Great irish Dominicans Alphonsus O Donoghue
As we approach the end of 2024, this yearlong series of articles on ‘Great Irish Domini- cans’ comes to its conclusion. Over the last twelve months we have met bishops, ambassadors, crusaders, translators, reformers, martyrs, dogged administrators, and super- star preachers.
For our final instalment, though, I’ve decided to tell the story of a Dominican friar who is almost completely unknown. His name is Br Alphonsus O’Donoghue OP (1839-1920).
I got to know this lay brother through a single notebook sent to me some months ago by a kind correspondent. At first, it was something of a mystery to me. Who was this Br Alphonsus who kept such beautiful notes in Irish and English? As I patiently turned its pages, the notebook gave up its secrets.
The first section of the book includes songs in Irish composed by Seán O’Donoghue, the father of Alphonsus. A little biography is included, full of filial affection.
We’re told that Seán was born in 1816 in Spiddal, Co. Galway, and settled in Casla, where he worked as a farmer and weaver. In that remote part of Connemara, he established classes in Christian Doctrine.
On Sundays he taught in the church, and on Saturday evenings in his own house. The Irish songs were composed to help his students remember their lessons, showing an extraordinary degree of creativity in the work of catechesis.
Br Alphonsus’ mother, Teresa, was active in the apostolate too. The notebook includes an account of her life (entitled, ‘My Mother, My Good Mother’) in which Br Alphonsus explained that, when their family lived too distant from a church for her to make the journey to Mass on Sunday, she would gather the local women in her home to pray the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary.
After the Rosary being over’, he tells us, ‘she would tell them some holy stories which served to keep their thoughts on heaven the remainder of that day’.
It’s perhaps no surprise that the son of such committed apostles ended up in the Dominican Order, but Br Alphonsus’ vocational path was- n’t entirely smooth. The O’Don- oghues, like so many others, were forced to leave their home in the wake of the Great Famine. With their four young sons they witnessed ‘fever, cholera, poverty, and dire starvation’.
Eventually, the family settled in the Claddagh, on the outskirts of Galway city. There they all turned their hands to the work of boatmen.
At the same time, though, they got to know the Domini- can friars in the Claddagh. Seán, now with the help of his sons, turned again to cate- chetical work: after Mass on Sundays, he would offer to the Irish speakers in the congregation a translation of the sermon that had been preached in English.
Seán and Teresa became Dominican tertiaries, and in May 1867, their son Timothy, aged 28, entered the Order as a lay brother in Galway, becoming Br Alphonsus.
Mission to America
According to a list in his notebook, the following 53 years would see Br Alphonsus assigned to Sligo, Newry, Tallaght, Limerick, Water- ford, Boula, Newbridge, Waterford (again!), and Galway, where he remained from 1889-1920. We know little of the work he carried out in those places, but he was evi- dently a practical and trustworthy friar
In 1893 he was entrusted with the important mission of travelling to America to raise funds to cover the cost of building the fine church that now stands on Claddagh Quay. He laboured there for seventeen months. “Thanks be to God, and
Our Lady of the Rosary’, he writes, ‘who brought me safe, and cleared the debt of our new church’.
Br Alphonsus’ work shows up in another document, now in the archives of the Galway Dominicans: a record of property and investments associated with that community. He was evidently a careful steward of the economic basis of the life and work of the friars.
His words reveal more than his practical side, though. Some of the pages of his notebook reveal his creativity and spirituality, such as the poem (in Irish) he wrote to encourage his brother, Patrick, then a policeman, to enter the Order. Its refrain runs as follows:
Elsewhere he addresses his nephews, for whom he composed this note- book. He wonders if they’ll be embarrassed that their uncle was only a poor lay brother’, and then writes:
Ah! my dear little Nephew, if you but knew half the happiness of the most humble Laybrother you would at once quit the world and go to enjoy it. The few tears of contrition shed for past sins are more palatable than the grandest viands. And the few silent tears of love of God are I assure you sweeter than the merriest peals of laughter. I hope you have already felt that what I say of these tears is true, and I pray that you may feel it the more, and then remember me.
It seems fitting, at the end of our 800th anniversary year, to remember Br Alphonsus O’Don- oghue, and with him the many sons of St Dominic whose great- ness lay in quiet, faithful labour in the vineyard of the Lord. May they be rewarded and may many more follow in their footsteps.
Sing to the Lord O Come O Come Emmanuel
evening time, after the turkey sandwiches had been eaten, my grandmother yearly would quote a neighbour from her childhood and say, “As so and so used to say Christmas is as far away as ever!” And to be honest with you, I used to hate it when she would say that! It seemed so disappointing that something that we had been looking forward to so much, for so many weeks, was now gone. We have a very bad habit of peaking too early when it comes to Christmas.
Almost from Autumn the festive season seems to be coming. By at least the middle of November everywhere is ready for Christmas. Trees are up, decorations are shining, shops appear to be getting busier and busier, and everyone seems to be chasing their tails. When Christmas finally does come, we seem to be so tired of it that nobody would mind if the dec- orations disappeared on St.Stephen’s Day!
I, for one, am not going to give in to this temptation. This month I would like to reflect upon the other great season that falls in December – the season of Advent.
Anticipation
The word advent comes from the Latin word for arrival. Advent is a time of waiting for something that is going to happen. For Christians there are two arrivals associated with Jesus. We believe that Jesus came in the flesh. He was born of Mary, true God and true man. He lived his earthly life, died on the Cross, and rose again. We believe that he ascended into Heaven – that was His first arrival; His first coming. We also believe that at the end of earthly time He will come again – as the Creed says, “to judge the living and the dead.” We know this
from His own words in the Gospel. This is sometimes called The Second Coming. Both of these arrivals, His earthly birth, and His glorious return, have a waiting peri- od before they take place. The first advent comprises the long centuries before Jesus’ birth; the second advent is the period in which we are living now. In the liturgical season of Advent we commemorate both of these arrivals. Strangely enough, we do this in the reverse order. The first part of the season looks for ward to Christ’s return in glory, the second part of Advent commemorates His nativity.
