I Am Said I (Huruma)

In the beginning Gay was happy Before the word Became the name Of the most vulnerable On the earth Hidden Silent Reviled The repressed Oppressed voice Burned like a fire In the bones Until it could No longer be Contained Restrained It cried out EQUALITY And gained it ii And having come To this Will you not now Hear another Silenced voice? The one to whom EQUALITY Of life May be denied Will you not now Stand up and shout For them? Or is EQUALITY Just for those Who can shout The loudest And not for those Who cannot shout At all?

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I am A fish filleted Once Too often Gutted Boneless Meat Bound Tied up For roasting The consummation I have prayed for Too easily Romanticized Be careful What you pray for

Second Sunday of Advent On my way back from giving a retreat one winter's day, I stood in Maam Valley admiring the mountains, pondering the words of the Prophet Isaiah -  Let every valley be filled in,  every mountain and hill be laid low. (Isaiah 40) - and I thought, what a sad prophecy. It didn't make sense to me to think of such majesty being lowered, filled in; majesty that speaks so clearly of the Beauty and Majesty of God. Then I understood that the levelling and the filling in are about making it easier for God and His people to meet. The simplyfying of religion, making it less complicated.  It is done by  making a straight highway for our God  - preceding verse from Isaiah 40. Among recent developments that I love most in Ireland  are the motorways that make travel quicker, easier and less stressful - the M6 to Galway in particular. Some complain that it has made travel boring but not for me! I have found in it a symbol and a parale...

A bitter bracing day  Is what I need To snap me out Of apathy A perfect Winter’s day Bright sunshine and cold Beautiful colours of evening  Birds singing like Springtime  Going inside to solitude The cell of my heart With a thirst and a hunger To attend to There’s a tightening about me Hopeless of change But  a memory  Of old blessedness stirs To give hope to the waiting I trust it has a reason.

I had gone through a very difficult meeting and, feeling bruised and sorry, I sat in the back garden in Belgrano letting the sun warm me. Tommy, who was about three years old, stood watching from a distance and when he felt it was safe he approached and started chatting. I have no Spanish and he no English, so it was a childlike conversation that drew me out of myself. He opened his little book to show me a picture of the Annunciation and I wished its joy would happen for me then. But it did not and I was not up to it. Later in the evening I was praying the sorrowful mysteries when the Angelus bell rang and it struck me that I was experiencing a collision of sorrow with joy - that the joy of Annunciation was trying to break into my sorrow. And I chose to accept this strange mingling. It has happened many times since that, while praying the sorrowful mysteries, the Angelus bell rang. The Angel of the Lord is always declaring the Good News and we are asked to receive it. ...

A Guided Meditation by Eamonn Monson sac Click On The Image To Download And Listen

I came across a painting the other day by Fray Juan Bautista Maino called The Adoration of the Shepherds and a detail shows one of the shepherds (though it might be St. Joseph) lifting the right hand of the baby Jesus and kissing it. It strikes me that this is the purpose of our Advent and Christmas - to arrive at a point where Jesus is born for us again, born within us and we are called to come to Jesus and express our love for him in such a gesture. John the Baptist goes into the desert for clarity and focus. The desert is a place of simplicity where we have nothing but the essentials to deal with and focus on. With this focus on the essentials John is able to recognise Jesus when he appears. Yesterday I celebrated a Christmas Mass with a group of special needs adults from St. John Of God Carmona services, an experience whch brought me face to face with the essential meaning of life in all its simplicity. When I arrived in the hall I went to greet each person - 30 ...

Back in the early 80’s while still a young priest and going through a bout of depression, a friend sent me an article that he found in The Furrow. It was written by a religious sister who had also experienced depression and she trying to find meaning for her experience in relation to God. She wrote something like, “perhaps my gloom is the shadow of His hand caressing me!” That made sense to me. When we are in darkness on a spiritual, emotional or mental level it can seem that God is absent when, in fact, He is very near, so near that His presence creates shadow or a sense of darkness. Henry Vaughan wrote in ‘The Night’, “there is in God, some say, a deep but dazzling darkness.” The dramatic experience of the light of Jesus on the road to Damascus left Paul in the dark of blindness for a few days. Moses, in Exodus, “entered into the thick darkness where God was” and in the darkness He met God face to face. Moses encountered the radiance of God in that cloud and emerged from...

First Sunday of Advent In the early 1980's the famous Benedictine monk John Main came to Tanzania to give a retreat and teach his Maranatha method of meditation. It's a simple method of sitting still for 20 minutes morning and evening, repeating the Word 'Maranatha' over and over in silence. The word is referred to as a mantra. Maranatha is the great prayer of Advent and it means 'Come Lord Jesus', expressing the profound yearning for God that is in the heart of every person. It is the Advent prayer of the whole Church.  The retreat was attended by the Medical Missionaries of Mary and some Pallottines and it's safe to say that the sisters were more enthusiastic about it than the priests. One day some time after the retreat one of the sisters was on her way to Arusha and she stopped for a break in a Pallottine Mission house where she asked the priest, "how is your mantra going?" "Well sister" he replied, "it...

