A Remarkable ViewOne could be forgiven for thinking this the portrait of a languid lady bored with her needlework yet not quite having the energy to pick up a book, preferring instead to daydream. In fact it is the right half of Read More
A SignCzeslaw Milosz, the Polish poet, once referred to his cousin Oscar as ‘a man who taught me not to despair’. He went on: ‘I learned much from him. He gave me a deeper insight into the religion of the Old Read More
Alight‘The formative impact over time of praying day and night in a Cistercian church comes from the interplay of light and shadow. The world we have made full of glaring lights and those maddening fixtures that switch themselves on at Read More
A Remarkable ViewOne could be forgiven for thinking this the portrait of a languid lady bored with her needlework yet not quite having the energy to pick up a book, preferring instead to daydream. In fact it is the right half of a large canvas portraying ‘Christ and the Virgin in the House at Nazareth‘. The lady isn’t whiling time away. She is intently watching a young man occupied with handiwork: seated on a stool plaiting a crown of thorns, he has stung his finger, drawing blood. Once you see what the topic is, the lady looks different, full of foreboding. You notice the tears running down her cheek. This painting, which belongs to the Cleveland Museum of Art, is now on display in the National Gallery’s wonderful exhibition Zurbarán. Few painters affect me as deeply. As Charlotte Higgins wrote in a review: ‘It’s impossible not to think about the very act of painting when looking at this work. Painting as an act of devotion, wonder and prayer. Painting as a means of seeing the divine. Painting as a way of imparting visions that hover between the real and the unreal, the illusory and the tangible.’
A SignCzeslaw Milosz, the Polish poet, once referred to his cousin Oscar as ‘a man who taught me not to despair’. He went on: ‘I learned much from him. He gave me a deeper insight into the religion of the Old and New Testament and inculcated a need for a strict, ascetic hierarchy in all matters of mind, including everything that pertains to art, where as a major sin he considered putting the second-rate on the same level with the first-rate. Primarily, though, I listened to him as a prophet who loved people’. I thought of that description when yesterday a kind person sent me this poem, appropriate for the time after Pentecost. Czeslaw Milosz wrote it at Berkely in 1961. I suppose he could only frame the aspiration of the final lines because he had somewhere, dimly, already known its fulfilment. https://coramfratribus.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/Milosz-Veni-Creator.mp3
Ciudad SilenciosaToday, on the Day of Pentecost, was broadcast a conversation I was privileged to conduct a few weeks ago with María del Ser for her weekly programme, La Ciudad silenciosa, always worth listening to. María asked what is unique to music as an art form. I stumblingly answered: What is specific to music among the arts? It’s terribly difficult to define! But I do find that music has a singular immediacy. I admit that mine is a subjective judgement. Some people are more susceptible to poetry or the visual arts. But if one is of this particular bent of mind, has that sensibility, music enables an immediacy that I, certainly, don’t find in other arts. I can be affected by them, by all means, but not as viscerally as I am by music. We talked about many things: my experience of hearing Così fan tutte as a child; the excellence of Jan Garbarek; the sublimity and banality of Geirr Tveitt; the inexhaustibility of Beethoven’s Quartets; and the thought behind Coram Fratribus. You can listen to our conversation, in Spanish and English, here. And here‘s the duet from Così. From Hans Memling’s triptych of Five Angels Playing Musical Instruments the Church of Santa Maria la Real, Nájera.
