In 19 June 1902 the universal church recognised 25 Irish saints via the process of Cultus Confirmation.
The process of Cultus Confirmation is also called equipollent (equivalent) canonization, which consists in decreeing an Office and Mass by the pope in honour of the saint, (Benedict XIV, l, c., xliii, no 14). The Congregation for the Causes of Saints (CCS), instituted in 1969, has the competence to consider such an honour. Ordinarily someone whose cultus has been confirmed is considered “Blessed”. In some cases, the decree grants the title as “Saint”.
The rules instituted by Pope Benedict XIV, on the conditions for an equipollent canonization: 1) Existence of an ancient cultus of the person: namely evidence of an immemorial public veneration (cultus ab immemorabili tempore) of the person at least one hundred years before the publication of the decree. 2) Reliable and constant attestation to the virtues or martyrdom of the person by credible historians. 3) Uninterrupted fame of the person as a miracle worker: the claimed saint maintains a reputation for performing miracles that have continued without exception of the centuries. These criteria ensure only claimed saints of authentic merit veneration and canonisation.
THE birthplace of this famous martyr was the small village of Lycadoon, in the diocese of Limerick, three miles from the city. There his parents obtained a respectable living by tilling land and rearing cattle, and were well known and much esteemed among their neighbors both in town and country whether rich or poor, and even by the chief men of that province, and more especially by James Fitzgerald, Earl of Desmond. His father’s name was William Hurley; he was owner of the estate of Lycadoon,
Founded in 1460 by Donald Kavanagh. The site is now occupied by the National Bank He was Treasurer-at-War, and Lord Justice with Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, from 1582 to 1584. He is buried in St Patrick’s Dublin. His descendant, the Earl of Portsmouth, still holds the lands of the monastery that were confiscated.
and he also filled the office of steward or manager of the said Earl’s lands. This nobleman’s fame and power extended over the whole of the province and even throughout the entire kingdom of Ireland, though now fortune has changed and all that power has fallen away. His mother was Honor O’Brien, descended from that illustrious and most famous family of the O’Briens, Earls of Thomond, who were Kings of Munster long before Ireland was invaded. Dermot O’Hurley would himself attach little or no importance to the glory of his noble lineage.
He received a liberal education owing to the care and generosity of his parents; and after some years passed in the study of theology and canon law in the famous University of Louvain, he obtained the degree of Doctor in both faculties. Later he taught these sciences in Louvain, in Rheims, and Lille. Afterwards, having advanced in the practice of piety and devotion, the Apostolic See thought him a fit person to be appointed to rule over the Catholic of his native country. The schism as at this time raging in Ireland.
Wherefore, having been appointed Archbishop of Cashel by Gregory MIL,’ he set out on his journey to Ireland. But there was a difficulty in obtaining a passage, owing to the great dangers that Catholic merchants and sailors ran at the hands of the heretics in those times of trouble and confusion. He waited for a while in Brittany, watching for an opportunity.
‘ September 111’, 1581. There is a Latin poem on his consecration in Spic. Ossor., i.80
At length he found a bound Drogheda vessel in the harbour of Corosic. He went to the owner, and bargained with in for a passage to Ireland. There were in the port at this time other ecclesiastics from the same country who also wished to return; amongst them Nielan, Abbot of Newry, of the Cistercian Order, made earnest application for a passage.
And that all may know the great dangers which are every day run by our missionaries when going to their native country to pour out their sweat, and even their blood if necessary, for Christ and His Church, we must understand that the endless difficulties in obtaining honest and faithful men to whom the poor passengers can entrust their lives. For if either the merchant or the captain of the ship, or the common sailors, (who very often belong to other nations, Welsh, English, or Scotch people), are imbued with new errors, a rare thing in a true Irishman, the poor priest runs great risks, and especially if he is an ecclesiastic of a high position or of great learning, or even if he is merely suspected of belonging to the ecclesiastical state, as lately happened to two regulars of the Institute of the Capuchins, whose harmless manner of life and virtues are known and publicly spoken of by all not altogether strangers to the Catholic faith. These two, by their unforeseen escape from the hands of their pursuers, give others good reason for putting their trust in the divine mercy, which never abandons those who rely on it, nay, even protects with uplifted arm those who are in danger lest they may fall, or withdraws them from the risk that they may not be affrighted, and everywhere guards and strengthens them, that they may confess the name of God, when necessary, before the kings and princes of this world.
But we speak of the great and also of the manifold dangers which those, even unawares, must encounter who resolve to promote the salvation of their neighbours in Ireland. I say there is danger when they put themselves in the power of the sailors, that after embarking the ship may be wrecked, owing to treachery, the desire to betray them, or the fear of incurring any loss. There is danger on the shores of that Catholic land and elsewhere, that their landing may be notified beforehand by the spies and informers of which sea-ports are sometimes full. There is danger, too, that the guards and governors of the towns where they land may seize them and cast them into prison. There is danger on the broad ocean that they may fall in with heretical pirates, as hurtful as the Syrtes or Charybdis, by whom they may be put to death through hatred of the Catholic faith.
We see thus, the many dangers which our archbishop had of necessity to encounter when returning to this country, like a sheep going voluntarily to the slaughter. Dermot had already handed over to a certain Wexford merchant the rescript and the other documents, which showed the exalted office for which he was selected and the portion of Christ’s flock committed to his care. He was sent, ordained, and instituted by the Apostolic See, and therefore could say in all truth: ‘We have been chosen by the Lord and the Holy One of Israel, our King. He wished to send over these holy objects by the hands of others by a different way, that he might make the voyage with more safety, and that the merchants who gave him a passage might be secure from harm too.
In truth, the risks run by merchants who give passages to such persons are very great. The captain of the ship R.H., felt the truth of this. It appears that no one can enter the country, leave it, or dwell in it, without incurring danger. The Wexford merchant, who had charge of his papers, fell in with pirates; by these he was robbed, and ill-treated to such an extent that he was grateful for being left alive.
The Archbishop, having got a passage on the Drogheda ship, entrusted himself to the divine keeping, and after a fair voyage, landed at the island of Skerries. Soon after he set out for Drogheda, and while staying at an inn, there arose a discussion on religion in his presence. On such occasions he could hardly refrain from exerting his zeal and making use of his learning. A heretic who was seated by him, Walter Baal by name, which designates at once a son of the devil and a son of Belial, taking offence thereat, burst forth into insults, and very soon after rushed off to Dublin, and gave information about Dermot, filling the minds of the Lords Justices with suspicion. The departure of this treacherous guest made the Archbishop suspect his wicked purpose, and a worthy citizen confirmed his suspicion, for he secretly warned his companion and guide of the danger, that they might make haste and leave the town. This same Dillon soon after paid the penalty of his kindly office of guide by a long imprisonment, and it was with difficulty, and solely through the influence of his elder brother,” who was then a Privy Councillor, and held the office of Chief Justice of the Exchequer, that he escaped the penalty of death.
