Blog

The Burning Bush : for my 44th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood * 25 May 1979 (and also, unbeknownst to me at the time, it’s also Padre Pio’s Birthday)
“I’ve taken long walks
craving one thing only:
lightening,
transformation,
you.”
From the poem “Transformation” by Adam Zagajewski
“The voice of God,
that has been my wish,
that has been my desire...”
From the one woman show “Julian” by Fr James Janda
“Listen, I will tell you a mystery : We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed - in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye...”
1 Corinthians 15 : 51, 52
In the spring of 2012, I was commissioned to paint/write, an icon around these words of St. Paul for the Southwest Liturgical Conference held in Alburquerque in January 2013.
I can remember thinking about the mystery of being changed in a moment, and somehow surviving that change too. I thought of many possibilities but the one that kept coming back to me was from the book of Exodus, chapter 3, where Moses encounters the burning bush, which is on fire but the fire doesn’t consume the bush. The voice of God tells him to take off his sandals because he is on Holy Ground. Just as an aside,
New Mexico is often called “La Tierra Sagrada.” And having lived here for so long, I have experienced this truth.
In the really really wonderful animated film, “The Prince of Egypt” the voice of God and Moses, are spoken by the same actor, Val Kilmer. It’s a stroke of genius, because it signals subconsciously so many things, but especially that our own inner voice can be the voice of God; especially in the case of Moses.
Mary, the Mother of God, and the Child within her, are considered by the Orthodox Churches, to be the Burning Bush, because having the Creator of the Universe within her, she was not consumed either.
I had painted everything but the trunk of the tree, and I was feeling very tired inside and out. When I’d try to go to sleep, I could literally feel my heart just pounding, as if it was exhausted and trying very hard to keep me alive. But I ignored these signs, figuring I was 62 and I thought, well, I should be tired I’m getting old.
Then on 27 April 2012, I went for a walk in the mountains near Pagosa Springs, Colorado, not too far from Taos, where I lived,
with my friend Warren and his daughter Kailey. You couldn’t say I was hiking or exerting myself, and I suddenly felt like I was on a dimmer, and the lights were going out slowly. I had to sit down, and I told Warren, I was really struggling to breathe. He said, I hope it’s your breath and not your ticker.
Then I knew. I said, O yes, it is my ticker.
Long story short, I woke up 11 May after being put into an induced coma.
When I got out of the hospital and rehab, I awaited open heart surgery on 6 June.
By August I was, longing to get back to finishing this icon, and because of what had happened to me, I painted the trunk of the tree “evergreen,” (The “Viriditas” instead of “ariditas” so connected to Hildegard’s music and theology).
That near death experience changed everything. Everthing. I knew that I survived and my first 2 thoughts were,
O no. Now I’m going to mess things up and I should’ve died; then I could die without all the humiliation and chaos that followed.
My second thought was, why did God let me come back? And the inner answer was (like Hildegard at age 44) that I hadn’t gotten my “work or visions” out. I had assumed the Art I’d done was mine, and I felt chastised and instructed, in the way Hildegard describes, from that interior voice, she calls the “Living Light,” that
oh no no no,
it’s not yours.
You must share what you’ve been given.
You know how often, different holy ones have disagreed over this kind of sharing ! Some say no, don’t do it, you’ll be fooled by your ego and then “trampled under foot.” And then some say, it’s definitely not yours, you have to share it.
So, “caution to the winds”
I got the courage to chose Hildegard’s way, and truly felt impelled to share the work, and some of my experiences.
I couldn’t bring myself to share them all, because I believe in the
Mystery of God’s life in you ...
that we are a mystery, especially to ourselves
and don’t really know at all, even slightly,
what we have done or are doing, until after we’re gone, and safely on the other side where we can see our vocation “through God’s eyes.”
So I sought out one of my best friends, the brilliant theologian, Christopher Pramuk to help me, and only God knows why, but he agreed. The book
“All My Eyes See : The Artistic Vocation of William Hart McNichols”
will come out someday through Orbis Press, run by another dear friend, Robert Ellsberg.
Let me say briefly, that Orbis Press is the only Catholic Press I know of, which publishes the great diversity of voices in the Catholic Church. Without Robert Ellsberg none of these people, women theologians and women’s voices, black Christians, third world Christians, gay Christians... and on and on and on, you name it, none would have a voice. Robert is also the author of several books on the infinitely diverse voices of holy people and canonized saints. He holds an absolutely unique place in our church. And one day, will be counted amongst the holy people he’s introduced us to. I’m sure of that.
As St John Cardinal Henry Newman saw prophetically, “The voice of the whole Church will in time make itself heard.” This is shown beautifully on a scroll, in my teacher, Friar Robert Lentz’s Icon of St John Henry Newman.
