself the most, he stuck to it for the remaining 40 years of his life. To bolster his resolve he began what would today be seen as a fanatic level of commitment to prayer and church attendance. In a project which is still encouraged in the Alcoholics Anonymous movement today, he made a list of all his debtors, people he stole from or hurt and spent his life tracking them down and making amends for what he had done. He fasted and charity work among the homeless and hungry of the city as well as alcoholics like himself. He began to siphon all his earnings beyond his meager diet and rent to pay for food and clothing for an ever increasing circle of dependent families. One description of him from a fellow member of the Third Order of Saint Francis, a secular wing of the Franciscans which he joined “happy little man…who smiled at everything except a dirty joke”. It’s quite telling that this is one of the very few records that we get of the man’s demeanor beyond his austere diet and religious habits. Likewise we only have one confirmed blurred photograph of the man. Many of the interactions he had with others around this tumultuous time in Irish history are unclear. For example his level of involvement in the 1913 lockouts is unconfirmed. Whilst some sources claim he had only a passing though positive role others, mainly church orientated, have him resisting financial pressure and not breaking the strike. He was certainly a member of ITGWU. He became studious reading religious texts about the lives of the saints and Irish monastic traditions which may have informed his severe habits. In addition to his new addiction to Catholicism he continued doing hard labour to make a living. But even his choice of jobs and his new alarming enthusiasm for seeking out difficult and backbreaking  work seemed part of his religious epiphany.

 

Perhaps the single biggest influence on Talbot was Dr. Michael Hickey, who was Professor of Philosophy in Clonliffe College where he had first taken the pledge and turned his life around. It was Hickey who first gave Talbot a penitential chain to wear. This original chain was not like the industrial sized ones he would later adopt, it was more a thin symbolic chain like an item of jewellery which would remind him of his promise to abstain. Arguably Talbot’s biggest personal tragedy was the death of his beloved mother in 1915, who he had lived with all his life. He moved in to a tiny Spartan flat. Like monastic aesthetics he slept on a bare plank without a pillow and woke at 5am very day for hours of mass before work. As his fame grew many of the details of Talbots life have been embellished like some religious urban legend. One of the many disputed facts is the size and weight of the chains he carried daily and whether they were a form of self-mortification or simple a symbol of his “slavery to the virgin Mary.” Although its certain some of the details were exaggerated its highly unlikely that the wearing of a few normal devotional cords and medals would have created the frenzy of interest that those discovered on his body did. By the time of his funeral a few days later huge crowds gathered in Glasnevin cemetery. But this would not be his final resting place as almost 50 years later in 1972 his remains were moved to Our Lady of Lourdes Church in Sean McDermott Street. A glass panel allows visitors to see his coffin. This move was the latest step in a process of veneration which had begun in the 1930s which resulted in the lowly alcoholic dock worker being granted the title Venerable Matt Talbot in 1975.

In the hierarchy of the Catholic Church “Venerable” is basically halfway to saint hood.The steps toward canonization are 1) Servant of God 2) Venerable 3) Blessed 4) Saint.To some it might seem as if Talbot did relatively little beyond small scale charity work and self denial to warrant such a title as Venerable. Its really down to the context and to the sponsorship of sympathetic bishops first declaring you a servant of God. Then a Papal proclamation is required to upgrade that to Venerable.This requires you to be declared as having had a life “heroic in virtue"  and certainly many of these virtues such as charity, fortitude and temperance were clearly displayed in Talbot’s later life.The fact that a mini cult of devotees which quickly spread among the Irish poor and across the water to the US must certainly have made the move seem apt to Rome. But was it really as simple as a man finding God and losing drink? I suppose Talbot is the only one who knows what was going on in his mind and soul.

A life of self-denial and guilt may have not been all that uncommon during the time period, but the addition of such extremes of self-punishment points to larger neurosis or person demons or even fetishes at play. That the man remained celibate his whole life in a city and community where pressures towards marriage and family were huge may perhaps give some insight in to the battles Talbot was fighting in his heart and mind. The idea of self-mortification and sin were two pillars of Catholicism. Psychologically they created a potent cycle of guilt due to inescapable human urges and contemporary realities, resulting in the necessity to purge or atone for these affronts against god. Not only did this keep many uneducated people in a constant state of fear and misery about their immortal souls but it secured the churches position and authority as the gatekeepers to heaven. An obedient and unquestioning mass of working class provided the backbone and a very narrow and austere interpretation of the bible, with the passion and poverty of Christ paramount, offered an example of piety. As did the lurid and grotesque representations of martyrdom by the cavalcade of saints in their wound bleeding, lion dismembered or stake burning forms. Was there any sadomasochistic element to this? It seems unlikely that he derived any erotic pleasure from it, as none of the other indicators of fetishism or masochism are apparent in his relationships with others. Talbot was no hermit nor was he initially a seeker of wisdom. An important thing to remember is that unlike many of his contemporaries , and he had divorced himself entirely from any recognition of his suffering or any fame.

