NeuroDivine

9 June 2026 – St Columba’s Day

This reflection is scheduled to appear at 9.00 a.m., just as Fr Philip McKinley and I leave Monasterevin for Clonmacnoise.

Later in the morning, on the feast of St Columba, we will celebrate the Eucharist in Temple Connor at Clonmacnoise, with Philip presiding and me at the keyboard. It seems fitting way to mark the day before walking among the churches, crosses, and memories of one of Ireland’s great monastic settlements.

Nine years ago, on St Columba’s Day 2017, Andrew and I spent a day in Co. Galway.

Among the places we visited was St Mary’s Cathedral Tuam, a remarkable building that contains the story of three cathedrals within a single structure, reflecting the layered and sometimes complicated history of Christianity in Ireland. In the cathedral’s south transept stands the High Cross of Tuam, one of Ireland’s most significant early medieval monuments. Sheltered within the cathedral for its protection now, it continues to bear witness to centuries of faith, prayer, and pilgrimage.

Looking back now, I realise that visit belonged to a different chapter of life. It was the year before my kidneys failed. Dialysis, transplant assessments, hospital routines, and all the realities of chronic illness still lay beyond the horizon.

Today, on St Columba’s Day, I return to one of Ireland’s ancient holy places in very different circumstances.

Like Tuam, Clonmacnoise bears the marks of centuries of prayer. Founded by St Ciarán on the banks of the Shannon, it became one of Ireland’s great centres of learning and pilgrimage. St Columba himself is traditionally said to have visited there, recognising the future importance of the monastery and blessing its community.

There is something fitting about marking Columba’s feast between these two places. The high crosses remain standing. The stones continue to bear witness. Generations have come and gone, carrying their hopes, fears, illnesses, joys, and sorrows before God.

In 2017 I stood beside the High Cross in the south transept of Tuam Cathedral without any notion of what the next year would bring.

In 2026 I journey to Clonmacnoise carrying the experiences of dialysis, grief, endurance, friendship, and grace.

The landscape has not changed greatly. Perhaps the pilgrim has.

Yet the same God who guided Columba across sea and mountain still meets pilgrims on Irish roads, beside ancient crosses, and in the quiet places where memory and prayer meet.

St Columba, pilgrim of Christ, pray for us.

Photographs: St Mary’s Cathedral and the High Cross of Tuam, visited on St Columba’s Day, 9 June 2017.