One hymn that captures this very well begins with the words “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” This hymn has seven verses, though we normally do not go beyond the first in most cases. Each verse is a trans- lation of one of the so called ‘O antiphons.’ The O antiphons are little reflective pieces sung before the Magnificat in the Divine Office. A different one is prayed each evening in the run up to Christmas
Eve. Each of them uses a biblical title associated with the Messiah: addressing Jesus directly (hence ‘O’ as in ‘O Jesus’) He is called, for example, ‘Key of David’ and ‘Lord of Might’. The first title ‘Em- manuel’ reminds us exactly who Jesus is, because this word means “God with us.” Advent teaches us that God is with us in Christ. Christmas is not just a one-day celebration, it is every moment of every day, because of the fact that God chose to live with us in time.
After the First Advent Jesus was born in poverty, hidden away in the back streets of Bethlehem. At the end of the Second Advent Jesus will return in power and glory and everyone will see him. The words of the Psalm will then come true in a real way, “All the nations have seen the salvation of our God.” As we prepare for Christ- mas, keep in mind that Christmas Day is every day. Christ once came, Christ will come again. With the whole church may we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”
IRISH DOMINICAN MARTYRS
FR EDMUND O’BERN OP
The writer and Christian apologist G. K. Chesterton once remarked that the tragedy of the English conquest of Ireland was that the English never remember it and the Irish never forget. Imperialist attitudes towards the Irish
The execution of Irish Catholic Martyrs
that they were ‘barbarous wretches’ and should be either Anglicised, deprived of their lands or exterminated, go back to the reign of Henry II. That king’s invasion of Ireland in 1171 marked a critical point in Irish history, as it led to establishment of English control over significant parts of the country.
It was only after the expansionist and bellicose Tudor monarchy of the sixteenth century, most notably Henry VIII and his daughter Elizabeth I, that the English succeeded in gaining control over the entire country.
The Tudor plan- tation policy was continued in the seventeenth century, particularly by the Cromwellian government which granted over half the land of Ireland to its army officers and to investors who had financed
its campaigns. The dispos- session of the Irish landowners and the systematic anglicisation of Irish society resulted in the destruction of the ancient Gaelic social order and decline of native culture and the Irish language.
In the area of religion however the Irish were not for turning despite active proselytism and dreadful persecution.
This persecution reached its heights between 1641 and 1652. No one name has ever been agreed for the war that was fought in Ireland between these years.
Commonly it has been referred to as the 1641 rebellion, the Confederate War or the Cromwellian War. The one term that unifies them is the contemporary Irish language term Cogadh na haon deag mbliana or the Eleven Years War.
It was a confusing multi-sided war, where alliances shifted bewilderingly and was almost certainly the most destructive in Irish history One of the victims of this dreadful time was the Dominican Edmund O’Bern who had early experienced the benefits of being born into a noble Roscommon family.
His holiness was such that he was drawn to life with the Dominicans.
We have limited information of his life, but we know that he was captured by the soldiers after the garrison in Leitrim fell to the Cromwellians. Fr O’Bern refused to renounce his Catholic faith.
His courage infuriated his interrogators who set upon him in the cruellest fashion cutting off his fingers and toes one after the other. When this torment ceased, they beheaded him with a sword.
Sinterklass to santa claus
Santa Claus, known worldwide as the jolly, gift-giving symbol of Christmas, has deep historical roots in the story of St. Nicholas of Myra. St. Nicholas was a fourth-century bishop of Myra, a city in what is now modern-day Turkey. He was born around 270 AD into a wealthy fami- ly. After their death he used his inheritance to help those in need, often doing so anonymously.
Nicholas was known for his piety, generosity, and miraculous deeds. His reputation grew for secret acts of kindness, such as providing dowries for poor young women to save them from a life of servitude. One famous story recounts how he secretly deliv- ered bags of gold into a poor man’s house on three separate occasions – allegedly tossing them through a window or chimney at night. According to legend, the gold coins landed in stockings or shoes left by the fire to dry, which later became the origin of the Christmas tradition of hanging stockings.
St. Nicholas was also credited with numerous miracles. In one well-known story, he saved three innocent men who had been wrongly sentenced to death by a corrupt governor. Another account claims that he resurrected three children who had been killed by an innkeeper, cementing his role as a protector of children. These mira- cles elevated Nicholas to a status of great veneration, especially as a patron saint of children, sailors, and the poor.
During his lifetime, Nicholas en- dured persecution under the Roman Emperor Diocletian, who launched a fierce crackdown on Christians. He was imprisoned for his faith but was later released after Emperor Constantine legalised Christianity. Nicholas participated in the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, where he reportedly defended or- thodox Christian beliefs against the Arian heresy (a Christian heresy that declared that Christ is not truly divine but a created being).
The Feast of St. Nicholas and Early Traditions
St. Nicholas passed away on December 6, 343 AD. This day became a feast day in his hon- our, celebrated throughout Europe as “St. Nicholas Day.” In the centuries that followed, devotion to the saint spread across the Byzantine and Roman Empires, and by the Middle Ages, he was one of the most popular saints in Europe, particularly in coastal and trad- ing towns where sailors vener- ated him as their protector.
Relics attributed to St. Nicholas were brought to Bari, Italy, in 1087, where a basilica was constructed in his name. Pilgrims from across Europe trav- elled to Bari to honour the saint, which further spread his reputation. Through this growing devotion, local customs evolved in his honour.
Sinterklaas
In the Eastern Orthodox and Catholic churches, especially across Europe, St Nicholas’s feast day was marked by charitable acts, festive gatherings and exchanging small gifts, especially for children, reflect- ing the saint’s role as a protector of the young. In the eleventh century, St. Nicholas was especially popular in Germany, the Netherlands, and France, likely through trade with southern Europe. In the Nether- lands, the Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas emerged. Sinterklaas or St Nicholas was believed to have arrive from Spain on a white horse,
dressed in bishop’s robes, carrying a staff. This figure was accompanied by helpers, known historically as ZwartePiet, who assist in distributing treats such as chocolate letters and marzipan. In the sixteenth century, the Protestant Reformation discouraged the veneration of saints in many parts of Europe, including the Netherlands. However, the Sinterklaas tradition survived, par- ticularly in Catholic regions of the southern Netherlands (now Belgium) and Amsterdam. During this time, December 5, the evening before St. Nicholas’ Day, became the main focus of the celebration.
