Sunday, 3rd September, 2017, (back of) newsletter

MASS INTENTIONS and FEASTS:

Saturday, 2^nd September, 6pm: Christopher Gaynor, RIP, Month’s Mind

Sunday 3^rd September, 10am: Robert Wheaton, RIP

                                     11.30am: Fr Stan Warzeszak, RIP

Tuesday 5^th September, 10am:

Wednesday 6^th September, 10am: The Parishioners

Thursday 7^th September, 12 noon: Funeral Mass: Violet Catt, RIP                              

Friday 8^th September, NATIVITY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY, 10am:

Saturday 9^th September, BVM on Saturday, 10am: Sybil Robinson, RIP

Reflection

Blessings born of the Way of the Cross (extract from a Camino Diary)

While praying in the Cathedral in Pamplona I read John's Gospel chapter 2 - the Wedding At Cana and the Cleansing of the Temple. What Jesus offers now - the new wine, the new blessing -  is better than what went before and in the cleansing of the temple he is also offering us something better than we have known. The question is will we, will I, allow Jesus to give what he is offering? Am I willing to go through the kind of cleansing that is necessary in order to experience the new?

I was the only pilgrim in the hostel in the tiny village of Zariquiegui and from there I departed in solitude on the morning of Friday November 4th at 8.00 a.m. The rain was pouring down, the ascent of the alto de Perdon (Mount of Pardon) was muddy and slippery, the fog thick and the air filled with the eerie sound of a hundred barely visible wind turbines.

Being Friday I decided to pray the Stations of the Cross internally, arriving at the top of the hill for the crucifixion. The monument there is familiar from the movie ‘The Way’. On my way down the other side, at the placing of Christ in the tomb, my mind was instantly back at Calvary in Jerusalem 1999 a month after my sister Maura’s death. At that time I placed her in the tomb and cried and cried a torrent. Now in this place I not only placed Maura but my Mam & Dad and my own past with its failure, its pain.

And the tears flowed again! The anguish in my heart was intense! And though I was totally alone, miles away from anywhere, I tried to hide my tears at first because they embarrassed me. But I dropped my hands and my guard and let go, crying all the way down.

As Mary Magdalene was faithful to the tomb of Jesus so I would be faithful to it in this moment, faithful to the grief I was experiencing. But there is also a hint of resurrection. The last breath of the old life is the beginning of the new, a new alleluia that comes as far as my lips but it is a song that will not be sung until it encounters the alleluia of the Holy Spirit. Then life will ignite in me. The opening ceremony of the Barcelona Olympics comes to mind and I think of myself as the flaming arrow shot forth by the archer to light the Olympic flame. That is the journey, the Camino.

It was one of the most significant moments of my Camino and I walked 38km that day to reach Estella, a day ahead of schedule, arriving in the hostel where Mark, Becky and Brend were staying.

It seems to me that Divine Province intended me to meet these very people who became major blessings in my whole Camino experience. They are still to this day among the most significant people in my life. They are a gift born for me out of the Way of the Cross.

Eamonn Monson sac