During my extensive healing time, after my heart collapse, I’d listen to the audible version of “Black Elk Speaks.” Like Hildegard he finally gave into sharing his story, and said,
“If a man experienced a powerful dream, he must sing it in front of others or he would sicken and die.”
I’m celebrating 44 years as an ordained Roman Catholic Priest this 25 May. Only through the “Holy Protection of the Mother of God” (an icon I’ve painted too) I’ve been able to survive and at times even thrive !
And it “takes a village” and the hand of God to survive. Not just from the abuse outside, and inside the church , but also from your own considerable sins and failings.
When I almost died, my siblings Steve, Bob, Mary, Marjory, flew into Alburquerque immediately. I woke up from the coma to see them all there. They were all phenomenal, shaken up too, and showed unconditional love. And after it was all over, and until this day, I’ll never be the same. And I did not die, or as Paul says, “sleep, but I was changed forever in the twinkling of an eye”.
I hope this last quote from a favorite poem, makes some sense of all this mystery above, and of the 44 years I’ve been asked
only by the Lord; for
“No one takes this honor on himself; instead, a person is called by God” (Hebrews 5:4) ... to minister, and “carry hearts ...”
It’s a very scary thought, but try as you will, one cannot escape the truth of it.
“...here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
1952, by e.e. cummings
,Fr William Hart Dominic McNichols 💮 25 May 2023

The Yakhrom Icon of the Mother of God 🌺 Happy Mother’s Day !
(I can still hear my Moms voice teaching me this prayer at age 5 - it flows
so beautifully and I guess now, I’ve been saying this prayer for nearly 70 years)
The Memorare
“Remember O most gracious Virgin Mary,
That never was it known,
That anyone who fled to thy protection,
Implored thy help, or sought thy intercession
Was left unaided.
Inspired by this confidence
I fly unto thee, O Virgin of Virgins
My Mother.
To thee I come, before thee
I stand sinful and sorrowful.
O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
Despise not my petitions, but
In thy clemency, hear and
Answer me !
Amen”
Fr William Hart McNichols 💮 May 2023

St Pancratius of Rome (28 August 289 - 12 May 303 -Patron of youth who are bullied)
“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)
Every once in awhile I’ll be painting an icon of someone whose story has meant a lot to me and one of my friends will say something like, “Where do you come up with these people ?!!!”
My Dad’s older sister Dolores, had a novel written in 1854, “Fabiola : Or the Church of the Catacombs” by Nicholas Cardinal Wiseman. I loved to look at it and read about the ancient church of Rome. On the front cover is an illustration of Pancratius in the Roman amphitheater we all know as the Coliseum. He is facing Emperor Diocletian who looks down upon him with obvious bewildering disdain, while a panther circles the 14 year old boy getting ready to pounce. One legend has it that the panther had to be given permission by Pancratius to kill him, another says he was beheaded.
In the UK he is known as St Pancras, and St Pancras Station in London (1868) is also one of one of the “wonders of Victorian engineering ...it is a masterpiece of Victorian Gothic architecture.” His remains are held in the Chiesa di San Pancrazio, a Roman Basilica of the 5th or 6th Century.
Pancratius name in Greek means “the one who holds everything.” His mother died during childbirth and his father died when he was just 8. After that his Uncle Dionysius took him to Rome and they both converted to Christianity. In the novel are some of the early young martyrs, Agnes, Tarcisius, Emerentiana, Sebastian, and the young man Cassianus
“...another thread of the story deals with the young boy Pancratius, a pious Christian...Pancratius nemesis is Corvinus, a bullying schoolmate who is irritated by the young Christian’s saintliness. He does everything he can to bring him and the Christian Community of the Catacombs down. This includes the orchestrating of the lynching of their former teacher Cassianus, who is secretly Christian. Yet Pancratius shows his enemy the meaning of Christian forgiveness when he saves his life shortly after Corvinus had Cassianus killed.” (From a Wikipedia plot summary) and ...
you can see I don’t remember much of the novel, but I still feel the deep impact it had on me as a young kid who experienced bullying in grade school and especially, the first two years of high school. Those two years I purposely got myself into “after school detention” so I wouldn’t have to take the bus home until much later than the other boys. It scarred me in permanent ways, (also positively, opened wide the door of empathy) but..... I do know that today, it’s far, far worse. I can’t even imagine the cyber bullying lgbtq children bear today.
I’ve often mentioned in these posts, the great 87 year old Irish historian of Late Antiquity, Peter Brown. His books are both scholarly and readable. I love his writing voice, especially in his 1981 book (with a very poor and today, misleading title )“The Cult of the Saints.” There is a chapter in that book called “the invisible friend” referring to the rise in popularity of the early martyrs of Catacomb times. Professor Brown helps you see how these martyrs became household names and literal-heavenly-friends.
Nicholas Wiseman creates a story where they all knew each other.