On this day, children in the Netherlands would leave out their shoes by the fireplace or front door, hoping to find gifts from Sinter- klaas the next morning – a custom still practiced today.
Dutch Influence in New Amsterdam and Beyond
The story of Sinterklaas found its way to the New World during the 1600s when Dutch settlers established the colony of New Amster- dam, which later became New York City. While the colony was over- taken by the English in 1664, Dutch customs persisted for generations within communities in the region. Dutch families continued celebrating Sinterklaas each December, and even as the Dutch language began to fade, the tradition lived on.
Although Sinterklaas was not initially widely known outside of the Dutch enclaves in America, the following centuries saw the imagery and legend slowly seeping into the broader American con- sciousness; blending with English, German, and other European traditions.
The Birth of Santa Claus in Nineteenth-Century America
By the nineteenth century, the image of Sinterklaas began to evolve into the jolly, red-suited fig- ure of the Santa Claus we recognise today. Writers and artists shaped
This transformation, particularly through works like Clement Clarke Moore’s 1823 poem A Visit from St. Nicholas (commonly known as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas) and the illustrations of Thomas Nast. Moore’s poem described Santa Claus as a merry, plump figure with a sleigh and reindeer, solidifying his association with Christmas Eve and gift giving.
Thomas Nast’s Merry Old Santa Claus; illustration for Harper’s Weekly, 1860 this transformation, particularly through works like Clement Clarke Moore’s 1823 poem A Visit from St. Nicholas (commonly known as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas) and the illustrations of Thomas Nast. Moore’s poem described Santa Claus as a merry, plump figure with a sleigh and reindeer, solidifying his association with Christmas Eve and gift giving. Thomas Nast was a famous political cartoonist. In the 1860s, Nast began drawing Santa Claus for Harper’s Weekly.
His illustrations featured Santa as a plump, bearded man in a fur-lined suit, further reinforcing the secular and jolly persona. Nast’s Santa also introduced new elements to the mythology, including Santa’s work-shop at the North Pole and a list of children’s behaviour, both naughty and nice. These features, along with Moore’s poem, firmly established the Santa Claus tradition as we know it today.
In many countries, especially in Europe, December 6 is still celebrated as St. Nicholas Day. Meanwhile, the figure of Santa Claus remains a beloved part of global holiday cele- brations, uniting people across cul- tures and traditions.
Whether celebrated as a saint or remembered as Santa Claus, St Nicholas’s journey reflects the enduring power of generosity and compassion. His legacy continues to inspire people around the world dur- ing the Christmas season; reminding us of the joy of giving, the importance of compassion and caring for those in need; particularly at this time of year
Famous Converts Elizabeth ann Senton
In the winter of 1803, a ship named the Shepherdess sailed from New York to the port city of Livorno, Italy. Among its passengers were the merchant William Seton, his wife Elizabeth Ann, and their daughter Anna Maria.
Although they came from the cream of New York society, the family had suffered severe misfortunes in recent years. First off, Elizabeth’s beloved father Richard Bayley had died two years previ- ously. The first health officer of New York, he had contacted yel- low fever from patients he was treating in a quarantine station.
William Seton’s father had also recently died, and after his death the family firm had suffered. The situation was not helped by a war between England and America at this time. To cap it all, the tubercu- losis that had afflicted William for years had become worse. His doc- tors recommended he visit Italy in the hope that the warmer climate there would benefit his health. In doing so, they unwittingly guaranteed his death.
Seton was going to visit his business partners in Livorno. But when the ship reached Italy, that’s not what happened. The authori- ties of the city had heard of the yellow fever epidemic in New York and insisted that the Setons spend four weeks in a quarantine station, a building the Italians called a “lazaretto”. It was essentially a stone tower.
Instead of the warmth he had been seeking, William Seton would spend weeks in a cold building by the sea, in the depths of winter. He survived the ordeal only by a few days and perished in Livorno.
A New Direction
Elizabeth Ann Seton was now at the lowest ebb of her fortunes. A widow with no resources, and more children to raise at home, the future looked bleak. But everything was to change in Italy. There, her encounter with the Catholic religion brought her, gradually, to a new spiritual faith. Before she died at the age of forty-six, Elizabeth Seton was to
become the founder of a religious order, a pioneer of Catholic edu- cation in America, and an inspirational figure to the young Church in America. In 1975, she was pro- claimed the first saint to be born in the USA.
It’s tempting to say that nobody could have foreseen all this.
Extraordinarily, this is not the case. There must have been something very remarkable about this young widow, because her husband’s Italian (and devoutly Catholic) business partners did indeed foresee that she might play a big part in the future of American Catholicism, even though she was an Episcopalian.
They took great pains to con- vince her of the truth of the Catholic faith, ultimately succeeding. Other figures taking an interest in Elizabeth’s spiritual allegiance were John Carroll, the first Catholic bishop in America, and John Henry Hobart, a future Episcopal bishop of New York, who was previously Elizabeth’s spiritual mentor. Hobart fought furiously to convince Elizabeth to remain an Episcopalian
A Narrow Escape
Elizabeth Seton was older than the United States of America. She was born in 1774, two years before the Declaration of Independence was signed. Elizabeth’s moth- er died when Elizabeth was very
young and, her stepmother Char- lotte never accepted Elizabeth and her siblings. She later separated from her husband. This tension, and a naturally melancholic temperament, led Elizabeth to con- template suicide at the age of eighteen:
“the night of the bottle”, as she recalled it. (The “bottle” in question contained laudanum, a medication which could be fatal when taken to excess.) Thank- fully, Elizabeth didn’t succumb to temptation.
It’s tempting to say that nobody could have foreseen all this.
