Today is the feast of the great Matt Talbot (1851-1925). What's not to love about this great venerati? He didn't have such a great start in life, being the second of 12 children of an alcoholic day laborer. But his mother was a good woman: hard-working, full-time housewife and mother, part-time charwoman. They hadn't money for schooling for the kids and there was no mandatory education in Ireland at the time. Matt (also called Barney) got about a year a schooling altogether and a pretty solid catechism from the Christian Brothers, but that's all. When he went to work at a wine bottling plant (at age 12!) he got drunk regularly and became what we would call an alcoholic. (A beating from his father -- for being drunk! -- didn't make any difference.) Pretty soon he was coming home drunk every night and scrounging up cash to stay that way. At the time there was an evil practice of paying workers at the pubs; the proprietor expected a substantial purchase in exchange for handing over the wages and checks. It kept the people down.
One day, penniless, three of the Talbot brothers including Matt were standing outside the pub, hoping that the pals they had so generously stood to a drink (or a loan) would do the same for them -- and they were ignored. stung, Matt went right to a church and took the pledge, which means he swore off alcohol altogether for a period of time; this time, for three months. Tortured by DT's and racked with thirst, he wandered around until he collapsed on the steps of the Jesuit church, where worshipers had to step over him. He had sunk as low as he was ever going to sink. God heard his prayer -- and his mother's -- and he never took another drop of alcohol again in his life. He was sober for 41 years! How did he accomplish it? Well, he would attribute it all to God, and as he is a saint, well, glory to God! But let's look at saintly Matt's life. First, he became a daily communicant, after having been away from the sacraments for years (though he always attended Sunday Mass). He began a rigorous discipline of penance and fasting: he wore chains around his waist, arm and leg; he never ate a full meal; he ate only bread, tea and cocoa and sometimes fish during Lent; he fated for a week before every feast day. He gave generously to the poor; whatever was left over from his salary after food and rent went to charity -- every salary increase meant more money for charities. He never swore; he tipped his hat whenever anyone used the Lord's name in vain. But he was no prig -- he talked sports and other worldly topics with the other men, he laughed and made jokes. By his own admission he was shy. He didn't go in for parties and refused the offer of an old folks' home by the Little Sisters of the Poor. "I'd rather be by myself," he said. He was strong, a good worker (he was a bricklayer and a lumberman), a union man (my grandfather would love him), and "unafraid of any man." - Modern Saints. He told it like it was, old Matt, even to his bosses. He gave it to you straight. He paid back all his debts, including every old bar tab, and tried to find the man he and his buddies had stolen a fiddle from. Unable to find him to make restitution, he offered many Masses for him. Generous to a fault was old Matt; a priest once hesitated to accept a donation from him, knowing it was all he had.
He loved books, delighted in St. Catherine of Siena, understood concepts an uneducated man would never be expected to, and enjoyed remarkable clarity of morals and thought. I love him.
He collapsed on the street in front of church just before the 10 am Mass. A Dominican priest ( who didn't know him) gave him the last rites. He was buried in a Franciscan Third Order habit (since he'd belonged to one) and his whole funeral cost a grand total of 10 pounds! Matt Talbot, pray for us.
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