Lay Saints: Ascetics and Penitents

In her 2016 book, “Lay Saints: Ascetics and Penitents,” Joan Carroll Cruz includes 58 profiles including Venerable Matt Talbot  (pages 169-173), which can be read in its entirety at https://www.scribd.com/document/335235532/Lay-Saints-Ascetics-and-Penitents-Joan-Carroll-Cruz

Conversion Story of Zacchaeus, Matt Talbot and ?

PASTOR’S CORNER

Fr. Tom Huff

31st Sunday Gospel  Luke 19:1-10

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:Vd0NhO96sJEJ:stjohn-edgar.org/clickbuilds/StJohn/church/pastors-corner+&cd=14&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us

We read in the First reading from the Book of Wisdom: “Lord . . . You have mercy on all . . . and You overlook people’s sins that they may repent.  For You love all things that are and loathe nothing that You have made; for You would not have fashioned what You hated.”

There is a blunt saying which says: “God doesn’t make junk!”  But the message is true!!!  God really doesn’t make junk!   It took Venerable Matt Talbot 28 years to understand the truth of this reality.  He was born in Ireland on May 2, 1856 and died at the age of 69 on June 7, 1925.  He was an unskilled laborer and had started drinking when he was 12 years old.  His conversion began 16 years later when he was 28.  One Saturday morning he was not able to get up for work because of his hangover, but that evening he went to the tavern where he and his buddies drank.  However his buddies strangely totally ignored him as if he wasn’t there. His initial anger turned into confusion and then into peace and calm. Grace somehow touched his heart and he went home without touching a drop.  “You’re home early”, his mother said.  He told to her, “I’m going to stop drinking for good.”  

He knew it would hard and decided it was time to go to confession.  It had been three years since his last confession and he had been drunk every day since then. During confession he took the pledge to renounce alcohol for three months.  He began to go to daily Mass, which he continued to do until the day he died.  Three months seemed like an eternity and involved a terrible struggle.  But he stayed away from the pub and his drinking friends.  He slept only four hours, spending the rest of the night reading spiritual books and praying.  He especially turned to reading the lives of the saints to replace his former friends who were still drinking.

Having remained sober for three months he took the pledge for another three months.  His thumping headaches and emotional turmoil began to subside and he felt new hope rise within.  He also stopped cursing.  After a year and a half of sobriety he took the pledge for life. He wanted to do penance to make up for his sixteen years of drinking.  He slept on boards with a block of wood for his pillow. He fasted eating only enough food to stay healthy.  He also gave much of his weekly wages to various charities. He certainly may be considered a “Patron Saint” of those struggling with alcoholism.  His story of conversion shows us that a very ordinary person can with God’s help can change, and it reminds us that our Lord came to seek out what was lost.

We don’t know all the details concerning the conversion of Zacchaeus, but like Matt Talbot we know the results: even though it was very hard, he changed his life for the better!  Zacchaeus gave away half of his wealth to the poor, and he restored four-fold any money he had falsely collected.  He went from being a selfish person, a thief and cheater, into a new person who now thought of others and sought to redress his wrongdoings.

In the Christian Tradition, we call the experiences of both Matt Talbot and Zacchaeus as one of repentance and conversion.  And these two examples remind us that no one here including ourselves or anyone else we know, no matter how hopeless they may appear, is beyond the grasp of God through repentance and conversion.

Let us pray daily for courage and fortitude, both for ourselves and for others, whom God may be calling to a holier way of life, to repentance and conversion.  Who knows who was praying and doing penance for Matt Talbot, most likely his mother.  Whoever it was, they understood that God doesn’t make junk, and that He overlooks people’s sins so that they may repent.

One reflection on Matt Talbot

[This slightly edited article is available at http://fatherdoyle.com/2012/06/08/thoughts-for-june-8-from-fr-willie-doyle-2./. . References to Matt Talbot periodically appear on the website.]

Venerable Matt Talbot

I do not want, in fact I forbid you, to be imprudent in the matter of corporal penances. But, my dear child, if you let a whole fortnight go by without any self-inflicted pain, can you honestly look Jesus in the face and say, “I am like to Him”?