Whatever the intentions of the high ranking clergy who saw a great potential in him as a rallying point for the working class and for the drunk or destitute, it’s clear that Talbot himself never sought any adoration and never communicated any particular need to be recognised. But his example and his legend spread far beyond the backstreets of Dublin. He became an icon for the temperance movement and gained a cult following among the Irish diaspora in the United States. Whether you view him as a pious pawn of the catholic church or an inspirational example of how faith and hard work can turn around a hopeless man , its undeniable that Matt Talbot is a unique individual in the history of Dublin city.

 

Note: Photographs are included in the link above.

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?

Relying on the Lord

Venerable Matt Talbot’s life illustrates that the Lord can break all involuntary chains, even the chains in our own minds which hold us back from true peace.*

Venerable Matt Talbot, pray for us that we may grow in the serenity, courage and wisdom which comes from God alone.





*Note:  The chains that Matt was wearing at the time of his death were symbolic of his great devotion to Mary and Jesus. Without those chains, which were inspired by St. Louis de Monfort, we would not know of Matt Talbot today.

"Lines for a Sidewalk Sanctified Where Matt Talbot Died"

One of the San Francisco Bay Area’s most charismatic poets, international speaker, mother of seven children, and a member of the Saint Albert's Chapter of Lay Dominicans, the late Mary Rudge (1928-2014) published multiple books of poetry, including For Ireland (2011). One poem from that volume is presented here:

Lines for a Sidewalk Sanctified Where Matt Talbot Died

On this ordinary place where anyone can walk,

sanctified by pain and faith, in the path of holy,

you, Matt Talbot, of the sidewalk,

can lead us.

The chain scars wrapping your body showed

how you bound it against cravings,

bound it to God,

and the rosary, a link of prayer,

beads on a chain,

these were the strengths you could claim.

You pit your slight self with the power of prayer,

strength of spirit,

against the centuries

of what medicine, science, sociology, psychology,

could claim about addiction—that the

body craves and craves again

against its will.

For the love of God and your own sake,

and the poor mother so hard pressed

to find food out of thin air to feed you,

when all you had belonged to drink,

all you had earned from hard labor was given,

you pawned vest and coat and boots,

pledged-away for next week’s wage

for now a swallow, desperate, captive,

unable to think free, needing to drink.

For your sake and your salvation,

you wrapped yourself in chains,

drug them on your body through life,

vowing to never be any other prisoner

but that of love of God, accept

the body God’s perfect gift to return to God.

Wrapped as a gift, falling in your chains

on the sidewalk,

Were you bead on the Holy Mother’s

Rosary, she who prays sinners be healed?

This is your legacy,

to all us little people who are so human:

lifetime of hard labor,

lifetime of little schooling,

lifetime of innocent wonder

at love’s praises, that

and beyond lifetime, that other

holy mother who clasped you to her

by chain of rosary, pulled you

into heaven and free.


Note:  One source of information about Mary is http://www.zoominfo.com/p/Mary-Rudge/373291096.

The chains that bound a free man

by Patrick Montague

http://archive.catholicherald.co.uk/article/21st-august-1981/9/the-chains-that-bound-a-free-man

THE CULT of Matt Talbot began in the mortuary of Jervis Street Hospital in Dublin, when the chains on his body were discovered.

He had been picked up unconscious in a Dublin street. and died without regaining consciousness. The interest in him spread like a forest fire all over the country and throughout the world.

Not the least of the reasons for this was his very obscurity and the difficulty in piecing -together any relevant facts even about his identity.

Sir Joseph Glynn succeeded in putting together a biography of this obscure Dubliner. and within less than two years it was circulating in more than a dozen languages.

The enormous interest in Matt Talbot has never been fully explained. While his extraordinary personal sanctity seems beyond question. it is also a fact that from the moment of his death he was headline news. Few Irishmen have caught the imagination of his people to the same extent nor indeed the attention of the world at large.

All this is at least partly due to the circumstances of his death. It happens also that his much publicised escape from alcoholism coincided with growing modern concern about this social problem.

His lowly social status made him something of a symbol of the ordinary people in the poor areas of Dublin.

