'Jesus, mercy; Mary, help.' Sunday Reflections, 1st Sunday of Lent, Year A

The Tempation of Christ, Juan de Flandes [Web Gallery of Art]

Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)

Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)

Gospel Matthew 4:1-11 (New Revised  Standard Version, Anglicised Catholic Edition) 

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ But he answered, ‘It is written,

“One does not live by bread alone,
    but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”’

Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,

“He will command his angels concerning you”,
    and “On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.”’

Jesus said to him, ‘Again it is written, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”’

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour; and he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Away with you, Satan! for it is written,

“Worship the Lord your God,
    and serve only him.”’

Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

Matt Talbot statue, Dublin [Wikipedia]

I remember vividly a homily given on the First Sunday in Lent in St Columban's College, Dalgan Park, the Columban seminary in Ireland where I studied from 1961 to 1968, by the late Fr Edward McCormack, who taught us Latin. We all recognised Father Ted, as we called him, as a saintly man. It was clear from his preaching that he was experiencing something of the horror of the very idea of the Devil tempting Jesus, God who became man. It was as if the very soul of Father Ted was shuddering.

Matt Talbot was a Dubliner who had become an alcoholic by the age of 13 or 14 and spent the next fourteen years as a drunkard. He went to the extreme once of stealing a fiddle (violin) from a beggar and pawned it to get money for drink. It was his only living, Matt tells us in the video, and I think that was the worst thing I ever did in my life. Matt made many efforts later to trace the beggar but never succeeded.

Yet during his fourteen years of drinking Matt hardly ever missed Sunday Mass, though he didn't receive Holy Communion, and always said a Hail Mary before sleeping. I think that's what saved me in the long run, he tells us.

At the beginning of the second video Matt, masterfully played by Irish actor Seamus Forde, goes through a soul-wrenching temptation right at Communion time, something that happens the same Sunday morning at Mass in three different churches, a temptation that drives him out of each, until he falls on his knees outside one of them and prays Jesus, mercy; Mary help, a prayer that most Dubliners would have been familiar with. Perhaps Jesus had called Matt to share in the experience of his three temptations in the desert.

Matt Talbot towards the end of his life [Wikipedia]

The second video shows Matt sending a donation to the Maynooth Mission to China, as the Columbans were first known in Ireland, some time in the mid-1920s. The note he enclosed is in the Columban archives in Ireland. [A Columban priest told me recently that the original is now in Rome, with a copy in Ireland.] The amount, one pound from himself and ten shillings (half of a pound) from his sister, was considerable for poor people.

Towards the end of the video Matt speaks of the things God had asked him to do. He put these thoughts in my mind when I was praying - and I knew they came from him. Only the priest in confession knew about these special things, small things God wanted me to do. They weren't for anybody else.

Among the special things, small things were the chains he wore on certain occasions. It was these very chains, found on his body when he died, that led to people asking questions about me . . . God must have wanted it that way . . . using me to say something to people today, now.

Lent is a gift that God gives the Church each year, a personal gift to each member of the Church, a time when he wants to put these thoughts in my mind when I am praying.

Matt Talbot was the farthest thing imaginable from the 'celebrities' of today during his life. In the more than 90 years since his death he has given hope to many, especially persons struggling with alcoholism and other addictions. 

Will I allow God this Lent to put whatever thoughts he wants to in my mind by giving him time in prayer? Will I allow him, as Mary did when she said Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word, to use me to say something to people today, now?

Will I fall on my knees in moments of great temptation, as Matt did during the terrible struggle he had right at Communion time three times on the one Sunday morning, perhaps reflecting the three temptations of the Lord in today's gospel, and plead Jesus, mercy, Mary help?

They thought I was missing the good things in life. But God gave me the best part - and he never took it away.

St Francis Xavier Church, Gardiner St, Dublin [Wikipedia]

Dubliners refer to churches by their street names rather than by their patronal names. The church above, which Matt calls 'Gardiner Street church', is that of the Jesuits. Matt also refers a number of times to the 'chapel' in Seville Place, the Church of St Laurence O'Toole, once Archbishop of Dublin. This is another old Dublin usage, calling a church a 'chapel'. The accent and idioms of Matt in the two videos are pure Dublin. 

When I was a child my mother, when 'going into town', ie into the city centre, would sometimes go through Granby Lane and we'd pray at the spot where Matt died. Everyone in Dublin then knew who Matt Talbot was. I'm not so sure about today.