The archbishop Dermot followed his advice, and set off for the town of Slane, where that famous man, Thomas Fleming, Baron of Slane, then resided. There they were conducted into a secret room by desire of that pious heroine, Catherine Preston, the Baron’s wife. Here they remained in seclusion for some days, for they did not at all wish to be seen in public, whether at table, or meeting or conversing with anyone whom they did not know, until the plot laid by the traitor, Walter Baal, should be baffled and the report that he had spread abroad should cease.
(Sir Lucas Dillon. Queen Elizabeth used to call him her faithful Lucas, and rewarded him well for his services. He is buried at Newtown, near Trim. See Archdall’s Peerage, iv.155)
When they thought they had escaped from him, they began to act with more freedom, to sit at table at the usual meals, to enter into conversation with those whom they met, to join the family circle, and they were not afraid to be seen or to speak with any guests that came the way. It so happened, whether by accident or on purpose, that Robert Dillon,’ one of the Privy Council and Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, came to the house. While they were seated at table, the conversation turned on some important topic which gave rise to a warm discussion, and in the middle of the dispute some words which showed his learning fell from the Archbishop’s lips; these made the cunning Chief Justice, though he had a squint in one of his eyes, and was totally blinded by worldly ambition, mark the man carefully, and ask who he was, where he had come from, and much more, all of which he treasured up in the depths of his soul until an occasion should offer of putting it before the chief Governors and the Council. He mentioned the facts, and at the same time suggested a plan for bringing the Archbishop from his place of concealment to answer for himself before the Council of Kingdom ; if he had fled from the place, he said his suspicions were not lessened by the flight, but rather strengthened, and in that case the Baron himself should be called before the Council to answer for him, or should bring him to them. As a fact, he had fled. The Baron was brought before the judges, and bitterly rebuked for having admitted into his house a wicked man, a rascal, a traitor, a disturber of the public peace; for having allowed him to sit at his table, and for having kept and supported within the walls of his house one who was a canker of the state. He should be mulcted in a heavy fine and long imprisonment, or he should bring to them the Archbishop, wheresoever he had concealed
himself. The Baron, frightened by these threats and in a state of great terror, immediately went off in search of him. This man, wholly taken up by the cares of this world, and lukewarm even then in his faith, and not at all earnest in his zeal for religion, though he could not save himself and his property in any other way, especially as his persecutors displayed such fierceness and threatened him with the severest torments.
Wallop’s colleague, Loftus, did not thirst for the blood of the innocent man to such an extent ; he was rather inclined to mercy and moderation, for by nature he was more gentle, as became the Chancellor of the kingdom, who had to decide what was right and just; but the other, who shared the government with him, was a disciple of Mars, and trained up in the arts of Bellona rather than in those of Pallas, blood-thirsty and fierce, and could not be appeased or satisfied unless blood was shed. An ill-founded suspicion haunted his mind in reference to Dermot, that he had a knowledge of, or took part in, a process which had been carried on shortly before at Rome or Madrid against a nephew or other relative of his, who had been accused by his countrymen of reviling the Catholic religion, and had been handed over by them to the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition to be punished or censured. It was said commonly that the decision in the case fixed a barb in his soul, which he thought could not be removed, or the wound inflicted by it healed, in any other way than by the executioner blunting it or covering it with blood in the body of the martyr. As the judges knew this well, they warned the Baron to make a careful search, and to bring Dermot to them if he wished to save himself.
(Sander says Nicholas. Baron of Slane, had been imprisoned several times for the faith. De Visib. Mon., p. 672)
(Then Protestant Archbishop of Dublin. See Moran’s Archbishops of Dublin, p.108. He and Wallop were Lords Justices then.)
The Baron of Slane, who thought more of his own safety than of that of his friend the Archbishop, set off in pursuit of the flying lamb, I do not say like a wolf or a hound, but rather as an active hunter. He overtook him’ at Carrick, on his return from a pilgrimage to the Saving Wood of the Cross, which he had vowed some time before, when he was in danger of shipwreck, to make as soon as he landed, and in very civil language suggested to accompany him to Dublin, that he might appear before the Lord Justices, prove his innocence, and make it evident to everyone that he had come to Ireland in a truly ecclesiastical spirit and through zeal to preach the Gospel.
What was the pious Bishop to do? He was not concerned about the risk to his own life, and he wished to save the Baron. Thomas Butler, of pious memory, the famous Earl of Ormonde3 was then at Carrick. He loved Dermot, and revered his virtues and exalted office. He ordered food and other necessaries of life to be supplied from his own house to Dermot clandestinely; some even say that he was privately called in by the Earl to give the sacrament of confirmation to his son James, born a short time before, who died at an early age in England.
The unsuccessful rising of the southern nobles was crushed just at this time. The Earl of Desmond, now that his forces were few in number and his strength much impaired, was looking for a hiding-place, for there alone could be hope for any security.
The Archbishop travelled with the baron the different stages of the road to Dublin. But while the Baron stayed at the public inns or was sumptuously entertained by his friends, the Archbishop’s halting-place was the public jail, for this was thought likely to hold him more securely. It happened that one night during the journey he was confined in the prison at Kilkenny.
When the Archbishop reached Dublin, he was brought into the presence of the Lords Justices, and examined in great detail by the Council. Though he was accused of many crimes wrongfully, which were neither proved against him nor true, he showed he was free from all guilt. Adam Loftus, the Chancellor, dealt with him in a kindly manner, and by setting before him many temptations, tried to persuade him to conform, as they call it, and to accommodate himself to the customs of the present time. Henry Wallop addressed him in a savage manner, and reviled him in abusive language with many insults and threats, and his inveterate hatred against the orthodox creed could not be appeased otherwise than by the murder of this victim, whom he marked out by his looks and in his thoughts for slaughter.
Though he was examined at different times, yet not the slightest proof could be given of the charges made against him. He thus could not be convicted by open trial. Since Dermot O’Hurley was also not subject to English law, and he could not be proved guilty by judicial process in his native country, a new system of trial was devised against him, that there might be no means of escape from the fangs of the cruel executioner. They resolved to have the peaceful Bishop put to death by military law. But first the archbishop should be subjected to torture, so that even if no confession of crime could be wrested from him, he should be forced by the intensity of his sufferings to abandon the Catholic faith. But the cruel tyrant was disappointed in the case of Dermot. The fire of the love of Christ could not be overcome by torture.
Fortunately a certain noble and learned man, a citizen of Dublin, we can learn from eyewitnesses what he writes as he describes them in detail. The Archbishop of Cashel met with a far more painful death indeed the blood-thirsty cruelty of Calvinism may be seen from this one act of barbarism.