COMMENT: The idea of self-inflicted pain is not popular in contemporary spirituality. Oddly enough though, it seems wildly popular in modern secular culture with its fad for physical fitness and punishing bodies in the gym in order to make them ever more attractive…


Physical mortification was the norm in Fr Doyle’s day [1873-1917] – there was nothing unusual in it all. While Fr Doyle was quite severe on himself on occasion, he always urged caution on the part of others. However, despite his caution, he issues an interesting challenge today – do we really imitate the crucified Christ if we do not do penance ourselves, even in some small fashion?


Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Venerable Matt Talbot. Matt died in 1925. He was close to the Jesuits and attended the Jesuit Church in Gardiner Street almost every day for many years. Fr Doyle was based in Belvedere School (about 200m from this church) for about a year around 1909. It is probable that he lived in the community in Gardiner Street. It seems more than likely that Fr Doyle crossed paths with Matt Talbot at some stage. However, we have no record of such an event, so we can only speculate. Similarly, we have no record of Matt having read O’Rahilly’s biography of Fr Doyle. Yet, Matt – despite being an unschooled labourer – was a voracious reader of spiritual literature and especially of spiritual biographies. It would be most strange if he never read this wildly popular book about a heroic local Jesuit. We know that he used to give books away or lend them to others, so perhaps he had it and passed it on. We shall never know…


As is well known, Matt dropped dead on the street while on the way to Mass. It was this sudden death that allowed his penitential chains to be found on his body. Matt is held in very high esteem all around the world, but especially in Dublin. His harsh penances did not repel people – on the contrary his asceticism is fundamentally part of his charm. His chains are important relics and an important part of his story and spirituality. Matt is not alone in this – many of the most popular saints lived deeply penitential lives, and it has not diminished their popularity one bit. How odd then if anyone were to think that Fr Doyle’s asceticism would make him less appealing to the public…


Matt’s example also teaches us a profound lesson in avoiding sin. After his conversion, he was determined not to fall back into alcoholism. He prayed hard, but he also took action – he organised his life in such a way that he would not face temptations. He kept himself busy and away from pubs and he even made it something of a rule never to carry money with him in case he was tempted to buy a drink. Do we avoid temptations with the same determination and single-mindedness that Matt had?

Matt’s heroic virtues have been formally recognised by the Church; now a miracle is required for his beatification. Ireland needs saints! We need beatifications and canonisations! Let us remember to pray through the intercession of Matt Talbot when we are in need of help.

Breaking the bonds of addiction

In our earlier posting today titled, "Matt Talbot as an image of liberty," Fr. John Bonavitacola refers to a recent book by Cardinal Justin Rigali of Philadelphia, Let the Oppressed Go Free: Breaking the Bonds of Addiction (2009, Basilica Press).

Here is part of an interview by Lou Baldwin with Cardinal Rigali about this book:

“I found it (Q & A format) quite satisfactory,” Cardinal Rigali said. “The text itself could be quite precise because the questions were precise. That way we got around excessive generalities. The formula is something like the ‘Baltimore Catechism;’ there is something to be said about that.”

His particular topic, the Cardinal said, was chosen by him in consultation with Basilica Press.

“This is something that is very relevant and useful, and I was hoping by writing it I could make a contribution that could help people in their lives. I’ll be very pleased if it will get into the hands of people it will help or those who will help them.”

Although the Cardinal’s book cites such traditional addictions as alcohol and drugs, others noted didn’t exist a decade or two ago; for example, online shopping and cyber-pornography. This leads to the question, is today’s environment more conducive to addictive behavior than in the past?

“I believe today’s environment is much more challenging,” the Cardinal said. “Technology, for its many blessings, does present special difficulties. In that sense you can say the environment is more conducive to addictive behavior.”

As addiction is acquired, he said, “freedom is wounded.” It is important to try to ward off addiction long before it takes place because once it takes hold free will is gone.”

Addiction, he said, “actually leads to slavery, and in doing so we have tremendous violence done to one of our greatest gifts, which is the gift of free will.”

In the book the Cardinal advocates the use of spiritual advisors, prayer and the sacraments of penance and the Eucharist for those fighting addictions.

“Prayer is extremely important in overcoming addiction and avoiding addiction to begin with,” he said. “For those who are in the household of our faith, penance and Eucharist are so important. Their value, their power, can never be over-estimated.” To try to overcome addiction through willpower alone is absolutely insufficient. It is not only problematic it is impossible.

