Travel: Ireland / Rock of Cashel

The picture below is not mine, but is Devil’s Bit Mountain. The Devil’s bit is that gap in the middle.

Legend has it that Saint Patrick vanquished the devil from a cave. The devil became so infuriated that he took a bite out of the mountain. When he did, he broke a tooth. Being in pain, he spat out the mountain and his tooth. The site of the Rock of Cashel (about 22 miles south of Devil’s Bit Mountain) is the bit of the mountain and the devil’s broken tooth that was spat out. Originally the Rock of Cashel was a castle, but was later donated to the church by someone seeking favor. From there, it was transformed into a great community. It now lays in ruin, but you get an idea of what it once was.

From the website (Source):

Set on a dramatic outcrop of limestone in the Golden Vale, The Rock of Cashel, iconic in its historic significance, possesses the most impressive cluster of medieval buildings in Ireland. Among the monuments to be found there is a round tower, a high cross, a Romanesque chapel, a Gothic cathedral, an abbey, the Hall of the Vicars Choral and a fifteenth-century Tower House.

Originally the seat of the kings of Munster, according to legend St. Patrick himself came here to convert King Aenghus to Christianity (note: this occurred in the year 432 a.d.) Brian Boru was crowned High King at Cashel in 978 and made it his capital.

In 1101 the site was granted to the church and Cashel swiftly rose to prominence as one of the most significant centres of ecclesiastical power in the country.

Apparently, she also gave considerable money.

As with all cities and castles, it was built on a hill to give a commanding view of the surrounding lands.

Cormac’s Chapel dates to the 11th century. Pictured below is the restored chapel. In the process of the restoration, beautiful frescos were discovered beneath the centuries of dirt and whitewash. Although no longer fully intact, the second image is what it is believed to have originally looked like.

After such a hard day of walking and looking, what better place to stop than a traditional Irish pub and have a very tasty Irish coffee.

I hear that the weather has been absolutely remarkable and it was again today, although a bit blustery. The foot is doing well and did not give me any grief. A very good day. Next Wednesday, I travel again. Where will I land this time?

Camino to Ireland

Today has been a day of travel. I went from Los Arcos to Logroño. My bus was late so I missed my second bus to Madrid. There was another one at 12:45 PM and I got that one. Four hours later I arrived in Madrid. I went and found a new suitcase because I had been carrying my possessions in a bag that I found in the back room of the hotel. I gave away my hiking shoes in Los Arcos because the hikers I had were murder on my foot. The walking I did in my sandals hurt like the dickens at the beginning, but settled in after a bit. I somehow suspect that a little bit later tonight I will regret that walking. I have found some new shoes! Skechers. There were several other brands, but these are recognized. Soft on the bottom, and more importantly, soft on the top.

I have stayed in some very nice places the last several nights. However, the hotel I’m staying at in Madrid is a paradise. I’m sitting down, waiting on my octopus to be delivered for my supper. I’m thinking it’s going to be delicious although you who have issues with my mackrel during the week may not find it so appetizing.

I continue to think about many things. We really don’t change. We are who we are and we fight the battles. It doesn’t matter where you are, your demons will follow you. If you pray that those demons might release you and they remain, does that mean that you are a complete loss and destined for level nine? Or does that mean that Saint Paul heard correctly, “My grace is sufficient for thee.” Do we continue to fight against the demons? I look at the person that I am, and I wonder, is this really who God wants me to be? I can’t imagine the person that I am is satisfying to Him. We desire to be more but… all that remains is who we are…. hold that thought, supper has arrived…

I absolutely complained to the management. It was a terrible supper. The baby octopus was two days too old. Horrible. I ate it so that I would not embarrass the chef. For those of you who know that I eat mackerel out of a can, please know that this was even better, and if I could get it in a can, I would be eating it every day! Just for the record.

I see that I have mentioned this earlier, so I am just rambling now… Before I arrived at my hotel, I purchased a new suitcase and a new pair of sneakers. My foot is very appreciative of the new sneakers. The suitcase actually contains everything after the great purge. I got rid of my backpack and many of the items that I needed for the long walk. However, I was left with a small day pack, and it was bursting at the seams. It made it this far, but I think it had just about met its maker.

When I walked into the luggage store and the shoe store, they both looked at me as though I did not belong. That is something worth preaching on. However, when they realized that I could actually pay… do you remember that scene from Pretty Woman, apparently they did… they helped me out.