His life was dreary. his education was almost nil. his material prospects negligible. He seemed destined to die in the same obscurity had the accident of his death. in hospital not revealed the chains round his body.

Inevitably curiosity was aroused and his very obscurity increased the widespread interest. His cult was immediate and has grown to proportions seldom equaled, considering that there are people still alive who can recall the excitement caused by his death.

His intercession is frequently invoked and his devoted followers have long considered devotion to him as the surest route to divine favour.

At the age of 28 he suddenly altered his entire lifestyle. Instead of spending all the time he could in public houses, he made God the centre of all his thoughts.

He introduced extraordinary austerities into his Ilk to keep his mind constantly on the spiritual lite. The chains on his body were one thing.. The wooden planks and wooden pillow on his bed were others.

He prayed from 2 am till 4 am and was waiting daily outside church for the Mass at 6 am.

One of those who was able to recall this strange ascetic figure at this early Mass was an altar boy who later testified to his sanctity. This was Sean T. O'Kelly, President of Ireland.

Matt Talbot's sanctity was intensely personal. He did not attempt to influence others directly. He did not in any way exhibit his devotion.

Indeed he kept it to himself so successfully that even now no one knows just when he began his privations. He shared his life entirely with Almighty God.

Even those with whom he worked knew nothing of his intense spirituality beyond the fact that he remonstrated with them at any sign of irreverence in their talk or behaviour.

Intense asceticism was a well-known feature of Irish life in the early centuries of Christianity. Most Irishmen would say it was a passing phase consistent with the times.

Matt Talbot showed that this was not the case. He was the modern example of the ancient monks of Ireland. He showed that this kind of example is as relevant today as it was fourteen and fifteen centuries ago.

The intense interest he has aroused has shown that many people in the world can be deeply impressed and affected by such personal example.

The canonisation of Matt Talbot is confidently expected at all levels of society. If and when it comes about, he is already elected by devoted followers to be the hope and inspiration of all problem drinkers whose desperate need for such hope and inspiration exceeds that of most other sections of mankind.

Note:  Additional articles about Matt Talbot from this archive can be found at http://archive.catholicherald.co.uk/search?term=Matt+Talbot&page=1&keyword=Matt+Talbot

Consecrate this Lent to Jesus through Mary

One of the most influential spiritual writers for Matt Talbot was St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort, who recommended a particular method of consecrating oneself wholly and entirely to the Most Blessed Virgin Mary and, through Mary, to Jesus. The chains that were found on Matt’s body after his death were part of his consecration to Mary.”

For those who might want a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to consecrate this Lent to Jesus through Mary, clink:

http://newtheologicalmovement.blogspot.com/2012/02/consecrate-this-lent-to-jesus-through.html#uds-search-results

Photographs and relics related to Matt Talbot's life

Pilgrimage to the Tomb of Matt Talbot

“On Saturday 27th November, as the Matt Talbot Novena concludes, some parishioners from St. Senan's Parish, Shannon, Co. Clare made a pilgrimage of Matt Talbot in Sean McDermott Street, Dublin.
Fr. Brian Lawless, the vice postulator for the cause of Venerable Matt Talbot, celebrated Mass for the pilgrims at the tomb. He also spoke about the life of Matt and shared the relics with those who had come on pilgrimage...Our thanks to Pat Grue for the photographs.”

[Triple-click each photograph to enlarge]


Source: http://www.shannonparish.ie/2011/11/pilgrimage-to-the-tomb-of-matt-talbot

/

Video about Venerable Matt Talbot

Fr. James Kubicki, S.J., narrates a two-minute introductory video about Matt Talbot, Alcoholics Anonymous, and finding God.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbVu-3UliNc or http://www.xt3.com/library/view.php?id=2909&categoryId=36


Note: A promotion clip of a DVD about Matt's life story can be found by clicking our "documentary film" and "DVD" labels. The DVD includes an interview with Matt's grand niece among others.

Mortification

"Mortification" is a term that periodically appears in reference to Matt Talbot. These two links provide an introduction to its etymology, forms, purposes and practices:

Mortification of the flesh in various religions and cultures Mortification in Roman Catholic teaching

Mother Mary, Matt Talbot, and a Porn Addict

As this story indicates, the influence of Matt Talbot is wider than just for those interested in recovery from alcoholism. More about Matt F. and his ministry to youth and adults can be found at his website below.

My Story

Matthew F.

By the time I was 12 years of age I was hooked on pornography.

