Ray Ryan was an engineer who worked for Kildare County Council and had an enormous love of nature and landscape. He used his considerable skills as an artist to capture, in a number of different mediums, a wide range of the attributes of God’s creation.
It was while indulging in his great joy of walking the fields in the neighbourhood of his home that the inspiration for much of Ray’s beautiful pictures frequently came to him. Being a regular participant in the Kildare Arts Festival where he exhibited and sold much of his work, Ray’s continued contributions there will be greatly missed.
Being a man of faith, in a short period prior to his death, Ray contacted Sr. Fiachra of the Card Department at Glencairn. He explained that in years past he had shared much of his work with the late Fr Denis Collins OCSO of Mt Melleray who had used it to produce cards which were sold in the gift shop there. His request was that the digital images he had, might be used to continue this tradition… to give glory to God possibly with the addition of suitable quotations from the Psalms.
]]>Allison was born in a small Canadian West Coast town called Powell River, where the natural world and all its beauty surrounded her.
As far back as she can remember, she always had an interest in arts and crafts.
"I would have to say my mother is my main influencer - from a very early age she encouraged and guided me. She taught me to appreciate the natural world and taught me the skills involved in capturing what I saw onto paper."
Allison studied fine arts at art college and a few years later followed this up with a B Comm International (BCIT) - a multidisciplinary degree in computer systems.
Allison says she is not much good at watercolours (but is improving with practice), she was never trained in oils and finds acrylics very forgiving. "Acrylics are great. They tend to dry quickly so if you make a 'mistake' you can simply paint over it".
In 2003 Allison moved to Ireland with her fiancé Kevin and since their marriage, has been living in the Irish midlands. Surrounded by a different but still natural world, a lot of her more recent artwork is of dogs, livestock, and farming themes.
More information about Allison and a portfolio of her past artwork can be found at www.afinart.com
]]>I first entered the Benedictines but subsequently transferred to the Cistercians. And here I am at Glencairn. I have survived alcoholism (not mine) and cancer (mine) and have been blessed in the School of Love and the power of Christ’s grace.
My love of all creatures great and small began at home in my mother’s wonderful garden, in the company of her first pet cat, Tiger, who travelled with us from England in 1973.
My Mum had a great appreciation of the English garden and brought that back with her when she returned to Ireland. She dug out two ponds, fed the birds, delighted the squirrels with copious peanuts, disposed of leftovers to the fox and banged on the window as the heron hovered over the pond. My brother and I played with the tadpoles and frogs, chased butterflies and smashed her flowers when playing football.
At the time I didn’t realize how deeply all this was impressing itself upon my soul, because like many kids I just took it all for granted. I was always mad about our pet cats, they were like real members of the family.
The community here have always had dogs, which was a massive treat for me. A four-legged animal that actually wanted to go for walks, swim in the river and just kept smiling at you! I was also part of the milking team when we had a dairy herd here and became responsible for looking after the calves for a period of four years.
During the first COVID lockdown our Abbess challenged me to “see if you can be a positive presence on social media”. We already had a Facebook page so I thought I would explore Twitter. I found its style suited me because I am drawn to visuals and am naturally brief. I had a camera and started to take pictures from my perspective.
The response on Twitter was very positive and appreciative and thus I gradually came to realize I have some talent and Glencairn has a lot to offer. Our surroundings are rich with wildlife of all kinds - we are spoilt for choice - so to be able to share its’ bounty with others is both a pleasure and a gift.
Sr. Michelle Miller
]]>
Jack was born in Dublin on April 30th 1935. While he regarded himself as a Dub, he did most of his growing up on a dairy farm in Leixlip, Co. Kildare to which his family moved when he was 2 or 3 years old. He had a great love of nature all his life and this is reflected in his many watercolour paintings of seascapes and mountains.
Jack studied engineering in Bolton street and later in London and was a very skilled draftsman for which he had a natural gift. Drawing and sketching came easily to him, in work and for pleasure. The precision and attention to detail he was known for can be seen clearly in his pencil and charcoal sketches.
Jack began with pencil and charcoal sketching and later in life began to experiment with watercolours. He joined the local art group, took courses and bought books. He was still learning and doing courses into his late 70's. He would sit in the living room at home, where the light was best, to paint. He also had the attic space set up with his drawing board and paints. He tried wet on wet and soaked canvases in the bath tub. He loved the sky and clouds but apparently was never happy with his reproduction. Perhaps he felt it didn't do justice to Gods handiwork.
Jack would take photos when on holidays or just out for the day, scenes that he liked or buildings that interested him. He would then transfer them to paper at home. He also used his skill to draw up plans for various extensions on his own home and those of family members. He often doodled on odd pieces of paper, which were popular with his work colleagues, who would sometimes take them home. He was full of kindness and generosity and is remembered for his firm handshake and great big hugs. We are sure he would be delighted and not a little surprised that beautiful cards now being produced from his artwork.