When I was a little boy I had a beautiful shiny red sports car that I loved and played with until it got broken. It's what happens with toys but I was extremely saddened and my Mam said that maybe Santy would be able to fix it. So I left it on the windowsill when I was going to bed one night and in the morning it was gone. And it remained gone. Presumably Santy came and took it. Christmas night came and I was in bed, unable to sleep with excitement but I kept my face my face turned to the wall in case Santy would disappear if I looked at him. I was also freezing cold because the blankets had fallen off the bed but I didn't dare move to get them. The window opened. That's how he got in. I heard him in the room and was so pleased when he picked the bedclothes off the floor to cover me. That felt really special and comfortable. He was gone then. Silence. And Mam came in to tell us we could get  up. Our presents were in brown paper bags and to my astonishment  ...

Everything that was written long ago in the scriptures was meant to teach us something about hope (Romans 15:4) Hope is central to the season of Advent, one of the most important gifts brought to us by Jesus. In a negative, pessimistic age we need Hope. The above line from Romans is one that struck a chord with me when I first starting reading the Bible at the age of 17. It is a Word that has always stirred hope in me. A couple of years ago the image of the wolf came into my prayer. The wolf scratching at the door. A hungry ravenous wolf! Wolf in sheep's clothing. And I came upon this poem by Charlotte Perkins Gildman - 'The Wolf At The Door'. It appeared in 'The Cry for Justice: An Anthology of the Literature of Social Protest' (1915) and the editor, Upton Sinclair,  describes her as America's most brilliant woman poet and critic. THERE’S a haunting horror near us   That nothing drives away; Fierce lamping eyes at nightfall,   A crouchin...

Go back to the child That understood the truth Folded into the shape Of its mother’s arms Draped across Its father’s shoulder Before the rigidity Of independence Set in The weaned child Whose hand explores The empty space Touching the face As yet unseen That comes to meet Its need

"For, over all, the glory of the Lord will be a canopy and a tent to give shade from the heat, refuge and shelter from the storm and the rain." (Isaiah 4:6) A canopy and a tent. In the summer times my mother would wash the bed sheets and spread them out over the long grass in the big back garden. And we would crawl under the sheets, thinking of them as tents, white tents of the desert lit up by the summer sun. I was always looking out for shelters, secret places of refuge and, in my adult spiritual life I have been drawn to the tents of the Old Testament. The Tent of Meeting where Moses met with God; the tent of Abraham where God appeared in the guise of three angelic strangers. We used to go to the grotto in Castlegar at home during the month of May across the rocky fields that might have been a quarry and there we imagined and lived all sorts of adventures in palaces and boats. And we found there places to shelter. I found one that I was particularly plea...

Down to the edge Of the island The end of power Where Elements Alone remain Salt sea water Washing my face My sinners soul Transformed by grace Mother of  Mercy Is present here Speaking of surrender To the Spirit Here is the wind The waves The crashing And the upward surge Of everything

60 YEARS OF ROSALEEN Click on the link below to view the slideshow https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B2BxqHcSmGbMSExpamMwd2M2N0k

In him There is no Sound of weeping The widower's Voice is silent His eyes dry Racing His mind is Racing The restrained Excitement  It is to his Advantage That Love has no more Claim on him The pretense of it Infidelity now Is neutralized

A seat in the back row A stream by the wayside This is Your gift to me A place at Your right side In the sanctuary In a season of grief The hidden priesthood Eternal womb Begotten before the dawn Out of the sight Of the interested and curious Shielded from the burning November sun Dazzling light Through the chapel Window blazing I am inclined Towards You Leaning Head bowed Drinking deeply With delight The waters of Life You lift up my head Your face smiling Upon my unworthiness

Jesus Divine Mercy, from the depths of our hearts we ask you please to heal us and our loved ones of our addiction. Transform craving into a desire for the fullness of life; despair into hope;  shame into honour and self-respect; guilt into mercy and self-forgiveness. Heal our memory of hurt, help us to let go of the past and look forward with confidence one step at a time. Lift us up and hold us close to your Heart in Peace and tender Love, that Love that overcomes all. May the light of our candle be warmth in the cold, light in the darkness and the sign of a new dawn. We make this prayer in faith, for nothing is impossible for You. Amen. St. Maximilian Kolbe pray for us St. Padre Alberto Hurtado pray for us Venerable Matt Talbot pray for us ( Eamonn Monson SAC) Jesus I Trust In You

I am keeper of the field The wholesome wheat And weed Strange bedfellows That must await The harvest And its consequence In its own time And not before However intent I may be  On perfection I hope not For a mansion In heaven Enough for me A humble hut Inside the gate Where Justice Divine With Mercy meets My misery Magnificat be the song That's borne And sung into Infinity