I remember as a young boy, probably 6 or 7, playing in my grandparents back yard. I was making 'dirt bombs'. Dirt bombs or 'dirt ronnies' are when you grab fist fulls of hard dirt to throw at someone. The Harder the better. Me and my brother would spend hours out there mucking around throwing dirt ronnies and climbing Nan's TV tower. I remember very distinctly stumbling into my Pops shed and finding a center fold of a naked woman. I was completely captivated by it, it was beautiful and yet something in me knew I shouldn't be looking at it. Every time I'd come back to Nan & Pop's house I'd go back to that picture and stare at it.

About the age of 13 I had a good size stack of porn hidden under my bottom drawer. My best mate and I would steal them from newspaper shops and collect them. One day my Dad brought home this do-it-yourself carpet cleaning kit thing and so everything had to be lifted up off the floor to be cleaned (you know where this is going). Dad found my stash of porn under my bottom drawer which I had thought was an impenetrable hiding place. Dad came outside and said "nice collection of playboy's and penthouses you got there Matt, just don't let your mother find out." Now God bless my Dad, he's a good man and looking back I can see that he was trying to relate to me, trying to be nice. What he did though, was reaffirm the lie I'd been believing that real men look at porn and that there was nothing wrong with that.

At this time in my life I had a Granddad who hid porn in his shed, a Father who almost congratulated me for having my own stash, a grade 8 teacher who told us on a school camping trip that masturbation was "a good and healthy thing" and to top it off I had my best friends Mum who would take us to video stores and hire porn for us so me and my friend could go back to his house and watch them after dinner.

It got to the stage where I was masturbating and looking at pornography basically everyday (thanks to the internet), and the further and further I sunk in my addiction the more defensive I got towards the notion that porn was in anyway "bad" or "degrading". I'd tell myself that I just liked the beauty of womanhood more than guys that never looked at it. I told myself I wasn't hurting anyone. I said whatever I could to justify it.

In the year 2000 when I was 17 I had a life changing experience and became a Christian. This was the most profound and joy filled moment of my life. It also posed a problem. No matter how much I tried to justify my porn addiction the reality was and is that porn and Jesus don't go together, kind of like chewing gum and chips or toothpaste and orange juice. So I tried with all my might to stop. But like a alcoholic or a junkie I kept relapsing and going back to it like a dog goes back to lick up its vomit.

I knew that this wasn't the kind of man I wanted to become. What kind of man closes the curtains in his room and clicks around on the internet with his pants around his ankles all for the sake of tingly feelings in his groin. I knew this was a counterfeit of manhood and prayed constantly that I would be free. Over the course of the next few years I continued to struggle. Sometimes I'd go days, sometimes weeks, sometimes even months without looking at porn or masturbating. But those times of freedom were book ended by another hopeless fall.

Allow me to cut a very long story short.

One night while my beautiful pregnant wife was out I had had enough. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. Sick of trying so hard not to fall when it seemed only to make it worse. My first child was about to be born in 7 months and I KNEW this had to end. But how?

I saw a statue of Venerable Matt Talbot who is on his way to sainthood. In his life became addicted to alcohol at around the age of 12, he would even come home at times without a shirt or his only pair of boots because he had sold them for alcohol. This man and I were in a very similar situation for he too was sick of what his addiction was doing to him. I read how he went to a church and took a pledge for 3 months that not one drop would touch his lips, it was hard but he made it and then took the pledge for a year and finally for life. He fell in love with Jesus in the Eucharist. He considered himself a slave of Mary (don't be afraid of the language, I'll explain).

This statue I saw had a Celtic cross with a chain that ran around the border, in front of the cross was the Mother of Jesus who had the chains across her chest and in front of Our Lady was Matthew Talbot, on his knees, the chains around his wrists were broken and he was set free! From that day forward I to took a pledge for 3 months that I would not look at porn or masturbate, after the 3 months I took it for life.

I have prayed the rosary daily understanding that I could not overcome my addiction by will power. At the end of each rosary I hold up the beads in my hands and say "Mother Mary, I have taken up your chain, now take off myne!" What can I say? She has!! I am now experiencing a freedom from this I never knew possible. I figured that if I ever overcame porn than I'd still be severely tempted but would be strong enough to resist.

You want to know the reason I no longer look at pornography or masturbate anymore? I have NO DESIRE to. FREEDOM is POSSIBLE! I am not a man with any sort of super human self control but I am free.

We have to understand that women are beautiful, the most beautiful creatures on earth, it is good and holy for us men to be attracted to them! Even now as I drive down the road, if there is a billboard of a beautiful woman it turns my head! This is okay but we need to make a decision at that point. Do we praise God for her beauty or do we lust? The problem with Porn isn't that it shows too much, it's that it shows too little! Too little of the person! This is the problem! Women are beautiful, the naked body is BEAUTIFUL but divorcing the body from everything else is completely unhealthy in every respect. Looking back now I see that those women I looked at in the porn may as well have been dead for all I cared, because I was only after the body!