In the fifth grade we were given the potentially heroic Sacrament of Confirmation. I was 10 and very much wanted to take the “older teenage saint”, Pancratius for my Confirmation name. When you’re 10 you really look up to 14 year olds. Now I see them as children. I think I’ve already mentioned in other posts that my teacher shook her head (like, again, where do you come up with these people ???) and then said, “No. You either take Anthony or Dominic.” I convinced my oldest friend (our Mothers put us in the playpen together) Kathy Seep Hendricks to take Philomena and at the last minute, “they”pulled her off the liturgical calendar so she took Agnes instead. So in honor of our friendship over the years, and our collaboration on the book “Heavenly Friends : An Introduction to the Beauty of Icons” published by Twenty-Third Press, in 2019, I knew whenever I got to paint/write the icon of Pancratius, he had to go to Kathy.
Kathy’s most recent book is a beautiful paean/threnody for all of us, who continue to grieve...published by Twenty-Third Publications,
“Grace In The Wound : Finding Hope In Long-Term Grief.”
“My child, if you aspire to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for an ordeal. Be sincere of heart, be steadfast, and do not be alarmed when disaster comes. Cling to him, and do not leave him, so that you may be honored at the end of your days.
Whatever happens to you, accept it, and in the uncertainties of your humble state, be patient, since gold is tested in the fire, and the furnace of humiliation. Trust him and he will uphold you ...”
Ecclesiasticus 2: 1-5
Fr William Hart Dominic McNichols 💮 for 12 May 2023

San Jose’ Obrero : (St Joseph the Worker) 🌺 1 May 2023
“those who listen for the monkeys:/ what of this child /in the autumn wind ?”
Basho (1644 - 1694)
And happy Feastday of the Catholic Worker 🕊
For some unknown (to me) reason, I keep returning to Joseph, especially my favorite books on him by Fr Andre Doze, and Mother Maria Cecilia Baij, OSB. I think it’s because when I moved from Taos to Alburquerque 10 years ago, I was assigned by Archbishop John Wester, to help out at St Joseph on the Rio Grande Church. Each time I’m invited to celebrate Mass there, as I drive into the parking lot, I never forget, and in my heart I say, “this is Joseph’s Church !” The inside is filled with wooden beams and a beautiful skylight
through which the Holy Spirit descends.
I just discovered this Novena Prayer to St Joseph the Worker, attributed to the Carmelite Order:
“St Joseph, by the work of your
hands and the sweat of your
brow, you supported Jesus and
Mary, and had the Son of God
as your fellow worker. Teach me
to work as you did, with perseverance,
for God and those whom God
has given me to support.
Teach me to see in my fellow
workers the Christ who desires
to be in them, that I may always
be charitable and forbearing
towards all. Grant me to
look upon work with the eyes
of faith, so that I shall recognize
in it my share in God’s own creativity
and in Christ’s work of our redemption,
and so take pride in it.
When it is pleasant and productive,
remind me to give thanks to God
for it. And when it is burdensome,
teach me to offer it to God, in
reparation for my sins and the
sins of the world.
O good father Joseph! I beg you,
by all your sufferings, sorrows and joys,
to obtain for me what I ask .
(Name your petition)
Obtain for all those who have
asked my prayers, everything that
is useful to them in the plan of God.
Be near to me in my last moments
that I may eternally sing the praises of
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Amen “
“You too shall pass away. Knowing this,
how can you quarrel?”
Buddha
Fr William Hart McNichols 🌺 May 2023

Holy Prophet Daniel Berrigan, SJ ( 9 May 19 1921 - 30 April 2016)
“Daniel my brother you are older than me
Do you still feel the pain of the scars that won’t heal
Your eyes have died but you see more than I
Daniel you’re a star in the face of the sky ...”
Bernie Taupin , Elton John
“Daniel is the child
who never learned
to speak in lies, and
who suffered
endless false fathers,
brutal and misleading.
His own gentle inner skin
was scorched by prisons
and the blasphemies
of a violent culture
drunk on the blood
of the Lamb.
He brings the sun
of the Beatitudes
to those beyond the pale
and molesting reach
of churches and society.
He cannot see
what we around him
are honored to behold :
the shower of light,
the hovering dove.
He cannot hear
tender Father say
what we drink in
full mercy:
‘This is again,
my beloved
hear him.”
1986 ... from my self- published book of poems
“Fire Above / Water Below”
The first time I heard of Daniel Berrigan, was in high school and I think (?) it was an article “The New Breed” by the late (2013) Fr Andrew Greeley, which our Jesuit Scholastic teacher mimeographed for us to read.
In the Jesuit Novitiate in Florissant, Missouri, our Novice Master, Fr Vincent O’Flaherty, introduced us to as many different kinds of Jesuits as he knew existed ... as the famous Jesuit cliche’ goes, “If you’ve met one Jesuit, you’ve met one Jesuit.”
