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Wednesday 27th May 2020 Monsignor Ryan

27/5/2020

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Late have I loved you, 
O Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.
You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.
Late have I loved you, 
O Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
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St. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions
St. Augustine’s Autobiographical Confessions 

After living a worthy life in search of truth and meaning, Augustine found what he lacked in his encounter with the Spirit of Christ. In his autobiographical “Confessions”, Augustine offers an insight into his experience of finding satisfaction in God alone.

“ Our souls are restless till they rest in You, O God.”

Augustine gives thanks to his mother (Saint Monica) for his conversion. Monica died at Civitavecchia, the Port of Rome. Augustine’s brother wanted to take their mother back to North Africa to be buried. Augustine disagreed. Even in her comatose state, Monica chided them for arguing. Her only request she told them was,

“Remember me at the altar of God.”

“Late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you…”

In using this language and style, Augustine is referencing the Wisdom literature of the Old Testament, (Psalms, Book of Wisdom, Song of Songs etc). He just stopped short of plagiarising the Psalms and the Song of Songs.

This surreal time of the Pandemic has seen “Google” searches for God increase by 60%, as people turn to God for comfort at this time. This rise in searches appears to coincide with the WHO declaring a Pandemic on 11th March. We would do well to set aside a quiet moment to meditate on the lyrics of Saint Augustine and to give thanks for the gift of “That Ancient Beauty” who welcomes us into his presence daily. Like Augustine, let our prayers express our love and gratitude to God for the graces he bestows on us day by day.

Monsignor Ryan

PS There is a Guild of St. Monica, which meets on the South Side of Glasgow. They meet monthly. Their remit is to pray for sons, daughters, grand children who have lost their way. I am an unofficial chaplain to the Guild. If anyone would like to know more about the Guild, please contact me at St. Andrew’s. 

St. Augustine of Hippo 

St. Augustine, born in Roman North Africa to a devout Catholic mother and a pagan father, was a notoriously rebellious Catholic teenager who cohabitated with a girlfriend, joined an exotic Eastern cult, and ran away from his mother.

Augustine became a brilliant and renowned teacher of public speaking and was appointed by the emperor to teach in Milan, Italy, at that time the administrative capital of the Western Roman Empire.

While there, he happened to hear the preaching of the bishop of Milan, Ambrose, who baptised him in 386. St. Augustine ultimately renounced his secular career, put away his mistress, and became first a monk, then a priest, then the bishop of Hippo, a small town on the North African Coast.
 

The voluminous writings of this Early Church Father span every conceivable topic in theology, morality, philosophy, and spirituality. St. Augustine of Hippo is commonly recognised as the great teacher in the Western Church between the New Testament and St. Thomas Aquinas and is one of the Doctors of the Church.  

​He died in AD 430.
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Wednesday 20th May 2020 Monsignor Ryan

19/5/2020

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PIED BEAUTY

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
 
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1846-1889)
As we spend more time in our gardens these days “in vacant or in pensive mood”. Are not our senses awakened by pied beauty and charged with the grandeur of God’s creation.

Gerard Manley Hopkins’, “Pied Beauty” points to the poet’s power of serious appreciation of the beauty of things around him, his poetic concentration, compassion and above all his unquestioning faith in God.
He believed that created beauty is a reflection of God, and the beauty of nature is constantly reborn and renewed. Nature has been polluted and violated by man’s industrial activities (how contemporary is that!) Yet the beauty of nature is never exhausted because,” the world is charged with the grandeur of God.”

Gerald Manley Hopkins (1846-1889) was an English poet and a Jesuit priest whose posthumous fame established him among the leading Victorian poets. His manipulation of “prosody” particularly his concept of “sprung rhythm” and use of imagery established him as an innovative writer of verse.

Two of his major themes were nature and religion. Only after his death did a friend, Robert Bridges begin to publish a few of Hopkins’ mature poems in anthologies, hoping to prepare the way for a wider acceptance of his style. By 1930 his work was recognised as one of the most accomplished literary accomplishments of the 19th century. It had a marked influence on such leading 20th century poets as T. S. Elliot, Dylan Thomas and W. H. Auden.


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Right Rev. Monsignor James Ryan
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Wednesday 13th May 2020 Monsignor Ryan

13/5/2020

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​Though the dawn breaks cheerless on this place today.
My spirit walks upon a path of light.
For I know my greatness.
Though hast built me a throne within thy heart.
I dwell safely within the circle of thy care.
I cannot for a moment fall out of thine everlasting arms.
I am on my way to glory.
 
When mystery hides thee from the sight of faith and hope:
When pain turns even love to dust:
When life is bitter to the taste
And our song of joy dies down to silence,
then, Father, do for us that which is past our power to do for ourselves.
Break through our darkness with thy light.
Show us thyself in Jesus suffering on a tree,
rising from a grave,
reigning from a throne,
with all power and love for us unchanging.
So shall our fear be gone and our feet set upon a radiant path.”

(Hebridean Altars)
 Adapted by Rt. Rev. Mgr. James Ryan 

The spiritual gem that is “Hebridean Altars” was given to me by the late Canon Donald MacKay of Daliburgh, South Uist. We had been colleagues on the staff of The Royal Scots College, Valladolid/Salamanca. He gave it to me on the occasion of my leaving Salamanca in 1990. Although he was very ill he came to my 50th Anniversary Mass and celebrations and he died six weeks later.

The subtitle of “Hebridean Altars” is “The Spirit of an Island Race.” It is rarely far from my reach. This is why I would like to share this reflection with you.

“Hebridean Altars” was written by the Rev. Alistair MacLean, a Church of Scotland Minister. He was renowned for his “fire and brimstone” sermons but in "Hebridean Altars" he encapsulates the best of Celtic spirituality. This reminds us that spiritual expression is not the reserve of any one faith or creed. 
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The passage I have chosen is a redaction. It is taken from two different chapters in the book, which I think bond and blend. It takes us from the brooding, cheerless place of the opening line to the exaltation of the radiant paths in the finishing line. 

This reminds us that the light of Christ is eternally glowing with a luminous radiance that can never be extinguished by any darkness, be it (COVID 19 or) even death itself.

PS. Lyricism must run in the genes. Alistair, one of his sons of the same ilk went on to be a successful author e.g. Guns of Navarone, Ice Station Zebra.
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Friday 8th May 2020 Mognsignor Ryan

8/5/2020

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Elizabeth Barrett was in ill health and depressed after the death by drowning of one of her brothers. Robert Browning had read some of her poems and wrote to her expressing appreciation.

​The rest is history. Their relationship blossomed and they were married. Marriage brought deliverance from her oppressive and tyrannical father.
​
​Elizabeth wrote Sonnet 43 for Robert in gratitude for his love and care for.
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.


Elizabeth Barrett Browning - 1806-1861
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    Author

    Monsignor James Ryan
    ​

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St Andrew's RC Church
29 Roman Road
Bearsden
Glasgow
G61 2SN
Telephone : 0141 942 4635
Email : [email protected]
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