(Stanihurst, Brevis Prmunitio, p.29)
‘’ The executioners placed the Archbishop’s feet and legs in boots filled with oil, they fastened his feet in stocks, and they put fire under them.’ The oil, heated by the flames, penetrated the soles, legs, and other parts, torturing them in an intolerable way, so that pieces of the skin dropped from the flesh, portions of the flesh from the bared bones. He who was presiding over this torture, not being used to such strange cruelty, rushed hurriedly out of the room, that he might not look further at such savage conduct or hear the cries of the innocent Archbishop. The Calvinistic executioners wished to gratify their minds for a while with these strange cruelties, but they did not mean to be satiated thereby, for after an interval of a few days they hurried the Prelate, who had been racked and was almost expiring from the continued tortures, and had no thought then that he should be put to death so suddenly, to a field not far from Dublin Castle, at the break of day, lest the citizens should crowd to witness such cruelty, and there they hanged the innocent man from the gallows with a halter roughly made of twigs, that his sufferings might be all the greater. Whilst they were gratifying their innate love of cruelty, the blessed Bishop taken to the heavenly fountain of eternal life, is victorious though conquered, though he was slain he lives, triumphing for ever over the cruelty of the Calvinists’’.
In the cries of the Archbishop of which I speak there was only the pious outbursts of a Christian soul which felt the bitterness of its tortures. For he was a man of sorrow, and acquainted with infirmity, and from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head he was in torture. Not only his feet and legs were penetrated by the hot oil and salt, not only did the skin and flesh fall from the joints, not only were the muscles and nerves, the veins and arteries, saturated with the fiery mixture, not only were the limbs and sinews and bones pierced by this fierce fluid, but his whole body was devoured by the heat, and at the same time bathed in a cold sweat.
(O’Sullevan says he was tortured in this way for an hour. Hist. Cath., p. 125)
With a loud voice he used to cry out: ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me.’ These words he uttered aloud he repeated and pronounced sweetly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me’; and the raising of his voice with the elevation of mind was joined with the sweet harmony of his virtues. The victim was stronger than his tormentors, and that loving faith, that purity of religion, that brightness of the orthodox light, could not be extinguished or dimmed by the penetrating salt or the burning oil.
He seemed to be exhausted by the extent of his sufferings while he was fastened to the stocks; he was speechless and senseless; he lay on the ground dumb and almost lifeless; he could not move his eyes or tongue. his hands or feet, or any member of his body. He who was superintending the execution began to feel uneasy, and to dread that while ordered only to inflict torture and apply the fire, not to kill, he had exceeded his orders and brought about the Archbishop’s death. In great alarm, to avoid the guilt of killing him by the torture, he wrapped him up in linen and laid him on a bed of down, and poured a few drops of cordial into his mouth, to see whether there remained any feeling still in his tortured body, or the breath of life could be recalled. The following morning, as he had recovered a little, a drink of aromatic extracts was given to him, that he might be strengthened to endure new torments; and when he swallowed some of it from the spoon, his tormentors showed relief.
Our martyr was visited in prison by Charles MacMorris, a priest of the Society of Jesus, then in Dublin. He had a knowledge of medicine and surgery, and in return for cures effected on some noblemen, he had been released from prison, into which he was cast on account of his faith. By him the Archbishop was supplied with medicines and food, and at the end of a fortnight he was restored somewhat so as to be able to sit up, and even to limp about a little.’ His enemies tried to make him waver in the faith. High positions, even one of the chief offices of the kingdom, were offered to him if he would resign the office of Archbishop which he held, renounce the primacy of Rome, and acknowledge the Queen’s supremacy, both secular and ecclesiastical. Among others sent to question and tempt him was Thomas Johns,2 now Chancellor of this kingdom. But he remained firm as a rock, though the waves roared around him. His only sister, too, Honora O’Hurley, was directed and instructed to offer him a new temptation. And she earnestly besought him to yield. But, with a fierce look, he bade her kneel down before him, and humbly ask pardon for so great a crime against God, one injurious to her own soul, and odious and humiliating to her brother.
These Governors were soon about to resign their office, to be succeeded by Sir John Perrott, who had just come to Dublin. Before he entered on his office, word was brought to them that the Earl of Ormonde was coming in all haste to Dublin to welcome the new Viceroy and interpose on Dermot’s behalf. But the ferocity of Wallop could not be appeased or satiated except by the death of this innocent man. Wherefore, as Perrott was about to receive the sword of office on Trinity Sunday, and as their authority ceased when he entered on office, lest their successor might turn out to be too gentle towards the innocent man, on the preceding Friday, and at early dawn, as we have already said, he was put on a hurdle and taken out by the garden gate to the place where he was hanged, Wallop himself leading the way, as the report goes, with three or four of his guards. There he was hanged with a with; tough, flexible branch of willow, used for binding, or basketry. While they hanged him the archbishop prayed to God and forgave his tormentors from his heart.
He was taken out of the Castle without any noise, that there might be no disturbance in the city. The Catholics who were imprisoned there, seeing what was taking place, cried aloud that an innocent man was going to be put to death. The holy martyr was hanged in a green’ near the city. After he had breathed forth his blessed soul, his body was buried by the heretics in the spot where he was executed. William Fitzsirnon placed it in a wooden coffin and removed it to a place of safety. Saint Stephen’s Green, as an old tradition says. The Green was then outside the city. The spot where he was put to death was, very probably, where Fitzwilliam Street crosses Baggot Street. This was the place where executions took place up to a comparatively late date.
Towards evening it was buried in the ruinous chapel of St. Kevin, which is close by.’ Many miracles are said to have been wrought at this tomb, and in consequence the old church has been restored, and a road has been opened up for the people who frequent the place in great numbers, and are wont to commend themselves to the intercession and prayers of the holy martyr.
There is confirmation of the first part of Rothe’s narrative in a letter written from Paris by two Irish priests, in the interval between the first time O’Hurley was put to the torture and his death, to Cardinal De Como, Cardinal Protector of Ireland, written by Fr. William Nugent and Fr. Barnaby Geoghan”
Some Protestant writers denied the O’Hurley incident of torture. They have written their propaganda.
De shliocht Dháiví thóg Dia suas slánaitheoir d’Isráél, Íosa (13:13-25)
(From David’s descendants God raised up Isreal’s Saviour, Jesus.)
