Category: abbeynews

It is with deep sadness that the monastic community announces the death of Fr Placid Murray OSB, at the age of 104.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis.

Abbot Brendan Coffey OSB

For most of us, Jericho is synonymous with the collapse of its famous walls – with trumpet blast and a great shout the walls came crashing down. But did you know that Jericho is very possibly the oldest city on earth? It is certainly the lowest city on earth, 846ft below sea level. Zacchaeus lived in this city of Jericho and this is the scene for our Gospel.

Before Jesus headed up to Jerusalem, 2,474ft above sea level, he turned towards the lowest place on earth, Jericho, and it was there, in the depths, that he found our friend Zacchaeus. He literally descended as far as it is possible to descend on earth to find him. As our First Reading from the Book of Wisdom tells us, “you are merciful to all, for you can do all things, and you overlook people’s sins, so that they may repent… you correct little by little those who trespass, and you remind and warn them of the things through which they sin, so that they may be freed from wickedness and put their trust in you, O Lord.”

Jericho was known as the ‘city of the palms’, because of the abundance of palm trees in the region and yet Zacchaeus ended up climbing a sycamore tree. This should not be confused with our European sycamore trees. Zacchaeus’ tree is a species of fig, a sycamore fig. Adam and Eve used the leaves of the fig tree to clothe their shame after the fall. Zacchaeus is clothed in this sycamore fig as he tries to catch a glimpse of Jesus. The sight is rather comical; this highly respected chief tax collector, somewhat vertically challenged, runs ahead of the crowd and gets himself, somehow, up into a sycamore fig from where he can see Jesus as he passes. He must have looked pretty ridiculous.

Zacchaeus was a local celebrity, he was rich, important, the chief tax collector no less. He was, we can assume, none too popular with his neighbours as a result. Then the unthinkable happens, Jesus speaks directly to Zacchaeus. He even calls him by name. Down he comes, probably with a thump, and the Gospel tells us that Zacchaeus was happy to welcome Jesus into his house. This is his salvation, the supreme moment in his life and everything changes.

From this, the lowest place on earth, Zacchaeus is raised up. But his neighbours are not one bit happy – they grumble. Perhaps they are jealous. Why is Jesus wasting his time with Zacchaeus of all people? However, that day Zacchaeus stood tall, perhaps for the very first time in his life, and the walls of Jericho fell a second time. He promises to make restitution for any wrong he has done and more, four times more! This is real conversion, not just words, actions as well.

Where is my Jericho? What lurks in the lowest part of my life? Where is my sycamore fig, the tree of shame, so I can climb it and be recognised by the Lord, called by name, my name! How do I bring down the walls of Jericho that surround my heart and mind? Opening my heart to conversion, generosity, restitution and right living. Opening my mind to understanding, justice, and right judgment. Seeing the world as it really is. Standing tall and speaking the truth in love.

Zacchaeus has a lot to teach us about real conversion, about courage, about standing up and speaking out at the right time. What would Zacchaeus say today if he lived in our world with its injustices, wars and brokenness? His words should be on my lips if I am to convert as he did, be happy to welcome the Lord into my house and bring crashing down the walls of Jericho.

Our Autumn 2022 Chronicle contains the fascinating history of an almost century-old pectoral cross, an award from the government of Poland, tales from the holy city of Jerusalem, and much more. Read it here…

Words of Light and Power is a retreat for Young Adults takes place on Saturday 22nd October from 10-5pm.

Participants will discover ways of meditating on the word of God through reading, chant, art, and the prayer of the rosary.

Talks include:

+ ‘Opening the Bible’ – Columba McCann
+ ‘Hearing the Word through Chant’ – Senan Furlong
+ ‘Seeing the Word through Monastic Art’ – Luke Macnamara
+ ‘Meditating with Mary’ – Jarek Kurek

Suggested donation €30, with refreshments and lunch provided.

To book please contact 061 621005 or luke@glenstal.com

Fr William Fennelly OSB

In the readings today we are given some understanding of how our requests to God relate to time, our time and God’s time. In both the reading from Exodus and the Gospel passage from Luke we encounter urgent need. In the first reading the urgency is more obvious, for if there is not a speedy sorting out of the issues, then there’s going to be a defeat. Amalek has come to wage war against Israel, and Israel must defend itself then and there. To wait would simply allow them to be slaughtered. There’s also urgency in the widow’s plea for a just decision against her adversary. She does not seem to be able or willing to wait for the judge to take action in his time. She wants resolution now does all she can to get it.

But if they want resolution now, then both Moses and the widow cannot be passive onlookers. They have to be willing to play their part. Our actions, what we actually choose to do, show something of what our desires really are. If we want something badly enough we usually can muster up the necessary energy. In Moses’ case, he’s too exhausted to keep his hands up, so he uses not only his body, but also his intelligence by getting Aaron and Hur to support his hands when he is no longer able to keep them up. The widow, it would seem, also uses both body and mind. She figures out that her persistence will eventually get the better of the judge. And she is right.