At that time the diversity was so wide you could use your imagination to attempt, at best, to come up with something new. There were Jesuits in every field, every corner of the world, and it was exhilarating. And this has always been the case, and is now. And I have to say, one of the only good things about my leaving the Jesuits is that now I get to openly brag about them, and I do. So, from Daniel Lord to Hans Urs von Balthasar, Karl Rahner, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Egide van Broeckhoven, Jon Sobrino, Harvey Egan, Anthony de Mello, James Martin ... to medical Doctors like Dr Myles Sheehan, artists, teachers, historians, Biblical scholars, scientists, theatre actors, directors, pastors, saints, martyrs, prophets, and tons and tons of writers. But even in the midst of writers, Dan stood out as unique. He was given the poetic voice and gift of a Biblical Prophet.
His poetry and books have that spiritual authority you know can only come from the Holy Spirit.
I was very blessed to meet him one day in Manhattan, on the uptown #1 train. The doors opened, I stepped in to see him sitting right in front of me. I staggered onto a pole and swayed back and forth as we began a conversation that would lead to a deep friendship, and he began to work in the AIDS Hospice with me, and we shared that blessed experience too.
I can only compare his writer’s voice to that of a singer; one that with the first notes you know exactly who it is. He used that voice for decades to champion the poorest of the poor, to castigate oppressors like a fierce angelic blow torch from the Apocalypse... as the saying goes, “to comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.”
As a mentor and friend, it’s difficult for me to overestimate the effects he still has on my life. One reviewer called him “the Jeremiah of the Jesuits.” But not only was he a Prophet, but we’d laugh until we couldn’t get a word out. He was witty, charming, and so shrewd, he could see right through people, infamous, famous and all of us somewhere in between; all of us “in a pilgrim church, wandering as pilgrims on this earth.” Through Dan I was fortunate enough to encounter many women and men with similar prophetic gifts. Like all great writers he attracted a huge following with that voice ... that voice that dazzled and shook the world.
Following the publication of his autobiography, “To Dwell In Peace,” he was very critically reviewed twice in the New York Times; on Friday and Sunday. When he didn’t appear at dinner for those few days, I finally knocked on his apartment door and gently asked him how he was doing . He looked up with a wry smile and said, “Well, I must be doing something right.” Not too long after that he’d say of all his critics, “I like my critics up close. I like to see what they are doing with their lives.”
Of all my memories and times with Dan I think the one that stands out the most is when he asked me to go with him to a retreat for Vietnam Veterans. They were all around my age, and had asked him to give them a retreat. The Vets at the retreat never saw Dan as against them, they saw him as someone who wanted to save their lives too.
When I began to live into my vocation as an iconographer, Dan commissioned three icons from me; Benjamin Salmon, William Stringfellow and Blessed Franz Jagerstatter..
Because he often grieved over and wrote about, what he called “a constant war against children” - meaning all the ways we kill our young, (what would he say today about all the daily horrific shootings ?) I decided to pose him as a St Simeon figure; with the prophetic flame over his head, encountering the Christ Child (Luke 2 : 21-40).
I’ll close with a poem of his that I love, called “Insight.”
INSIGHT
When I look, I see
I’ve spent my life seeing -
under that flat stone, what ?
Why that star off kilter ?
Turn, Turn ! I intoned, and
out of the stone there stood
What-Not in a white garment.
Jacob’s ladder descended
(the angels holding steady) -
I mounted and I
saw
what
Daniel Berrigan, SJ
William Hart McNichols 💮 for 30 April 2023

"St Joseph, Mirror of Patience" (for Divine Mercy Sunday)
“... I recall a few lines from a fascinating apocryphal book of the sixth or seventh century entitled 'The History of Joseph the Carpenter.' In that story, Jesus says to Joseph at the saint’s death: ‘Whoever shall write the history of your life, your labor, and your departure from this world...I will commit to your care as long as he remains in this life. And when his soul departs from the body, and when he must leave this world, I will burn the book of his sins; I will not torment him with any punishment in the day of judgement; but he shall cross the sea of flames, and shall go through it without trouble or pain.'"
From “The Life of St Joseph: As Seen by the Mystics” compiled by Paul Thigpen
I am well aware that these stories by mystics are not to be taken as Gospel. But I find them one way of contemplating Jesus and those around him. So if you want to consider them pious novels, I can understand that.
Now it seems like a long, long time ago, we were given the Year of St. Joseph, proclaimed by Pope Francis (8 Dec. 2020 - 8 Dec. 2021). That’s probably because the pandemic was raging across the world at that time, and we were all hibernating, as the angel of death was passing ominously over all of us.
In Advent of 2021, I decided to read a mystical life of St Joseph by Venerable Maria Cecilia Baij, OSB, (1743 - 1766). It was a beautiful book that the author claimed was given to her by Our Lord to spread devotion to St Joseph.