Nuair a sheol Pól, agus an méid a bhí ina chuideachta, ó Pafós, tháinig siad go Peirge na Paimfilia. Ach d’fhág Eoin iad, agus d’fhill sé go larúsailéim. Ach ar dhul trí Peirge dóibhsean, tháinig siad go dtí Aintíoc na Pisidia; agus ar dhul isteach sa tsionagóg dóibh ar an tsabóid, shuigh siad síos. Agus I ndiaidh léamh an dlí agus na bhfáithe, chuir uachtarán na sionagóige scéala chucu, ag rá: `A fheara, agus a bhráithre, má tá focal ar bith teagaisc agaibh don phobal, labhraígí.’Ach d’éirigh Pól, thug comhartha dóibh lena láimh a bheith ina dtost, agus dúirt: `A fheara Isráél, agus sibhse a bhfuil eagla Dé ionaibh, éistigí. Rinne Dia mhuintir Isráél ár n-aithreacha a thoghadh, agus d’ardaigh sé an pobal nuair a bhí siad ina gcónaí i dtír na hÉigipte, agus threoraigh sé amach as sin iad Ie láimh ard. Agus ar feadh daichead bliain d’fhulaing sé a mbéasa san bhfásach. Agus nuair a scrios sé seacht gcine i dr Chanáin, roinn sé a dtalamh le crannchur eatarthu go ceann tuairim agus ceithre chéad go leith de bhlianta; agus ina dhiaidh sin thug sé breithiúna dóibh go d Samuél, fáidh. Agus ansin d’iarr siad rí, agus thug Dia dóibh Sól, mac Chis, fear de threibh Bheiniaimin, daichead bliain. Agus nuair a thóg sé eisean uathu, d’ardaigh sé Dáiví ina rí dóibh, agus rinne sé fianaise dósan, agus dúirt: “Fuair mé Dáiví, mac lése, fear de réir mo chroí féin, a dhéanfaidh mo thoil go hiomlán.” Dá shliocht seo thóg Dia suas, de réir an ghealitanais, slánaitheoir d’Isráél, íosa. Agus roimh a theacht sheanmóir Eoin ar dtús baisteadh aithrí do phobal Isráél go léir. Agus nuair a bhí Eoin ag críochnú a sheala, dúirt sé: “An té a shíleann sibh gur mé, ní mise é, ach féach, tá neach ag teacht i mo dhiaidh, nach fiú mé bróga a chos a scaoileadh”.
PSALM LE FREAGRA (Sm 88:2-3. 21-22. 25.27. Fr v. 2)
Freagra; Canfaidh mé de shíor faoi do bhuanghrá, a Thiarna.
( I will sing for ever of Your enduring love o Lord )
Canfaidh mé de shíor faoi do bhuanghrá, a Thiarna; fógróidh mé do dhílseacht ó ghlúin go glúin. Oir daingníodh do bhuanghrá go síoraí, agus tá do dhílseacht chomh buan leis na flaithis.
Freagra;
Fuair mé Dáiví, mo ghiolla: rinne mé é a ungadh le m’ola naofa ionas go mbeadh mo lámh leis de shíor, is go neartódh mo chuisle é. (Fr)
Freagra;
Beidh mo dhílseacht leis is mo bhuanghrá; agus i m’ainmse is ea a ardófar a neart.
Déarfaidh sé liom: `Is tú m’athair, is tú mo Dhia agus carraig mo shlánaithe.’ (Fr)
`Is mise an t-aoire maith,’ a deir an Tiarna.`Aithním mo chaoirigh féin, agus aithníonn mo chaoirigh féin mé.’ (Eoin 10:14)
Alleluia!
Sliocht as an Soiscéal naofa de réir Naomh Eoin
An té a ghlacann aon duine a chuirfidh mise uaim, is mise a ghlacann sé. (13:16-20)
(The one who accepts any person whom I send, accepts me)
Tar éis d’íosa cosa na ndeisceabal a ní, dúirt sé leo: Amen, Amen, a deirim Iibh, níl aon seirbhíseach níos mó ná a mháistir, ná níl aspal níos mó ná an té a chuir uaidh é. Má tá a fhios agaibh na nithe sin, is méanar daoibh má dhéanann sibh iad. Nílim ag labhairt oraibh go léir, óir aithním na daoine a thogh mé, ach chun go gcómh¬líonfaí an scrioptúr: “An té a d’ith arán liom, d’árdaigh sé a sháil i mo choinne.” `Táim á insint sin daoibh anois roimh ré sula dtarlaíonn sé, i dtreo, nuair a tharlaíonn sé, go gcreidfidh sibh gur mise é.
Amen, Amen, a deirim libh, an té a ghlacann aon duine a chuirfidh mise uaim, is mise a ghlacann sé; agus an té a ghlacann mise, glacann sé an té a chuir uaidh mé.’
Soiscéal an Tiarna.
Moladh duit, a Chriost
Fóclóirín: an t-Aoire Maith/(the Good Shepherd), na ndeisceabal/(the disciples), méanar/(fortunate), aithním/(I recognise), a thogh/(chose), gcómh-líonfaí/(fulfil), dtarlaíonn/( happens), gcreidfidh/(believe)
Nb* much of the material contained here is distilled from the Book, Pilgrims and Prophets by Edmund Cullinan, with some artistic licence employed.
St. Patrick (385-461 A.D.) is the patron of Ireland sent by mandate from Pope Celestine I (422-432 A.D.) to convert the Irish. Yet somehow, Ireland developed a monastic model of Christianisation, with her own Celtic Easter calendar instead of the usual Roman system established in Europe… How can this be, if much of the rest of Europe under the same Catholic church used a diocesan model under the Roman Easter Calendar?
Well lets go back in time! St. Patrick, after his capture and life of slavery in Ireland, returns to the Britons in the territory where he grew up; lets call his birth place Minor Britain, distinct from Great Britain. Back home again, Patrick then feels called to come back to the Irish in a dream. So in order to respond generously, he decides to follow his vocation and become a priest with a view of going to Rome to seek permission for an apostolic mandate to Ireland. He first travels south to the Lérins Island in Province in the south of France. There he becomes a monk for fourteen years under the abbot of St. Germanus of Auxerre. It was St. Germanus who send Patrick on to Rome.
Lérins island is key to understanding Ireland’s monastic and Celtic Easter tradition. The monastery of Lérins was established by St. Honoratus (350-430). His rule was chiefly borrowed from that of St. Pachomius from Egypt (290-348 A.D.), who is the founding father of cenobitic monasticism. It is also at Lérins where we find a strong Johannine apostolic influence. The Johannine tradition spreads via the sea trading links among the Greek speaking communities along the Mediterranean coasts, in places like Marseille, Nice and Lyons. St. Irenaeus (130-202 A.D.) came from Smyrna to become bishop of Lyons. He was a disciple of St. Polycarp (69-155 A.D.) who was a disciple of St. John the Apostle. Now Lyons is about 300km from Marseille on the French coast, and the coastal town of Marseille to Lérins island is about 175km. St. Honoratus received his early formation at Marseille.
St. Honoratus is thus soaked up in monasticism and the Johannine apostolic influence, which is adopted by St. Patrick in his formation at Lérins. For the Easter Calender it means that the calculus for the Celtic Easter was determined by the Julian Calender, while the Roman church held to the Gregorian which we have today. The Celtic Easter calculated aligning more with the Jewish Passover.