Cardinal Rigali likened this approach to the heresy of Pelagianism which said man can ascend to God by his own power.

“Just as that was successfully debunked over the years we know that in addictions you cannot raise yourself up by your own power alone,” he said.

Willpower is to be absolutely cultivated but it is to be combined with natural and supernatural means.

One of the natural means prominently covered in the book is the Twelve Step Program. It was originally designed to overcome alcohol addiction but has since been adopted for many other addictions.

“A very important principal of the Twelve Steps is to speak of the power of God or at least of a Higher Power, and that’s something essential to overcome addictions,” the Cardinal said. “It is a great thing that it is so recognized now, if not universally recognized, certainly greatly recognized, the need to rely on the power of God and His help through which we receive grace and strength.”

There are natural helps and supernatural helps, and “the Church draws our attention to this and says, ‘Don’t be discouraged. God’s love abides with His people.’ For those who have slipped into addictions it is possible, with God’s help, to overcome them,” Cardinal Rigali said.

“Let the Oppressed Go Free” is the seventh book in The Shepherd’s Voice Series, according to Alan Napleton, President and CEO of Basilica Press and is available through its distributor, Catholic Work
(800-932-3826) or through religious bookstores.

Following upon the early positive reception of the book, there will be a conference based upon the book and its topic of addictions through the lens of Catholic teaching."


Note:  The homily and remarks by Cardinal Rigalis at this conference can be found by clicking:November 5, 2010: "Let the Oppressed Go Free: Breaking the Bonds of Addiction" Remarks to Conference Participants

November 5, 2010: "Let the Oppressed Go Free: Breaking the Bonds of Addiction" Homily During Mass for Participants ]

A review of this book by Professor Oliver Morgan of the University of Scranton can be found at:  Let the oppressed go - Page 1 of 7 Let the oppressed go free ...

Source of interview: http://cst-phl.com/cardinal-rigalis-new-book-tackles-the-problem-of-addictions-p1086.htm. 

We greatly appreciate all of this information being available online.

2010 Stained Glass of Matt Talbot

 


This stained glass surrounding one exit at The Shrine of the Penitent, St. Mary Magdalen Parish in Kentwood, Michigan, represents Venerable Matt Talbot, as a drunkard (on the left) and after conversion and recovery (on the right). The overall architectural design of the Shrine and church focuses on a place where sinners and penitents, might find refuge, comfort, and forgiveness. 

(Besides the Matt Talbot stained glass, each of the additional eight exits surrounded by stained glass, not reproduced here, represent a saint or other whose actions before total conversion to God reinforce the belief in penitence: St. Mary Magdalen, a woman possessed by seven demons; St. Augustine of Hippo, a hedonist; King David, adulterer and murderer; St. Dismas, a condemned thief; St. Peter, who denied the Lord; St. Paul, a zealot and persecutor of the early church; The Prodigal Son, the selfish squanderer; and All Souls, in need of God's mercy.)

This slightly reorganized information above is from the "The windows of St. Mary Magdalen" brochure which can be downloaded at http://stmmagdalen.org/wp-content/uploads/SMM-window-booklet-4-2012.pdf

A newspaper article about the artist and some photographs can be found at http://www.mlive.com/living/grand-rapids/index.ssf/2010/04/church_member_designs_new_stai.html


(The image of Matt Talbot praying appears in the December 22, 2010 post at http://venerablematttalbotresourcecenter.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-stained-glass-image-of-matt-talbot.html)

UPDATE:  On July 1, 2012, a destructive fire destroyed most of St. Magdalene Catholic Church in Kentwood, Michigan, which housed “The Shine of the Penitent.”

Of the nine stained glass exit images created by Maria Orr (http://www.mlive.com/living/grand-rapids/index.ssf/2010/04/church_member_designs_new_stai.html), five were totally destroyed while four survived with repairable smoke damage, including that of Venerable Matt Talbot.