Beautiful, but often painful to read, because Joseph was continually being slandered, attacked, unable to provide for his family because of lack of resources and when he did work, was sometimes never paid. In short, he suffered a lot. One of the most poignant things I remember was after the Baby was born, if he was terribly cold or depressed, Mary would hand him the Baby to hold and immediately his body and spirit would warm up.
I began to imagine him as a young man, before he was engaged, or even knew Mary, and his gradual understanding that God had set him apart for an absolutely unique vocation. So I looked into The Litany of St Joseph and painted “St Joseph Flower of Jesse.” Then later I was taken by another of his titles, and I painted “St Joseph Terror of Demons.” I imagine now as a saint in heaven, he’s like his son, and can banish the demons with a word.
Recently, just past the beginning of Lent, I was looking for a title from the Litany that would show his suffering; not just from people, but as any father unable to provide at times, the bare necessities. So I chose to find him in “St Joseph Mirror of Patience.” First of all, because I needed it too, and thought he might give it to me if I painted him.
But all during Lent, and while painting, I felt the opposite. I felt his pain, his suffering, intense anxiety, but I doubt very much, I ever responded with his heroic patience.
It was although, ironically, a very blessed time, as things about men, and especially fathers kept coming my way. Like the truly educational (for me, at least) documentary made in 2015, released in 2016, by a young feminist woman, Cassie Jaye, about men; “The Red Pill.” I’m especially aware, and you should be too, that 2016 was the sad end of an era and the beginning of another. So keep that in mind if you decide to watch this documentary.
Literally, every time I’d show the drawing, or painting in process, to a man, they’d all say, “O that’s exactly how I feel.” Actually, women and mothers would too.
I think we have all gotten used to depictions of a serene Joseph, never agitated, never doubting, always spiritually composed. But this is not the way the different mystics have seen his real life. And this gives me comfort.
As I painted, I’d listen to the audible book “St Padre Pio: Man of Hope,” by Renzo Allegri. It’s ten hours of listening, and so far I’ve listened to it four or five times, (I’ve stopped counting) because Padre Pio was harassed daily, by his own brother Franciscans, the Church, people who really hated him and thought he was a fraud, and by evil spirits. So, never think the saints glide easily through life, happily protected.
I’m offering this painting also as a meditation for Divine Mercy Sunday, which is always the first Sunday after Easter. This year it’s 16 April, (the feasts of Bernadette and Benedict Joseph Labre) and I see it as a way into understanding or contemplating the supra-abundant Mercy of God. And maybe, the not easily understandable complexity of that Mercy. Asking: What does this mean, considering all the suffering?
I love that the Buddhist teacher I’ve listened to for many years, Pema Chodron, always speaks of “practicing” a virtue such as patience. And then learning mercy or patience along with our failings. It’s not as if we’re unredeemable because we can’t get it right, we continue to practice. This leaves the doors open to hope, along with the humor of laughing at ourselves when we fail. This--instead of being ferocious or angry--first at ourselves and then of course, it goes right away to others.
Dear Joseph, Mirror of Patience,
You never gave up on yourself because
You always put yourself, finally, after much struggling,
into the hands of God.
This doesn’t mean you were without the terror of anxiety,
or the humiliation of failure.
But you loved your wife and baby boy.
Did you know we now refer to you all as simply,
The Holy Family ?
When that boy grew up he taught us something new:
that we’re all Family.
Simply because we’re all God’s children.
Teach us dear Joseph, a way to put that “practice” into a lasting practice.
O Joseph, patron too, of the dying,
never let us give up - even up to the moment of our death.
Be there with us then, and usher us Home.
Amen
Fr William Hart McNichols ❤️ Divine Mercy Sunday 2023

Prospect Park Flowering Azalea (watercolor and gouache 1982)
“Let the wilderness and dry lands exult, let the wasteland rejoice and bloom, let it bring forth flowers like the jonquil, let it rejoice and sing for joy...
Strengthen all weary hands, steady all trembling knees, and say to faint hearts, Courage ! Do not be afraid...
For water gushes in the desert, streams in the wasteland, the scorched earth becomes a lake, the parched land springs of water.”
Isaiah 35
I’ve actually spent this entire Lent doing another painting from the Litany of St Joseph, but I will show you that painting, and explain why, after Easter.
It was incredibly exciting as a child to see all the purple satin cloths come off the statues and the Cross on Holy Saturday night and the next day, to see the sanctuary literally flooded with lilies. Just as Christmas is associated with the evergreen and red poinsettias, Easter is lilies and all kinds of flowers; eggs and rabbits.
I read somewhere (maybe it was National Geographic?) that some scholars had pinpointed the date for the actual Crucifixion as 7 April and Easter as 9 April. This is the first year I can ever remember falling exactly into those dates. This year there is so much suffering and death to be transformed into Resurrection.