When we ask God for things in prayer, we need to be involved, our bodies, our minds, our all. To ask God for something we desperately need makes clear that to do so in a lazy fashion risks treating God as a mere solver our problems, and so not letting Him be just Him. It may also show that our need is not really as great as we think it is. When we ask God for help, even though we put our needs in God’s hands, we show by our perseverance that we are truly engaged, our praying to God means above all not giving up, our active trust in God.

Yet in today’s readings there is another perspective on the relationship between our asking God for things and time, even if it is less obvious. As well as the perspective of our needs right now, there is the perspective, that is, seen from the perspective of eternity. We may think of this perspective, as how time is seen from God’s viewpoint. From the perspective of eternity all of our cares and concerns are seen in a much wider context.

We are reminded of this perspective in this Sunday’s Gospel where Christ speaks of final judgement, to judge the living and the dead, as we heard in the second reading. It is interesting that it’s after he speaks of the persistent widow that Christ then moves on to speak of the coming of the Son of Man, the great event of the end times, the establishment of an everlasting kingdom where the rule of God orders all things.

The widow comes across a bit like Mrs Doyle in the Fr Ted comedy badgering character to have a cup of tea, go on, go on, go on she repeats, go on give me me justice. Jesus tells this story, he says, so that we can pray continually and not lose heart. To pray is to raise the heart and the mind to God, that is to raise the heart and mind to our ultimate concern, our origin and our destiny. This is wearying because the daily round my wants and my disappointments is so much easier to
care about than who I am and where I am going. Is it any wonder we fall back in dismay. To have a goal oriented future vision of our destiny is to have an understanding of who we are, as not being fixed, but rather our true selves are in the act of becoming; becoming different, becoming better, becoming more than what we are right now. The stakes are as high as possible and this is what gives us the urgency of todays’ readings. To enter into this perspective, is not to ignore the issues that face us right now, but to see them in a new light. If we fail
in this, we should not be too hard on ourselves. The scriptures show us that the Lord never abandons us, not even in our greatest moments of doubt. To enter into the perspective of eternity is an invitation to enter into a deeper relationship with the God who ‘stepped out’ from eternity into the vulnerability of time and space in Jesus Christ. It is also to situate our problems into a bigger picture, a bigger picture that can be a great source of consolation, especially when our problems seem to be getting the upper hand. The perspective of eternity reminds us that these difficulties will not have the last word, that our lives are infinitely precious and that God is Lord of all of who we are and no part of us lies beyond his concern.

Fr Luke Macnamara OSB

Life throws many challenges at us. Whoever we are, and no matter how
nurturing and protective our parents might be, there will always be times when things don’t go according to plan. Growing up is not always easy.

The ten men probably had a bright future. Leprosy forced them to live apart and crushed their dreams. They hear about Jesus and hope that somehow he might be able to help. Keeping their distance, they cry out to him from afar, “Master, have mercy on us”. These are the very words we sung in Greek at the beginning of Mass, “Lord have mercy” and at the Lamb of God we will sing them again in Latin, “have mercy on us”. We too may have problems in our lives separating us from God, from parents, from families, and from making friends. We, like the ten in the Gospel cry out to the Lord: “Have mercy on us”.

By this, we invite the Lord to heal us. Calling for mercy is only one part of the dynamic of making us whole. Jesus sends the ten away to show themselves to the priests. The ten obey and as they went away they became free of their leprosy. Nine are delighted that all is well
and go on living their lives with their original hopes and dreams. One of the group, a Samaritan, recognises that he is healed and turns back giving praise to God for his healing and falling at Jesus’ feet gives him thanks. Again, the actions of this man will point to our actions at this Mass. The man returns to Jesus. This word “return” is the verb of repentance in the Old Testament. The prophets ask that the people return to the Lord their God. This is what the healed man has done. This is what we do at this Mass. We with all our failings call upon the Lord for mercy and once healed take up his invitation to return to
his loving embrace.

We asked and will ask for mercy. We praised God in the singing of the
Gloria (Glory to God in the Highest) and we will give him thanks in our offering of the Eucharist at the altar. Let us not be like the nine healed men who went on with their lives once all was well again. Let us not be satisfied with what the world deems success: wealth, prestige, great learning, beauty, fitness, etc. and miss out on a living relationship with God. Let us return to worship God through, with, and in Jesus at this altar and so share in the new life he offers.

Jesus gave a similar command to the ten and to the Samaritan – go on your way. For the ten this going led only to healing and living life as normal. For the Samaritan this second going in faith led to salvation. At the end of this Mass you will be sent on your way – go in peace. Do so in faith that you may live the full life that Jesus offers, one of Christian joy.