]]>This is a genuine question – we don’t know the answer.
The logo, which we have put on all our Christmas cards this year, and which is currently the header on the shop webpage, appears on some of her early Christmas card designs.
It shows a nun under a tree, with her back to the tree trunk but not quite leaning against it. The tree – and the nun’s cowl – are blowing in the wind, and leaves are blowing off the branches and away on the breeze.
Down the side of the logo is the word “Cistercian”, and underneath, “Glencairn Abbey” in lettering that Sr Paula later used as text on the front of cards.
It is almost certainly a self-portrait of some kind. The cowl, guimp and veil are exactly what the nuns at Glencairn wore in the 1950s and 60s. And artists usually incorporate their own signature into the work in some way.
But what does it mean? The figure of the nun is very tall, with her head up in the branches of the tree – or perhaps the tree has very low branches.
Some suggest that it represents a line from the Song of Songs (a Biblical text very important in Cistercian spirituality): “Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved… In his delightful shade I sit, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.” Apple trees have low branches, certainly, but this figure is not sitting. And there is no fruit in evidence. (If this were the correct interpretation of the logo, it would represent the intimate loving relationship of the nun with our Lord).
Another suggestion is that Sr Paula’s initial, “P” can be seen here, the trunk of the tree forming the leg of the letter and the branches forming the curve. But we are not convinced of this.
Can you suggest what this logo might represent? Please let us know in the comments below. We look forward to your suggestions!
]]>This seems to be one of the last Christmas cards that Sr Paula designed, when her interest was turning more towards iconography (to which she eventually dedicated her artistic life completely).
It shows a Virgin and Child in icon style, probably influenced by e.g. the icon known as the Virgin of Tenderness. Characteristics of the icon style which can be seen here include:
- the adult face of the child Jesus. This image invites us to a relationship with an adult Christ, whose penetrating gaze meets ours and asks us to stay, to remain in relationship with him.
- both the Virgin and the Child look towards us, not at each other. They engage with us, their concern is us, that we not only look on an image of them but meet them in a personal encounter.
- The Virgin’s hands point to Christ, indicating that he is the important one, and that her desire is to lead us to him.
- The way the Child has his arms placed around his mother’s neck is very tender and gentle. He is not clinging to her as a baby clings to its mother out of need, but touching her with divine love and care. He offers us the same tender love.
- The Child’s halo contains within it the symbol of the cross. In iconographic symbolism, only Christ’s halo contains a cross, indicating his passion; the haloes of the Virgin and other saints do not have this element.
Features in this card which differ from typical icons are
- the standing pose of the Child. Usually he is represented sitting on Mary’s lap; his pose here is more reminiscent of a statue than of a traditional icon.
- the Virgin’s hair is visible, not covered by her veil. Thus we see only one of the usual three stars on her garments: the three stars represent her virginity “before, during, and after the birth” of Christ. Usually two stars appear on her cloak, one on each side, and the third on the veil on her head. Here there is only one star visible, since the figure of the child obscures one arm, and her veil is not visible.
There is no Christmas without Mary. She gives us Christ, gives birth to him at Bethlehem but also continues to offer him to us today, showing him to us and leading us to him.
This beautiful card is worth contemplating not just at Christmas, but at any time of year.
The greeting inside reads Wishing you a joyful and happy Christmas (English); Go raibh solas Chríost i do chroí agus i gcroí gach duine atá ag cuimhneamh ort an Nollaig seo (Irish).
It is available here (English) and here (Irish).
Thanks to Clare McReynolds for her help with this reflection.
]]>Here we have quite a different kind of card, apparently a rather non-religious one. There is no crib, no infant, no holy family, no shepherds, no magi; there is just the word “Noël” in unusual lettering, and some holly leaves and berries, on an abstract yellow background. Was Sr Paula catering here for people who would like to send a Glencairn card but don’t want anything too overtly “holy”?
Perhaps – but the card may not be quite as non-religious as it initially seems. It is certainly not in the same category as those which send “Winter Wishes” or celebrate “December holidays”. Noël is the French word for Christmas, which became popular in English in the nineteenth century particularly in carols and on Christmas cards. It is a definite reference to the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, the Incarnation of the Word of God. How many of us can hear – or see – the word and not immediately think of the carol “The first Nowell…”, which is all about the angels and shepherds and the birth of the baby Jesus? And the large, strong, black letters make this the dominant feature of the card. So it is definitely a Christian message. In fact, just to say “Noël” alone, without any other text, is a kind of faith-statement. It says, “I believe in Christmas; I believe that Jesus, born in Bethlehem, is the Son of God made flesh.”