My first real understanding of Resurrection happened while I was working as a chaplain in Manhattan for people dying of AIDS.
What I mean is, how the Spirit of Love can resurrect a person. I’d be visiting patients who were very close to death, bedridden and ready to move through that thin veil to “the other side.” They’d be telling me of “visits” from dead relatives, coaxing them to come forth, and easing their fears. Then, someone they really loved would fly in from another state to visit; like a dear friend or former partner. The next day I’d go in to their room and they’d be sitting up. The next day, they be sitting in a chair, and the next day they’d be outside taking a walk with the visitor. I was astounded and deeply moved by the sheer power of Love.
Eventually they would die, because at that time, there were still no medicines that could stop Mr Death. But just to witness the sudden transformation Love could bring about, so quickly, I will never forget.
I’ve tried (and failed) to do my best to copy this “kind of miracle” throughout my ministerial priesthood; the miracle of love giving life. And in my life and especially in my vocations as a priest/painter I’ve been the recipient of such miracles. It takes a village to raise and sustain a minister or priest and anyone who thinks otherwise has obviously just begun, and will not continue without the help of many loving friends and the sudden, unexpected arrival of a very human angel, just when you think you can’t go on any longer.
One of the many things I love about the midwestern, southern and eastern states is the lush greenery and abundance of flowers. It’s a very different kind of beauty in the west and southwest, and so this azalea in Prospect Park in Brooklyn was like a momentary apparition. At that time I was trying to mimic as many artistic styles as possible, especially the American Pre-Raphaelites and the pointillism of Georges Seurat. It would be a few more years before I was “startlingly, suddenly, kidnapped” by icons.
Let’s renew our iconic-Christian vocation to bring the light back to those who have been abused by churches of all persuasions, alarming contemporary cults, and those taken away by idolatry of being a democrat or republican. These are basically clubs, “dust in the wind,” and nothing one should or really can, give your soul to; only God is worthy of this kind of allegiance or worship. Sadly some are too far gone into the madness of narcissism or cult obeisance.
These are our times, the world we’ve inherited. And going backwards, is a blatant, hopeless denial of the evergreen (Viriditas), ever-transforming power of the Holy Spirit.
I’m offering you a flowering azalea this Easter to show that there will always be sudden, hope-filled miraculous apparitions in our life and our life to come, into Eternity.
A most blessed feast of the Resurrection and throughout this coming Easter season !
Fr William Hart McNichols 🌺 Easter 2023

“Behold, I Make All Things New ...” (Revelation 21 : 15)
In early May of 1979, near the end of my theological studies in Cambridge, Massachusetts I needed to make a retreat to prepare for ordination (25 May) and I needed to study for the dreaded 3 hour oral examination.
I had my “Pentax K-1000” camera with me and wandered outside the huge open area of the retreat house in Weston, Massachusetts. I was particularly focused on the way that most of nature turns from red to green. I was 29 and this was the first time I really noticed this, and pondered the wounds in a tree giving birth. I photographed blossoms coming out of the arms of the wounds in trees which spoke to me of the Flowering or the Jeweled Crosses I had seen for years in Art History (and later in New Mexico). All of this ancient symbolism I felt was my vocation to first notice, and then give it back, by recreating these living signs of love incarnate.
Also, for many years I would spend Easter in Baden, Pennsylvania with the community of the Sisters of St Joseph . Nearby in Ambridge , on Easter morning, people decorated their lawns with wooden Crosses covered with real or artificial flowers. This really had an effect on me, and filled me with a quiet joy and a reminder that Jesus’ wounds never disappeared but “flowered” in post-Resurrection stories of love and forgiveness.
I’m not so much fascinated but more comforted, by the true accounts of how St Francis, St Catherine of Siena, St Padre Pio, St Gemma Galgani (11 April) or Adrienne von Speyr, used their wounds to heal (in various ways) during and after their lives on earth. I took Revelation seriously and “wrote this down” using this image to portray the joy and shock of the Resurrection.
In every place I’ve lived, one of the first trees to flower is the bright yellow forsythia.
It’s even seen like crocuses too, flowering under snow. This drawing was done around 1982 when I was bursting with new life and curiosity as an illustrator; resurrecting old symbols and looking to create new ones which point to the same beautiful mystery of Christianity. And truly, to create visual images of the life of Christ in the Gospels, then the way the saints each carry a part of his life in their lives to us, century after century.
As we come closer to the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus I’m hoping this illustration brings you closer to that mystery, of the Spirit raising Jesus from the dead. And that you take some quiet time to remember how many times the Spirit has brought you new life when you thought... it just can’t be possible this time. Maybe you’ll be inspired to wrap a wooden Cross with flowers ? !