While the church will be rebuilt, the status of the stained glass images is uncertain at this time. The pastor’s column can be found at http://stmmagdalen.org/wp-content/uploads/0708045.pdf and contributions may be made at http://stmmagdalen.org/resurrection-fund/

"The importance of examples like Matt Talbot"

In his book titled, The Heart of Catholic Spirituality: Finding a Voice through the Centuries (Paulist Press, 2003), theologian Fr. Thomas Lane, C.M. notes the importance of examples like Matt Talbot who changed their ways and have journeyed back into the heart of God.

See pages 91-92 at

http://books.google.com/books?id=jc39S6MbmLwC&pg=PA92&lpg=PA92&dq=matt+talbot+thomas+lane&source=web&ots=lAaIEWXoQ0&sig=DvLmUJEQleIUqTysWADbWxWTMho&hl=en#PPA91,M1

More contents of this book can be read at

http://books.google.com/books?id=jc39S6MbmLwC&dq=matt+talbot+thomas+lane&source=gbs_summary_s&cad=0

Introduction to Celtic Christianity *

by Caedmon Greene

Celtic Christianity was that form of the Christianity held by much of the population of the British Isles from about the end of the fourth century, until some time after the year 1171. Like any church it varied in form, from place to place, and time to time. However there is a constant stream that runs through that identified it as an unique entity. The classic period of Celtic Christianity ran from the fifth through the ninth centuries, in the "traditional" Celtic Lands (Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and Brittany) on the continent (France, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, and Germany) and beyond (Iceland, the Farroes, and other North Atlantic islands perhaps in Russia and North America).

Celtic Christianity was characterized by extreme holiness, a love of God and man, wanderlust and the need to bring the light of Christ to the world. Also, many of the issues that the Celtic Christians dealt with are amazingly contemporary, things like the position of women in the Church, nature and our environmental surroundings, and dealing with others of different customs and beliefs (both pagan and Christian). Much of its attraction comes from how it dealt with these problems, taking the best from older traditions while still standing firm in the truth.

Tradition holds that the faith was brought to the British Isles by Joseph of Arimathea and Aristobulus in A.D. 55 (some argue it was as early as A.D. 35) Modern scholarship rejects this, and places the introduction in the middle of the second century. Little is known of the first several centuries, however, Christianity was firmly established in Roman Britain by the time of the council of Arles (314) as two British bishops were in attendance. (There is also a possibility that British bishops were at Nicaea).

The true flowering of Celtic Christianity occurred after the Romans left Britain and they found themselves alone, surrounded by hostile barbarians. This is the time of the great celtic Saints: Patrick, David, Brigid, Columba, Brendan, Columbanus, and many, many others. This period was characterized by great holiness, love of learning and nature. It reached it's peak in the seventh century in the Columban monastic federation of Iona. Its decline began soon after when, in 671, it lost Saxon Northumbria to the Roman observance.

This was by no means the end. Celtic Christianity survived for the next five centuries. Due to many forces, demographic changes, Viking raids and settlement, and the expanding Roman rite; Celtic Christianity slowly retreated. Yet this the period when the Celts reached the pinnacle of their artistic genius; combining mediteranean plaitwork, barbarian zoomorphs, and their own native spiral and key patterns to create metalwork, illuminated manuscripts and stonecarving that amazes us even today. (Some examples include the Kells and Lindisfarne Gospels, the Ardagh Chalice, the Tara brooche and the Linsmore Croizer.)

Throughout the twelfth century, changes were pushed on the Irish system by eccesiastical reformers like Sts Malachi and Lawrence O'Toole. Finally in 1172, after the Anglo-Norman invasion, the Synod of Cashel ended the Celtic system. Even so, Celtic Christianity continued as an undercurrent in Celtic life. For the next four centuries the Culdees, monks of the Celtic tradition, retained some of the old ways as a minority rite. The last documented trace of them was in Armagh in 1628. Even into this century folk piety of the Scottish highlands and islands were strengthened by their Celtic Christian roots.

