Strangers in a Strange Land

"The Old Woman" by Paul Henry (1920)

“If a stranger dwell in your land, and abide among you, do not upbraid him: But let him be among you as one of the same country. And you shall love him as yourselves: for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. I am the Lord your God.” (Leviticus 19:33-34.)

Since Edmund read steadily, and deeply, and well, I’m sure he knew these verses, when Moses (camped out with the Israelites in the desert) enjoined on Israel the duty to love strangers. Why? Because the Israelites themselves had been strangers in a strange land. And even though that ceased to be literally true after the last of the Wilderness generation died off, God expected every generation to fulfill this command as if they, too, had been strangers in Egypt — that was the whole point — through Moses, God summoned the faithful, all those yet to be born, to a mighty act of sympathetic imagination.

After my time in Ireland following Edmund, I’ve started to think about all the ways these verses came true in his life: what it was like growing up Catholic at that time, knowing how many were bent on estranging an entire people from their own land; the effect of poverty, estranging children from their humanity and faith — and how Edmund erased that alienation, loving these children as himself, and “letting them be among you as one of the same country.”

And Christ granted Edmund the chance to enact these verses in the most vivid way possible: meeting an enslaved child on the quay in Waterford, Edmund took John Thomas out of slavery and brought him up to the land of milk and — well, if not honey, then butter, the best imaginable. An innocent child ransomed, healed, restored, vindicated — the sign of Exodus itself.

"Achill Head" by Paul Henry

In my Irish journey, I was touched by all my encounters with the Brothers: some voluntarily left their homes to become strangers in new lands for the love of God and God’s people. Those who have remained in Ireland are now living in exile from the schools they founded, but flourishing in new, unlooked-for ministries. Our own Iona Brothers sailed away from Ireland and ultimately made landfall in New Rochelle, all to magnify Edmund’s love for the stranger.

We owe all these men, living and dead, our prayers and our gratitude. Thanks be to God, who orders all things to his purposes, and raises up men like Edmund, his Brothers, and now people like us, his collaborators from generation to generation.

“And coming, he preached peace to you that were afar off: and peace to them that were nigh. For by him we have access both in one Spirit to the Father. Now therefore you are no more strangers and foreigners: but you are fellow citizens with the saints and the domestics of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone: In whom all the building, being framed together, groweth up into an holy temple in the Lord. In whom you also are built together into an habitation of God in the Spirit.” (Ephesians 2:17-22.)

Acknowledgements

Knock and it shall be opened -- North Richmond Street, Dublin (RPD photo)

Note on photography: the photos labeled “RPD” are my own, and the rest I found online (many thanks to all the dedicated photographers of Ireland.) Everywhere I went in Ireland, I met open doors and warm hospitality. Starting in New Rochelle, I want to give special thanks to Tameka Hastick, who makes this job a joy every day; to Br. Liguori for his encouragement; to Matt Cornish, who convinced me I really could use a digital camera; and especially to Joan Clark for so ably and graciously booking my flight and my hotels. Thanks to all the Brothers (Christian and Presentation) who taught me so much and answered endless questions with patience and grace. Thanks to Theresa Johnson for sharing excellent tips and suggestions. And thanks to Sean: the road has been rising to meet me for twenty years, and it’s all because of you.

Let Us Now Praise Famous Gaels, Part V

Old Irish Pub in Murroe, birthplace of Br. Patrick J. Ryan (the village, not the pub)

Three generations of men from Limerick and the West of Ireland helped build Iona College. We can start where we left off: in the village of Murroe, County Limerick–where Glenstal Abbey now stands– here in 1877, Br. Patrick Joachim Ryan was born, the first Provincial of the American Province of the Christian Brothers, founding Iona Trustee, and visionary leader. When Br. Ryan was growing up in Murroe, his village and all the land for miles in every direction belonged to the Barrington family — the same British landlords who would give their manor-house to the Benedictines 40 years later. By then, Br. Ryan had long since made his career in North America. His dedication to the ideal of starting a College in New Rochelle was steady, and Ryan Library stands as a fitting memorial to him. (Br. Ryan’s biography runs to forty pages in the Christian Brothers necrology, and so I despair of summarizing it here!).