I know firsthand how addictive pornography can be, but I also know that true freedom and healing are possible.

Don't fall into the trap of saying that very foolish thing people say about porn, "Hey, everything is fine in moderation". No it's not. I can give you a few examples of things that are very much NOT okay in moderation: Racism, cocaine, suicide, prejudice. While alcohol is a blessing from God so long as we do not abuse it. Pornography is always wrong because someone is always being exploited. So while yes, pornography can become an "addiction" where it over runs your life. This does not mean that it is healthy in moderation.

Source: http://www.whodoesithurt.com/id12.html

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This may be the statue that Matthew is referring to in his story.hiT& A

A 12-Ste

& AA 12-Step Program Recovery Creed

http://64.233.183.104/search?q=cache:ptoiARbuT6kJ:www.ourladyoftheisland.org/foundersway.htm+matt+talbot+statue&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=38&gl=us&client=firefox-a

St. Louis Marie de Montfort and Matt Talbot

Today, April 28, is the feast day of St. Louis Marie de Montfort, whose writings had a significant influence on Matt Talbot during the last forty years of his life. The chains that were found on Matt's body after his death were part of his "Total Consecration to Mary," which was popularized by de Montford. Today, however, the wearing of a chain or medal reminding one of holy slavery to Mary is an optional practice.

Links for further reading:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_de_Montfort

one biography of St. Louis de Montfort's life

St. Louis de Montfort's works and articles about his spirituality.

Online texts of Louis de Montfort's works

Matt Talbot - A Model for all Men and Women

August 15, 2004 Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Abbey of Saint Joseph de Claifval

In a street in Dublin, Ireland, the morning of Trinity Sunday, June 7, 1925, a man who was making his way to a nearby church suddenly collapsed, dead. His body was taken to the hospital and washed by a religious nurse. She was greatly amazed when, in removing the deceased's clothing, she discovered a chain from which hung religious medals, wound twice around his waist. Other chains or cords encircled his arms and legs. Although these rusty chains were embedded in his skin, his body was impeccably clean. So who was this man? Was he insane or a saint?

From beer to whiskey

Matt Talbot was born in Dublin in May 1856, the sixth child in a family of twelve. As a young boy, he was placed in the school of the Brothers of the Christian Doctrine, where he did not do well in his studies. At the age of 12, he began work in a brewery. Working in an atmosphere where alcohol was everywhere, he soon followed the bad example of the other employees and began to empty the bottles. Seeing him come home every evening in unusually good spirits, his father intervened and found him another job, under his own supervision, with the port and docks committee. But Matt's situation got worse—he got into the habit of swearing and using the dockers' strong language. To top it all off, his new work buddies introduced him to whiskey! His father tried to dissuade him, and came to blows over it with him, but to no use. To his parents' despair, Matt removed himself from the paternal authority and sank into drunkenness. However, the young man was a kind-hearted soul. Realizing the dishonor he had brought upon his father, he left the docks and was hired as a mason. He then spent every evening in cabarets and regularly went home drunk. He spent his entire paycheck on booze. He sank to such a point in vice that sometimes he resorted to stealing to get ahold of alcohol.

His body was slowly being destroyed. But, more serious still is the sin that gives death to the soul: intemperate use of drink offends the Creator. Through alcoholism, just as through drugs, man voluntarily deprives himself of the use of reason, the most noble attribute of human nature. This licentiousness, when carried out in full knowledge and voluntarily, is a serious sin against God and also against the neighbor whom one, in a state of drunkenness, puts himself in danger of seriously offending. As with all serious sin, such overindulgence brings with it a loss of the state of grace, the greatest misfortune that can befall man. Indeed, man has no good more precious than the friendship of God. But this friendship is lost through serious sin. Our Lord warned His disciples against such misfortune: Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned (Jn. 15:6). With these words, Jesus reveals to us the fate reserved for those who reject the divine friendship offered to every man by means of the redeeming Incarnation. Such a rejection leads to eternal death, hell, about which the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) tells us: «Jesus often speaks of Gehenna, of the unquenchable fire reserved for those who to the end of their lives refuse to believe and be converted, where both body and soul can be lost. Jesus solemnly proclaims that He will send His angels, and they will gather... all evil doers, and throw them into the furnace of fire, and that he will pronounce the condemnation: Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire! The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity. Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell, where they suffer the punishments of hell, eternal fire. The chief punishment of hell is eternal separation from God, in Whom alone man can possess the life and happiness for which he was created and for which he longs. The affirmations of Sacred Scripture and the teachings of the Church are a call to the responsibility incumbent upon man to make use of his freedom in view of his eternal destiny. They are at the same time an urgent call to conversion: Enter by the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few (Mt. 7:13-14)» (CCC 1034-36).