PentecostHomily given at a Mass of Confirmation. Acts 2.1-11: They heard what sounded like a powerful wind. 1 Corinthians 12.3-13: No one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord’, except in the Spirit. John 20.19-23: Peace be with you. Dear friends! For a year you have been getting ready for today. You’ve received instruction. In various ways you’ve taken part in the life of the parish. I hope you’ve acquired new friends. You will receive the sacrament of confirmation on the day of Pentecost. That is fitting. At Pentecost we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. When, in a moment, you kneel to be confirmed with Sacred Chrism I say to you: ‘Be sealed with the Gift of the Holy Spirit!’ Confirmation is like Pentecost in miniature. But what’s it about, really – being ‘sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit’? You have learnt that the Being of God is a mystery. A mystery is something that surpasses our understanding. That’s not to say it is unreasonable. No, human reason reflects our being made in the image of God. The Gospel bids us love the Lord our God ‘with all our mind’. That is something to take seriously. To be a Catholic isn’t about switching off one’s critical faculties. On the contrary, it’s about learning to use them well while recognising that there are some realities we cannot yet entirely grasp. While living in time it’s hard, quite simply, figuring out what eternity is. God became man, the Word became flesh, in order to bring the divine mystery close to us. Jesus shows us the Father (Jn 14.8-9). When he speaks, people say: ‘No one ever talked like this man!’ (Jn 7.46). He does such remarkable things. He restores movement to the lame; the blind get to see; the deaf get to hear. He raises the dead. Women and men who for years have been walking around in a kind of daze become lucid. Jesus enables people to let go of anger, to be reconciled. He can walk into a tense situation and, by his mere presence, create peace. It is good to be where he is. People trek for days in order to attract his attention just for a moment. As long as he is there, it seems obvious who, and what, God is. It doesn’t seem abstract or sentimental to say: ‘God is love.’ Jesus shows us God’s love in a way that is utterly credible. And he says: ‘No one has greater love than one who lays down his life for his friends’ (Jn 15.3). That is what he does at Easter, after instituting the Eucharist as an expression of total dedication. He enters death in order to pass through it. Love is stronger than death (Song of Songs 8.6). Love gives our reason the push it needs to intuit what eternity is. For forty days after the resurrection, Jesus walks in and out among the disciples. He lets them ascertain that what they have experienced is true. It is no dream that Jesus has conquered death. It is perfectly real. At the same time he lets them understand that they must get used to knowing him in a different way. Already for some time he had been speaking about the Spirit that will come. The Spirit will bring truth and consolation. It will make Jesus present. In the Spirit we shall come to be filled with freedom and joy (cf. Jn 15-16). This is how Pentecost is announced. At Pentecost the Spirit is given to the Apostles and, through them, to the whole Church. The Bible describes the Spirit as fire: ‘what seemed like tongues of fire separated and came to rest on the head of each.’ This event has three immediate consequences. First, it makes the Apostles fearless. They tumble down from the Upper Room where they’d tended to huddle since Easter. They go into the streets and squares, no longer frightened of others. Secondly, they’re equipped to make themselves understood. They begin ‘to speak foreign languages’, able, of a sudden, to speak in such a way that they can inform and enrich with their message those who come from other countries, other worlds. Thirdly, they see reality with fresh clarity. It’s impressive to compare Peter’s brave speech on the Day of Pentecost with the story of his doings on Good Friday, when he couldn’t account even for his name and address. The Spirit lets things fall into place. That’s what today’s celebration is about. You who will now be confirmed are also called to turn away from isolation towards fellowship, to communicate meaningfully, to find the key that lets you solve life’s riddle. Tongues of fire will come over you today, less visibly, perhaps, than those that were seen at the first Pentecost, but no less real. Remember: the Spirit is the Spirit of love. Love tends to begin with a sense of falling in love. Most of us will know what it’s like to fall in love. We are living a normal life, minding our own business. We do our homework, go to work, wait for the bus in the rain. We pursue our hobbies: handball, Minecraft, pottery, whatever it may be. We’re largely content and don’t think of ourselves as lacking anything. Then suddenly a person walks into our life who changes everything: suddenly we can’t think of anything other than her or him. All the stuff that, a moment ago, absorbed our time and attention pales into insignificance. The only thing we want is to be near the one we think we might begin to learn to love. From the sweet intoxication of falling in love to the construction of a love that carries there’s quite a way to be travelled. Any couple that’s been married for a while can tell us a thing or two about that. Nonetheless, it matters to keep the first flame alive. Be open then, my friends, to the fire you are about to receive. Let yourselves be enlightened by the fascinating mystery of God. Let his love abide in you. Make it known to others. Amen. Detail from El Greco’s Pentecost.
Alight‘The formative impact over time of praying day and night in a Cistercian church comes from the interplay of light and shadow. The world we have made full of glaring lights and those maddening fixtures that switch themselves on at the merest twitch of a spider, making an option for subdued light impossible, can cause us to forget what it is to be at ease in such in-between-ness. Bright light is not always what is needed to reveal an object’s perfection. The gloss of oriental lacquerware shows to best effect in flickering candlelight; gilded medieval statuary takes for granted the flux of dawn and dusk. In the glare of a spotlight the gold just looks vulgar.’ From Alight with Hidden Glory, published this week.
As we celebrated Pentecost yesterday, we now re-enter Ordinary Time with the celebration of the feast of Mary, Mother of the Church. Mary, Mother of the Church Pray for us 🙏🏻 7 Likes
Today we celebrate the Solemnity of Pentecost - the day when the Holy Spirit descended on the apostles and empowered them to preach the Gospel. Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of Read More 24 Comments
Congratulations tiernan thanks so much for a brilliant weekendCongratulations 🙏🙏Amen
We are delighted to share that Tiernan Burke of Whitechurch will be ordained to the priesthood for the Diocese of Cloyne, tomorrow, Sunday, 24th May, the Feast of Pentecost. The Ordination Mass will take place in St Colman’s Cathedral at 3.00pm, Read More 4 Likes
Photos from Cloyne Diocese's postToday we celebrate the Solemnity of Pentecost - the day when the Holy Spirit descended on the apostles and empowered them to preach the Gospel. Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of Read More 2 Comments
