Michael is the Retreat Center Director at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center in Sierra Madre, California. Michael and his team hold over 90 retreats each year for prayerful meditation and spiritual development in the Catholic tradition, and a thriving outreach Food Ministry which he founded in March 2020.

Michael holds a Doctor of Ministry degree from Catholic University of America with a concentration in Spirituality. A graduate of the Master of Arts in Ministry program from St. John’s Seminary in Brighton, MA and has also studied at Boston College, Fordham and Catholic Theological Union.

Prior to becoming Retreat Center Director at Mater Dolorosa he was Director of Teen and Adult Formation at St. Eulalia’s Parish in Winchester, MA and Formation Director at the St. Anthony Shrine in Boston, MA for the Secular Franciscans.

Michael is a proponent of the Everyday Presence of God in Our Lives as an evangelization strategy. He is a commissioned presenter (instructor) for Contemplative Outreach and ministers as a Spiritual Director at Mater Dolorosa.

Michael was born in Wales, of Irish parents and was raised in England. He is married to Sally, his wife of 42 years, has four children and ten grandchildren. His hobbies include family, motorcycles, photography and poetry.

Prior to moving into full-time ministry work, he worked in management and IT consulting software products, changing the tools and behavior of teams undergoing transitions in business and organizational development.

He can be reached at mikeodial@gmail.com

Reflections, images and poetry Copyright 2023 Michael J. Cunningham OFS

One of the things I like to do as a pastime it's photography. And one of my favorite things to photograph is water. I have spent many years taking photographs of the ocean and reflections, but more recently, I've taken to photograph rivers. Our eyes can't see the river's motion in the same way that a camera does. We see a different view of the water when we slow the camera down by controlling the shutter speed. The fluidity of the water takes shapes of its own. One that we can't discern by the naked eye. The colors and the shapes take on their own forms based on how they pass over the rocks—creating streams within a stream. The resulting image, as the one shown here, becomes almost abstract. Meaning is implied differently than just a straight recording, or snapshot, of the water as we see it.  

For me these natural images also illustrate how things are in our minds and soul. The eternal nature of the river, or so it seems, makes us think differently. The water that passes in front of us, perhaps passed there for generations before, making its way to homes, fields, and gardens, and then eventually the ocean. So a cycle of replenishment and nourishment and movement is shown.  

Another observation from this image presented to me is one of a river full of thoughts. In contemplative prayer circles, we spend much time trying to simplify our thought process. We try to quieten our mind down, focusing on just resting, taking on the mind of Christ, cradling ourselves in his arms, and attempting to move ourselves from everyday distractions.  

John Cassian, 3rd-century desert father, tried the same thing. He left the city to avoid distractions and temptations for the desert, only to find himself bombarded by a river full of thoughts once secular temptations were removed from his presence. It is often the case when we try to quieten down, perhaps in silent prayer, attending a retreat, or visiting our favorite sacred space that we encounter this initial river full of thoughts.  

In the centering prayer tradition, when we feel this way, the method tells us not to try to reject these thoughts, engage with them, or remove them, but instead just let them pass by, like the water in the picture. Letting them go by slowly, beautifully, and consciously by just saying a simple word indicates our commitment to return to Christ.  

You know everyday life when we feel overwhelmed and overcome by the river of thoughts and the ensuing decisions we face, it may make sense to go the way of the image in the picture. To slow down, discern, and have God involved in the decision-making process, just as God is the instigator and contemplative prayer, and all our lives may be a little calmer, more peace-filled, and rewarding.

God Bless, Mike  

Reflection, image and poetry Copyright 2023 Michael J. Cunningham OFS

As we enter the New Year, I want to present an idea for us to consider, it relates to our prayer life. Have you ever considered your motive for prayer? Do we ever consider that we might be praying purely for ourselves? That we might not be praying “intentionally” to God at all? That we may just be asking for things and outcomes that we want.

If we are purely praying for ourselves, we must consider our motive once in a while. We've all had that situation when we only hear from someone when they want something from us. And while there's nothing wrong with petitionary prayer, that is, asking God for something, if that's the only time and the only message, then what are we really asking? Are we trying to use God to give us what we want? Is it all about me and my desires?

