Saturday 20th August 2011 - St Sophia's, Galston
A very unusual building in Byzantine style dominating the sky-line of Galston, gifted by the Marquess of Bute. It was designed by Sir Rowand Atkinson in 1886 and modelled on St Sophia’s in Istanbul. Listed.
It’s a definite today for Mass at Galston. Betty from St. Sophia’s has informed me that the visiting priest Father O’ Brien will be celebrating Mass this morning.
Well Lord, here I am, back to the church where I became an adult in my faith. Hugh and I were a young couple when we moved to Galston with our three children and from the start we felt at home and welcomed. Firstly, by our beloved Father James Manning, and then by the St Sophia’s family.
This is the place I felt close to you Lord and do you remember the little prayers I used to write to you. Happy times, and yes today as I sat in the church I remembered all who are now in heaven. It was a special day for me today. Thank you Lord. And thank you to Michael for taking me there. My seventeenth Mass was beautiful.
My thoughts have gone back to St Sophia’s this evening. The Passionist priests from Fatima House, Coodham used to come to our parish each Sunday to help our priest by celebrating second Mass. We never knew who we were getting till the priest arrived.
I was a busy young mother at this time but I did take time to tell you how I was feeling Lord. Do you remember this little prayer? You know how it is for young mothers trying to get their children to Mass and making sure everyone is fed before they start thinking about themselves, busy days yet happy days.
Sunday Mornings
Thought and prayers of a busy mother
Ten minutes to Mass, late again,
Rushing, panting, nagging,
Every week the same.
Nearly there! A minute late,
Entrance hymn begins,
Father Pat today, good, I like him.
Sorry Lord, I’m trying,
You called me, Lord, I’m here,
Relaxed, listening, praying,
Happy you’re so near.
I held you Lord, you live in me,
Be my shining light,
Come with me into my world,
Through every day and night.
Too soon you are gone Lord,
Home again, bill, chores, worries
And much more.
I smile and remember,
How can you be gone, you are with me always.
Dear Lord I’m so aware on this evening of World Youth Day that we need our children to come home from Madrid with a commitment to you. It won’t be easy for them, they are young but perhaps the seeds will have been sown.
St Sophia Feast Day June 2nd
"If a vote were taken for the Mother of the Thousand Years of the Byzantine Empire, the unanimous choice would be a valiant woman named Sophia who turned a personal tragedy into a triumph of the spirit in the name of the Lord." Sophia came into the world with every advantage, including wealth and intelligence, as well as an abiding faith in Jesus Christ. In her 34th year, a plague swept over the land and one by one she watched helplessly as her husband and six children died. In her despair she longed to join her family in death but her faith asserted itself and she announced her plans to disperse her wealth among the poor, keeping enough to maintain her house. In a span of 20 years, Sophia’s house became a haven for orphans, adopting over 100 children.
Tuesday August 23rd 2011- St Bride’s,
West Kilbride
Opened in 1908. The Marian shrine in the grounds was erected in 1958 for its Golden Jubilee.
It’s to be to the other end of the diocese today, St Bride’s Church West Kilbride to be exact. It was a pleasant morning as I boarded the no 46 6.55am to Ayr and my mind was at peace as I settled down to pray. After arriving in Ayr, I walked to the High Street to stretch my legs and when I came back the 585 Greenock bus had arrived. We left Ayr at 8.00 and I continued to think and pray. It’s easy to pray with a view like I had; with Arran on my left bedecked with fluffy clouds balancing on Goatfell. My prayer was replaced with a wee bit of panic as I had never set foot in West Kilbride and would need to concentrate on where to get off. As the bus drove through what looked like the main street of this pretty town I decided to get off. I was greeted with a friendly smile as I asked a young woman for directions to St Bride’s Catholic Church. Lucky for me it was on the street to my left. A friendly smile can replace panic and I had a spring in my step as I headed for Mass.
I found the church just nestled behind the main street and there in a small meeting room I found Father Joseph Boland at prayer in the presence of our Lord.
On weekdays the parishioners of St Bride’s meet for quiet prayer in this oasis of peace with the Blessed Sacrament on a simple altar. Then at 10.00 there is Mass. I cannot find the words to say because it was so special but all I can say is, that I hope whoever reads this will go some morning. Thank you Father Boland. And thank you Lord for this my eighteenth Mass in Galloway.