Source: The Celtic Christian List FAQ

An Introduction to Celtic Spirituality
by Diarmuid O'Laoghaire

We speak of the spirituality of the six Celtic lands before the coming of the Normans (or Anglo-Normans, as in the case of Ireland, who arrived there in 1169), namely, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, Brittany and the Isle of Man. Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man could be regarded as a unit, but we have very little knowledge of the Isle of Man. The other three Brythonic lands can likewise be regarded as a unit within the whole Celtic complex. Of all the countries Ireland is by far the best documented in itself and in its relations with Irish foundations in Scotland and Northumbria. However, in terms of spirituality, most of what we say of Ireland can be applied to all the other Celts. A symbol of that unity could be the Penitentials,¹ where we have gathered matter from Ireland, Wales and Brittany. Sometimes, of course, that might mean just copying in Brittany of Irish matter, but that fact alone shows the unity, and in what deeply concerns the progress of the soul.

Ireland, unlike Britain, was never subject to Rome or Roman law. Her first full contact with Rome, then, was through the Christian faith. Saint Patrick, a Roman Briton, is the only known apostle of Ireland,² although it seems he laboured mostly in the northern half of the country. There were Christians in Ireland before he came, but what evangelizers there were left us nothing in writing, whereas we have two authentic and most precious documents from the fifth-century Patrick. It is doubt ful if any evangelizer left such a lasting imprint on his spiritual children as did Patrick. As we will see, some of his outstanding traits were reproduced in the Irish. So, he speaks many times of being an exile till death for Christian Ireland; his writings abound with quotations and echoes from Scripture, notably from St Paul; in his Confession he speaks of his constantly repeated prayer out in the open, day and night, no matter how harsh the weather, when a slave in Ireland (Conf. 16).

It is a remarkable fact that in less than a hundred years after Patrick the Church in Ireland was not diocesan but monastic, and although obviously not lacking bishops, was governed by abbots of important monasteries — who might also be bishops. So it was also in other Celtic lands, with some variations where Roman influence was greater. Saint Patrick himself tells us how astonished he was at the numbers of the newly-baptized who chose to be monks and virgins of Christ. Presumably unorganized, they were the predecessors of thousands such in monasteries and convents throughout the land.

In these monasteries, prayer, study and manual labour were cultivated with great diligence; and study, above all, meant study of the Scriptures. The psalms were held in the greatest veneration and it is a commonplace in the lives of the saints to read that young children were sent to read their psalms with some holy man. The whole spirituality was deeply scriptural. To this day, we have visible proof of the honour and love lavished on the word of God. In Ireland we have the Book of Kells from the eighth or ninth century, an incomparable shrine of the four Gospels, and the high crosses on which are depicted the history of salvation, all summed up in the cross itself, from Adam and Eve to the death and resurrection of Christ and His second coming. Saint Illtud, the British saint, born perhaps in Brittany, in the fifth century, can be considered typical in his devotion to the Scriptures. We are told of him in the early seventh-century life of that other great saint Samson, who from his native Britain (or Wales) went a pilgrim to Brittany, there to labour with great success. Illtud, we are told, was the most learned of all the Britons in the knowledge of Scripture, both the Old and the New Testaments. Another such was Saint Adamnan from the seventh century, successor of Saint Colm Cille (Columba) as abbot in Iona and his biographer. Of him Bede wrote in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People: "He was a good and wise man with an excellent knowledge of the Scriptures" (V.15). Bede, who so loved the Irish, is an important witness to the place Scripture held in Ireland. He tells us of the holy English priest, Egbert, who "had lived long in exile in Ireland for the sake of Christ and was most learned in the Scriptures..." (III.4), and of Agilbert, a Gaulish bishop, "who had spent a long time in Ireland for the purpose of studying the Scriptures" (III.7). Professor Bernhard Bischoff in our own time is showing us the remarkable extent of Irish scriptural studies on the Continent in the early Middle Ages.³

The height of asceticism among the Celts was considered to be exile and perpetual pilgrimage for the sake of Christ. We have just seen how Bede makes use of the phrase. We have no evidence that the Irish monks knowingly imitated Patrick in this. Their exemplar, as in so many things, came from the Scriptures — Abraham, commanded by God to leave his own land and people for the Promised Land. Exile could be imposed as a penalty under the law for crime, and perhaps the thought of penance for sin entered into this Christian exile, but the motive usually given is positive and personal — for the sake of Christ, for the eternal fatherland, etc. It has often been noted that the motive did not seem to be missionary, but ascetic. However, we note that Saint Aidan, as Bede tells us, came from Iona at King Oswald's request to evangelize Northumbria in the early seventh century. Bede, once again, tells us of Saint Fursa that he came from Ireland to East Anglia

to live the life of a pilgrim for the Lord's sake, whenever opportunity offered. When he came... he... followed his usual task of preaching the gospel. Thus he converted many both by the example of his virtues and the persuasiveness of his teaching, turning unbelievers to Christ and confirming believers in his faith and love (III.18).