It was first of all, St. Molaise of Leighlin, then St. Eunan, and finally St. Malachy whom broke from the Celtic Easter traditions and they brought the Irish Catholics into full conformity with the Roman Catholic customs, They made use of the Gregorian calendar for calculating the Easter dates, which fell on the first Vernal Moon after 21st of March as established by the Council of Nicea.
First of all… Fr. John Sullivan “Santo Subito!”. For if there is anyone in Ireland that meets the criteria for canonisation, it is Fr. Sullivan. All other potentials, be they Frank Duff, Fr. Peyton or Fr. Willie Doyle maybe worthy causes, but Fr. John Sullivan has attested miracles on tap! What more do we need. Lets look at his story.
John Sullivan was born into a wealthy Protestant family in 1861 at Eccles Street, Dublin 8. His mother Elizabeth was a Catholic from Cork, and his father Edward was a protestant. The norm in those times for mixed marriages was to have the boys follow their father’s religion while the girls followed their mother’s. Thus John was baptised in the Church of Ireland parish of St. George on Temple Street. The family moved to Fitzwilliam Place, where they were to remain. Edward became Lord Chancellor and the family lived very comfortably.
In 1872, John went to Portora Royal School, Enniskillen. His name is inscribed on the Royal Scholars Honours Board in Steele Hall. After Portora, he went to Trinity College, Dublin, where he was awarded the Gold Medal in the study of Classics in 1885.
At the same time, John stopped attending church after the sudden death of his father. He lived comfortably from his inheritance, and was a likeable character. He was filled with out doors activities from cycling to mountaineering. He made important friends and was considered wise in judgement even in political circles. The women saw in him an elegible bacholar.
Nobody suspected his strong interior religious inclinations. He had a great love for the story of the conversion of St. Augustine. He had a growing like for the Catholic faith, that while hidden from public, did reveal itself from time to time while away in Kerry. He took an interest in Butlers lives of the Saints. In December 1896, at the age of 35, John was recieved into the Catholic Church in Farm Street, London. On learning this, his family were shell shocked, as they had no idea of his spiritual inclinations. For all intensive puroposes, John was a good ole boy, and a model protestant. Among the protestant community, there were mixed views, from anger to acceptance.
John’s life was to change as he became more active in his faith, doing good works and becoming more penetential. He volunteered some time to hospital and hospice visits, and helping the religious sisters at the convents. He was not shy of doing domestic work. John worked hard, even into the night.
In 1900 John entered the Jesuit novitiate in Tullabeg, Co. Offaly. His novitiate, lasted two years when he then took his first vows before going to St. Mary’s Hall, Stonyhurst College, England for further studies. He took his mothers crucifix as his vow crucifix, and this was be used as part of his healing ministry. In 1904 John Sullivan returned to Ireland, and went to Milltown Park for further studies. By 1907 Joh was ordained a priest. Shortly afterwards, he paid a visit to the Royal Hospital for Incurables, at Donnybrook. John gave many patients his blessing. He was visited a female patient, suffering from lupus in the head. She was already selected to be placed in a mental hospital. He prayed with the female patient for a good while. The next day her mind was completely restored of her mental health.
John was soon afterwards appointed to the staff in Clongowes Wood College, Co. Kildare, and it was here he was to spend the bulk of the rest of his life. The school marked a new chapter in his life.
He was not knowing for his teaching ability, but rather for his clever sensitivity when students were not engaging in educational activity. He was considered a good sport, by students who recognised their narrow escapes from trouble. He would remind them on moments where they had a close brush up with a stern teacher, that they should use their wit to do something useful and good, instead of engaging in useless mischief. Such timely advice gave the students a sense of shame, with a chance to remedy themselves. Fr. Sullivan was an ascetic priest, He would sleep on the floor, deny himself a full sleep, ate simple food, put stones in his boots, he prayed often.
He often attended the sick around Clongowes college, by foot or bicycle. He would visit hospitals, and send letters of consolation. He often heard confessions by the church near Clongowes. People came a great distant to confess their sins. People trusted in the power of his intercessory prayers, and many cure have been attributed to him.
An extraordinary case is recorded whereby a religious sister who suffered a serious accident resulting the need for amputation. A letter was sent to Fr. Sullivan, explaining her grave condition, and about a fever and delirium which had taken hold. The post the next morning at Clongowes, and Fr. John cycled twenty miles to the hospital that afternoon. He sought for the patient’s room and gave himself to prayer by her bedside. After a some lenght, the nun’s restless tossing quietened, and the delirium ceased.
Fr Sullivan’s was gifted with prescience. One example, was of a daughter of a local family situated near Clongowes. Her father was at an advanced aged and had been sick for some time, but nothing that seemed life threatening. Fr Sullivan called over to the family unexpectedly surprising them when he asked to see the ailing father privately in his room, presumably for confession. The family would hear Fr. Sullivan parting words saying, ‘My good man, you will be with God tonight.’ The father died peacefully very soon after.
Fr Sullivan was rector of Rathfarnham Castle from 1919. It was a place of eupllementary studies for Jesuits attending college. This era of Fr. John’s life was politically fraught, as Ireland wrestled its freedom from British Rule. Rathfarnham castle would through no fault of his own, be raided by the Black & Tans. It was while at Rathfarnham, Fr. John could meet his siblings regularly.
As the new independent Ireland emerged, Fr. John returned to Clongowes as a member of the teaching staff with the task of forming new leaders for the country. Kevin O’Higgins was one such student who later as a political leader, he was assassinated in 1927, sending shock waves around the country.
In 1928, a nephew of the assassinated general Michael Collins, by the same name, required the prayers of Fr. Sullivan. The infant Michael, suffered infantile paralysis, with his leg bent as he suffered intense pain. Young Michael’s mother, Mrs Collins, received a postcard from Fr Sullivan stating that he visited her child Michael who was by now going home and well. The nun at the hospital had taken the infant out of bed, and to her astonishment he kicked his leg while bathing him, as he appeared now quite normal. His trouble never recurred.
Another well attested ‘cures’ happned over the Christmas of 1932, just before Fr. Sullivan died. A young married woman suffered from vomiting. She could not retain food and became emaciated. Her condition beame grave, and she received anointing of the sick prior to Christmas. By the 22nd December, she was losing consciousness when Fr. Sullivan was brought in to pray for her. The young woman seemed reluctant for any spiritual consolation. After Fr. Sullivan’s prayers, she regained some strength. On Christmas Eve, she managed to eat and retain her food. By Christmas day she was eating turkey and ham. Her doctor could not believe it, as she completely recovered.
