The Irish Catholic Hermit

The Three Gifts and the Wisdom of the Magi Ah, my friends, sure it’s no accident at all that the Christ Child was greeted with three gifts at the manger. Not two, not four, but three—a tidy number, isn’t it? Now, could it be a nod to the Holy Trinity itself? Or maybe it’s a sign of Christ’s own mission: prophet, priest, and king? Sure, perhaps it even speaks to ourselves—spirit, soul, and body, the very essence of being human. I’ll leave the unravelling of that grand mystery to your own musings over a strong cup of tea. But for now, let’s cast our eyes eastward to those Magi, those clever lads who set out under a star to bring their treasures. These fellas, well, they didn’t just represent themselves; no, they stood in for all of us. And the gifts they brought—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—well, those gifts aren’t just shiny trinkets for the mantelpiece. They’ve meaning, they do! Gold, you see, is for the material—what we earn with the sweat of our brows and the calluses on our hands...

  In Honour of Herself Above All Women Ah sure, isn’t it a fine sight altogether, lads and lassies? Here we are, answering the call of Mary herself—Herself Above All Women, the holy and ever-virgin Mother of God. I’ll tell ye, the very weight on me heart is lifted clean off by it all. And isn’t it just like what David said in the psalms: “How good and pleasant it is for brothers to live together in unity.” Isn’t there a fierce truth in that, now? And Mary herself—ah, where in God’s name would we be without her? The pride of heaven and earth, a light that’ll never go out, not if we waited till the cows come home. She’s the crown of virginity, the bedrock of true faith, the unmovable temple of God. Herself, now, carried in her holy womb the very one that no space on earth—or beyond it—could contain. Sure, didn’t they say, “Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord,” and isn’t it down to Herself that such mighty words came to life? Now take a moment and think of it, will ye...

  “Sure, God’s Mad For Us – But Are We Pullin’ Our Weight?” Ah, isn’t it grand to know that God’s love is like a warm fire on a winter’s night? No conditions, no strings, just boundless love for the likes of us, sinners and all. If you’ve ever opened the Good Book, you’d see He’s a fierce ally to the rogues and outcasts. Remember how Matthew called Him “a friend of taxmen and scoundrels”? Even Judas, with betrayal fresh on his lips, heard Him say, “Friend, what’s your game?” And poor Lazarus, asleep in his tomb, was hailed as “our friend.” That’s a heart bigger than the sky above Valentia, isn’t it? But c'mere to me: we’re fond of being reminded about it, aren’t we? Not because we’re forgetful, mind, but because it’s sweet to hear. Who wouldn’t love to be told, over and over, that there’s Someone up there who thinks the world of us? Especially when that Someone made the stars and the sea and still has time to care about our little lives. Now, here’s a thought for you: what do we...

  The Soul’s Great Journey: From the Clay of Egypt to the Light of the Promised Land Ah sure, gather round, and let me spin ye a yarn about life, faith, and the long road to Paradise. You see, the grandest bunch of books in the Old Testament is the Pentateuch , a mouthful of a word the Greeks gave us, meaning “five scrolls.” These are the tales of Moses—Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy—a bit like a storyteller with chapters, one rolling into the next. They tell of a people, the Israelites, taken from their homeland, brought to Egypt, and made slaves to Pharaoh. But God Himself stepped in, leading them through the sands of the desert and back to the Promised Land. Now, why’s all this carry such weight? Sure, it’s not just history for the sake of it. It’s a tale dripping with meaning for anyone trying to follow the hard road of the soul to Paradise. God’s mighty hand is plain to see in it, but there’s more to it than that—it mirrors the spiritual journey of ever...