The style of the letters is like the style used in the depiction of the Wise Men in the card we featured yesterday: each letter with two halves in different styles, playing on mirror images and the interplay of positive and negative, presence and absence. The lettering seems extraordinarily contemporary – it might almost have been computer-generated. But no, it came from Sr Paula’s hand in the 1970s.
The holly leaves in the top left of the card also use this style: one half of each leaf is depicted by a solid outline, the other just suggested by short strokes. The two dots of the umlaut over the letter “e” are mirrored in the dots used for the holly berries.
Branches, foliage and berries of holly are typically used as a Christmas decoration, at least in some parts of the world. But holly is not a religious symbol. So why is it used here? And why not use red and green, the actual colours of holly and the traditional colours used on Christmas cards – why use yellow? And what does that abstract yellow symbolize anyway?
Sr Paula has not left us any record of her intention, except what we see in the card itself. Here is one possible interpretation: the three holly leaves, taken together, may possibly represent a star in the sky (or God? three = Trinity?) with the diagonal line formed by the central stem of the lower right holly leaf pointing downward to the “Noël” text, just as so many other of Sr Paula’s cards include a star whose rays point to the infant.
The fluid yellow background then represents the world, or the universe. Other of Sr Paula’s later cards (not reprinted this year) include a cosmic dimension – Mary holding Christ over a globe-like symbol, for instance. The idea of the birth of Christ as an event of universal significance was something that she was incorporating into her designs at this time. Here, from the holly-star (the divinity), emanates the power of “Noël”, the strong, definite force which comes into the indefinite, amorphous universe.
The message inside the card reads: Joyous Greetings to you at Christmas and a very happy New year (English); Beannachtaí na Nollag agus na hAthbhliana (Irish).
]]>Today’s featured card is C17, Wise Men Found Him.
This card is unusual, both in the style used to depict the Magi, and in the way the card opens – it does not open in the middle, but part-way across, so that the red panel on the extreme right of the card is always visible, whether the card is open or closed. It also makes the card wider than usual.
The red panel shows us the infant, asleep. The large star at the top represents God, or the heavens from which he came, and the perpendicular rays draw our eyes from the star down to Jesus, indicating the descent in humility which he took on at his birth in human form. The Magi “saw his star at its rising” (Mt 2:2) and came to worship him.
On the front left, three figures approach, painted in green, black and white. Other cards from this period (1970s?) show that at this time Sr Paula was experimenting with the concept of positive/negative or presence/absence in images. Here each of the figures is shown half in black, half in either green or white. one half of suggesting the other half. The figures are elongated, the depiction symbolic: straight lines suggest shoulders and feet, hands are not shown, facial features are absent except for small marks for eyes. Each one has a slightly different kind of crown, making them three different individuals; at the same time the crowns make these figures almost like chess pieces. In every way they are iconic rather than realistic. They bear three different kinds of container, which we know from St Matthew contain gold, frankincense and myrrh (Mt 2:11).
The three figures are oriented towards the infant. The wise men came “from the east”. They travel from a distance, cleverly indicated by the extra-wide card – they have a long way to cover. And they travel not just horizontally across the page but also downwards, each one being slightly lower than the one behind. The journey to Jesus is a journey in humility; our coming to him involves self-abasement and becoming little like him.
The text “Wise Men Found Him” is also written with just one word on each line (like "Come Let Us Adore Him", C11), bringing our eyes down the page, another exercise in lowering ourselves, coming down to the level of the lowly infant. The dash after “Him” points straight across to Jesus, leaving us in no doubt about where our attention is to be focused.
The omission of the definite article is also interesting: Sr Paula has not written “The Wise Men…”, but simply “Wise Men…” There is a suggestion here that seeking and finding Jesus is not just for the three of whom St Matthew speaks, but of anyone wise, including ourselves. It is an invitation for us to be wise, and to seek and find the Lord.
So far, so good. But there is one tiny detail which, when examined, turns this into a most extraordinary card. Those lines emanating from the pillow on which Jesus’ head is lying – what are they? Here, Sr Paula has inserted a secret message.
Turn the card sideways, and this is what we get:
The now vertical line is the upright of a cross; the other lines are the cross-bar. And the sleeping infant becomes the crucified Christ, with his head bowed in the sleep of death.
The Wise Men’s journey is not just to the baby in Bethlehem; it is to the cross on Calvary. In this is wisdom; and this is where we too will find him.
The text inside the card reads “Christmas Joy” (in the same calligraphy as the text on the outside of the card). It is available only in English.
]]>Today’s featured card is C12, Holy Family.
This is a simple, beautiful card; a traditional Christmas scene showing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Mary holds the baby on her lap. But she is not holding him in close to herself; she holds him gently out a little, non-possessively offering him to all the world, because although he is her child, he is not hers alone: he has come into the world for the sake of everyone. She gazes thoughtfully at the baby, completely focused on him.