Saint Columbanus himself, but in a letter written to his disciples in Luxeuil, when he had been expelled from there, says, "It was in my wish to visit the heathen and have the gospel preached to them" (Walker, Sancti Columbani Opera, pp. 30-1). Since the Irish monks at home were used to ministering to the people it would have come naturally to them to do so abroad, nor could they pretend to be pilgrims for Christ if they were to neglect those in need of Christ. Indeed we have a verse from the Rule attributed to Saint Ailbhe:

Their Father is noble God,
their mother is holy Church;
let it not be mouth-humility,
let everyone have pity on his fellow.

Saint Colm Cille was the first great exile for Christ (his biographer, Adamnan, gives us the motive) and is regarded as the exile par excellence. In the many poems attributed to him there is much nostalgia for his homeland. In the early sixteenth-century Life which contains much from Adamnan and much that is legend we have a passage that we may confidently take as representing the mind and heart of those exiles:

When Colm Cille was going into exile to Scotland, Mochonna, this holy child of whom we have spoken, said that he would go with him. "Don't go," said Colm Cille, "but remain with your father and mother in your own country." "You are my father," said Mochonna, "and the Church is my mother, and the place in which I can give most service to God is my country," said he, "and since it is you, Colm Cille, who have bound me to Christ, I will follow you till you bring me to where He is." And then he took the vow of pilgrimage.⁴

This ascetic desire, and love of God, took the Celts to all kinds of remote isles, even to the Faroes and Iceland, as well as to the nearer offshore islands of Britain, Ireland and Brittany. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for the year 891 or 892 gives a completely typical example of three Irishmen whom it names, who in utter trust in God put to sea without oars and landed in Cornwall. Within their own lands also remote places were sought out. Hence the place-name "Díseart" in Ireland (where there are more than eighty such) and Scotland, and "Dyserth" in Wales for those desert-places. Of course, there were definite places of pilgrimage, notably Jerusalem and Rome. In fact, the Irish word "rómh" or "ruamh" (from "Roma") became a common noun, meaning a holy burying-ground, and therefore a place of pilgrimage, and we are told of soil being brought from the graves of Peter and Paul and other saints to spread in Irish graveyards.

The faith had been planted in Ireland without martyrdom, although Patrick was ready for it and went daily in danger of his life (Conf. 35, 37, 55). However, we find the ideal of martyrdom expressed, in both Latin and Irish texts, in terms of white, blue and red martyrdom. White martyrdom was the daily living of the ascetic life for Christ's sake; red, of course, meant the shedding of blood and death itself for Christ's sake. Blue martyrdom, which seems to have been a particularly Irish development, stood for the way of the penitent in penance, in bewailing of sins and in labour. Clare Stancliffe recently has argued very well that lay penitents could qualify to rank with the martyrs and monks, leaving an open question whether their penitence was lifelong or for a fixed number of years.⁵

The principle contraria contrariis sanantur, contraries are cured by their contraries, popularised by John Cassian, was adopted wholeheartedly, first perhaps by the Welsh, and through them the Irish. In the Penitential of Finnian we have the oft-repeated counsel:

But, by contraries... let us make haste to cure contraries and to cleanse away these faults from our hearts and introduce heavenly virtues in their place; patience must arise for wrathfulness; kindliness, or the love of God and of one's neighbour, for envy; for detraction, restraint of heart and tongue; for dejection, spiritual joy; for greed, liberality.⁶

These Penitentials were for the laity as well, and could be severe enough, and restrictive, for instance in such a thing as marital intercourse. We know that they had a great influence abroad, and if the Irish did not introduce private penance there, at least they greatly extended its use, and after Saint Columbanus it seems to have become the norm. No doubt the practice of anamchairdeas, spiritual direction, literally "soul-friendship", excercised by the anamchara or "soul-friend" — also for lay people — was a great help towards fervour of life and the promotion of private penance and confession. "Colainn gan cheann duine gan anamchara" (a person without a soul-friend is a body without a head) was a very telling and common maxim. Here it is right to note the constant stress on purity of heart. A tonsured head, went an ancient verse, is not pleasing to God unless the heart, too, be tonsured. The Penitentials and the monastic Rules consistently deal with that issue, as we have just seen, for example, in Finnian's words. So Gildas in the Preface on Penance attributed to him tells the repentant cleric to "at all times deplore his guilt from his inmost heart".⁷