Extraordinarily, this is not the case. There must have been something very remarkable about this young widow, because her husband’s Italian (and devoutly Catholic) business partners did indeed foresee that she might play a big part in the future of American Catholicism, even though she was an Episcopalian.
Her life became happier when she married William Seton a year later. The wedding was a major social occasion, officiated over by the Episcopalian bishop of New York. The couple moved into a fashionable house on Wall Street. They were to have five children.
Elizabeth was a beautiful and accomplished young woman, who enjoyed reading and horse riding. She was also charitably inclined, a member of a society that helped poor widows and chil- dren.
This idyllic life came under strain when Elizabeth’s father-in- law died. The couple became guardians to his six young chil- dren. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed, and they had to move back to her father’s house. It was not too long after this that the couple took the fatal voyage to Italy, where William died.
with her late husband’s business partners, Filippo and Antonio Filicchi. She was moved by the art and sculpture of Italy, but even more by the devoutness of the congregations in Cath- olic churches. Never having had a stable mother figure in her life, Elizabeth was also attracted by the Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary. But above all else it was the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist that impressed her. Her Episcopalian men- tor, John Henry Hobart, chose the doctrine of the
Italian Rebirth
Real Presence as the target for his critique of Catholicism. It was absurd, he said, that Jesus should be present on thousands of altars around the world on the same day. Elizabeth countered this by appealing to the miracle of the loaves and the fishes. Nothing was impossible to God!
Elizabeth Seton formally became a Catholic on 14 March 1805, in New York’s only Catholic church at the time. In 1809 she founded the Sisters of Charity, a religious order open to widows with children. Elizabeth became its first Superior, known to all as Mother Seton. The order was pioneering in founding Catholic
Elizabeth stayed for some time schools and hospitals in America.
Evanglium With Fr Kellan Scotty op
Fine Wine, Fine Soul
The
The wedding-feast of Cana was perhaps one of the most lavish and exquisite nuptial banquets ever hosted. The banquet hall’s atmosphere was festive, and it had been decorated with expensive adorn- ments. Sweet-smelling incense wafted on the evening breezes and tickled the wedding guests’ noses; maidens sounded lyres and mellowed listeners’ ears. The tables were lined with the same thin linen that veiled the Temple’s Tabernacle and embroidered with golden thread in Jewish motifs.
The guests themselves had donned pretty clothing; the finest silk being worn by the delightful bride. Cooked to perfection, succulent goat meat and vegetables satisfied all hungry tummies, fish from lake Tiberias eyeballed the diners, and fresh fruit sated the reveller’s cravings for something sweet.
But at the centre of this meal – nay, at every meal’s centre was the wine, which had, by this late hour, run dry. Pandemonium rightly ensued, and the quick-thinking Mother of God turned to her Son and said, ‘They have no wine’ (John 2:3).
Oenology, the science of wine- making, is in fact more of an art than a purely defined body of knowledge. It takes precious time to deftly produce the perfect bottle of wine. Grapes must be harvested, sorted, and severed from their stalks.
They must be trodden underfoot, so that those deep shades of burgundy or pale shades of white can maturate. Whilst grape skins, pulp and pomace lazi- ly soak in viscous grape juice, yeast is added to the mixture, so as to metabolise the sugary fructose into alcohol. The wine is filtered from its remaining stalks and seeds, and siphoned into another cask; there, it ages further and awaits consumption.
In the Vineyard of Love
When our immortal Lord realised that the night was late and that time was running out, he miraculously transubstantiated water into wine and satisfied his tipsy children’s want for wine; the Lord, once again, was ‘providing every plea- sure and suiting to every taste’ (Wisdom 16:20).
The headwaiter was understandably bamboozled, not knowing where the wine had orig- inated. Nevertheless, he sprang into action and tasted the wine. Like any astute sommelier, his pal- let instantly recognised the wine’s velvety, supple tannins, and the acidic and aromatic aromas which he associated with Israel’s viticul- ture. Aged to perfection by the eter- nal Son, he surely tasted Solomon’s apples and savoured raisin resin, which had once nourished the wandering Israelites.
Delirious with sensory overload, the steward needed no more wine to remark in truthful amazement that the bride- groom had kept the ‘beautiful wine’ until last (John 2:10). Our Lord never remarked on the wine’s quality, thus leaving the other wedding-guests to evaluate his produce. He knew Proverbs’ injunction: ‘it is not for kings to drink wine’ (Proverbs 31:4).
Yes, Cana’s wine was truly beautiful: vintaged by the divine Oenologist, its perfect vinousness mirrored his own perfection as the perfect Image of the Father; its flavours too were perfectly proportioned to each other, and the wine’s deep shade of burgundy matched the
colour of his sacred blood, which would soon flow more plentifully than Cana’s one-hundred and eighty gallons of wine.
But Jesus was always more interested in another beauty: a beauty of soul, which a certain Mary of Bethany exhibited just before his crucifixion. For although our Lord’s human senses were surely dazzled by the nard’s splen- dour, his sacred heart was more interested in the beautiful and rightly ordered heart of Mary, who had just performed this ‘beautiful thing’ (Matthew 26:10).
Our Lord never needed Mary’s expensive ointment or the sensual thrill of Cana’s wine to seduce him. Rather, he delighted in her beautifully ordered and grace-filled love, which he esteemed as ‘better […] than wine, and he counted her beautifully ordered and grace- inspired thoughts as better than ‘any spice’ (Song of Songs 4:10).
Cheers!
Saint Thomas Aquinas writes that a beautiful soul compels us to do beautiful things, such that our souls are rightly ordered and proportion- ate to God’s beauty. Our soul’s spiritual beauty, therefore, has an objective quality, insofar as it can only be measured according to our love for God’s laws. Six jars or not, Cana’s wine could never make a soul beautiful; excessive wine has ‘destroyed many’ (Sirach 31:25, 28).