Joseph is also looking at the child with joy – perhaps we see in his face too something of the slight apprehension or bemusement of a new father? His hand, pointing to Jesus, along with Mary’s hand, directs our attention to the child, the main focus of the scene. Joseph’s other arm is outstretched, holding his staff, surrounding his family in a strong gesture of protection.
The child Jesus – alarmingly devoid of even the soft downy hair of a newborn! – does not look at either of the adults, but directs his eyes elsewhere. His world and his future are not limited to the place of his birth and those immediately around him.
Outside, the night sky is full of stars which penetrate the darkness – one main star, whose rays point down to the stable and the child, and lots of smaller stars. And yes, while Sr Paula has painted most of the stars in traditional five-pointed shape, some among them are in the shape of a cross.
An interesting feature of this card is that we are not looking at the scene from outside. Often in nativity scenes we look through a doorway into the stable, but here we, the viewers, are inside, forming part of the company in the stable, and we can see out through the arched doorway into the dark night. We are already situated, as it were, in the light of the newborn Christ – why would we want to go back out into the darkness again?
Little details in the scene such as Joseph’s sandals and the strength conveyed in the grip of his right hand on the staff make this a card that is both attractive and robust.
The greeting inside the card is in both English and Irish:
Blessings and Peace at Christmas
Beannachtaí agus Síocháin um Nollaig
You can find this card here.
]]>Inniu caithimid súil ar an gcárta C16, Íosagán.
Feicimid anseo an leanbh beag ina luí ar rud éigin bog agus clúmhach (an scamall é?). Aithnímid gurb é an leanbh Íosa é de bharr a lios agus, ar ndóigh, de bharr a ainm scríofa os a choinn. Tá spideog ag eitilt i dtreo an linbh, a bhéal ar oscailt, agus spideog eile ag canadh ar an dtaobh dheas lastuas.
Ciureann an modh bídeach den ainm (ní amháin “Íosa” é, ach Íosagán) béim ar laghad agus éislinneacht an naíonain. Maothann sé ár gcroíthe... ach, mar a chonaiceamar sa chárta C11 (The Infant ~ Come Let Us Adore Him), ní amháin dearadh binn atá againn anseo.
Tá fhios againn anois go raibh an bhaint idir breith ár Slánaitheora agus a chrois an-thábhtach don tSiúr Paula, agus gur chuimsigh sí seo go minic ina ndearaí. ’Sé seo atá againn le Íosagán.
Ar an gcéad dul síos, nach píosa den choróin dheilgneach é an foras ar a sheasann na litreacha den ainm? Léimid sa Soiscéal, san cur síos ar Pháis Chríost: Rinne [na saighdiúirí] coróin dheilgneach a fhí agus a chur air (Marcas 15:17). Is craobh solúbtha atá againn anseo, le deilgne a dhíríonn ar an leanbh (laistíos den “G”agus den “N”), le cuma stuach mar phíosa den choróin.
Léimid fós gurb é uair a bháis an t-am eile i shaol ár Shlánaitheora ina raibh a ainm scríofa os a chionn: Cuireadh scribhinn os a chionn ag insint cúis a dhaortha: “Is é seo Íosa, Rí na nGiúdach” (Matha 27:37).
Agus, mar gheall ar an spideog: tá finscéal tradisiúinta ann a insíonn conas a bhfuair an spideog a hucht dearg. Nuair a bhí Íosa ar an gcrois, chonaic spideog donn simplí é. Ba mhian leis an spideog cabhair a thabhairt do Íosa; mar sin thuirling sé agus phioc sé dealg as an gcoróin, chun a phian a íslú. Agus sin á dhéanamh aige, thit braon fola ar ucht na spideoige agus d’fhan sé ann. Ón lá sin, coimeádann an spideog a hucht dearg, mar comhartha dá chuid maitheasa don Tiarna.
Is féidir linn anáil an fhinscéal seo a fheiscint anseo. Tagann an spideog, a mharc dearg an-ghlé, ón choróin mar comhartha fháidhiúil, mar a déarfá, den Pháis.
Níl aon eagla ar an leanbh roimh teachtaireacht na spideoige: is cosúil go bhfuil sé ag cur fáilte roimhe, lena dearcadh neamhchorrach agus a láimhe oscailte. Tugaimid faoi dheara freisin go bhfuil sé feistithe in éadaí fuil dearg. [Deir] Críost agus é ag teacht isteach sa saol seo: Níorbh áil leat iobart ná tabhartas; ach d’ullmhaigh tú corp dom... Táim ag teacht, a Dhia, chun do thoil a dhéanamh (Eabh. 10:5-6).
Mar sin, sa leanbh beag seo feicimid Íosa mar an té a shábháilfidh sinn trína bhás agus trína aiséirí.
