Carmelite Monastery of St Joseph, Kilmacud - Sisters' Reflections

  We come to the end of the month in which we remember our beloved dead. This year it was very real for us as we journeyed with our sister during her final days on earth. Sr. Majella completed her particular journey and passed from this world on 18th November. The month was full of anniversaries for her – her entrance into Carmelite life, her Solemn Profession and her birthday. The latter she celebrated in heaven. As we watched and waited with Sr. Majella on the final days of her life many questions were running through my head and I am sure different questions for each of us. The rhythm of life seemed to slow down as the focus of our attention was on that awesome journey that Majella was making. Yes, we prayed but then fell silent. The nurses and health care assistants made her as comfortable as possible. We reassured her that we were with her and would not leave her. Sr. Majella would have been aware of the words of Pope Benedict when he spoke about the final encounter with Chris

In recent weeks here in Kilmacud Carmel, we have been gradually replacing old power-hungry light bulbs with new lower-energy LED bulbs. Many people we know are doing the same. It is part of our attempt towards sustainability and reducing our carbon footprint. We hope that our efforts will have an impact, albeit small, towards protecting our world, our “common home”. This week on the feast of All Carmelite Saints, our chaplain told us of the story of a little boy who was asked “what is a saint?” and his reply, inspired by the stained-glass windows in the church was: “someone who lets the light shine through them”. We know that the Gospel exhorts us Christians to let our light shine in the world and not to hide it under a bushel and this message has been the inspiration towards many songs. One popular children’s song goes: “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine… let it shine….” We all know ordinary people – not canonised by the Church – who were and are shining lights in

On November 8, we celebrate the Feast of St. Elizabeth of the Trinity who was a Carmelite nun at Dijon in France. Born Elizabeth Catez in 1880, she had one younger sister Marguerite, known as Guite. When the little girls were aged 4 and 7 their father died suddenly, as the result of a heart attack, and some time afterwards their mother enrolled them both in the Dijon Conservatoire to study music. Elizabeth began her studies there when she was 8. If God had not called her to Carmel she might well have been a celebrated concert pianist. When she was thirteen she won first prize f or her playing, having already won first prize for theory of music. The following year she won the much coveted Prize of Excellence for piano, but already her heart was set on God. Elizabeth had a natural capacity for contemplative prayer. Long before she entered Carmel she had an intense awareness that she was living in God’s presence. Elizabeth’s deep prayer animated her and she became actively involved in

    My mother often told me as a  child that we are each born with a mission.  You have something to do for God that only you can do. No one else can fill your space. She was a wise deep little woman and how right she was comes home to me when I hear St. Teresa speaking of the dignity and beauty of every single person made in the image and likeness of God. He dwells within us. If only we could grasp how precious each of us is in His sight – with what tenderness He bends over each one of us. St. John Henry Newman had a sense of it in his beautiful prayer. The mission of my life   God has created me to do Him   some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life but I shall be told it in the next.   I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work.   I shall be an angel of peace, while not intending it i