The practice of soul-friendship is of a piece with the general attitude towards the spiritual and monastic life. Allowance was always made for the individual. Even in the same monastery and under the same Rule the Holy Spirit must be allowed to lead as He wills. In the Rule of Mochuda we read: "Different is the condition of everyone, different the nature of the place, different the law by which food is diminished or increased".⁸ The austere Columbanus himself stresses that principle. He speaks of the choir office: "Although the length of time standing or singing may be various, yet the identity of prayer in the heart and mental concentration that is unceasing with God's help will be of a single excellence".⁹ We are reminded of the famous ninth-century quatrain, composed perhaps by a disillusioned pilgrim: "Techt do Róim..."

To come to Rome:
much labour, little profit —
the King you seek here
you will not find him unless you bring him with you.

One rightly associates corporal austerity with Celtic spirituality. It is summed up in the rather muddled life of Saint (or Saints) Padarn, where we read that his father came to Ireland there to spend his life in watching and fasting, praying day and night with genuflexions [prostrations]. Bede, in a number of places in his History, speaks with admiration of the ascetic life led by the Irish monks, especially Aidan, in his own Northumbria. In addition to the ordinary season of Lent, the Lent of Jesus, as they called it, the Irish also observed the Lent of Elias in winter and that of Moses after Pentecost. We note again the love of Scripture and of the holy ones of the Old Testament, who were also celebrated liturgically. The body was made to offer its meed of praise to God. The crosfhigheall or cross-vigil, praying with outstretched arms for long periods, was very popular. When we read that a bird came and nested in the outstretched hands of a saint, we may perhaps conclude that such a mystical state was not unknown. As regards genuflexions [prostrations], to which we may add frequent signs of the cross, it was not uncommon to see such in our own time in churches and pilgrimages. Praying the psalms in ice-cold water is mentioned so often that, as Dr Bieler has said, it may well have been an ascetic practice. In all such austerities we find the motive to be the love of God, and we cannot exclude what is called the folly of the cross. The ancient penitential pilgrimage to Loch Dearg with its three-day fast is still very much alive, as well as the pilgrimage to Cruach Phádraig, the mountain of penance traditionally associated, as is Loch Dearg, with St Patrick. In the ancient tradition also were the penitential practices in our day of Father Willie Doyle and the holy layman, Matt Talbot.

We have a large body of prayer, both in Irish and Latin, and mostly in verse. There are quite a number of very heartfelt and prolix prayers of repentance in Latin, as well as prayers in Irish in disciplined verse. There are also litanies to which the Irish were very given. There was no objection to repetitious prayer. A feature of prayer in general is that so much of it is loosely litanic in form. The lorica or breastplate prayer, such as the well-known ninth-century Breastplate of St Patrick, was very popular. The lorica may well have been pagan in origin, as a charm against natural phenomena and evil spirits, but as a Christian prayer it has also the interior and Christian dimension. These prayers convey a sense of completeness, for example, in enumerating the members of the body, external circumstances, all the various groups of the heavenly and earthly Church, represented by the outstanding saints. Everything, external and internal, was to be under the sway of God. Here is one of the loricae, that of St Fursa, the language of which dates from about the ninth century:

May the yoke of the Law of God be upon this shoulder,
the coming of the Holy Spirit on this head,
the sign of Christ on this forehead,
the hearing of the Holy Spirit in these ears,
the smelling of the Holy Spirit in this nose,
the vision that the people of heaven have in these eyes,
the speech of the people of heaven in this mouth,
the work of the Church of God in these hands,
the good of God and of the neighbour in these feet.
May God dwell in this heart
and this person belong entirely to God the Father!