An teacs laistigh: Tá Mac Dé féin tar éis teacht chun chónaí inár measc: Bíodh áthas agus gliondar orainn!
Tá an cárta seo ar fáil i nGaeilge amháin.
Translation:
Card of the day: Íosagán
Today we are looking at card C16, Íosagán.
Here we see the little child lying on something soft and fluffy (is it a cloud?). We know that it is the baby Jesus because of his halo and, of course, from his name written above him. There is a robin flying towards the infant, its mouth open, and another robin singing on the right side above.
The diminutive version of the name (he is not just “Jesus”, but “little Jesus”) emphasises the weakness and vulnerability of the baby. It softens our hearts... but, as we saw with card C11 (The Infant ~ Come Let Us Adore Him), what we have here is not just a sweet design.
We know by now that the link between the birth of our Saviour and his cross was very important for Sr Paula, and that she often included it in her designs. That is what we have here with Íosagán.
In the first place, is not the base on which the letters of the name are standing a piece of the crown of thorns? We read in the Gospel, in the account of Christ’s Passion: The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and placed it on him (Mark 15:17). What we have here is a pliable branch, with thorns pointing to the child (under the “G” and the “N”), in the shape of an arc like a piece of a crown.
We also read that the time in the Saviour’s life when his name was written over his head was the hour of his death: Above his head was placed the written charge against him: this is Jesus, the King of the Jews (Matthew 27:37).
And concerning the robin: there is a traditional fable which tells how the robin got his red breast. When Jesus was on the cross, a plain brown robin saw him. The robin wanted to help Jesus, so he came down and picked a thorn from the crown, to alleviate his pain. In doing this, a drop of blood fell onto the robin’s breast and stayed there. From that day, the robin has kept his red breast, as a sign of his goodness to the Lord.
We can see the influence of this fable here. The robin comes, his red mark very clear, from the crown, a prophetic sign, as it were of the Passion
The child has no fear of the robin’s message: it seems as though he is welcoming it, with his steady gaze and open arms. We also notice that he is already dressed in blood-red clothes. When Christ came into the world he said, You have prepared a body for me... Here I am, O God, to do your will (Heb 10:5-6).
So in this little baby we see Jesus as the one who will save us through his death and resurrection.
The text inside the card (trans): The Son of God himself has come to live among us: let us rejocie and be glad!
This card is available only in Irish.
]]>This is a card full of joy and festivity and fun!
“Behold,” said the angel of the Lord to the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks at night near Bethlehem, “I bring you glad tidings of great joy for all the people: this day a Saviour has been born for you” (Lk 2:10-11). The words “glad tidings” which Sr Paula chose to illustrate here may also be translated as “good news”.
The three angels here are making music, dancing, sliding, delighting and rejoicing! Compared to the angels from the angel choir (card C15), these are more childlike, lighthearted, even giddy. The enormous “G” is used like a playground climbing-frame: one angel sits inside it, blowing a trumpet for all the world to hear; another slides down the outside with arms and feet outstretched (“Look, no hands!”); the third has just landed – we know this from the streaming robe and its ribbon – to balance lightly with a foot on top of the letter “l” and a hand on the “G”, peeping at the trumpet-player.
There is no one focal point here. Unlike the designs where all the lines lead to the newborn infant, here the relationship between the three angels draws our eyes constantly around in a circle, from the top of the arc of the “G” down to the lower curve, then back up the straight line to the next intersection, and up through that angel’s wings back to the top of the letter again. The angels are not an end in themselves. Movement is also established by the ripple of the angels’ robes and the fluttering of their wings.
Though they are rather similar-looking, the angels are all individual, indicated by the different design of their robes.
The angels (again like those in the other angel card) are located among the stars. Stars are above them and around them, and also below them where they act as the dots on the letters “i” and “j”. In the lettering too we find the cross symbol, both in the two letters “t” and as the punctuation mark at the end.
Is the number three significant? There were three angels also on the other card… is it a hint at the three angels who appeared to Abraham at his tent in the form of travelers, to whom he offered hospitality (Genesis 18)? They are sometimes understood as a foreshadowing of the revelation of God as Trinity, three persons in one.
And should we read anything into Sr Paula’s depiction of the angels as having black skin? It might be nice to think of this as a gesture of inclusivity, or a denial of the traditional association of sin and darkness, goodness and light; but perhaps it is simply dictated by the constraints on the number of colours that printing technology could handle when this card was first issued (probably the late 1960s or early 1970s). Recall too that the figures in the Holy Night card have navy blue skin…
This is a card to enjoy and to bring cheer wherever it is displayed.
On the inside the card bears the text from Luke 2:10-11 quoted above, and the joyful greeting “Happy Christmas!”
It is available only in English.