St Bride also known as Brigid, Feast Day February 1st; Born around 451 died 525
Born in Louth, Ireland, daughter of a pagan chieftain and a Christian slave woman. Brought up as a Christian, Bridget consecrated herself to God at an early age as did so many of her fellow countrywomen. These first Irish nuns lived in their homes helping the church and leading a dedicated life of prayer and penance. Bridget’s special vocation was to found convents for these consecrated women. She travelled all over Ireland in the course of her foundations. She was a practical, hard- working woman equally at home in the fields tending the sheep or in the dairy making butter. St Brigid is still an inspiration and an example not only for nuns but for women in general.
West Kilbride
Opened in 1908. The Marian shrine in the grounds was erected in 1958 for its Golden Jubilee.
It’s to be to the other end of the diocese today, St Bride’s Church West Kilbride to be exact. It was a pleasant morning as I boarded the no 46 6.55am to Ayr and my mind was at peace as I settled down to pray. After arriving in Ayr, I walked to the High Street to stretch my legs and when I came back the 585 Greenock bus had arrived. We left Ayr at 8.00 and I continued to think and pray. It’s easy to pray with a view like I had; with Arran on my left bedecked with fluffy clouds balancing on Goatfell. My prayer was replaced with a wee bit of panic as I had never set foot in West Kilbride and would need to concentrate on where to get off. As the bus drove through what looked like the main street of this pretty town I decided to get off. I was greeted with a friendly smile as I asked a young woman for directions to St Bride’s Catholic Church. Lucky for me it was on the street to my left. A friendly smile can replace panic and I had a spring in my step as I headed for Mass.
I found the church just nestled behind the main street and there in a small meeting room I found Father Joseph Boland at prayer in the presence of our Lord.
On weekdays the parishioners of St Bride’s meet for quiet prayer in this oasis of peace with the Blessed Sacrament on a simple altar. Then at 10.00 there is Mass. I cannot find the words to say because it was so special but all I can say is, that I hope whoever reads this will go some morning. Thank you Father Boland. And thank you Lord for this my eighteenth Mass in Galloway.
St Bride also known as Brigid, Feast Day February 1st; Born around 451 died 525
Born in Louth, Ireland, daughter of a pagan chieftain and a Christian slave woman. Brought up as a Christian, Bridget consecrated herself to God at an early age as did so many of her fellow countrywomen. These first Irish nuns lived in their homes helping the church and leading a dedicated life of prayer and penance. Bridget’s special vocation was to found convents for these consecrated women. She travelled all over Ireland in the course of her foundations. She was a practical, hard- working woman equally at home in the fields tending the sheep or in the dairy making butter. St Brigid is still an inspiration and an example not only for nuns but for women in general.
Friday 26th August 2011 - St Columba's, Annan
This church has been home to several branches of Christianity. Built in 1794 as a Congregational Chapel on the site of a Secession Meeting House. In 1839 it was re-opened as a Catholic church.
St.Columba’s, Annan, this morning. I had thought about leaving this visit till next Friday but we have our Parish Fete next Saturday and on Friday evening we will be busy in the Parish Hall, so today it is.
I’m becoming an old hand at these early morning trips on the 246 to Dumfries. I’m recognizing all the workers at each bus stop on the way. It was a lovely morning and I had time for a wee walk in Dumfries before catching the Annan bus at 9.00am.
This is a rural route to Annan and was new to me and I enjoyed it so much. The driver was very kind when I asked him if he knew Scott’s Street and he pointed me in the right direction when we arrived around 9.40am. I walked up the hill and arrived in St Columba’s Church ten minutes later.
One lady was kneeling in prayer and Jan, the Sacristan, was quietly attending to her duties. Father Holmes arrived followed by the other parishioners, and during Mass Father Holmes gave us food for thought when he talked about today’s Gospel about the bridegroom arriving for the wedding and about the ten bridesmaids, five wise and five foolish. The five wise brought flasks of oil and the five foolish having to go and buy more oil and when they returned the door was closed.
“Lord, Lord, open the door for us” they said. But he replied “I tell you solemnly, I do not know you”. So stay awake, because you do not know either the day or the hour. Thank you to Father Holmes and to the ladies I met today.
