Waters saturate. Thus do the mighty rivers of Ireland so saturate its grasses and shamrocks that we call it the Emerald Isle. Just as Patrick saturated ever corner of the Celtic fields and bogs with the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Faith.
As from the side of the temple, as from the side of Christ, this river of faith washes every creature with life and abundance and every kind of fruitfulness. A water so much greater then the pools of Bethseda. A water which is Christ, in whom we die to darkness and are reborn to eternity.
Thus each son of Patrick has become the thirsting deer, drinking his fill from the life-giving streams which flow from the foot of the cross, streams which empty into an ocean, until they lap along these shores, where the Shannon flows into the Charles.
Thus the waters of this world and even the waters of our bodies become a holy water of Faith, quenching every thirst and hydrating every capillary and pore with the mercy of Christ’s grace.
Which is why, in these last days of Lent, Christ seeks to cleanse and nourish the hidden deserts of our souls, even in those places where we cling to the dryness, fearful that we might drown in his life-giving stream.
But come! Come to the waters which flow from the side of the Temple as from the side of the Lord, and let him fill all that is empty in you, restore all that is lost and saturate your soul with his love.
For as the waters which flow in my veins, so:
Christ [is] with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ [is] in me,
Christ [is] in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ to my right,
Christ to my right,
Christ to my left,
Christ, the living water,
Christ, the living water,
which makes me whole.