The renunciation of sin and conversion to God are necessary for anyone who desires eternal life. To the question from the young man who asked, Master, what good must I do to possess everlasting life? Jesus replied, If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments (Mt. 19:16-17). Saint Benedict speaks no differently to the disciple who comes forward to enter monastic life: «[T]he Lord is waiting every day for us to respond by our deeds to His holy admonitions. And the days of this life are lengthened and a truce granted us for this very reason, that we may amend our evil ways. As the Apostle says, Do you not know that God's patience is inviting you to repent? For the merciful Lord tells us, I desire not the death of the sinner, but that the sinner should be converted and live... Therefore we must prepare our hearts and our bodies to do battle under the holy obedience of His commands; and let us ask God that He be pleased to give us the help of His grace for anything which our nature finds hardly possible. And if we want to escape the pains of hell and attain life everlasting, then, while there is still time, while we are still in the body and are able to fulfil all these things by the light of this life, we must hasten to do now what will profit us for eternity» (Rule, Prologue). We must therefore not put conversion off until tomorrow, as Saint John Chrysostom observed: «Let us consider our salvation. Do not delay in converting yourselves to the Lord, and put it not off from day to day (Sir. 5:8); for you do not know what tomorrow will bring« You had become intoxicated, you filled your bellies, you pillaged? Stop now, and turn back. Give thanks to God that you were not taken away in the midst of your sins« Consider that what is at stake is your soul«» (Homily on the second letter to the Corinthians).

A stroke of grace

In spite of his debasement, Matt retained a degree of propriety. He did not have illicit relations. Every morning, no matter the libations of the night before, he was up at six o'clock to go to work. He also faithfully attended Sunday Mass, even if he did not receive the Sacraments. One Saturday in 1884, divine grace knocked at his door. After having been out of work for a week, Matt, 28 years old, found himself without money and unable to buy alcohol. And yet, he was tormented by desire. Around noon, he went to station himself with Philip, his younger brother, on a street corner where workers passed after having received their pay. Surely one or another would invite him to have a drink. The workers passed and greeted him, but no one invited him. Matt was cut to the quick. To be deprived of alcohol cost him dearly, but most of all, he was wounded by the harshness of his friends, to whom he had frequently offered a round at the cabaret. He abruptly went home. His mother was quite surprised to see him arrive so early, and sober. His mother! Matt was seized with the thought that he had been so ungrateful towards her. He had given his parents almost nothing toward board and lodging (all his money went to buy alcohol!) and now his heart was broken for having left them to suffer alone, while he went off to drink in a selfish manner. At this time in Ireland, it was not unusual for a man who wanted to give up drinking to make a pledge. After the meal, sitting alone with his mother, Matt suddenly said, «I'm going to make the pledge.»—«Good heavens! Do it, but don't make it if you can't keep it!»—«I will make it, in God's name.» After having carefully dressed himself, he went to the College of the Holy Cross, asked to see a priest, and confessed. On the priest's prudent advice, Matt made his pledge for a three-month period. The next day, he went to hear the five o'clock Mass at Saint Francis Xavier Church, received Communion and returned home renewed. But to remain faithful to his pledge, the struggle would be terrible. Matt therefore decided to draw from daily Communion the spiritual strength he would need to keep his resolution. The most difficult time was the evening, after work. To avoid temptation, the newly-converted began to take walks in the city. One day, however, he entered a cabaret at the same time as a number of other customers. The bartender, who was busy, seemed to ignore Matt, who, offended by this inattention, left as quickly as possible, having decided never again to set foot in a pub.

«Will I ever drink again?»

During his walks, Matt met with another difficulty: alcohol had ruined his health, and he grew tired quickly. So, entering a church, he knelt before the Tabernacle and began to pray, begging God to strengthen him. He thus got into the habit of visiting the house of God. Nevertheless, the three months were long. The symptoms of alcohol withdrawal—hallucinations, depression, nausea—were for him a veritable Calvary. At times, the old passion awakened in him—he had to struggle desperately and prolong his prayers. One day, returning home, he collapsed into a chair and sadly said to his mother: «It's all no use, Mother—once these three months are over, I will drink again«» But his mother comforted him and encouraged him to pray. Following this advice to the letter, Matt acquired a taste for prayer, and therein found his salvation. Indeed, prayer allows us to get out of situations that are hopeless in human terms. For God all things are possible (Mt. 19:26). Saint Alphonsus of Liguori, a doctor of the Church, affirms: «The grace to pray is given to everyone, such that if someone loses his soul, he has no excuse« Pray, pray, pray and never abandon prayer: he who prays is certainly saved; he who does not pray is certainly damned» (cf. CCC 2744). When the three months were over, astonished to have «stuck it out,» Matt renewed his vow for another six months, at the end of which time he promised never to drink alcohol again.