Instead, we trust in God’s grace and fill our souls with a different spirit, the Holy Spirit. Jesus offers us his ‘wine and perfume’ of grace, so that our souls can become right- ly ordered to God and thus beautiful in his sight (Wisdom 2:7). Mature through suffering’s acidic bite and pummelled of pride by God’s feet, our souls are now beautifully stained with Christ’s ‘new wine’ and wrapped corporeally in the ‘new wineskins’ of his heavenly and eternal vintage (Mark 2:22).
Sigh no more, then, o merry- hearted ones; do a beautiful thing for the Lord and raise a toast in thanksgiving with Cana’s wine; drink deeply in delight and purple your lips with his blood; offer God your rancid waters, and our Lord Jesus Christ, the divine Vintner, will never hesitate to replicate Cana’s miracle and beautify your souls with his everlasting, efferves- cent wine.
The Queen That Never Was
England’s long distrust, of Roman Catholicism dates to the 16th and 17th centuries. From the moment Henry VIII made him- self Supreme Head of the Church of England in his quest for a male heir everything changed for Catholics. Their position became pre- carious because they were now regarded as having greater loyalty to the Pope than the ruling Monarch. They were also feared as potential agents of the foreign powers of Spain and France who were enemies of England.
Eventually in 1701 extreme measures were taken and an Act of Parliament was passed in which the heir to the throne of Great Britain and Ireland was forbidden to marry a Roman Catholic.
The Royal Marriage Act passed in 1772 forbade any member of the Royal family to marry without the consent of the reigning Sovereign. The Act further stated that without the Royal consent such an attemp- ted marriage was null and void. Nevertheless, on December 15, 1785, the Prince of Wales, the future King George IV, married a Catholic. His father, King George III had not been asked for his consent, which indeed would not have been forthcoming!
The Problem with Maria
Despite the continued existence of the Penal Laws against Catholics and Dissenters the social status of Catholics was well established by the end of the eighteenth century. Though determined to maintain the exclusion of Catholics from political power, King George III stayed at the home of the Catholic Lord Petre in 1778. He also visited the Welds at Lulworth Castle the family home of Maria Fitzherbert’s first husband.
So, it is not surprising that Maria Fitzherbert should have moved in the fashionable society where the Prince of Wales might well be the guest of honour. When George met her, she was twice widowed and although 6 years his senior was still young, attractive and wealthy with a house in Mayfair. The prince was
reckless with money, impulsive, melodramatic and sometimes selfish but he was also intelligent, charming and in those early days, tall and handsome. He had a series of lovers, all of whom were content to be mistresses. Mrs. Fitzherbert was not. Being a staunch Catholic, she refused his offer to become his latest para- mour. This was an entirely new experience for the royal who was used to ladies of fashion being much more accommodating when it came to such requests!
The very novelty of the situation seems to have been a spur to the ardour of the prince who was already infatuated with the lovely widow. He began to talk about forfeiting the Crown in order to marry Mrs. Fitzherbert. One morning in November 1784 a deputation headed by the prince’s physician arrived on her doorstep. They reported that the prince had attempted suicide.
He had fallen on his sword and was severely wounded. The physician assured Mrs. Fitzherbert that her presence was necessary for the prince’s recovery. She agreed to go to him but only if accompanied by Georg- iana, Duchess of Devonshire. So distinguished a chaperone would ensure that no breath of scandal would be occasioned by the visit.
When the two ladies arrived at Carlton House, the magnificent
residence of the prince, they found him covered in blood and hysterical. He said that he would kill himself if he could not marry Maria Fitzherbert. She was given to understand by the physician that he really feared for the prince’s life.
Under these circumstances she agreed to accept a ring which he had borrowed from the Duchess of Devonshire. On acceptance of the ring the prince grew calm and allowed the ladies to depart. A Marriage of Sorts On her return to her home Maria Fitzherbert packed her bags and headed for a long trip to Europe which was already planned.
Accor- ding to contemporary accounts George cried by the hour’. He wrote her passionate letters repeating his intention of ending his life if she would not marry him. She resisted for more than a year but eventually the two married according to the rites of the Church of England on December 15, 1785.
A certificate of marriage, duly witnessed, was given to her. The marriage was valid according to the law of the Catholic Church. The decrees of the Council of Trent requiring the presence of the parish priest and two wit- nesses were not then binding in England.
They had not been formally promulgated because of the peculiar circumstance of the Church in the British Isles.
It was, of course, in breach of the civil law and it was null and void according to the Royal Marriage Act of 1772. But it certainly satisfied the conscience of Maria since she continued publicly to the prince in a farewell letter that practice her religion.
Broken Heart
George and Maria spent much of their time in Brighton where Maria was treated like a queen.
They were together until 1794 when his extravagance and his vast debts (he had already been bailed out by his father King George III) became pressing. In desperation George was forced to accept parliament’s assistance on condition he leave Maria and marry a Protestant. The chosen bride was Caroline of Brunswick, his cousin. George was appalled when he met his queen in waiting and said in an aside, “I am not well, pray get me a glass of brandy.”
The marriage was not a happy one and after the birth of a daughter, Princess Charlotte in 1796, the couple lived apart. In August 1798, George sought reconciliation with his first wife. Maria returned to the man whom she regarded as her lawful hus- band, persuaded him to cut down on his drinking and nursed him back to health when he was stricken with inflammation of the stom- ach.
However, the prince’s affec- tions started to wander towards Lady Isabella Hertford who tried to turn him against Maria. Unable to bear any further humiliation Maria left saying to
the prince in a farewell letter that his latest fining has Quite destoryed the enter conform and happiness of both our lives.
A long time afterwards a friend spoke to Maria Fitzherbert about the possibility of her life being written and she said she supposed it would be some day or other, but with a thousand lies. Urged to write it herself she answered, “It would break my heart.”
Before George died in 1830, he asked that a miniature portrait of her be placed in his coffin – keeping her image beside him in perpetuity.
Footnote:
In 2013 part of the provisions of the Succession to the Crown Act ended the ban on anyone who marries a Roman Catholic becoming Monarch.