You can discover more about this wonderful man at the Dublin Diocesan Matt Talbot website and by googling, especially on YouTube.

The Annunciation, El Greco [Web Gallery of Art]

Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word (Luke 1:38).

Homeless persons in 21st century Australia and 4th century Turkey

Perry Keyes is a singer-songwriter from Sydney, Australia. St Gregory of Nyssa lived in the fourth century AD in Cappadocia, Turkey. Tradition Day By Day is a compilation of short daily readings from the Church Fathers by the late Fr John E. Rotelle OSA and published by Augustinian Press in 1994. It used to be online.

I had never heard of Perry Keyes until today and went looking for a video to go with the reading below, that of today in Tradition Day By Day. I remembered a video about a shelter for homeless people named after the Venerable Matt Talbot. I came across the video above. Here are Perry Keyes's own notes on it. 

Since just before the last world war this [Matthew Talbot Hostel] has been a shelter for homeless men in Sydney. It provides over a quarter of a million meals a year and it's beds are used almost 37,000 times a year. One night, after finishing a taxi shift - I sometimes drive a cab -, a couple of drivers were talking about a homeless man that was found outside the major cinema complex on Sydney's main street. He'd lain there, dead, for almost 12 hours before anyone noticed.


The hostel is named after the Venerable Matt Talbot. In his native Ireland he is never referred to as 'Matthew', his baptismal name, but as 'Matt', just as his younger Dublin contemporary Francis Michael Duff, founder of the Legion of Mary, and a Servant of God, is universally known as 'Frank'.

St Gregory of Nyssa could be writing about Sydney, Manila, Dublin, New York City today, the world that Perry Keyes knows and sings about.

Plenty of strangers wander the roads, and everywhere we see their outstretched hands begging for help. Their home is the open air; they shelter in porticos, streets, and deserted corners of the marketplace, lurking in nooks and crannies like owls, and clothed in tattered rags. Their food is whatever they may get from a passerby, and they drink from the fountains with animals, using the hollow of their hands as a cup. Their storeroom is their pockets if these are not too torn to hold anything. For a table they use their knees pressed together; their bed is the pavement, and to bathe they have simply a river or pool which God gives for the use of everyone. Such is the rough, wandering path they follow, not because their life was like that from the start, but because misfortune has driven them to it.

You can help them through your fasting. Be generous to your brothers and sisters who are in trouble, giving to the hungry what you deny yourself, and making a fair distribution in the fear of God.

'Give Up Yer Aul Sins.' Sunday Reflections for 1st Sunday of Lent Year B

The Temptation of Christ, Tintoretto, painted 1579-81

Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)

Gospel Mark 1:12-15 (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts, and the angels looked after him.

After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. 'The time has come' he said 'and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.'

An Soiscéal Marcas 1:12-15 (Gaeilge, Irish)

Chuir an Spiorad Íosa amach faoin bhfásach é agus bhí sé daichead lá san fhásach á phromhadh ag Sátan. Agus bhí sé in éineacht leis na beithígh allta; agus bhí na haingil ag freastal air. Tar éis Eoin a bheith tugtha ar láimh, tháinig Íosa go dtí an Ghailíl ag fógairt soiscéal Dé agus ag rá: “Tá an tréimhse caite agus tá ríocht Dé in achmaireacht. Déanaigí aithrí agus creidigí sa soiscéal.”

+++

Back in the 1960s Peig Cunningham, from County Donegal in the north-west of Ireland, was teaching in a primary school right in the heart of Dublin, in an area where there was still great poverty, the place where the Venerable Matt Talbot lived most of his years. She recorded the children telling in their own words some of the Bible stories she had taught them.


The tapes were found some years after the death of Miss Cunningham and issued as a CD and tape, with Fr Brian Darcy CP doing much of the work. Later Brown Bag Productions made a series of videos using the recordings.


The language of the child telling the story of St John the Baptist is a Dublin dialect of English. The accent and the terms used may take some adjusting to. But the message that the young girl repeats a number of times, Give up yer aul sins (‘Give up your old sins’) – the title given to the CD and tape – is very clear and is precisely the message of Jesus in today’s gospel: Repent and believe the Good News.


St Mark puts the preaching of Jesus in the context of the arrest of St John the Baptist. Jesus echoes the preaching of St John in Mark 1: 4: and so it was that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.