I have been rambling all day long. My apologies. Not great writing. However, I’ve been struggling from one place to the next and I’m just about to the place where I can stop. I need a haircut. I need a shower. I need somebody to trim my eyebrows (I can’t be that shaggy English guy!) I need about a 12 hour nap. Who doesn’t? We go too hard. We must learn to find peace and rest…………

I do not believe that we know how to breathe. I think we try so hard to prove to the world and to ourselves… What?… Something.… That we are… Important? Have relevance? Deserve to be heard?…

… Maybe we just want the world to know that we exist or existed? Maybe we are all the good thief who cries out in all desperation, “Remember me.” …… I’m talking to myself now…..

Wait! I forgot about my white crane this morning. She/he was sitting on their nest at the top of the bell tower in Los Arcos. A beautiful bird, and so very peaceful to watch. So high up that she/he did not care that we were down below observing them.

If you do not hear from me in the next six months, start searching for my body in this area of Ireland. I’ll be headed there tomorrow.

Sleep well. know that God loves you.

My scars hurt. 

Camino: a day in Los Arcos

It only looks like I need to wash my feet, but it is actually a bruise on my right foot brought on by a stress fracture. The swelling was enough this morning that I could barely get my sandal on. I did not try my shoes.

And, yes, I am aware that I have finger toes, and that there is a massive gap where another toe could fit in.

What does this all mean? I am seeking further advice from a podiatrist. I have to be out of this hotel by noon tomorrow so things could happen quickly.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” – Ferris Bueller.

Stick with me my blog reading friends, we have a change of plans. Two to four weeks of little walking or it will be a couple of months in a boot. I choose to rest, and what better place to rest than the Irish countryside. I’ll be there for three to four weeks, then we’ll see what’s next. Heck, I already have an invitation from friends to meet them in Vienna and I’m definitely still planning on Norway. Regardless of the aches and pains, life is very good. Love living it.

Tomorrow is mostly travel: hotel to bus stop (car), Los Arcos to Logroño (bus), Logroño to Madrid (bus… about 4.5 hours), and Uber to hotel. The flight to Dublin leaves Saturday morning.

Dora sent me this one…

I do believe that I will. Can’t wait!

Sermon: Great Vigil

Photo by zhang kaiyv on Unsplash

The words of the Exsultet, “This is the night, when…”

This is the night when the Church attempts to read all of Holy Scripture in one sitting.

This is the night when the choir and organist threaten to go on strike if I add one more piece of music.

This is the night when the parish administrator double-dog dares me to make one more change to the bulletin.

This is the night when the congregation asks, “Are we there yet?”

This is the night, the eve of our salvation when we enter into the darkness of the tomb and create a spark that becomes a flame that sets the whole world ablaze with the Light of Christ.  

This is the night when we baptize Nolan, and Crawford receives his first communion.

From the song, December, 1963, by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, “O, what a night!”

Of all the liturgies throughout the church year, this is the highest and most grand. It is the culmination of all the other days and festivals, from the Incarnation to the Transfiguration to Good Friday to Easter. On this night, we remember all that God has done for His people, we give thanks for what He has done for us, and we celebrate the bringing into the Kingdom those new members who receive the cleansing that comes through Baptism and the participation of others in Christ’s body by becoming one with Jesus through receiving the Holy Sacrament. O, what a night.

Tonight is a reminder that we are not alone in this world. It is a reminder that the Church Triumphant—those who have gone before us—and the Chruch Militant—we today—are bound together in love through baptism into Christ’s death and resurrection. That through Jesus’ giving of Himself, we truly become one with Him and each other.

I will not be long-winded tonight because everything you see and hear is a sermon. So, I’ll encourage you to be one in Christ Jesus. So many things seek to divide us, but the bonds of love are stronger than any of these, and the only way those bonds can be severed is if we intentionally cut them ourselves. 

You are Christ’s one holy catholic and apostolic Church. Let us receive Nolan into our family through her baptism and then participate with Crawford in his first communion. O, what a night.

“The candidate for Holy Baptism will now be presented.” BCP p.301.

Sermon: Easter Sunday 2024


Doc Pierre decided that he wanted to get into the ranching business, so he went out and purchased himself a bunch of cows and put them out on the pasture. He also knew he would need a bull, so he called up one of his hands, Ol’ Boudreaux, and gave him the plan. 