Even though petitionary prayer is a significant part of our Catholic and Christian traditions, it should not be our only approach. If prayer is about worship, and indeed it is, then that worship should not always want a result. Perhaps sometimes we should be praying just to be. To be with God. To rest in God.

One of my favorite quotes from Saint Augustine is my heart is restless till it rests in thee. This short prayer says something about worship, something about prayer with no strings attached, something about understanding to search for inner peace, and something about prayer without agenda.

So perhaps one of the things that we can consider is this exactly—prayer without agenda. There are so many examples of this; of course, any prayer form can be in this category. However, the more we use our intellect, imagination and mind, the more likely we become distracted and have thoughts and desires that move back towards what we need rather than just being present. Being present, specifically being present with God, was what Saint Augustine was talking about. my heart is restless till it rests in thee.

It tells the story of the search for inner peace; it also tells the story of God's love for us, of God's presence within us, and that the real reward comes when we experience God in our hearts, not just in our minds.

Contemplative prayer, notably silent prayer forms, such as centering prayer, eucharistic adoration, and Visio Divina, all rely on us quietening down, not searching the exterior world for meaning, but rather moving towards the place where God dwells 24/7. In us. In our being, in our hearts, in our souls.

One of the most beautiful things about prayer without agenda is that it's very transferable to everyday life. That may sound contradictory, given the points I've just made about contemplative prayer. However, moving our personal agenda out of the way in other parts of our lives, decisions in the workplace, and conflicts in the family, All provide us with an opportunity to pray without agenda. That is removing our personal agenda to the rear of the bus. as soon as we do this, we immediately go into a quiet dialogue with God, giving God the opportunity to participate in our everyday decisions.

This week think about this issue of prayer without agenda and how that plays out in your life. or has played out in your life, or may play out in your life. Having us come second in the priority chain and God coming first often needs a little more than a pause, or a reflection, for God's will to be injected into the situation. What are your thoughts on the matter?

Reflection, image and poetry Copyright 2023 Michael J. Cunningham OFS


A Peace filled scene … Litton Mill, Peak District, Northern England during Christmas of 2022

Dealing with the crazy concept of being an eternal being can cause us to leave ourselves baffled and confused. While we may accept the Church teaching that we are eternal beings, and scripture affirms it in so many places (you are made in my image; remain in me, as I remain in you; I am the tree, you are the branches … and more) and yet, we still have difficulty accepting this “fact.”

Sometimes, rather than trying to wrestle with the mystery of God in a struggle of understanding, it is better to leave this to acceptance. At some level, acceptance of God, and all the mystery surrounding us in this world, is an action of faith. Acceptance could be the best way forward without the struggle of bringing these things to human understanding or reasoning. But, again, even just acceptance and receipt of God’s love is often fraught with a need to understand and find relative points where the mind is satisfied rather than the heart.

If the mind is a portal to the heart and our soul, which I believe it is, and in line with centuries of church teaching, then there are other ways in which we can be reminded of our eternal nature.

One of those locations is nature itself. There is a reason we somehow calm down or are in awe of the ocean. It seems like it was always there, doing its thing, long before we arrived to experience it and long after we are gone. This external expression of nature in the seasons, the ocean, rivers, and even the weather shows us the relative nature of our human experience in time. The human experience is short-lived. We were born, live, and then, well, die. However, the death of the human element is not our death, our eternal nature, our soul lives on, and we wonder what that will be like.

While nature is not likely to be eternal in the spiritual sense, it hints at what might be to come. The poem which follows illustrates how this might be so. The river shows how it has been there for a very long time, before and after my existence. Thereby demonstrating how short my time is here in the human experience and how eternal my spiritual experience will be. Seeing or recognizing that spiritual experience through noticing what we experience on earth can be helpful in giving us a taste of the eternal. Where do you see the eternal in your world? Something to ponder for the coming week. God Bless, Mike
 

The River

THIS RIVER, a river called Wye,

Reflection, image and poetry Copyright 2023 Michael J. Cunningham OFS