The Cloister Garden
Frater Fiachra
The Pansy he pansy is a hybrid plant of the genus viola, especially the Viola trithe ancestor of the cultivated ‘garden pansy’. The name pansy comes from the Old French word pensée, which trans- late simply into English as pansy,
More appropriately translated as “thought or remembrance,” and from Latin pensare “to consider “so the pansy was regarded as a symbol of thought or remembrance.
In German and Scottish folk stories, pansies were called the stepmother, the large lower petal is the mother, the two large petals to either side are the well- dressed daughters, and the two small upper petals are poor stepdaughters!
In another German story, the pansy had a wonderfully strong, sweet scent like the Violet. People travelled from miles around to smell this scent. As a result, the grasses surrounding the flower were trampled. This ruined the feed for cattle. The pansy prayed for guidance, so God gave the pansy great beauty but took away the scent.
An interesting aspect of bred pansy strains of a dominant colour is that the other two colours are always preserved at the centres of the blooms. Thus, pansies of yellow dominance may be seen to symbol- ise the glory of the heavenly Father;
purple the sorrows of the incarnate Son; and white the light of the pro- cessing Holy Spirit – with the other colours in each instance always retained at the centre, serving to remind us that whenever one of the Persons of the Trinity is present the others are present also, in the unity of the Godhead of love.
Pansies and Violas have been loved by gardeners for centuries. But, for most of us, what we love about these beautiful flowers is their vibrant colours, the pussycat faces, which include yellow, orange, red, white and even near dark purple. They grow well in sun and partial sun and look fabulous in any garden.
A Christmas Legend
Ugh! how ugly he is,” cried on him quickly before he gets away!” But it was no use. The nurse was too slow, and the spider scuttled away to safety beneath the wainscoting. Out of harm’s way and shivering at his narrow escape, the little grey spider remained there sunk in utter dejection and thought, “It is terri- ble to be a spider. I look so horri- ble that people cry out at the mere sight of me while I only want to be friendly”.
Nearby was a tiny splinter of mirror that had fallen down, and he slowly went to look at himself, seeing long crooked legs, a furry body, monstrous eyes and huge jaws, with no pretence to beauty whatsoever. He sighed deeply and morrow the master of the house was going to market, and he would cling to the cart and leave the home where he had been reared. As the car jogged through the mountains he would drop off at some deserted spot and make his home in some lonely cave.
There he would live in peace and spin his webs and catch his flies, although banished from all human habitation. Next morning when the cart left the farmhouse, the little grey spider was clinging beneath. With deep regret he watched his old home- stead disappear. Some hours later he dropped off the cart opposite the mouth of a cave up in the hills and made his way inside. The cave was used as a stable. It was warm and dry and there would be plenty of flies, so the little spider prepared to make his home there.
One night soon afterwards, as the spider slept contentedly in his web, he was awakened by a great light. In amazement, mixed with fear, he peeped cautiously below. In the manger reserved for hay for the cattle lay a little Baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and surround- ed by a light more dazzling than the sun.
Beside the manger knelt in prayerful watchfulness a most beautiful maiden, and a few paces away was tall handsome man.
With eyes wide in wonder the little grey spider saw cows and a donkey on their knees, and over everything hung an air of tranquillity.
These were no ordinary people, and would not seek to kill him, so the little spider swung quickly to the ground. Suddenly a bitingly cold wind swept through the stable and all the animals shivered. The Baby cried and the spider halted with dis- may. The poor little infant was frozen, and he was warm and cosy.
Turning he scuttled upwards again towards his silken web which he quickly cut away from the wall he then carried it down to the maiden who was now watching her child anxiously.
“Lady”, said the spider, “here is my web. It is all that I have, but it is soft, warm and light as thistle- down. Put it over your Son and it will keep out the cruel cold from his tender limbs.” Tenderly The Maiden looked at the spider crouched at her feet.
“Little grey spider, you are so kind, and you are the first of all creation to give my Son a gift. In return for this, let me give you something. What do you want most?” He answered, “Lady, make me beautiful and then I need be an out- cast no longer.”
Mary smiled and touched him gently, “Little spider,” she said, “I cannot give you beauty, and indeed bodily beauty is no reward for goodness such as yours. Yet I shall make you popular for in the future you shall be a lucky sign to man- kind, and when they see you, they shall say, “Now we shall be lucky, and all our affairs shall prosper.”
So, although he was not to be beautiful, with Mary’s blessing he would from now on be a sign of good fortune to be welcomed by all who saw him.
Our Lady of the Roasary Of Fatima Holy Fastima Holy Cross
This past year 2024 we have been the Anniversery here and love anniversary of the arrival of the Dominican Friars in Ireland. In just twenty years’ time Holy Cross, our Dominican church in Tralee, will also be celebrating its 800th anniversary! Seventy-six years ago (1948) the statue of Our Lady of Fatima arrived directly from Fatima to our church and both Friars and parishioners have been under her special protection and loving gaze since that time.
Sometime after her arrival devo- tion developed into the now well- known and awaited annual Novena in her honour. Every May in this beloved Church people gather in great numbers to confide in their Heavenly Mother and bring her all of their worries, illnesses, burdens in its prayerful and peace ful atmosphere. Holy Cross is high- ly appreciated and treasured by people of all ages.
The Young Visionaries Most of us are familiar with the story of Fatima and the three young children Our Lady appeared to – Lucia (10 yrs), Jacinta (7 yrs) and her brother Francisco (9 yrs). Their encounter with Our Lady of the Rosary brought to life a particular virtue in the soul of each of them.
Jacinta was a very sensitive child. This was often a negative thing in her life but Our Lady’s visit saw her totally transformed. Her sensitive heart had a tender love for the suffering Jesus and we find her being very imaginative and generous in the sacrifices she offered him in order to help souls and the Holy Father.
Francisco was told by Our Lady herself that he would have to pray many rosaries before he went to heaven. Up to this point he would rather play than pray and often shortened the prayers so that it was finished sooner. Now we see the boy who spent most of his time playing seeking solitude by hiding behind the rocks where he wanted to be alone and console Jesus. His compassionate heart would often exclaim “Oh, poor Jesus!”