“And the One sitting on the throne said, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ And He says,
‘Write this down, for these words are faithful and true.’”
Revelation 21:5
Fr William Hart McNichols 🌷🕊 March 2023

Prospect Park Stairway (color pencil 1982)
“Dear Lady, can you hear the wind blow ? And did you know, your stairway lies on the whispering wind ?”
Stairway To Heaven by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant
“The Poetics of Space” by Gaston Bachelard, 1958, is a most amazing book about which Etienne Gilson said was “...one of the major modern contributions to the philosophy of art.” Richard Kearney called this book “...the most concise and consummate expression of Bachelard’s philosophy of imagination.” It’s a book about architecture but so much more. I read it years ago, but what I remember is that it gave voice to the feelings you have about spaces like stairways, hallways, basements, and tiny objects like sea shells, nests, colored glass, or especially a photograph. How just entering a room may ignite feelings of gratitude, melancholy, transcendence, or that mysterious, inexplicable-deja vu. I have mentioned before that the photograph of the sea on the cover of Adrienne von Speyr’s book, “The Boundless God” does this to me. It’s a source of contemplation, she says, “In addition to creating the earth, God created the sea, which he separated from the dry land and which remains a particularly eloquent symbol for the strength, mystery, and perpetual unfathomable-ness of God.”
I loved living in Taos so much because in the midst of the mountains I felt properly small, and looking at them, I also felt I was part of the natural world. So nothing could define me that was too small of a category or box, because Taos Mountain kept pointing to infinity.
John’s Gospel has that same effect in that right from the beginning you are led out of this world to a kind of aerial view or transcendent view. St Ignatius has this view in his “Spiritual Exercises” where he “takes you to heaven” to overhear a conversation of the Blessed Trinity about lovingly sending the Word, (or Sophia) down to earth to save humankind. You are asked by Ignatius to imagine all this and subsequent visions of the Call of Christ the King and intimately participate in scenes from the 4 Gospels. So much does Ignatius exalt the imaginary powers given to us, that in his essay “Loyola” the late semiologist Roland Barthes, claimed Ignatius creates a whole school of writers. Barthes once said, “I am interested in language because It wounds or seduces me.” Also one quote I find very funny, “I have tried to be as eclectic as I possibly can with my professional life, and so far it’s been pretty fun.”
“All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.” (John 1:3) Everytime I say these words at Mass, in the second Eucharistic prayer, “...Jesus Christ, your Word through whom you made all things...” I remember John, and listening to the prologue in Latin as an altar boy, at Mass. This is a very good memory of the Latin Mass, but as I’ve said before, the Mass can be respectfully prayerful in any language. It’s up to the celebrant to pray so that we’re caught up in or gathered into prayer too.
As I walked through Prospect Park in my early thirties, I’d get taken away by a pond doused with algae, a brick tunnel, a flowering azalea or a stone stairway. Bachelard did not teach me to see this way, he gave me a way to write about it. I know you all have these experiences of sudden recognition. John gives us a way to see Jesus that has lasted inside souls for thousands of years. It’s his way. It’s his heart on fire. It’s filled with love. The word (Jesus )of God is not distant, “Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will Cross the sea for us and bring it to us, so that we may hear and obey it ?’ But the word is very near you, in your mouth and in your heart, so that you may obey it...” Deuteronomy 30:11-14.
How do you obey your heart ? John calls Jesus the Word who made the Universe and Proverbs calls Sophia the one who played with God as he made the Universe. I get childlike when I imagine an animated or anime film about God, Sophia and the Spirit calling to each other, “Let’s make Neptune blue! Let’s make Uranus turquoise! Let’s make rings around Saturn and Mars bright red!”
When Led Zeppelin was honored at the Kennedy Center, “Heart” was chosen to sing Stairway to Heaven. You can still see it on you tube. It’s one of the most beloved of songs. We know and yet we don’t know, what it’s really about.
Instead of the two Wilson sisters, Ann and Nancy, alone, they gathered a huge choir of young people in bowler hats and when they began to sing it was chilling, it was magical; even Led Zeppelin were visibly taken aback and deeply moved.
“...And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long, and the forests will echo with laughter...Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, and there’s still time to change the road you’re on... And it makes me wonder...”
“Then a suggestion came from my reason, as though a friendly voice had spoken, ‘Look up to His Father in Heaven...I answered and said to Jesus, ‘No, I cannot look up for you are my Heaven...”
(Dear) Lady Julian of Norwich
“...and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.”
Fr William Hart McNichols 🕊 Lent 2023

Prospect Park Tunnel Bricks (watercolor and gouache 1982... and, the Light at the end of the veritable tunnel )
“Have you never read this Scripture: ‘The stone that the builders rejected is become the head stone of the corner...’ “
Mark 12 : 10, 11
“He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the Churches. To him who overcomes I will give some of the hidden manna to eat. And I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a New Name which no one knows except him who receives it.”
