Marist Messenger

I recall Bishop John Mackey preaching at a priest’s jubilee saying that when he spoke of obedience to young people he got little response, but when he spoke of ‘commitment’ the heads began to nod. It was a word they could relate to, so he could build his message on that positive response. Read more »

A summary of his Homily at Mariazell Shrine, Austria Read more »

Archbishop Dew receives the vows for Consecrated Life of Women living in the world.

On a Sunday in September two women of the Magnificat Community Featherston committed themselves to lives of consecrated chastity as women living in the world. Cecilia Healion and Valerie McTavish took their vows at the parish of St Joseph, Mt Victoria, where both had been parishioners for some years. Read more »

The Messenger-sponsored journalist Kat Walsh reflects on the current preparations for WYD08 and her experience at Cologne in 2005 Read more »

(Second to the Fourteenth centuries) by Professor Jean-Paul Rey-Coquais

In a concern to show the apostolicity of the Church, the legends attribute the first evangelisation of what is now known as Iraq to the apostle Thomas himself, on his way to India; or, more realistically, to Mari, a disciple of Addai, one of the first seventy disciples of Christ, who came to Ctesiphon at the end of the first century or at the beginning of the second century. Addai was said to have been a native of Edessa, to the north of Roman Syria; Christianity in Iraq in fact remained very much linked to Edessa and especially to its neighbour Nisibis, great metropolises of the Syriac region. Read more »

November has some little-known saints whose lives are inspirational. Read more »

By Fr John Kelly, a Cistercian monk of Southern Star Abbey, TakapauSome time ago a sincere Christian lady asked me, what do you mean by `union with God?’ Her question forced me to do some thinking so as to give her a satisfactory reply. In this article I will try to answer this question under three headings. Read more »

by Trish O’Donnell
On a June day in 1942, two priests were cycling in the North Yorkshire countryside. As they ate their packed lunches among the ruins of the Carthusian priory of Mount Grace, they studied the map. They were intrigued by an entry of a chapel ruin nearby and decided to investigate. Scrambling up the steep slope behind the priory, they reached the hill-top, where they found the remains of an old church and abandoned cottage. Their resolve to learn more about the history of the chapel marked the end of its obscurity and would lead to the place of pilgrimage it is today. Read more »

The Federation of Alliances Francaises of New Zealand has announced the award of the John Dunmore Medal 2007 to Kate Martin, Manager of the Pompallier Mission, New Zealand Historic Places Trust, Russell. Read more »

A senior Peter Claver sister and Messenger writers Bro Romuald Gibson fms(above) and Fr Paddy Cahill were honoured in the ACPA Awards Ceremony in Auckland Read more »

Holy Souls
Last week when I visited my parents’ grave I was reminded of the many people who go to their family graves bringing their flowers as a symbol of their love and remembrance. Read more »

A nun walks into Mother Superior’s office and plunks down into a chair.  She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration.

 “What troubles you, Sister?” asks the Mother Superior.  “I thought this was the day you spent with your family.”

 “It was,” sighed the Sister.  “And I went to play golf with my brother.  We try to play golf as often as we can.  You know I was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ.”

 “I seem to recall that,” the Mother Superior agreed.  “So I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?”

 “Far from it,” snorted the Sister.  “In fact, I even took the Lord’s name in vain today!”

 “Goodness, Sister !” gasped the Mother Superior, astonished.”You must tell me all about it!”

 “Well, we were on the fifth tee…and this hole is a monster mother a 540 yard Par 5, with a nasty dogleg left and a hidden green and I hit the drive of my life.  I creamed it.  The sweetest swing I ever made.  And it’s flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted…and it hits a bird in mid-flight not 100 yards off the tee!”

 “Oh my!” commiserated the Mother.  “How unfortunate, but surely that didn’t make you blaspheme, Sister!”

 “No, that wasn’t it,” admitted Sister.  “While I was still trying to fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of the woods, grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!”

 “Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!” sympathized the Mother.
 “But I didn’t, Mother Superior!” sobbed the Sister.  “And I was so proud of myself!  And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his talons !”

 “So that’s when you cursed,” said the Mother with a knowing smile.
 “Nope, that wasn’t it either,” cried the Sister, anguished, “because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches from the cup!”  

 Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, fixed the Sister with a baleful stare and said.

 “You missed the blessed putt, didn’t you?”