Lucia, the oldest of the three, knew from Our Lady that she would remain on earth the longest and would have much to suffer but it must be said, not without conso- lation. Our Lady said to her “Are you suffering a great deal, my child? Don’t lose heart. I will never forsake you. My Immaculate Heart will be your refuge and the way that will lead you to God!”
These little children cooperated so perfectly to the grace of the apparition that the message of Our Lady of Fatima spread rapidly across the world. They were Our Lady’s instruments. Their little lives made a difference. They did what Our Lady said. They passed on her message. They lived her message. “Pray the Rosary… If you do what I tell you, there will be peace.”
A Masterpiece of Grace
It just goes to show how our response to Mary makes a differ- ence, no matter how small or insignificant we are or seem to be. I believe if Our Lady was to come again today, she would repeat her message, “Pray the rosary… and there will be peace”
Not long after the apparitions in Fatima devotion took root in our Dominican Church. In 1948 amidst the flourishing devotion Fr
Bene- dict O’ Sullivan O.P.(Prior) and the devout Fitzgerald family of nearby Day Place, Tralee felt urged by grace to bring such a statue of Our Lady to our church. It was a great undertaking and quite an ordeal to ship it to Ireland. The statue itself is a masterpiece and very precious with a height of
130cm. It was carved out of solid wood, coated in a layer of chalk, then painted and gilded. Her glass eyes give one the impression she is looking you straight in the eye. This may be one of the reasons she is so loved here in Holy Cross. How- ever, after 76 years of many position changes within the church, the smoke of burning candles and the loving caresses of those who revere her, she was in need of a complete make-over. The chalk was chipped, the designs on her mantle damaged, the colour gone grey, and the gold had faded.
Restoration
That is when we commissioned the expertise of Sr. Gabriela Wind of the Family of Mary Community to take on this project. Thankfully she came on board immediately and saw the work as an honour and a joy for her to undertake. Her pro- fessionalism in the completed task left us all amazed. It was wonderful to see the transformed statue and in particular Our Lady’s face had come to life!
During the period of her restoration, she was greatly missed and the parishioners were anxious that she be returned. She is now reinstated back on the Marian Altar where she continues to bestow her graces on all those who visit her. The whole church community is delighted and uplifted by her new radiance.
Now as we pray before the re- stored statue one can almost hear her say, “Are you suffering a great deal, my child? Don’t lose heart. I will never forsake you. My Immac- ulate Heart will be your refuge and the way that will lead you to God.” “In the end my Immaculate heart will triumph!”
Mary, Mother of Divine Providence
Oh my God! When will it please thee to grant me the favour of living always in that union of my will with thy heavenly will? Where saying nothing all is said and all is done by leaving all to thee; where we achieve much by surrendering ever more to thy will and yet are relieved of all toil since we place everything in thy care and are concerned only to trust wholly in thee…Yes, my God, yes to whatever may please thee. May all thy holy wishes be fulfilled.
Sabands Fant des Pie Divine Causidde begin bus teaching on the abandonment of self to Divine Providence. Although given original- ly in the mid-eighteenth century it resonates strongly today, when hopelessness, spiritual blindness, and solipsistic self-sufficiency seem to reign supreme.
At the heart of deCaussade’s teaching is the realization that God’s one purpose in creation and redemption, is made actual for us in the totality of the situation in which we find ourselves at each single moment of our con- scious life. For this fact it has been popularly referred to as a teaching on the sacrament of the present moment that God gives us precisely what we need with the grace of this very moment. The tension between God’s prov- idence and our thoughtless expectation has always marked the human relationship with the divine.
The votive Mass which celebrates Our Lady as the Mother of Divine Providence seeks to set at the centre point of our faith consideration the God who knows every need, from most insignificant to overwhelmingly salvific, and provides for it.
The selfishness which often clouds our reason and faith, like a spoilt child, cries out that God provide what we demand – the market economy which consumes us makes us prefer business negotiation to loving covenant! But from the beginning, God has had for us a maternal care, which is announced to us in the Entrance
Antiphon of the Mass: Can a mother forget her infant, and not have pity on the child of her womb? Even if a mother should forget, you I will never forget (Isaiah 49:15). We recall that this is a tender God speaking to his bro- ken people and consoling them.
It is precisely this richly loving image which reveals the true God of the Old Testament, and who provides the icon of which Mary will be the natural and chosen extension.
Giving Love a Chance
Mary’s intercession is this regard is beautifully spelt out for us in the Preface of the Mass. Two out- standing examples demonstrate that she stands interceding for God’s children in their most pressing moments: the pivotal scene at Cana in Galilee, when she both asks and steps back; and the word at the Cross when, through the disciple John, all of humanity is given into her motherly care, and all of humanity
receives her as mother. But all of this hinges on Mary’s own welcoming of the grace that God gives in that moment of supreme trust and acceptance: her Yes to the Father’s will, a will which guides all and provides all. As one author has it: The greatest word that a human being has ever
uttered is amazingly simple. Our first reaction when we hear this word is perhaps: “Is that all?” Yes, that is all! Mary said Yes to God. She let God be God. God wanted to love her and, in her, all of mankind. God wanted to fill her hands, and she stretched out her empty hands and let them be filled. She gave Love the chance to be realized.
That thought is exquisite! Mary, who knows the unbounded generosity and loving kindness which is God’s providence, wish- es also that her children – we our- selves know it through her intercession and our gradual falling into God’s full hands! So, the Post Communion – that through the intercession of the Mother of divine providence, we may seek your kingdom and its justice above all else and receive your help for our earthly needs.
A final word from a great Russian mystic, StaretzSilouan. It summarizes the Virgin’s trust in God, and invites us to follow her lead: How can you know that you are living God’s will? This is the sign: If you are troubled about anything, that means you are not completely abandoned to God’s will.
The one who lives according to God’s will is not troubled about anything. If he needs something, he surrenders it and even himself to the Lord. He places it in his hands.