“Boudreaux,” he says, “I’m going out to find the bull. Once I’ve purchased one, you hook the trailer to that pick ‘em up truck of yours and come fetch it.”

“How will I know?” Bou asks.

Doc Pierre says, “I’ll send a telegram,” and it was all set.

Doc Pierre goes out searching for the bull with $5,000 in his pocket. He finds one for exactly $5,000. Hoping to lower the price, he asks the rancher if that is the best offer. “Well, I suppose I could let it go for $4,999.” Doc Pierre thinks it’s a good deal and takes him up on it. Then, he heads to Western Union to send the telegram to Boudreaux, but it is there that he learns it’ll cost him $1 per word, and all he’s got left is a $1. He thinks on it a moment, then writes out a one-word message to Boudreaux.

The telegraph operator looks at it questioningly, then back up to Doc Pierre. Doc Pierre nods in understanding and explains, “Boudreaux don’t read so good, so he’ll have to sound it out first. He’ll get the message.” The telegraph operator said OK and sent the one-word telegram: “Comfortable.”

About an hour later, Boudreaux showed up with the pick ‘em up truck and trailer.

Doc Pierre sent, “Comfortable,” and Boudreaux had to sound it out, “Come.. for… da… bull.”

Have you heard of response latency? It is defined as “The interval of time elapsing between a stimulus and a response.” (Source) You may not have heard of it, but you may have just experienced it. I told you what I hoped was a good joke, and hopefully, you laughed! However, there was a short period of time between the punch line and you getting the joke and laughing. The time between is the response latency. It is the time when you have all the necessary information, but not quite yet understanding. It is the time leading up to a moment of clarity or an “Aha!” moment or epiphany. Response latency.

Our Gospel reading this morning tells us that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb of Jesus, found the stone rolled away, and ran back and told Peter and John. Hearing this, the two disciples take off. John outruns Peter and arrives first. John stands just outside the tomb, but Peter—never really one for restraint—goes barging in. After gaining his courage, John follows. There, they discover the linen shroud that had covered Jesus’ body and the veil that had been over his face, but the body of Jesus is not there. 

The image on the front of your bulletin depicts the scene. The painting St. John and St. Peter at Christ’s Tomb (c.1640) is by the Italian artist Giovanni Francesco Romanelli. Peter, on the left, is pointing at the shroud and seems to be staring off, trying to understand, but for John,  the response latency is ending. The pieces are falling into place. It is like he is holding up his hands to tell Peter to be quiet so that he can think. The reading tells us that the disciple whom Jesus loved, John, “saw and believed.” Romanelli captured that moment.

The reading then tells us that the two returned home, but Mary, who must have followed behind the footrace, remained. She leaned into the tomb and saw and spoke to the angels, then turning, she saw the gardener, not knowing it was Jesus. 

Now, this is an interpretation on my part, but the gardener was there all along, watching. Maybe he was out of sight, or maybe, in all the excitement and rushing about, all three saw him but more or less dismissed him. Either way, I believe the gardener, Jesus, was there watching this entire scene unfold. And I believe Jesus anxiously anticipated the end of John’s response latency when all the pieces came together. When they did, Jesus smiled and said to Himself, “That’s my boy.” Working behind John’s understanding is God’s grace.

St. John later tells us, “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19), and St. Paul tells us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). Believing in Jesus is a grace—a gift from God. Jesus anxiously anticipated all the pieces falling together for John to believe, but the reason this could happen for John was because God first loved John—God’s grace was given to John so that he might believe.

Today, we are the ones standing in the tomb. We are the ones seeing the shroud and other linen. Like John, we have all the teachings of the Prophets and all the words and deeds of Jesus at our disposal. In addition, we have the teachings of the Apostles, the Saints, and the Church. We have all the information. Question: have they fallen into place for you, or are you still in that time of response latency? If yes, if they’ve fallen into place, then have a passion for souls and pray that others may receive the light of the Gospel. If not, then pray for God’s grace, so that He might give you understanding.

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark,” and before Mary Magdalene arrived at the tomb, Jesus rose from the dead—He is “the firstborn from the dead.” (Colossians 1:18) He did this out of His great love for us and accomplished it so that you and I might also be given eternal life with Him. 

This is your first day of the week. The empty tomb is before you. Pray that all the pieces, all the information falls into place and that God’s grace pours out upon you that you might believe and live.