Br. Ryan was succeeded in the office of Provincial by another Limerick man, Br. Patrick Joseph Culhane (1868-1950). Br. Culhane grew up in Ballinagoul near the Kerry border. Five of his nine siblings also entered religious life. He helped build up St. Mary’s in Halifax to such eminence that the Jesuits coveted it (successfully). On his watch, not only did Iona College open, but also Rice High School, Power Memorial, Blessed Sacrament, and Cardinal Farley Military Academy. The Brothers recall his “prudence, sincerity, honesty, and hard work.” At this distance, we can only wonder at these men who, starting from such straitened circumstances, nevertheless had the vision and skills to transform the face of education in a foreign land.

The Fields of County Clare

Across the Shannon estuary from Limerick lies County Clare, birthplace of Br. Michael Flannan Garvey (1889-1965). Br. Garvey grew up on a progressive farm in Ballyortla (in the parish of Doora, near Ennis), one of thirteen children, and an enthusiastic competitor in hurling and Gaelic football. Emigrating in 1915, he started at All Hallows, then taught at St. Mary’s in Halifax for nearly 20 years. Eventually he landed at Iona in 1948 where he taught Classics until 1963. A former Halifax student remembered him as “persuasive, breezy, dynamic, and an excellent teacher.”

Br. Quinn in 1976

Another County Clare man was Br. Charles Barnabas Quinn (1914-2007). Although born in Massachusetts, the young Quinn soon returned with his family to Ennistymon, Clare, where he grew up. After many years teaching in Ireland, he returned to the States at age 35. Br. Quinn left multiple legacies to the College: his teaching as a distinguished member of the English faculty; his service as both Dean and Executive Vice-President; moderating the Pipe Band; writing the invaluable College history, Iona College: The First Fifty Years; and assembling his stunning Quinn Collection — nearly 10,000 volumes on all aspects of Irish history and culture, painstakingly gathered by him and donated week by week to Ryan Library over the decades. The best and most fitting honor for Br. Quinn was to be named Grand Marshall of the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New York City; that honor came in 1982. A man of profound faith and a giant among the Brothers, Br. Quinn is remembered with unclouded love and affection by scores of faculty, staff, and alumni.

County Mayo, landscape with sheep

Lastly, Br. Mark Jarlath Hunt (1912-1984) was the gift of Ballyhaunis, County Mayo. Even though (or perhaps because) he left Mayo at 17 to emigrate to the States, the bond to Mayo and his family remained strong, and he visited frequently. And Br. Hunt also had a special link to Edmund: like Edmund, he loved the Bible and was essentially self-taught. He had access to more courses and teachers than Edmund did (he was able to study at Catholic University), but his passion for scripture and liturgy came from within, and his ability to communicate his insights as a novice-master and to the Province leadership significantly shaped the modes of prayer life in the community, according to his biographer. He taught in the College from 1951 — for the most part scripture and the Fathers — and was greatly missed at his passing.

Trail’s End — Limerick

Limerick, across the Shannon looking toward King John's Castle

To say “I love Limerick” in Ireland is akin to saying “I love Newark” to a New Yorker — a serious crime problem in Limerick has made it unappealing to the Irish themselves. But to an American (me) living there for a semester in 2008, it was a very small, homey city with friendly neighbors, historic architecture, a vibrant immigrant community, and a startlingly good Farmer’s Market (Mario Batali would be happy shopping there! — and I suspect Newark is a wonderful place to live, too). Limerick will always feel like a second home to me now. So I stopped by to visit my Limerick friends, and bring my Edmund journey to an end.

Glenstal Abbey, Murroe, outside of Limerick

One place I did not get to visit while in Limerick was Glenstal Abbey, a Benedictine monastery about 12 miles outside the city. (I came down with a raging cold, alas.) But for Iona visitors to Ireland, it would make an excellent last stop on the journey.