The Carlisle bus was running a bit late when it arrived in Annan and by the time I got back to Dumfries I had missed my bus home and had two hours to wander around. Half an hour before my bus was due I decided to settle at the bus stance and wait. As usual with this bus so many of the people know each other and the conversations are always interesting. One of today’s topics was the closing of one of the large stores in the High Street. “I heard Wilkinson’s was going in there “ “No I heard it was going to be a church “. “A Church!!” “Why a church ?”, “ Who would put a church there”? One lady then said “I never go to church “ and proceeded to tell a story about when she was ill and a friend of hers said she had prayed for her but when she asked the Lord to help her friend the Lord had replied “I do not know who you are talking about“. Many of the passengers were laughing. I was amazed at the similarity to the Gospel reading just four hours before.
St Columba. Feast Day June 9th
About the year 521, a son was born to Phelim and Eithne, in Donegal Ireland. He was baptized and named as Colm, Colum or Columba, later to be known as Colmcille. As soon as he was considered old enough he was removed from the care of his priest guardian at Temple Douglas to St Finnian’s great school in Moville. He spent a number of years there and was a Deacon when he left to study in Leinster under an aged bard called Master Gemman. The bards preserved the records of Irish history and literature and Columba himself was a poet of some merit. Later he went to another monastic school at Clonard and was ordained there or maybe a little later at Glasnevin. When he was 25 he returned to Ulster and spent the next 15 years going about Ireland and founding monasteries in Derry, Durrow and Kells. In 563 with 12 companions, he left Ireland and on the eve of Pentecost landed in Iona where he built a monastery which was to be his home until his death.. He is credited with having converted most of the Picts and missionaries went far and wide from Iona.
Sunday 28th August 2011- St Martin and St Ninian, Whithorn
This modern [1960] cruciform church of grey harl, with slate roof and square entrance porch, is topped by an unusual double belfry. The original Candida Casa built by Ninian was also dedicated to St. Martin of Tours.
My 20th Mass was to be a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage. You see today is our annual pilgrimage to Whithorn on the feast of St. Ninian, and as usual there was a bus going from our parishes so here was my chance to have Mass at the church of St Martin and St. Ninian rather than walk to the cave on the shore. Ellen had decided to go too so rather than being by myself with my thoughts it was good to have her by my side.
We were travelling along nicely then discovered there was an accident ahead and the traffic was diverted so there we were in narrow country roads heading for Wigtown chewing our sweeties and being entertained by the build up of assorted vehicles. At one point we were stuck in a jam and a beautiful chestnut horse decided to let us know in no uncertain terms that we were disturbing his quiet grazing, and eventually when we got going he galloped along side us to make sure we were on our way. It was all so amusing but not for the driver or all the other drivers for that matter.
Six of us got off at Whithorn and the others carried on to the point where they would start walking to the beach for Mass at the cave. Four of us enjoyed a welcome cup of tea at the Whithorn Story Visitor Centre Teashop.
A lady from St Margaret’s in Ayr spoke to us and I recognized her as Kitty, a very caring nurse from Ayr Hospital who had nursed my husband a few years before he died. It was lovely to talk to her again.
Mass at St.Martin and St Ninian’s was a real treat with Monsignor Boyd, Father Thomson and the recently ordained Deacon, Rev Bob Simpson.
Father Thomson was in good form with his Party Political Homily on behalf of the Scottish Nationalist Party.
Thanks to Father Ben Lodge for your lovely church and for the ‘smilies’ in the bulletin. Here is an example: “Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognise a mistake when you make it again.”
It was getting cold as we waited in Whithorn High Street and welcomed the arrival of our warm and comfortable coach. We soldiered on past Glenluce and then on to Cairnryan before heading for Girvan and a very tasty fish supper.
We were a weary bunch of pilgrims as we arrived back at St John’s but a very happy bunch to have celebrated Mass for a very special saint.
St Martin, Feast Day November 11th
Martin lived in the fourth Century. He was born in Hungary around 316. As a young recruit in the Roman army Martin was sent to France.. The ancient story tells how, when he was in Amiens, he saw at the gate of the city an old beggar, half naked and shivering in the winter’s cold and Martin cut his own soldier’s cloak into two pieces and gave one piece to the beggar. On the following night he had a vision of our Lord, wearing the halved cloak. Until this time Martin had been a catechumen; He was then baptized and obtained permission from the emperor to leave the army. With the help of St Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, he built a large hermitage at Liguge. Later he became Bishop of Tours and again built a large hermitage. Great holiness was attributed to him and marvellous healing powers. His work was with the poor and Martin was one of the first to be honoured as a saint without having suffered martyrdom.