Edmund was born on June 1st 1762 into a wealthy family and was raised in Callan, Kilkenny. As a Catholic, he attended a commercial academy in Kilkenny after attending secret hedge schooling. It was the practice to have wealthy Catholics to receive such schooling in the penal times. Afterwards, in 1779 Edmund began his apprenticeship as a merchant under his uncle, Michael Rice in Waterford city. They would supply goods bound for the New World in north America. In his late twenties, his entrepreneurial skills brought him financial success. The scene seemed set for a comfortable life, as he settled down to start a family.
In 1785 Edmund married Mary Elliot. But after just three years of marriage, Mary died after giving birth to her disabled daughter, also called Mary. Edmund’s world was turned upside down, and his life was to take a radical direction after much personal reflection. From this crisis, Edmund discovered a special vocation; to provide dignity to the poor through education. It was the start of the seed for the foundation of the Christian brothers.
Realising the effects that poverty and deprivation had on the young people of Waterford, Edmuns sold off his business interests and started a school for poor boys in a converted stable. It happened in 1802, and Edmund was joined by Thomas Grosvener and Patrick Finn, as the three began to live a form of community life in rooms over the Stable School in New Street.
Edmund desired a fully-fledged Religious Congregation, the Christian Brothers to be. It would be governed by traditional vows and recognised by the Holy See in Rome. In June 1802 he funded and began building a monastery in a working-class district in Waterford City. The building, was large and comprised living accommodation and a school. The school at Mount Sion was to accommodate a high student to teacher rate proportion. One Christian Brother taught a class of almost one hundred students while older boy acted as ‘monitors’, examining the homework and helping with catechism. The school boys were taught reading, writing, arithmetic and religion. The more senior pupils studied bookkeeping, geography and navigation. All the students received special preparation for first Holy Communion and Confirmation.
At Mount Sion Edmund built a school bakery and tailor’s shop. His poor students were hungry, so the bake house provided them with a meal giving them the energy to do their school work. The students suffered from the cold, due to scanty clothing. Tailors were employed to make uniforms for the boys.
All of Edmund’s educational activities were illegal in the eyes of the ‘authorities’ in Ireland at the time. But Edmund’s concern was for the poor, and he identified education as the key to survival. Most Irish Catholics were effectively cut off from education and consequently cut off from social and political progress. By founding schools and teaching congregations, Edmund Rice became a social liberator for the poor Catholics.
In the words of eyewitnesses Edmund’s devotion to the Blessed Sacrament was intense. He received Holy Communion very frequently. When he founded his congregation he encouraged the Brothers to assist at Mass daily. It was at prayer before the Blessed Sacrament that Edmund got the courage and confidence in God to face all difficulties.
1838 Edmund Rice retired as Superior General of his now established Christian Brother Order. He was 76 years of age and suffering from painful arthritis. Edmund spent the last two years confined to his room. In his lucid moments he loved to read the Bible and prayer remained central to his life. Edmund died on Thursday, 29th August 1844. He was buried at Mount Sion in the heart of Waterford city.
The church venerates Blessed Edmund Rice on the 5th of May
An Chéad Léacht Sliocht as leabhar Exodus (32:7-14) Ná tabhair an drochíde seo ar do phobal. (Don’t maltreat your people in this way)
Dúirt an Tiarna le Maois: Síos leat! óir an pobal sin agat a thug tú amach ó thír na hÉigipte, thruaillíodar iad féin. Is luath atá siad imithe i leataobh ón mbealach a d’ordaigh mé dóibh, rinneadar lao de mhiotal leáite dóibh féin agus d’adhradar é agus rinneadar íobairt dó, agus ceanndáine “Seo é do Dhia, a Isráél, a thug thú amach as tír na hÉigipte”.”Is léir dom,’ arsa an Tiarna le Maois,a cheanndáine mar phobal an pobal seo! Lig dom anois más ea agus lasfaidh m’fhearg ina gcoinne, á ndísciú; tusa, ámh, déanfaidh mé náisiún mór díot.’ Ach chrom Maois ar ghuí chuig an Tiarna a Dhia: A Thiarna,’ ar sé,cén fáth go lasfadh d’fhearg i gcoinne do phobail féin, an pobal a thug tú amach as tír na hÉigipte Ie mórchumhacht agus le láimh thréan? Cén fáth é a thabhairt le rá do na hEigiptigh: “I bhfeall a thug sé amach iad, d’fhonn iad a mharú sna sléibhte agus iad a scrios de chlár na cruinne!” Scaoil uait d’fhearg cuthaigh, agus scor den drochíde seo a thabhairt ar do phobal. Cuimhnigh ar Abráhám, ar Ísác agus ar Isráél, do shearbhóntaí, dár mhionnaigh tú dar tú féin agus dár gheall tú: “Déanfaidh mé bhur síol chomh fionmhar le réaltaí neimhe, agus an tír seo go léir a gheall mé, tabharfaidh mé do bhur sliocht é agus beidh sé ina seilbh acu go síoraí”.’ Bhog an Tiarna dá bhrí sin, agus níor thug sé ar a phobal an drochíde a bhagáir sé.
SALM LE FREAGRA. (Sm 105:19-23. Fr v. 4) Freagra; Cuimhnigh orm, a Thiarna, i do chineáltas do phobal (Remember me, O Lord, out of the love you have for Your people)
I.Rinneadar lao ag Hóréb, agus d’adhradar í déanta de mhiotal leáite; mhalartaíodar glóir Dé ar íomhá tairbh a itheann féar. Freagra;
2.Thugadar i ndíchuimhne Dia, a Slánaitheoir, a bhí tar éis éachtaí a dhéanamh san Éigipt, míorúiltí i dtír Cham, gníomhartha uamhnacha cois na Mara Rua. (Freagra;
3.Agus bhí sé ag smaoineamh ar iad a scrios, murach gur sheas Maois, a fhear tofa, sa bhearna ina choinne chun a fhearg a iompú uathu sula scriosfadh sé iad. Freagra;
COMHGHÁIR Sagairt Glan mo chroí agus mo bheola, a Dhia uilechumhachtaigh, chun go mbeidh mé in ann do Shoiscéal a fhógairt mar is dual.
SOSCÉAL
Glóir duit, a Chríost: is tú Briathar Dé! ‘Déanaigí aithrí,’ a deir an Tiarna, ‘mar tá ríocht na bhflaitheas in achmaireacht.’ Glóir duit, a Chríost: is tú Briathar Dé! Go raibh an Tiarna libh. Agus le do spiorad. Sliocht as an Soiscéal Naofa de réir Naomh Eoin Glóir duit, a Thiarna.