St. Columba

Here’s why: the monastic strain is strong in the Brothers. Ireland went through four great flowerings of monks and the monastic life. In the first phase (500-900 or so) St. Columba and other great monks founded monasteries all over Ireland and beyond — including Iona itself. (Enter Vikings.) The next medieval phase (approx. 1100-1600) saw Benedictine, Cistercian, and Carthusian houses raised across the four provinces. (Enter the Reformation and Cromwell.) The third phase, arguably, belonged to Edmund, Nano Nagle, and other founders. At that point, all the great medieval foundations had been destroyed, and there were no monasteries in Ireland. But the holy founders were inspired by the monastic inheritance of faith, and adopted many of the same disciplines, building their community houses as “monasteries” and calling themselves “monks.” At the dedication of the O’Connell School in North Richmond Street in 1828, Daniel O’Connell called Edmund “the Patriarch of the Monks of the West.”

Cows grazing at Glenstal Farm

Finally, the fourth and current phase began after Land Reform in the 1920s — most of the British Landlords sold their great Irish estates (20,000 acres and up), and some friendly to the Catholics sold or gave land to religious orders. And that is how the Benedictines of Glenstal Abbey got started– in 1926, as a Belgian transplant, in an old manor house with 500 acres donated by a departing landlord. Today 40 Irish-born monks live in community and run a boys’ boarding school (and part of their land is given over to a dairy farm — Irish cows!). They trace their spiritual lineage all the way back to St. Columba, St. Kevin, and the other early Irish monks. It is a pleasure to stay at their guesthouse (as I did in 2008), go for long walks, attend their prayer-services (Gregorian chant, most in English, although Vespers is in Latin), and enjoy the peace of the monastery. Time and space are sanctified here as they were on the Isle of Iona and as they were at Mount Sion in Waterford. Even though it’s in a slightly different key, both St. Columba and Blessed Edmund would recognize the Abbey as home.

Let Us Now Praise Famous Gaels, Part IV

The Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary

From Cork and neighboring Tipperary, Iona College gained four fine teachers, none more important than Br. Edmond Richard Kiely (1899-1988, Tipperary). Br. Kiely spent forty-eight years at Iona College, from its founding to his death. He served both as chair of the Mathematics Department and as secretary of the Board of Trustees. At a time before Brothers routinely earned advanced degrees, he pursued his Masters (in English, from Fordham) and his PhD (in Education, from the Teachers College, Columbia). His dissertation on Surveying Instruments and their historical use in the classroom was a very “Edmund” project: the Brothers have always excelled in scientific and mathematical training, and Edmund ensured his students were equipped with practical, technical skills. Br. Kiely also researched and wrote an unpublished history of the college, which I look forward to reading soon. A true scholar, Br. Kiely was also a ruthless foe in handball and bridge. That competitive zeal helped make the College the place it is today.

Br. Patrick Emilian O’Ryan (1887-1961, Tipperary, and originally “Ryan”) came to Iona in 1952, late in his career. He had taught in several Irish schools before emigrating to New York in 1913, to assist Br. Lannon at All Hallows. His most lasting impact was at Leo High School in Chicago: as principal during the Depression, Br. O’Ryan led Leo to eminence in both academics and athletics. After serving as founding director of the Cardinal Farley Military Academy, he came to Iona. The Brothers remember his “natural dignity, poise, sociability, and smiling cordiality.”

Br. Richard Januarius O’Kelly (1898-1965, Cork, and originally “Kelly”) had taught in both Gibralter and Wuzhou, China (!) before joining the staff at St. Mary’s in Halifax. He made his way to All Hallows and then Iona, eventually becoming headmaster of Iona Prep. A prize story: “He loved to get behind the wheel of a car, although he was close to being the world’s worst driver. Stopped by a policeman for a traffic violation, Jan passed him his wallet with the remark, ‘Here. You find the license. I can’t see without my glasses.'”

Br. Michael Finbar Bradley (1927-1972) died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 45, but had already begun to leave his mark on Iona College. Br. Bradley was born in New York City; his family then returned to Ireland in 1932, and lived for a time in Cork, where Brother attended the famous North Monastery School before the family came back to the States. At Iona, Br. Bradley taught in the Religious Studies Department and served as faculty moderator of the ICANN. “He was strong in his religious life and in his dedication to his work and to his students.”