Below is a video on Matt Talbot (1856-1925) who lived only two or three minutes’ walk from the school where ‘Give Up Yer Aul Sins’ originated. He never attended that school, as far as I know, and his academic career in my own nearby alma mater, O’Connell Schools, was extremely short, since he was what is known in Dublin as a chronic ‘mitcher’ – one playing truant. But, with God’s help, he did manage to ‘give up his aul sins’ – mainly those connected with excessive drinking - and lead a life of extraordinary holiness. One of the most powerful graces from God in his life was regular confession.


May Matt, to whom I pray every day, obtain for each of us the grace to ‘give up our aul sins’, especially through the sacrament of confession.

Matt Talbot (2 May 1856 – 7 June 1925)

To learn more about this holy man who 'gave up his aul sins' read Mary Gaffney's article, Matt Talbot - the Workers' Saint.

Beggars and drunks in Dublin: some things never change

St Mary's Pro-Cathedral, completed in 1825



Today's Irish Times carries a story, Fewer than one in five attend Sunday Mass in Dublin, which reports the words of Archbishop Diarmaid Martin of Dublin at the ordination yesterday of seven deacons. “Many young people, despite years of religious education, have only marginal interest in the message of Jesus. Many who come to us today possess only a sort of cultural Catholicism which can easily deceive us about the depth of people’s faith,” said the archbishop. “Faith in Jesus Christ and in his church is not a free-for-all of opinions in which anything goes. Faith in Jesus has content and context. It is about knowing Jesus intimately.

The archbishop said the years ahead must be ones of renewal for the Irish church and he urged the seven deacons to play a critical role in that renewal. “I encourage you to reach out to the coming generations, presenting them in unambiguous terms the teaching of Jesus and challenging them not to be afraid to let the message of Jesus change their hearts,” he said.

Christ Church Cathedral, originally Catholic now Anglican

Recently Archbishop Martin said that in some areas as few as two percent attend Sunday Mass. these would be mostly poorer parts of the city.

Up to the 1970s more than 90 percent of the people went to Mass every Sunday. So what is happening now is a huge change.

General Post Office (GPO) in the heart of the city. I was approached by two beggars here the first time I went into the city centre on this visit.

But one thing hasn't changed. The priest is still a target for beggars and drunks in the city centre. I've gone there a number of times during my current brief visit to my native city. I wore my clerical collar each time except today. When I was wearing it beggars made their way to me, all addressing me as 'Father'.  One was a young Irishman talking into his mobile phone and I waved at him while passing on. antoher was a young woman, probably from Romania, who, when I made an excuse and didn't stop said 'But you are a Father!' At one time I might have felt guilty. I did feel a mild pang of guilt but not enough to spoil the lunch with old school friends I was heading for.

The Spire of Dublin in O'Connel St, behind the statue of Jim Larkin, a labour leader in the early part of the last century. The GPO is on the left. The Spire replaced Nelson's Pillar, blown up in 1966.

Last year as I was walking in another part of the city during the day a man in his 30s stopped me. He wasn't a beggar but if I had lit with a match the alcohol he was breathing out half of the city might have been destroyed in the ensuing explosion.

In my time in the seminary students wore a black suit and black tie when outside. We wore a soutane inside. Although students by definition hardly every have money to spare I was still a target for beggars and drunks. Sometimes the drunk was also a beggar. Sometimes he wanted to engage in an alcoholic discussion about theology or the Church. This happened more often on occasions such as wedding receptions.

Statue in O'Connell St of Fr Theobald Mathew OFMCap, 1790-1856, who promoted temperance



For years I didn't wear my collar when going to the city centre, mainly because of beggars. I normally wear it now and simply keep going if a beggar tries to accost me. I've never been able to deal graciously with beggars or drunks, though on this visit I haven't been rude to any I have met.

Statue of the Venerable Matt Talbot 1956-1925, who led a life of great austerity, under spiritual direction, for the last 40 years of his life after having been addicted to alcohol. You can read a brief biography of Matt here.



In the Philippines there have been occasions when individuals whom I saw simply as beggars became real persons for me when I listened to their story. In a couple of cases I would give a weekly 'allowance' on a fixed day. If they approached me on another day I'd smile and remind them of our agreement. In these situations both parties retained their dignity. These persons came to know me as an individual too and not someone to make feel guilty by a sort of 'blackmail', like the young woman in Dublin last week who reminded me that I was 'a Father'.

I prefer to channel what people give me to such projects as Holy Family Home for Girls in Bacolod City (above). I know too that many in Ireland are working with those on the margins there.