Apocalypse 2 : 17
The tunnel bricks in Prospect Park had a real hidden beauty; terra cotta red and moss grey-green, touched by a little white. To be honest, at that time I was thinking of one of my favorite Jesuit saints, the English poet, St Robert Southwell, and of course, “Jesus the Cornerstone.”
Robert obviously influenced one of the greatest poets that ever lived, the Jesuit and impossibly eccentric Gerard Manley Hopkins. Daniel Berrigan, SJ, another great Jesuit poet, wrote a whole book of poetry honoring Hopkins.
Robert Southwell was kept and tortured in the Tower of London by the maniacal sadist, Queen Elizabeth’s Catholic hunter, Richard Topcliffe. One escaped Catholic, Richard Verstegan reported on Topcliffe, “...whose inhuman cruelty’s so great, as he will not spare to extend any torture whatsoever.” Topcliffe’s victims included the Jesuits Robert Southwell and Henry Walpole...In 1592 he assaulted Anne Bellamy and persuaded her to arrange the capture of Robert Southwell at her family’s house outside London.
I know at this time we are all thinking of these same atrocities inflicted on the women and men of Ukraine. So this is not some past horror, but devils like Topcliffe are alive roaming Ukraine. To be honest, at that Elizabethan time, both Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary murdered an almost equal number of Protestants and Catholics, around 300 for each queen.
St John’s Book of Revelation is filled with martyrs but especially poignant is the opening of the fifth seal ...
“When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls who had been slain for the word of God and for the testimony which they held. And they cried with a loud voice, saying, ‘How long, O Lord, holy and true, until you judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’ Then a white robe was given to each of them; and it was said to them that they should rest a little while longer, until both the number of their fellow servants and their brethren, who would be killed as they were, was completed.”
Revelation 6: 9-11
“... Avenge our blood on those who dwell on earth...” Here in New Mexico Native girls and boys go missing often and their families cry out from under the altar too, how long ? I see there’s a new tv show “Alaska Daily” starring Hilary Swank about the missing Native girls in Alaska.
Near the beginning of my apprenticeship as an iconographer I was drawn to represent anyone who had been killed and no one was caring, or concerned about them. I remember a young man coming up to Taos to find his brother’s killer, and he and his girlfriend visited with me. His brother’s car was found near Taos Gorge Bridge, and he was in such pain, no one was looking, they had all given up. I gave him a print of
“Jesus Christ Seraphic Guardian of the Spilt Blood.” I told him that no one is unnoticed by God, since the very first murder of Abel in Genesis. God says “What have you done? Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground.”
Genesis 4 : 10
Recently watching Steven Colbert’s fascinating interview with Steven Spielberg, I am reminded that the Gospel of John has been used for centuries to persecute Jewish people. A sad and ugly truth. Antisemitism as we all know, is on the rise, and Flannery O’Connor’s predictions in her short stories and novels, about “the church of Christ with out Christ “ has come true.
My friend Fr James Alison began his writing career on the mimetic theories of violence in Rene’ Girard, with his brilliant 1996 book “Raising Abel.”
“Raising Abel is a theological exploration of a huge change of mind: the change which the apostolic group underwent as a result of the Resurrection - and how that paradigm can transform our world today.” (From a book description on Amazon)
During these days as we walk with Jesus towards the Passion and the Cross, we cannot help but cry out with the souls in Revelation. Where is the Light ? And how many will die before the number is complete ?
I see in the early Christian Community the same shocking resilience I see in Ukraine today. There is a dispute about the end of John’s Gospel, chapter 21. Did someone add it to the Gospel?
“However, this is just not so. The style of John chapter 21 is that of the entirety of the Gospel of John and doubtless was added very shortly thereafter but before being published by John himself.
John 21 is the 21st and final chapter ...it contains an account of a post-crucifixion appearance in Galilee...during this chapter, there is the miraculous catch of 153 fish, the confirmation of Peter’s love of Jesus, Jesus’ giving to Peter the threefold commission to feed his lambs and little sheep, a foretelling of Peter’s death in old age, and a comment about the beloved disciple’s future.”
Edward D. Andrews
So, here is the Light at the end of the tunnel for me and, hopefully, for you. “Feed my little lambs.” How deeply tender and motherly is Jesus !
Each of us is given unique ways to nourish and feed others. And what greater joy is there than being used by God or “employed” by God to give our gifts to others ? I can’t think of any. We can all find renewed hope and joy in His way of feeding. And we are all blessedly called, to this vocation. This is because Jesus knew this is the source of our pilot lights being fanned into flame and the source of our own healing too.
“When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, Son of John, do you love me more than these ?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ He said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ “
John 21 : 15-17
Fr William Hart McNichols 🦅 Lent 2023