Tá duine do bhur gcúisiú—Maois, an té a bhfuil muinín agaibh. (5:31-47) (There is one who accuses you – Moses in who you have faith)
San am sin dúirt Íosa leis na Giúdaigh:Da dtabharfainn fianaise orm féin, ní bheadh m’fhianaise iontaofa. Tá neach eile ann a thugann fianaise orm, agus tá a fhios agam gur iontaofa an fhianaise a thugann sé orm. Chuir sibh teachtairí ag triall ar Eoin agus thug sé fianaise ar an bhfírinne. Ní hé go nglacaimse fianaise ó dhaoine, ach tá na nithe seo á rá agam chun go slánófaí sibh. Lóchrann ar lasadh agus ag taitneamh ab ea é siúd, agus níor mhiste libhse ar feadh tamaill áthas a fháil ina sholas. Ach tá fianaise agamsa is mó ná fianaise Eoin. Óir na hoibreacha a thug m’athair dom le déanamh, na hoibreacha sin féin a dhéanaim, tugann siad fianaise gur chuir an tAthair uaidh mé. An tAthair féin a chuir uaidh mé, thug sé fianaise orm. Níor chuala sibh riamh a ghuth, ná ní fhaca sibh a dheilbh, agus níl a bhriathar agaibh ag lonnú ionaibh, mar ní chreideann sibh sa té a chuir seisean uaidh.Déanann sibh na scrioptúir a spíonadh agus is iadsan atá ag tabhairt fianaise i mo thaobhsa, ach ní háil libh teacht chugam i dtreo go mbeadh beatha agaibh. Ní ghabhaim glóir ó dhaoine. Ach tá aithne agam oraibh, nach bhfuil grá Dé agaibh ionaibh. Tháinig mise in ainm m’Athar, agus ní ghlacann sibh mé; má thagann duine eile ina ainm féin, glacfaidh sibh eisean.`Conas a b’fhéidir daoibh creidiúint, agus glóir á glacadh agaibh óna chéile gan aon lorg agaibh ar an nglóir a thagann ó Dhia amháin. Ná measaigí go bhfuilim chun sibh a chúisiú i láthair an Athar; tá duine do bhur gcúisiú-Maois, an té a bhfuil muinín agaibh as. Dá gcreidfeadh sibh Maois, chreidfeadh sibh mise, óir is i mo thaobhsa a scríobh seisean. Mura gcreideann sibh a scríbhinní-sean, conas a chreidfidh sibh mo bhriatharsa?
Soiscéal an Tiarna.
Freagra; Moladh duit, a Chríost.
Foclóirín: fianaise/ (evidence), iontaofa / (dependable), teachtairí/ (messengers), ar an bhfírinne/ (on the truth), go nglacaimse/ (that I accept), Lóchrann ar lasadh/ ( a lantern lighting), dheilbh / (appearance), chreideann/ (believe), spíonadh/ (exhaust,) Dá gcreidfeadh/ (believed)
St Gobnait lived in the 6th century and she is mentioned in the Life of St Abbán. There are two extant versions of St. Abbán’s Life 1) Vita Sancti Abbani and 2) Betha Abáin). Now in the area of Muscraige, Abbán, a male saint built his foundation, then called ‘Huisneach’, presently called Ballyvourney (Baile Bhuirne = Town of the Beloved). St. Abbán then surrendered his Huisneach monastery to the virgin St Gobnait.
St Gobnait is referred to in the Martyrology of Tallaght, and the Book of Leinster as well as the Martyrology of Gorman. The Martyrology of Oengus mentions Gobnat from Muscraige Mitaine, as a sharp-beaked nun. The calendar of Cashel, makes references to her as being a nun of aristocratic lineage. Patterns are held in her honour on her feast day in Kerry. The term “pattern” (deriving from “patron”) refers to rituals of devotion.
Gobnait’s story
This female saint was kind and generous with the poor to a fault; at a very young age, she took meat from her father’s table to give to the needy. Her father strongly objected to such practices. One day he figured he caught Gobnait in the act of subtly spiriting away food in a basket. He demanded to know what she was carrying. Her hand was forced, but when she opened her basket, her father found it full of flowers instead of the expected meat. It was one of those miracles, lucky for the young Gobnait.
Tradition holds that Gobnait sought refuge on the Aran islands, away from some family feuding in Co. Clare. She travelled to the island of Inis Oírr, the smallest Island. Today it is host a small ruin church called Kilgobnet (Cill Ghobnait = Gobnait’s Church). On Inis Oírr, an angel appeared to Gobnait and instructed her to leave for the mainland. She would find her resting place when she would find nine white deer grazing at the place of her resurrection. Gobnait travelled south of the country and leaving her mark throughout Munster. Her name and appellations abound in the form of Deborah (Hebrew for bees), Derivla, Abigail and Abby.
St. Gobnait stopped in Co. Waterford for example. In the parish of Kilgobnet. Here we can find a medieval church dedicated to her and a holy well formerly called Tobergobnet. St. Gobnait later made her way to West Muskerry in Co. Cork looking for the white deer. She found three white deer near Clondrohid, and six deer in the townland of Killeen. Alas in God’s time, she found the nine white deer together, as prophesised by the angel. They were grazing in Ballyvourney. St. Gobnet settled in a place along the River Sullane, a tributary river that begins in the rock of the Derrynasaggart (oak of the priest) mountains.
Traditions abounds about St. Gobnet and her nuns at Ballyvourney. For example, an imposter tried to build a castle in the glen to lay claim to the valley. Gobnet resisted him, by throwing a stone ball at his construction site knocking down the rising walls. The ball returned to Gobnet like a boomerang; eventually the imposter tired of his wily schemes, went away empty handed; the miraculous stone ball is still venerated at Ballyvourney.
We have another anecdote of a robber who came to herd away all the Ballyvourney people’s cattle. Now St. Gobnet was an experienced bee-keeper and she set her bees on the robber who fled for his life empty handed. Each of Gobnait’s bee turned into an armed soldier in defence of the vulnerable cattle. From such traditions, St. Gobnet is represented in art as a bee keeper, or beachaire in Irish. Honey and beeswax were co-natural goods to the native Irish during St Gobnait’s epoch. The Beeswax came in handy for candle making for the church. Honey is sweet and used in the making of mead, a popular Celtic drink. Honey also has healing properties and St Gobnait used honey for this reason. Raw honey, for example has antibacterial properties and promotes wound healing.
Another anecdote on the saint is that she held back the plague spreading into the district, by her prayers and by drawing a line in the valley; the local inhabitants did not have problems with the plague as a result. If illness did surface, Gobnait proved a good nurse. One of her nuns was unwell and Mother Gobnait took her to a quiet corner of the glen to recuperate. Gobnait prayed that no noise or disturbance would upset the nun. To this day Ballyvourney is a very tranquil place even when the country is beset by storms and thunder…
Today, a short distance south of the village of Ballyvourney is an early medieval ecclesiastical site featuring a late medieval parish church (Teampall Ghobnatan), surrounded by an enclosed graveyard (Reilg Ghobnatan) believed to mark St Gobnait’s final resting place. Across the road from the graveyard is a stone-built circular hut structure approximately 10m in diameter. It is called St Gobnait’s House or St Gobnait’s Kitchen.