Matt began a new life, a life of intimacy with God, of which daily Mass was the pillar. But, in 1892, the five A.M. Mass at which Matt usually received Communion was canceled. The first Mass from then on was at 6:15. Despite the real skill he had acquired in his work, he did not hesitate to change jobs, and was hired as a simple manual labor at a wood merchant's, where work didn't start until eight o'clock. His new job consisted of loading trucks. At night, as soon as work was over, he washed up with care, put on his best clothes—because he did not want to enter the house of God with his work clothes on—and went to the church to visit the Blessed Sacrament. One day, he admitted to his confessor: «I greatly desired the gift of prayer, and my wish has been fully granted.» His existence from them on was completely directed towards God, and especially to the true presence of the Lord in the Tabernacle. «[W]hile the Eucharist is reserved in churches or oratories—Christ is truly Emmanuel, which means God with us,» wrote Pope Paul VI. «For He is in the midst of us day and night; He dwells in us with the fullness of grace and of truth. He raises the level of morals, fosters virtue, comforts the sorrowful, strengthens the weak and stirs up all those who draw near to Him to imitate Him, so that they may learn from His example to be meek and humble of heart, and to seek not their own interests but those of God. Anyone who has a special devotion to the sacred Eucharist and who tries to repay Christ's infinite love for us with an eager and unselfish love of his own, will experience and fully understand—and this will bring great delight and benefit to his soul—just how precious is a life hidden with Christ in God and just how worthwhile it is to carry on a conversation with Christ, for there is nothing more consoling here on earth, nothing more efficacious for progress along the paths of holiness» (Encyclical Mysterium fidei, September 3, 1965).

The meaning of the chains

Matt Talbot cherished a tender devotion to the Mother of Jesus. Every day, he recited the Rosary and the office of the Blessed Virgin. Around 1912, he read the Treatise on True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin, by Saint Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort. In this book, he learned to practice «holy Slavery» through the consecration of his entire being and all his possessions to the service of Mary. As a practical means of living in the spirit of this filial attachment to Mary, Saint Grignion recommended the wearing of a small chain. This is the meaning of the chains found on Matt Talbot's body after his death.

Naturally quick-tempered, Matt came to find it difficult to endure his companions' swearing and coarse language. When they took the Lord's name in vain, he respectfully lifted his hat. Seeing this gesture, his friends would redouble their bad language. At first, Matt would severely reprimand them, but later on, he limited himself to gently saying, «Jesus Christ hears you.» One day, he sharply criticized his foreman for a less than generous charitable contribution. His boss called him back to respect and, the next day, Matt reported to his boss: «Our Lord,» he declared, «told me that I must ask your forgiveness. I am coming to do it.» His exemplary life ended up inspiring respect. What is more, he was a pleasant companion, always the first to laugh at a good joke, provided that it was within the limits of propriety.

«Your clothes look wretched»

In imitation of the ancient Irish monks who followed the tradition of Saint Columba, Matt Talbot imposed upon himself an ascetic dietary regimen, both for the expiation of his sins as well as to mortify himself and promote in himself the life of the spirit. However, when friends invited him, he ate like everyone else. Entering the Third Order of Saint Francis, he applied himself to imitate Christ's poverty, reducing his needs to the bare minimum, and giving the rest to the poor. At the beginning of his conversion, he had kept the habit of smoking. One day, one of his friends asked him for tobacco. He had just bought a pipe and a bag of tobacco. In a heroic gesture, he gave them both away, and would never smoke again. He ordinarily wore shabby and threadbare clothes, and one day, someone gave him a new suit. He wanted to refuse it, but his confessor intervened—«Talbot, your clothes look wretched. They are offering you a new suit«»—«Father, I promised God never to wear new clothes.»—«Well!» replied the Father. «It's God Who is sending you these!»—«All right, if it's God Who is sending them to me, I'll take them.»