]]>St Matthew tells us that when Jesus was a baby, King Herod, hearing that a new king had been born somewhere in his territory, and fearing this rival for his position, ordered all male children under two years old to be killed. So Joseph took Mary and Jesus and fled to Egypt for safety, returning only when the slaughter had finished. It is not uncommon to represent this event in Christmas scenes, even though its sombre tone is different from the more usual joyful atmosphere associated with Jesus’ birth.
Sr Paula’s depiction of the flight into Egypt is conveyed with very simple lines. Just the minimum necessary is included to portray the two adults, the infant, and the sturdy donkey: a few lines for their robes, a simple dot for the baby, the outline of the animal. Facial features are omitted, in a sense making these people anonymous, or representative of every fugitive.
The sweep of all the lines points in the direction they are going. A sense of haste is conveyed by the flowing, curved line at the top of the card, and by the lift of the donkey’s foreleg.
The scene is stark. The couple have no belongings other than the precious infant in Mary’s arms, and Joseph’s staff, carried by a traveler on a journey. The couple’s heads are bent sorrowfully, Joseph looking at the road on which they are going, Mary at the infant she is protecting. Only the donkey looks ahead.
Another donkey will one day carry Jesus into Jerusalem, on Palm Sunday, days before his passion, death and resurrection, the last days of his life.
The line at the top of the scene, flowing from left to right, gives not only a sense of direction and speed, it may also symbolize protection – though this family is fleeing from danger, they are protected by the cloud of God’s presence (as was Israel in the desert wanderings after the Exodus), or under the protecting wings of the Holy Spirit.
Two small dashes of colour in the lower corners of the card indicate a whole landscape, suggesting mountains, sand, distance, arid ground.
This card keeps before our minds the situation and stories of refugees and migrants all over the world today.
The verse inside the card is from St. Matthew: Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went into Egypt. The greeting is May the birth of our Saviour bring peace and joy to you and to all the world.
It is available in both English and Irish versions.
Our next reflection in this series will be posted on Monday.
]]>Around Christmas time we will frequently hear Adolphe Adam’s popular “O Holy Night”, which sings of the “Holy night when Christ was born.” The Gospel doesn’t actually tell us at what time of day Jesus was born, but it is traditionally understood to have been at midnight. The book of Wisdom says that “All was silence and night had run just half of its course, when your all-powerful Word, Lord, leaped down from heaven.” So developed the custom of having Mass at midnight to celebrate Christ’s birth.
In the scene on this card, the newborn infant lies in his crib, watched and adored by the Virgin Mary and St Joseph. Once again, the infant is in the lowest position on the card. He has humbled himself and come down to earth, as a tiny child, in the lowest place, laid in a manger. His surroundings are utterly simple – his very basic crib, his plain swaddling blanket, the unadorned clothes of Mary and Joseph.
All the lines point to him. The rays of the star lead our gaze down to him. The position of the adult figures, the direction of their gaze, the line formed by the three haloes, the little line formed by the bent fingers of Joseph’s hand, all draw us to Jesus. Though he is apparently the lowest and least, he is in fact the centre of all that is happening.
Just two colours are used in the card: dark blue and silver. The silver is found in the star and in the haloes, representing divinity and, as with the Infant (Come Let us Adore) card, tells us that the infant has his origin in the heavens.
And see: here is the cross again. This time it is not just the letter “t” (in “night”), but two other crosses are added, one “dotting” the “i” and the other as a kind of punctuation mark at the end. They are undeniably crosses, reminding us that the child whose birth we celebrate is also the one who will die on the cross for our salvation. And these crosses are in silver, for the cross too is transformed by God into a pathway to glory.
We do not see the features of the faces of the three people in this scene, apart from the eyelashes of Mary and Joseph – and yet the artist is so skillful that these truly are faces, people that we can relate to.
The arc of the capital H can be seen as the frame or doorway of the stable at Bethlehem, over which the star is shining. Or the thick hump of the arc, through which the divine light from the star is penetrating, can be seen as the barrier which had been established by sin between God and humanity: through the birth of Christ that barrier is now penetrated, as heaven has truly come down to earth.
What are those stalks emerging from the crib? Jesus’ crib was a manger, a feeding-trough for animals – are they stalks of hay? Or wheat? They seem like something fruitful, edible… is this a sign that Jesus himself will become our food, bread for the world? And these stalks are leaning not towards Jesus but out to all corners of the world, which he will feed with his own flesh and blood.
Finally, the text “Holy Night” itself leads us to think of the other “Holy Night” celebrated in the liturgy, the night of the Easter Vigil and the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, to which this Holy Night of Christmas is oriented.
Inside, the card includes the text of a beautiful antiphon from the Christmas liturgy: All that the prophets foretold is fulfilled. Christ is born of the Virgin Mary; like rain falling gently on the earth he comes to save his people.