The Life of Saint Martin
Martin was fortunate in having, through his Dominican life, wise superiors who saw God work- ing through him. Sometimes, he bewildered them by his unconventional ways, but they never lost confidence in his prudence, trusting him with undertakings such as the building and the staffing of the orphanage of the Holy Cross. They agreed when he insisted that the staff be well paid so they would provide the children with the best education possible.
There were many of his brethren however who were baffled at how he relieved the sufferings of others while inflicting voluntary pain on himself. Those who hate pain as an evil in itself are still confronted with this kind Dominican who administered rosemary to ease his patient suffering while doing the opposite when it came to himself. And yet he was no ascetic recluse, the opposite in fact as all his charitable works in Lima and the surrounding areas demonstrate.
The theologians who have stud- ied the matter deeply, have written books which elucidate the problems which are raised by Martin’s harsh- ness to himself. It is, really painful to think that he slept on boards, and wore a hairshirt, and scourged him- self, and made a hard life far harder than it need have been.
Many will find it equally hard to acquit him of foolishness, especially in present times when everything is geared towards personal comfort and mak- ing life as easy as possible.
A gen- eration who considers it a chal- lenge to forgo snacks between meals on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday would find it particularly difficult to understand the actions of a man who fasted for almost the entire year even though this was not the rule of the Order. He never ate meat, only vegetables and even gave them up during Lent.
Shouldering The Cross
Much has been written to explain such things but there will, of course, always be in this world a misunderstanding of the attitude of some to voluntary suffering. To understand it one should under- stand the minds of the saints like Martin who sought it so deliber- ately. St. Thomas Aquinas points out, what Martin would have experienced, the instinctive horror of the surgeon’s knife even in patients who submit to it freely, not because they desire it in itself, but because they know it is the instrument that may save them from death.
Thus, Martin saw in suffering, freely accepted and freely sought, a remedy for the cancer of sin. He could welcome it for Christ’s sake, because it short- ened the distance between himself and his Master.
Martin was not a fanatic, who made pain its own end. In all his material sufferings, one must never forget the love which rescued them all from being dead mortifi- cations to being vital manifesta- tions of his own adherence to God. In Christian spirituality, suffering is walking with Christ and there- fore redemptive and transforma- tive.
It lifts the mind from the tem- porary pleasures of this world to the consolation of the next People often say when advising a certain course of action, “You only live once.” In this scenario suffer- ing is to be avoided because it inhibits fulfilment of the senses.
To this school of thought death is the worst of evils, rather than the gateway to eternal life Another facet of Martin’s vol- untary suffering is the way in which it acted as a counter point against sin. Fr.
Martindale S.J., speaking of the fastidious good- ness of St. Aloysius in the years of his boyhood, says: ‘I think that neither his goodness nor his purity would have lasted without that ter- rible self-discipline which he was to impose upon himself.’
Martin was wise enough to know the need of such defences. Of course, many said in his day, that he was stark staring mad. But it was the old, wise foolishness of the Cross. There was method in Martin’s madness, ‘Someone should do penance,’ he would say, ‘for the sins of sinners who do none. Such penances are necessary for the salvation of my own soul.’
Saint Martin Replies
CLARE Our daughter started secondary school and was very unhappy. This broke my heart as she had no friends and came home crying and not wanting to go in the next day. Naturally her father and I were very worried, so I began a Novena to St Martin. After the third day she started to calm down and has now made friends with two others in her class. I cannot thank dear St Martin enough for his interven- tion.
LONDON, UK I would like to thank St Martin for many favours received within the last year, from my family getting good jobs and my son’s unexpected quick re- covery from a difficult medical procedure. Put your trust in St Martin and he will never let you down.
MEATH I was having a bad per- sonal issue that seemed to be get- ting increasingly worse. I made a Novena to St Martin and not only was the problem resolved but things turned out to be more favourable than I could ever have hoped for. Again, many, many thanks to this wonderful saint who has never let me down.
LIVERPOOL, UK I prayed to St Martin because I was very wor- ried about my son who was unhappy in school and also find- ing the learning aspect of things difficult. I made a Novena to St Martin and shortly afterwards we found out that he has dyscalculia. There is more understanding of this condition now and we have been able to get him help. The change in him is miraculous and I am most grateful to St Martin for his intercession.
WESTMEATH I wish to publish a thanksgiving to St Martin for his intercession. I prayed that our son would find employment in his field nearer home and our request was granted. I ask St Martin for his help every day and I feel that we have received many blessings as a result.
ANON I am writing in thanks giving for a request that has been ongoing for 5 years. It concerneda court case that was postponed time and time again. At last the final day came and we got the result we wanted with all the best consequences. I also want to offer thanks to Our Lady of Lourdes who is always there to guide us all.
LIMERICK I want to thank the Sacred Heart and St Martin for hearing and answering my heart- felt prayers. A family member was going through a very tough time for the past year. St Martin never lets me down.
GLASGOW, SCOTLAND I wish to express my thanks to St Martin, St Joseph and St Anthony. My dear son had a breakdown and has fought very hard to get back to good health. He had been trying to find employment and recently he got word that he had been suc- cessful. I have prayed so hard for him. Thank you, dear saints, for interceding for him and thank you Lord Jesus.
WEXFORD My cat, our beloved family member, went missing and we were extremely worried. I prayed and promised St Martin publication for her safe return. Thank God she did arrive home at last. I am eternally grateful.
LIMERICK Dear St Martin, I want to thank you so much for my son and daughter-in-law getting a positive test for a longed-for baby. Please intercede that every- thing will be safe and the baby healthy. You never let me down when I ask for your help, usually something for my family.
ANON Thank you St Martin for interceding with Jesus on my behalf. My mother had a problem with her leg, and I had issues with my teeth. I made two Novenas and my requests were granted. Thank you, Jesus and St Martin, for all your help. I love you both.
SCOTLAND I am immensely grateful to Saints Martin and Pio for the most wonderful favour. My daughter’s incurable brain cancer tumour disappeared, and she has had no treatment now for a few years. Her oncologist is baffled and said it has to be a miracle. All my thanks to these great saints for their intercession on her behalf. 3