If there was one luxury that Matt allowed himself, it was books. He loved to spend time reading, his favorite reading material being the Holy Scriptures and the writings of the Saints. Flipping through the Bible found in his home after his death, one could notice that he was especially fond of the Psalms, particularly the penitential Psalms in which the sinner expresses regret to God for his sins, but also unshakable confidence in divine mercy: Have mercy on me, O God, in Your goodness; in the greatness of Your compassion wipe out my offense. Thoroughly wash me from my guilt and of my sin cleanse me« Give me back the joy of Your salvation« (Psalm 50 [51] «Miserere»). He also made notes that reveal an astonishing elevation of thought for a man of very rudimentary schooling. Some examples of his reflections: «Our time in this life is only a race to death, in which no man can stop« Freedom of the mind is gained by freeing oneself from pride, which makes the soul disposed to do the will of God in the smallest things« Applying the will consists in doing good, abusing it consists in doing evil« In meditation, we seek God through reason and commendable acts, but in contemplation, we see effortlessly«» This life of prayer and penitence was strengthened by exceptional graces. One day he confided to his sister: «How sad it is to see what little love people have for God!« Oh Susan! If you knew the profound joy I felt last night as I was conversing with God and His Blessed Mother!», then, realizing that he was talking about himself, he changed the subject.

There was profound unrest in Ireland in the period from 1911 to 1921—labor conflicts marked by unemployment and strikes, the struggle for home rule, the First World War, then the war between Ireland and England. In the midst of this unrest, Matt kept his soul in peace. Nevertheless, the workers' cause was close to his heart. He candidly condemned the inadequacy of the salaries of married workers, whom he helped financially as much as he could. But he never demanded anything for himself. When friends quit their jobs or were dismissed, he expressed support of their cause.

«Thank the Great Healer»

At the age of sixty-seven, Matt Talbot was physically spent—shortness of breath and heart palpitations forced him to ease up on his activities. After two hospital stays in 1923 and 1925, he recovered to some degree and took up his work again. During these stays, as soon as he was able, he would go to the chapel. To a nun who scolded him for the fright he had given her when he disappeared from his room, he answered, smiling, «I have thanked the sisters and the doctors—was it not right to thank the Great Healer?» On Sunday, June 7, 1925, he was making his way to the Church of the Holy Saviour. Exhausted, he collapsed on the sidewalk. A lady gave him a glass of water. Matt opened his eyes, smiled, and let his head fall down again—this was the great encounter so desired with Christ Who came to call, not the self-righteous, but sinners (Mt. 9:13). In 1975, Matt Talbot received the title «Venerable». Today, many charitable organizations dedicated to helping victims of alcohol and drugs place themselves under his patronage.

Matt Talbot is a model for all men and women. To victims of alcoholism or drugs, he shows through his example that with the grace of God, recovery is possible. «Alcohol addictions are at times so strong that those closest to the alcoholic are led to believe that he will never overcome his addiction, and the alcoholic himself is tempted to lose all hope. It is good then to remember Jesus' resurrection. This reminds us that failure is never God's last word» (Social Commission of French Bishops, declaration of December 1, 1998). To those who are slaves to other sins (idolatry, blasphemy, abortion, euthanasia, contraception, adultery, debauchery, homosexuality, masturbation, stealing, false witness, slander, etc.), he reminds them that one must «never despair of God's mercy,» in accordance with Saint Benedict's recommendation (Rule, ch. 4). Our Lord promised St. Margaret Mary that sinners would find in His Heart the source and the infinite ocean of mercy. Just as it is the nature of a ship to sail on the water, it is God's nature to forgive and be merciful, as the Church confirms in one of its prayers. Saint Therese of Lisieux, Doctor of the Church, also was able to write near the end of her manuscripts: «Even if I had on my conscience all the sins that can be committed, I would go, my heart broken with repentance, to throw myself into the arms of Jesus, for I know how much He loves the prodigal child who returns to Him.» She added, in spoken words, «If I had committed all the crimes it is possible to commit, I would still have the same confidence, I would feel that this multitude of offenses would be like a drop of water thrown into a raging blaze.» Matt Talbot's life eloquently proves that by turning faithfully to the Lord to ask forgiveness, one may, through the Sacrament of Penance, the normal way of reconciliation with God, begin a new life under Mary's maternal gaze.

Venerable Matt Talbot, obtain for us the grace of turning with confidence to the divine mercy, and of going to the very end of the demands of a passionate love for Jesus and Mary!

Dom Antoine Marie osb.

Permission of the Saint Joseph Abbey (France) for the Venerable Matt Talbot Resource Center to reproduce this “Letter” was received on 11/26/07. We added the title for posting purposes.

Source: http://www.clairval.com/lettres/en/2004/08/15/2180804.htm