In 1917, the Virgin Mary appeared six times to three young children near Fatima, Portugal. On the second appearance, she gave them a prayer that she asked to be added to the end of each decade of the Rosary. Whether you pray the Rosary or not, it is a prayer worth learning. It is known as the Fatima Prayer.

Let us pray: “Oh, my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of Hell and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy. Amen.”

Sermon: Holy Saturday

Christ’s Descent into Limbo by Andrea Mantegna and studio, c. 1470

Jesus “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. He emptied himself freely accepting death on a cross.” So, if Jesus died, where is He on this day? You know the words of the Creed: “He suffered under Pontius Pilate, crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell.” That’s why this Church seems so strangely empty. The one for whom it was built, whose presence draws us on Sunday, is not here. 

Crucified, he died and was buried; he descended into hell. Nineteenth-century Methodists removed that portion of the Creed, claiming it unbiblical. But it’s not. The First Epistle of Peter speaks of Christ’s descent into hell, called by the Church “The Harrowing of Hell.” Harrowing is a military term meaning to “make predatory raids or incursions.” Therefore, after Christ’s burial yesterday and through today, Satan’s territory is being invaded by the One who yesterday died upon the cross.

Following His death, when he breathed his last, Jesus descended to hell. Having preached to us, the living, he descended to the dead and is there proclaiming the Good News to those who lived and died before his coming. 

It is inconceivable that only those who lived during Jesus’s time and afterward would benefit from the salvation He brought to the world, and all those who died before His coming would be excluded from that salvation. So, everyone who died before He came, all the way back to Adam and Eve, had the opportunity to receive His word of salvation.

He is there, doing what He does so well: preaching, teaching, touching, relentlessly seeking, persuading, inviting, healing, and announcing God’s love and mercy. As the Psalmist says, “Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell.” Even Byzantine art depicts Jesus in the jaws of hell, giving a hand to those who had died, lifting them out of the darkness.

And though He is down there and, therefore, not here, there is something to be said to those of us He has temporarily left behind—Because I am there, descended into the deadly darkness, confronting the enemy on the enemy’s turf, you have hope. 

If He is there, literally fighting for the souls in Hell, then we can know with all certainty that there is no darkness, sorrow, or pain we can experience that His loving presence cannot enter into. If He is willing and able to risk it all, to wade deep into the death we so fear and avoid, then what might He risk for us? 

Do you remember the stories Jesus told about God and the kingdom of Heaven—the good Shepherd who forever seeks the one lost sheep, the faithful father who awaits the return of the one lost son, and the relentless woman who does not rest until she finds the one coin? Jesus meant those things when He said them. He is willing to fight for our souls today and for the righteous souls who departed this world before His first coming.

On that first Saturday before the resurrection, the disciples, Mary, and the rest mourned the loss of their Savior, but He had not truly left them. He had only gone to continue His Father’s work.

Sermon: Good Friday


Pilate said to the Jews, “Here is your King!” They cried out, “Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!” Pilate asked them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but the emperor.”  So the soldiers took him to be crucified.  It took Jesus six hours to die; then he breathed his last.

All this time, the people were gathered around or passing by.  Yes, there were a few followers, but mostly, it was the soldiers, the religious leaders, and those who had called out, “Crucify him!”  Thomas à Kempis describes this mass of unbelievers:

“Like mad dogs they huddled together to attack your innocence. With their mouths they barked like dogs, they gnashed their teeth like lions, and with their tongues they hissed like snakes. They cursed with their lips and their faces they turned into sneers; they clapped with their hands, their feet danced, and their hearts rejoiced, all because they saw you nailed to a Cross—one whom they did not want to see die without first being mocked and jeered. Those who passed by shook their heads like crazed, drunken men, and filled with bitterness, arrogance, and ill will, they shouted: Ah, there’s the man who destroys God’s Temple and rebuilds it in three days.” (On the Passion of Christ: According to the Four Evangelists, p. 91)

Creation itself shuddered and wept at the crucifixion of Our Lord, but those gathered around gawked, laughed, insulted, cheered.  All creation wept, but those passing by may have given a quick glance, but they didn’t linger, too afraid to be caught up in these upheavals.  All creation wept, but his clothes they gambled for were worth more than his life.  All creation wept, but for a few still gathered at his feet—who listened for one last word, who desired one last touch, who refused to let go, even when all appeared lost and without hope.  