And the greeting is: May this holy night fill you and your loved ones with an abundance of blessings.
This card is available only in English.
]]>This is quite a different style than the two cards we have already considered. The very simple, quiet depiction of the baby in the crib takes up less than one third of the card, while the text is centrally positioned.
The baby in the crib is identified as the holy Infant by his halo. He sleeps peacefully – how skillfully his closed eyes are conveyed through one simple line! And what gorgeous eyelashes he has, not to mention that little tuft of uncombed hair at the back of his head. We see the curve of his little knees under the gently hanging blanket… He is a beautiful, sweet baby.
But this is not just a cute baby picture. The text above it hits us with force: Come let us adore Him. We adore God alone. We do not adore Mary or the saints or anyone else, despite misunderstandings or misrepresentations of what Catholics believe – only God is to be adored. This baby is God, the Word made flesh. And our response is not simply to delight in the cuteness evoked by a newborn, but also to adore him as our God.
The invitation Come let us adore Him is found in several Christmas hymns and carols, such as Adeste Fideles… venite, adoremus… (O come, all ye faithful… O come, let us adore him…). It is also found in the first words of the liturgy sung in the monastery every day (or on the lips of anyone who prays the Divine Office), in the invitatory antiphon. During the Octave of Christmas the antiphon text is: Christ has been born for us: come, let us adore him.
In the design, the infant in the crib is at the bottom of the card. He has descended from on high, humbling himself, becoming one of the lowest. As we read the text, laid out with just one word on each line, our eyes are led down to him. The text is not an end in itself; it leads us to the one of whom it speaks.
There are no other figures in this scene; no Mary or Joseph, no angels, shepherds, or magi. Our focus is entirely on the newborn infant. Him alone do we adore, and there is nothing else to take our attention away from him.
The predominant colour here is red, with a little gold. The gold appears in the infant’s halo, a symbol of his divinity. It is also found in the single star at the top of the card, which we can see as also depicting the divinity. The star links the infant to the heavens from which he has come. He has come down, bringing his divinity with him, so to speak, and uniting it with human nature. Ultimately he will return to the heavens, bringing his humanity back there with him, and us also.
Gold also is used to depict the straw which forms the infant’s bed. Though he was God, he had to be laid in a manger in a borrowed stable. He became not just human, but poor. Yet the straw, symbol of that poverty, is the same colour as the halo and the star, for God is not absent from all that is poor and lowly.
We mentioned in an earlier reflection that there is often a cross someplace in Sr Paula’s nativity scenes, a quiet pointer to the link between the incarnation and the death and resurrection of Christ. That cross can be found here in the form of the letter “t” in the word “let”.
The greeting inside the card reads May the Divine Infant bless you at Christmas. It is available only in English.
]]>Angels, Scripture says, are “ministering spirits, sent out to serve.” They are messengers; they receive a message from God and bring it to some person or people. After an angel had spoken to the shepherds near Bethlehem and told them of the birth of the Saviour, “at once with the angel there was a great throng of the hosts of heaven, praising God with the words Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours.” In this scene we catch a glimpse of some of that great throng.
It is a scene full of energy and movement! All the lines are flowing, swirling, moving. The arrangement of the three angel faces is such that as our eyes follow from one to the other, we who look at the card are drawn into that circle of exuberance and flow.
The three are playing different stringed and wind instruments: trumpet, lyre and harp, all mentioned in the psalms as instruments used to praise God. At least one angel is singing with full voice. They are putting all their hearts and energy and intensity into their music-making: every bit of their “body” is concentrated; their arms and fingers are extended, reaching out as far as they can, just as their message reaches out with urgency to the universe.
There is no doubt that these figures are “up in the sky” – there are stars not just above their heads, but also all around them; the angels are in the stars.
The three figures do not face each other, they are looking outwards, in different directions. Their message is directed outwards, for the whole world to hear.
Angels are neither male nor female. In depicting these figures with long hair and without beards, Sr Paula was following an artistic tradition of rendering angels not as male, but as androgynous. Their wings are large, strong and forceful – even folded up, they are bursting out beyond the border of the card itself!
Printing technology at the time this card was designed meant that only a limited number of colours could be used. Everything here is rendered in green and gold. The angel’s robes are green and white, but not uniform; each one is unique. (And are those little green shamrocks on the harp?)
The greeting inside the card is in both English and Irish, and puts into words the message that the angels are delivering:
- Glory to God in the highest! Christ the Saviour is born!
- Glóir do Dhia ’sna hárda! Go raibh síocháin Dé inár measc.
You can find this card here.
Tomorrow we will feature another card.
]]>This seems to be one of Sr Paula’s earliest designs, dating perhaps from the late 1950s or early 1960s. Her typical designs from this period fill the whole frame with detail, right out to the border.