Gem at Mardyke

After a week of encounters with inspiring Christian Brothers, my journey ended on a another high note with a visit to Br. Stephen O’Gorman, a Presentation Brother. Br. O’Gorman lives in Cork at Mardyke House, an elegant (if well-worn) Georgian structure that doubles as a community for Presentation Brothers and as a Heritage Centre. It sits on a beautiful piece of land that stretches down to the River Lee. It was Br. O’Gorman who conceived and built a two-part meditation garden — the first part invites the viewer to contemplate the seven women who played a role in Edmund’s life, and the second part relates the story of the Presentation Brothers. The garden suffered badly (as did Mardyke House) when the River Lee burst its banks during floods in November 2009.

In Cork, the River Lee flooded in November, 2009

From the photograph above, you can appreciate how much work it has taken to set things right. Br. O’Gorman could go into a new line of work as a Contractor — he has had to supervise so many repairs to electric, plumbing, flooring, windows, and walls in their beautiful old house — and so the garden is still waiting for its repairs.

St. Teresa of Avila, Kyne Icon

But the visitor can still see the “bones” of the garden, and consider, as Br. O’Gorman expressed, the impact these many relationships had on Edmund — those with his mother, his wife, his daughter, his friend Mary Power, the influence of Nano Nagle, the inspiration of St. Teresa of Avila, and the care of the Blessed Virgin herself. I was very taken with Br. O’Gorman’s insight into the importance of simple family and friendship bonds to Edmund — whether the spiritual friend is a living person like Mary Power or a cherished model like St. Teresa or Nano Nagle.

Edmund’s life in Christ unfolded in a radically different way than that of most Catholic male clerics. For several centuries between the Middle Ages and the mid-twentieth century, the majority of clerics started in minor seminaries as boys, and lived in all-male society from that point forward. Often their only significant relationship with a female was with their own mother. By contrast, we can only imagine the transformative impact of Edmund’s relationships with his wife, Mary, and daughter (also Mary).  Edmund seems to have been completely at ease in the society of women. Even as a widower who chose not to remarry, he seemed to maintain good friendships with women (the one we know with certainty is Mary Power); was drawn to a female spiritual guide (St. Teresa); and befriended and supported the Presentation Sisters, as we have seen. Engaged in these circles of friendship with women, his life resembled that of the Apostle Paul or Jesus himself.

Detail, Icon by Desmond Kyne

Thanks be to you, Lord Jesus Christ, who drew Edmund to knowledge of Your Love through the patient friendship of women and men alike. As he opened wide his heart to the least of his brothers and sisters — so may we learn to risk our hearts and our compassion to gain the pearl of great price.

Edmund and Nano Nagle

Nano Nagle (1718-1784), Friend of the Poor

Every entrepreneur needs daring, creativity, and roots — roots to ground the visionary enterprise –, and as a spiritual entrepreneur, Edmund found his roots in the Sisters of the Presentation of Mary, founded by Nano Nagle. (“Nano,” in case you were wondering, is a shortened form of “Honora”.)

In the 1790s, Edmund was already trying to find a way forward, to do more for the poor of Waterford than engage in mere philanthropy, to live in a community even more committed than his spiritual circle at St. Patrick’s. The problem was a lack of models — at that time in Ireland, no male religious order seemed to fit his Call. A happy accident then occurred. Edmund’s friend, Fr. John Power (yes, the future bishop) heard the confession of a young servant-girl. Struck by her intelligence and understanding of the faith, he asked where she had gone to school, and she told him with the Presentation Sisters in Cork.

Nano Nagle, detail from Edmund Rice Icon

And that started Edmund’s discovery of an order which had the very features he sought: monastic discipline, life in community, solidarity with the poor, and an active apostolate (work-in-mission). Nagle was old enough to be Edmund’s grandmother — she had opened schools in Cork when he was still a farm-boy in Callan. But anticipating Edmund’s later call, she saw Christ in the poor and sought to liberate children from the darkness of vice through a sturdy education in secular skills and the Catholic faith. (Nano’s symbol is the Lantern; she used to go into the lanes and alleys of Cork after dark, searching for poor abandoned children with her lantern.)