On that day, two very distinct groups gathered around the cross. Today, those same two groups exist. Be a part of the smaller one—those listening and desiring a touch from the King of Heaven. Christ is upon the cross. Be one who is still hoping. 

Sermon: Wednesday in Holy Week

Photo by David Werbrouck on Unsplash

The deadline for completing the construction of a skyscraper was near, so the crews worked around the clock. The night crew was hard at work on the twenty-first floor when unknown to the others, one of the welders went over the edge. 

Dropping everything, he flung his hands into the pitch-black and grabbed an edge. Hanging there, he yelled, screamed, and prayed that someone would come, but because of all the other construction noise, no one heard, and his grip began to slip. 

He let out a scream and fell… three feet, and landed on the scaffolding that was below him. Scaffolding he had not been able to see in the dark. 

There is a physical darkness, but we also know that there is a spiritual darkness, and it is this spiritual darkness Paul tells us we do battle against it. “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)  Therefore, Jesus tells us, “The light (He is the way, the truth, and the light)… the light is with you for a little longer.  Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you.  If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going.  While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.” (John 12:35-36a)  And it is through Jesus, as Paul teaches us again, that we “are all children of light and children of the day.” (1 Thessalonians 5:5a)

Our Gospel tells us, “When Jesus had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot.  After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him.  Jesus said to him, ‘Do quickly what you are going to do.’” (John 13:26b-27) Then, “after receiving the piece of bread, Judas immediately went out.  And it was night.” (John 13:30)  As he turned from Jesus and left, Judas entered the darkness, both physically and spiritually.

Later that evening, “Judas brought a detachment of soldiers together with police from the chief priests and the Pharisees, and they came there with lanterns and torches and weapons.” (John 18:3) “They came there with lanterns and torches”—they came there in the dark and carried out the works of darkness, the works of the “spiritual forces of evil.”

For Judas, there was a threshold, both literally and spiritually, that he crossed when he went out. He intentionally stepped out of the light of the room where Jesus and the others were gathered—the Light of Christ—and, in a similar manner, he intentionally stepped into the spiritual darkness and was lost.

For Judas and for us, the threshold between the light and the dark is the place of testing. It is the place of free will, where we choose light or dark. The biggest mistake we can make is to think there can be a compromise.  “I won’t go so far into the night that I can’t see the threshold leading back into the light.”  That’s like a woman saying she’s only a little bit pregnant.  There is not a little bit of darkness. We either walk in the dark or we walk in the light. Therefore, walk in the light and believe in the light so that you may remain children of light.  This is God’s plan for us; through the guidance and strength of his Holy Spirit, we can be obedient.

Sermon: Palm Sunday – “Romance”

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Most of you are aware that not only do I enjoy reading a good story, but I also like trying to write them. Like with any endeavor, it can be helpful to read how others work, and fortunately, some of my favorite authors have written books on writing. Neil Gaiman, author of Caroline, Good Omens, and other books, in the introduction to his book, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders, Gaiman talks about stories. He writes,

“Stories, like people and butterflies and songbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger or more lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or they are words on the air, composed of sounds and ideas—abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken—and what could be more frail than that? But some stories, small, simple ones about setting out on adventures or people doing wonders, tales of miracles and monsters, have outlasted all the people who told them, and some of them have outlasted the lands in which they were created.” 

Stories, whether fictitious or factual, hold our attention and mold our perception of the world. Whether a believer or not, the story we hear on this day has long outlasted the people who told it and has been changing peoples’ views for over 2,000 years. No other story has affected the world more. My question for you today is this: What kind of story is it?

Most of us can agree that it is non-fiction, but even in that category, we can classify it as a particular genre. Some might say it is history, while others might categorize it as a thriller or even a horror story. There are good arguments for all these, but the one category that probably would not come to mind when reading the Passion Narrative is romance.

In their definition of a romance novel, the RWA, Romance Writers of America, says, “Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.” (Source) In the reading of the Passion Narrative, do you hear anything of a love story? Is there an optimistic ending? 

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) 

What we read on this day is the greatest romance, the greatest love story ever written—ever lived out. What we read today is Jesus looking down at you from the Cross and saying, “I love you. I love you and am enduring this so that you may be with me in My Father’s house for all eternity.” The Passion of Our Lord is many things, but at the heart, it is pure romance.

Today, I invite you to experience this romance, this love of God. To not only hear the story but to write yourself into it and become a child of God—the beloved of God.