St Ninian, Feast Day September 16th
Ninian is a Christian saint first mentioned in the 8th Century as being an early missionary among the Pictish peoples of Scotland. He was known as the Apostle to the Southern Picts and there are numerous dedications to him in those parts of Scotland with a Pictish heritage, throughout the Scottish Lowlands and in parts of England. Ninian’s major shrine was at Whithorn in Galloway named Candida Casa [ the White House]. The Venerable Bede and St Aelred both write that Ninian dedicated his church to St Martin of Tours.
This modern [1960] cruciform church of grey harl, with slate roof and square entrance porch, is topped by an unusual double belfry. The original Candida Casa built by Ninian was also dedicated to St. Martin of Tours.
My 20th Mass was to be a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage. You see today is our annual pilgrimage to Whithorn on the feast of St. Ninian, and as usual there was a bus going from our parishes so here was my chance to have Mass at the church of St Martin and St. Ninian rather than walk to the cave on the shore. Ellen had decided to go too so rather than being by myself with my thoughts it was good to have her by my side.
We were travelling along nicely then discovered there was an accident ahead and the traffic was diverted so there we were in narrow country roads heading for Wigtown chewing our sweeties and being entertained by the build up of assorted vehicles. At one point we were stuck in a jam and a beautiful chestnut horse decided to let us know in no uncertain terms that we were disturbing his quiet grazing, and eventually when we got going he galloped along side us to make sure we were on our way. It was all so amusing but not for the driver or all the other drivers for that matter.
Six of us got off at Whithorn and the others carried on to the point where they would start walking to the beach for Mass at the cave. Four of us enjoyed a welcome cup of tea at the Whithorn Story Visitor Centre Teashop.
A lady from St Margaret’s in Ayr spoke to us and I recognized her as Kitty, a very caring nurse from Ayr Hospital who had nursed my husband a few years before he died. It was lovely to talk to her again.
Mass at St.Martin and St Ninian’s was a real treat with Monsignor Boyd, Father Thomson and the recently ordained Deacon, Rev Bob Simpson.
Father Thomson was in good form with his Party Political Homily on behalf of the Scottish Nationalist Party.
Thanks to Father Ben Lodge for your lovely church and for the ‘smilies’ in the bulletin. Here is an example: “Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognise a mistake when you make it again.”
It was getting cold as we waited in Whithorn High Street and welcomed the arrival of our warm and comfortable coach. We soldiered on past Glenluce and then on to Cairnryan before heading for Girvan and a very tasty fish supper.
We were a weary bunch of pilgrims as we arrived back at St John’s but a very happy bunch to have celebrated Mass for a very special saint.
St Martin, Feast Day November 11th
Martin lived in the fourth Century. He was born in Hungary around 316. As a young recruit in the Roman army Martin was sent to France.. The ancient story tells how, when he was in Amiens, he saw at the gate of the city an old beggar, half naked and shivering in the winter’s cold and Martin cut his own soldier’s cloak into two pieces and gave one piece to the beggar. On the following night he had a vision of our Lord, wearing the halved cloak. Until this time Martin had been a catechumen; He was then baptized and obtained permission from the emperor to leave the army. With the help of St Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, he built a large hermitage at Liguge. Later he became Bishop of Tours and again built a large hermitage. Great holiness was attributed to him and marvellous healing powers. His work was with the poor and Martin was one of the first to be honoured as a saint without having suffered martyrdom.
St Ninian, Feast Day September 16th
Ninian is a Christian saint first mentioned in the 8th Century as being an early missionary among the Pictish peoples of Scotland. He was known as the Apostle to the Southern Picts and there are numerous dedications to him in those parts of Scotland with a Pictish heritage, throughout the Scottish Lowlands and in parts of England. Ninian’s major shrine was at Whithorn in Galloway named Candida Casa [ the White House]. The Venerable Bede and St Aelred both write that Ninian dedicated his church to St Martin of Tours.
Tuesday 30th August 2011 - St John's, Stevenston
The original church was built in 1905 to serve the increasing population of Stevenston after the expansion of the Nobel explosives plant at nearby Ardeer. It was replaced by a modern church in 1963 with beautiful stained glass by Gabriel Loire of Chartres.