After Fr. Power’s chance meeting, the Presentation Sisters soon opened a convent in Waterford. Edmund (still then a merchant) acted as a financial adviser and all evidence points to a warm, ongoing collaboration. When Edmund and seven other Brothers made their first profession of vows on 15 August 1808 (the Feast of the Assumption) , they did it in the Chapel of the Presentation Convent, just down the hill from Mount Sion. Edmund had adapted the Presentation “rule” (structure of spiritual life, community life, and work life) for his men. Edmund’s inner freedom to learn from and collaborate with a group of committed women is part of his appeal to the faithful today. (And if there were any justice in the canonization process, Nano Nagle would lead the way before Edmund, but I’m sure neither one is keeping score in heaven, only praying for us to work to our utmost!)

Cork, an Introduction

Cork, looking south from the River Lee over Mardyke and the University College Cork campus. Mardyke House, home to the Presentation Brothers, is at the far left, concealed in the trees.

Cork, on the South Coast, is Ireland’s second city — second only to Dublin in terms of size and influence — and it played an out-sized role in Edmund’s own story. A very practical visionary named Nano Nagle had founded an order of Sisters in Cork — the Presentation Sisters — and her example influenced Edmund as he was starting the Christian Brothers in Waterford. Twenty years later, a quarrel over governance (yes, a bishop was involved!) resulted in a split — and some of the Christian Brothers in Cork became “Presentation Brothers.”

These Brothers, then, are half-siblings to our own line of Christian Brothers, and as I learned, they love and honor Edmund every bit as much as “our” Brothers do.

Coastal Drive

The Coast Drive from Tramore (south of Waterford) west to Dungarvan has some mighty views. (RPD photo)

A Word on Irish Food

The Stag's Head in Dublin -- one of many good places to eat.

Growing up on a farm, and later prospering as a merchant, Edmund must have eaten some wonderful food — before he gave it all up to lead a truly ascetic life as a Brother (reading about their minimal diet in those early days is fairly harrowing). So this “chowhound” post is dedicated to the Early Edmund who delighted in Irish dairy and beef and pork and seafood, whose earliest memories were bound up with the delicious smells from his mother’s kitchen…

I have heard many Americans lament the quality of the food in Ireland and this always leaves me at a loss. In my own experience, if you exercise a little bit of common sense and invest some time in internet research, you can eat extremely well coast-to-coast in Ireland. (And I freely admit I’ve been motivated to seek out good food to uphold our strong family history of wonderful cooks, especially Rose Keeley Plunkett and Grace Rourke Dolan, my grandmothers.) The Irish have excellent ingredients and a proud tradition of cooking that survived the disastrous famines of the nineteenth century.

Common Sense: The place that claims to serve “Probably the Best Pizza in the Whole World” doesn’t. (But learning to steer clear of such places is a basic skill for any traveler in any country, isn’t it?) Pubs that serve exotic fare like “toasties” and “baps” are a decent bet — you can tell by the menu they are feeding locals year-round and so can’t afford to serve sub-par fare like the alleged “panini” I ordered in one pub. [That obvious mistake is all on me…].

In Kilkenny, we had a great meal at Campagne -- and the service was as good as any you'd get in Manhattan.

Research: The Rough Guide and Lonely Planet are reliable. Double-check on Irish foodie websites for the most up-to-date listings. Note that most pubs and some restaurants serve lunch. Only restaurants (and a few “gastro-pubs”) serve dinner. Carvery lunches can be both delicious and massive — you might not want to attempt a carvery lunch and a full dinner the same day. Here’s where we had some wonderful food in July 2010…

In Dublin: The Stag’s Head (pub), Beshoff’s (fish ‘n chips), Ragazzi (Dalkey) — The Brothers kept feeding us wonderful food in Dublin, so we have fewer places to mention; In Kilkenny: Campagne; In Waterford: The Munster (pub), Bodega, L’Atmosphere, The Granary Cafe; In Cork: Rearden’s (pub), Market Lane. Additional recommendations (places that are well-reviewed, but we didn’t have time to get to): in Dublin — The Winding Stair, Gruel, Pichet, Pig’s Ear, One Pico. In Kilkenny — Zuni and Cafe Sol. In Cork– Fenns Quay, Cafe Paradiso (vegetarian), Boqueria, An Cruibin.

May you feast not just with your eyes, but also with your bellies in Ireland.

In Waterford, Bodega serves Pain Perdu with fresh fruit (French Toast to us).