The Last Judgement is prominent in Celtic, and especially (there are more documents) in Irish spirituality, but I think some authors err when they speak of it, and of an avenging God, as being dominent features.¹⁰ The intimate and human side of that spirituality (which are still characteristic of it) must be stressed. About the mid-seventh century arose the reforming movement of the Céili Dé (Servants of God) which sought to revitalise the ancient asceticism. That movement, which fostered the eremetical life, and which might to some extent be called today "puritanical", produced the most beautiful of lyrical and nature poetry and other works of religious art. Many of the lyrics are actually prayers. The purity of vision and language in that poetry is as if their great detachment from created things had helped the poets to share in the Creator's own vision of His creation.

The poems of Blathmac (c. 750)¹¹ in honour of our Lady and her Son show a great tenderness and humanity. The poet asks Mary to come to him that he might lament with her the death of her beautiful Son. He speaks of consoling her heart. The poet tells that when our Lord after His death returned to heaven and "when the household of heaven welcomed their true heart, Mary, your beautiful Son broke into tears in their presence". Not till almost half a millennium later, when the humanity of the suffering Christ came to be stressed, do we come across such tender language in this part of Christendom. In another well-known poem (c. 800) God Himself is addressed as "mu chridecán", my little heart.¹² Again, there is the poem in which St Íde welcomes to her little hermitage "Ísucán", the Infant Jesus (c. 900).¹³ The poem is full of diminutives such as a mother would use with her child, one of the verbs even being in a completely untranslatable diminutive form! (It would be pleasant, if we had space, to recount some of the whimsical stories that show so long before St Francis himself what intimate relations the saints had with the animals.)

So then, although we find many prayers to the Trinity and much stress on the majesty of God (cf. Columbanus, but also note how he speaks of Christ and also what we might term his warm, mystical passages), all that is well balanced by constant reference to the humanity of Christ. He is "Ri" (King), certainly, as is His Father, but in the Irish sense of the term, where the king in each of the hundred or so statelets (tuatha) was one of his people and in their midst, and closely related to not a few of them. In modern traditional prayers "Ri" is still the commonest of terms in addressing Christ or His Father. This aspect of Christ is completed, as it were, in the very corporate (which does not exclude the individual) Christianity of the old Irish. In particular, I suppose the institution of the tuath, with the great stress on kindred, was a help towards realizing the Church as the Body of Christ (Christ himself has always been referred to as "Mac Mhuire", the Son of Mary, or anciently in Welsh also, "Mab Mair"). Very significant is the word muintir, meaning "family" and derived from the Latin monasterium. The monastery fitted splendidly into the close-knit native society. The derived adjective, muinteartha, means "friendly, intimate, affectionate" — "familiar" (in the radical and best sense). Hence, when it came to hospitality and almsgiving, not to mention other ways of doing "the good of God and the neighbour", it is not surprising to see the famous passage in Matthew 25 so often repeated.

Endnotes

1. Cf. Bieler, The Irish Penitentials.

2. There was Palladius, of course, but all we know of him is that he was sent "to the Irish who believed in Christ" (Prosper of Aquitaine).

3. Cf. "Turning Points in the history of Latin exegesis in the Early Middle Ages."

4. O'Kelleher-Schoepperle, Betha Colaim Chille, p. 136.

5. Stancliffe, C., "Red, white and blue martyrdom," in Ireland in Early Mediaeval Europe. Studies in memory of Kathleen Hughes, ed. David Dumville (CUP, 1982), pp. 21-46. Also relevant is Pádraig P. Ó Néill, "Background to the Cambrai Homily," in Ériu (Dublin, 1981), pp. 137-148.

6. Bieler, op. cit., p. 85.

7. Ib., p. 61.

8. Quoted in Hughes, The Church in Early Irish Society, p. 183.

9. Walker, op. cit., pp. 132-3.

10. E.g. Godel, op. cit.

11. Ed. Carney.

12. Murphy, Early Irish Lyrics, pp. 112-13.

13. Ib., pp. 26-7.

This article appears as a chapter in The Study of Spirituality, Eds. Cheslyn Jones, Geoffrey Wainwright, and Edward Yarnold. Oxford University Press: 1986.

Source: http://www.connectministries.org/c9/images/83/92/2/29283/10748.doc.

* This article provides some background of historical influences on Matt and practices he adopted. (JB)

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