I’m still a bit tired after Sunday, and pondered about Mass today. Last night I had made up my mind to go to St John’s, Stevenston and checked with Father Martin Poland that there would be Mass. I was up early as usual and after breakfast decided to go.
So here I was on the bus to Kilmarnock to catch the no.11 Ardrossan bus. I’m getting a dab hand at this travelling and I’m beginning to recognise people who are heading off to work.
I knew to get off at the bus stop past Morrison’s in Stevenston and walk the short walk to St John’s.
St. John’s is a very welcoming church and I recognised John Murphy who was preparing the altar for Mass. John’s brother Joe lived in Galston when we lived there so I thought of Joe’s wife Elizabeth. So here I was back to the first Mass at The Cathedral Church of St Margaret in Ayr where I saw Elizabeth’s sister, Margaret. Lord, thank you for all the lovely people we meet through life.
I noticed my wee room mate from a trip to Lourdes four years ago. Anne was wonderful to me on that pilgrimage. She was a widow like me and we shared a special time at the Grotto.
I spoke to Father Poland after Mass as I waited for Anne. I had forgotten Anne’s second name [I have it written in a book at home] but this “age” thing, enough said!! Thank you Father Poland for reminding me, and thank you for a lovely Mass.
It was good to talk to Anne again. Another lady, Lillian, introduced herself to me too then we had a good chat as we travelled to Kilmarnock together. I was home in Cumnock around 12.40pm, a bit wet and bedraggled but warm inside.
St John, Feast Day December 27th
St John, son of Zebedee and brother of St James the Great, was called to be an apostle by Our Lord. He became the “beloved disciple” and the only one of the twelve who did not forsake the Saviour in the hour of His Passion. He stood faithfully at the cross when the Saviour made him guardian of His Mother. His later life was passed chiefly in Jerusalem and Ephesus. He founded many churches and wrote the fourth Gospel and three epistles. The Book of Revelations is also attributed to him. He lived to an extreme old age, surviving all his fellow apostles and died at Ephesus about the year 100.
The original church was built in 1905 to serve the increasing population of Stevenston after the expansion of the Nobel explosives plant at nearby Ardeer. It was replaced by a modern church in 1963 with beautiful stained glass by Gabriel Loire of Chartres.
I’m still a bit tired after Sunday, and pondered about Mass today. Last night I had made up my mind to go to St John’s, Stevenston and checked with Father Martin Poland that there would be Mass. I was up early as usual and after breakfast decided to go.
So here I was on the bus to Kilmarnock to catch the no.11 Ardrossan bus. I’m getting a dab hand at this travelling and I’m beginning to recognise people who are heading off to work.
I knew to get off at the bus stop past Morrison’s in Stevenston and walk the short walk to St John’s.
St. John’s is a very welcoming church and I recognised John Murphy who was preparing the altar for Mass. John’s brother Joe lived in Galston when we lived there so I thought of Joe’s wife Elizabeth. So here I was back to the first Mass at The Cathedral Church of St Margaret in Ayr where I saw Elizabeth’s sister, Margaret. Lord, thank you for all the lovely people we meet through life.
I noticed my wee room mate from a trip to Lourdes four years ago. Anne was wonderful to me on that pilgrimage. She was a widow like me and we shared a special time at the Grotto.
I spoke to Father Poland after Mass as I waited for Anne. I had forgotten Anne’s second name [I have it written in a book at home] but this “age” thing, enough said!! Thank you Father Poland for reminding me, and thank you for a lovely Mass.
It was good to talk to Anne again. Another lady, Lillian, introduced herself to me too then we had a good chat as we travelled to Kilmarnock together. I was home in Cumnock around 12.40pm, a bit wet and bedraggled but warm inside.
St John, Feast Day December 27th
St John, son of Zebedee and brother of St James the Great, was called to be an apostle by Our Lord. He became the “beloved disciple” and the only one of the twelve who did not forsake the Saviour in the hour of His Passion. He stood faithfully at the cross when the Saviour made him guardian of His Mother. His later life was passed chiefly in Jerusalem and Ephesus. He founded many churches and wrote the fourth Gospel and three epistles. The Book of Revelations is also attributed to him. He lived to an extreme old age, surviving all his fellow apostles and died at Ephesus about the year 100.