We notice that
- The infant Jesus is in the lowest corner of the card. He who has left the heavens and come down has truly humbled himself and takes the very lowest place, resting in the arm of his mother.
- The shepherds gaze at the infant in awe and reverence. They recognize that this is not just any newborn infant but, as they have heard from the angels, “a Saviour… Christ the Lord”, and they respond with adoration.
- The faces of the three shepherds are distinct, unique; each one has his own personality and story. The older man at the front has a more worn, experienced face; the younger two more innocent and open. The older one clutches his hand to his breast, stunned by the recognition of the divine, unselfconsciously adoring.
- The infant looks back at the shepherds, directing his gaze to them. He also stretches out his little hands slightly towards them – this is a feature of Sr Paula’s earliest depictions of the infant: he is reaching out to his own people, already wanting to touch them, to connect with them, to give himself to them.
- The Virgin Mary is displaying her Son for the shepherds to see, but she is not making eye contact with them. She seems to be lost in her own thoughts, “pondering in her heart” the amazing things that are happening as she brings the Son of God into the world. She is serene and graceful in her role.
- Outside, there are trees. Not so unusual, one might think, just a typical feature of the landscape? Perhaps, but a consideration of Sr Paula’s cards reveals that very often in her nativity scenes there is a symbol of the cross. Sometimes a cross is clearly worked into the design; at other times it is more subtle. Here the wood, particularly as seen in the trunks of the two large trees behind the Virgin Mary, may foreshadow the wood of the cross, where the life of this newborn child will ultimately end. Or rather, not end, for it is his destiny to conquer death and open the kingdom of heaven to all of us; this is why he has come into the world. From his birth he is oriented to this.
The verse inside the card is the text of an antiphon from the liturgy of Lauds (Morning Prayer) for Christmas Day. It takes the form of an imagined conversation in which someone puts a question to the shepherds and they reply: “Shepherds, tell us, whom have you seen? Who has appeared on earth? – We have seen the newborn child, we have heard the choirs of angels praising the Lord!” an answer which conveys both joy and faith, in which we all share.
This card is rich in meaning and could be considered one of the more contemplative of this year’s range. It is available in both English and Irish versions.
We will continue this series tomorrow with another featured card.
]]>All proceeds from the book go to our building fund (our new guest house will be open early in 2020).
Please also consider buying a book by an Irish author or from an Irish publisher this week, and support your local bookstore!
]]>This is not just a pious sentiment. Prayer is what monastic life is all about. The nuns pray together in church seven times a day (beginning at 4.10 a.m. while it is still dark), and also have daily times dedicated to personal prayer. We also try to pray while we work, in an atmosphere of quiet and mindfulness of God. Some work is particularly conducive to prayer, especially manual work of a repetitive nature. Aspects of our card production, e.g. printing, scoring, and packing, are ideal for this. So as our cards are produced, at the various stages the sisters pray for those who will buy and sell, send and receive this particular card.
We also remember all our card customers in a particular way at Mass and in the Hours of the Divine Office at Christmas time.
]]>With so rich a selection at our disposal, the problem was to choose which ones to include this year! Eventually three criteria guided our selection.
First, a range of themes: we chose one each of a design portraying the Virgin and Child, the Holy Family, the infant Jesus alone (we included two of these, one English and one Irish), angels, the shepherds, the Magi, the flight into Egypt, an illustrated capital (typical of Sr Paula’s designs – in the end we included two), and a general greeting.
Second, a range of artistic styles: the busy, full-frame designs of Sr Paula’s earliest period (e.g. the angel choir and shepherds cards), the simple lines of the Holy Family and flight into Egypt, her distinctive infant Jesus, the hatching and fun designs of the Magi and Noël cards, and the icon-style Virgin and Child, probably from her later period when she was moving towards dedicating herself completely to writing icons.
Third, printing practicalities: it proved challenging to reproduce some of the earliest of Sr Paula’s cards, as standard paper and envelope sizes have changed and either the designs would need to be tweaked or we would have to move into non-standard formats (meaning more expensive cards). We chose to avoid that for this year, but will investigate the possibilities going forward.
Our archives contain many beautiful designs by Sr Paula which are not included this year – but we intend to build up the collection and reintroduce these in the future.
Enjoy the range, and have fun selecting which you will send this year!
]]>To commemorate the tenth anniversary of the death of our Sr Paula Kiersey, we have chosen a selection of her Christmas cards for our 2019 catalogue.
Sr Paula (Monica Kiersey) was born in Kilmacthomas, Co. Waterford, in 1917. She studied art in Dublin and on the Continent. In 1949 she joined the Cistercian community in Glencairn, and designed Christmas cards for sale by the Abbey from the 1950s through to about 1980. At this time she turned her attention to writing icons; she was a founder member and for many years President of the Association of Iconographers of Ireland.
View all our Christmas cards here.
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