Her house was excavated in 1951 by MJ O’Kelly, Professor of Archaeology at University College Cork. The excavation also revealed numerous iron-smelting and metal-working pits, crucibles and large amounts of charcoal and slag waste from the iron smelting. Gobnait is the patron saint of ironworkers. Her name combines the pet name Gobba, which derives from “gobha” or “gabha” meaning “smith”, and the feminine suffix -nait/-naid.
St Gobnait’s medieval wooden statue
Significantly, a 13th or 14th-century wooden statue of the saint is presently kept in Ballyvourney. A rare artefact, made of oak, it is 690mm tall, which is about the height of your kitchen chair. It is hollowed out from behind, a common feature of medieval wooden statues. The face is now featureless. Her left arm is folded across her chest and her right hand is by her side. The wooden statue is safely stored in the Catholic parish church in Ballyvourney and is put on display twice a year: 11 February and Palm Sunday.
We celebrate St. Gobnait’s feast day on 11th February
It is a challenge to pin point accuracy on this saint. Authorities on Irish ecclesiastical history generally agree, that the patron saint of Limerick is Munchin, son of Sedna. It seems his parentage connects him by birth, with the district of Luiminech, which is Limerick today in its anglicised form. St. Munchin belonged to the royalty of North Munster. He was regarded as a tutelary saint of the Thomond O’Briens. But there are conflicting expositions on Munchin’s lineage… So, if we leave the parental lineage out, we can get a semblance of concrete truth on who St. Munchin became, without fully grasping who he originally was.
St. Munchin (meaning little monk) is considered bishop and founder the see of Limerick with his Cathedral, named after him. St. Munchin prophesised about Limerick saying, ‘’ the stranger [the danes] would flourish and the native [the Gaels] would perish.’’ Limerick came to prominence after the Danes landed there around the early 800s. Limerick having a reputed bishop so early as the 7th century, is anecdotal evidence that it was a place of importance.
Munchin is attributed with founding a church called Cill Mainchín on Inis Sibhton. It was at this island foundation, that Limerick as a city would eventually grow and expand from. He also founded a church on the island of Fidh-Inis, on the large estuary where the river Fergus meets the river Shannon. St. Munchin is believed to have been involved with another monastery at Mungret. This monastery may have been first founded by St. Patrick, and St. Nessan may have been the first Abbot there. But St. Munchin in the due course would likely have replaced St. Nessan, becoming the succeeding Abbot. This Mungret monastery at one time, contained 1,500 monks according to local tradition. According to another tradition, little Kilrush is said to have been built by Rose, a sister of St. Munchin. Again, the Church of Killeely, in a parish of the same name, was dedicated to Lelia, also considered to have been a sister to St. Munchin.
In the catalogue of Irish Saints, published by O’Sullivan Beare, our Limerick Saint is set down as Munchinus, with his feast day on the 1st of January. The martyrologies of Oengus, Tallaght and Gorman all mention Munchin, who is also described as “the Wise”, and they place his feast day on the 2nd of January.
The church in Ireland celebrates St. Munchin on the 3rd of January.
St. Lawrence was Archbishop of Dublin during the incursion of Ireland by King Henry II. The Irish saint is highly honoured in Normandy, France, where he died in exile…
Laurence O’Toole was born in 1128 at Castle-Dermot, Co. Kildare. His father Maurice O’Toole, was King of Hy Murray. He lent his ten-year-old son and princes, as a token of security to the King of Leinster, Dermot McMurrough. This Leinster king treated poor Lawrence badly. He put the young prince in chains in a place of isolation, with cold comforts. Prince Lawrence found himself an oppressed pauper which lasted two years. The young hostage prince was eventually released after two years by the cruel Leinster King. Soon enough though, the same cruel Dermot McMurrough, gave King Henry II a foothold on Ireland.
For now, Lawrence found himself safe in waiting at St. Kevin’s monastery of Glendalough, with a view to be collected by his father and King Maurice. While still waiting at Glendalough, the young prince soon fell in love with the monastic life and developed a life of prayer. His two-year previous experience as a hostage, helped him to see that wealth and power were not the end all and be all. Lawrence felt a closeness to the benevolent God at Glendalough. So, he requested his father’s permission to remain there, to become a monk, and King Maurice O’Toole consented. Lawrence progressed well in religious life and by the age of twenty-five, he became the Abbot of Glendalough. As superior, he encouraged the monks in deeper learning. Charity for the poor was to be their breastplate. During a local famine for example, Laurence sold some treasures to provide relief for the hungry.
Appointment as Archbishop of Dublin.
Soon after the synod of Kells of 1152, Laurence was appointed in 1162 as the Archbishop of Dublin. One of his first task was to encourage the laity in the practice of the faith, and to become true disciples of Jesus. He brought in monks to Dublin from France, and they lived in the Holy Trinity Church, which was later renamed Christchurch Cathedral after it fell into protestant hands. This missionary effort by the most rev. Lawrence, helped many people to come back to the Sacraments. He continued in his care for the poor, as well as homeless children. He took them into his house, and they shared meals at his table. The most rev. Lawrence was a man of prayer, and when he got an opportunity, he loved to go to Glendalough and retreat at a lakeside hermitage which could be reached only by boat.
The Archbishop of Dublin, participated at the Third Lateran Council in Rome in 1179, with some other Irish bishops. The Pope, Alexander III, was aware that Ireland had been undergoing political upheaval with destabilizing effects. He was aware that the quality of the practice of the Catholic faith had deteriorated. The pope therefore gave Laurence the task of reforming and improving the Church in Ireland.
Suing for peace
The Normans landed in Ireland in 1169, thanks in no small part to the cruel King Dermot McMurrough. By 1170, King Henry II’s under lord, Strongbow besieged Dublin. Laurence became a peace envy, and he met Strongbow looking to establish a settlement. During the peace talks however, the Normans continued their besiege of the city. There was looting and killing of citizens. Thanks to Laurence’s efforts the lives of many were saved.
The Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Becket was already murdered under the reign of Henry II in 1170. As archbishop, St. Lawrence would visit England in his endeavour to promote peace. In 1175 he became one of the signatories of the Treaty of Windsor, between England’s King Henry II and Ireland’s High King, Roderic O’Connor. But a few years after Windsor, another dispute erupted between the Henry II and the Irish Kings. In the spring of 1180, Laurence took the mantle of peace envoy again, returning to England. King, Henry II, had by now little time for bishops. Henry II wanted rid of the Irish archbishop and ordered him in exile to Britany, France.
Death in exile of an Irish archbishop
In the same year, Laurence became gravely ill and on 14th November 1180, at the age of 52, he died at Eu in Normandy at a monastery there. Laurence was later formerly canonized a saint in 1225. He is remembered in the liturgical calendar in Ireland on the 14th November.
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