2025 Homilies
To access the archive of homilies from 2025 please click here.
Ordinary Time
Ending with the Feast of Christ the King.
8th February 2026
Today’s Gospel gives us two simple images. Jesus calls his disciples salt and light. These are ordinary things, yet they change everything they touch. Salt preserves and gives flavour. Light allows people to see and to walk safely. Jesus is clear. Faith is not meant to be hidden. It is meant to shape the world we live in.
Today, the Church also marks the International Day of Prayer and Awareness against Human Trafficking, kept on the feast of St Josephine Bakhita. Her life helps us hear this Gospel with sharper ears.
As a young child in Sudan, Josephine was kidnapped and sold into slavery several times. The suffering she endured was so severe that she forgot her own birth name. Her captors called her ‘Bakhita’, meaning ‘the fortunate one’, a cruel irony given what she endured. She was beaten, scarred, and treated as property rather than a human person. Yet what stands out in her life is that cruelty did not harden her heart.
Later, when she came into contact with Christianity, she discovered a God who knew her suffering and had never abandoned her. She spoke with great simplicity about this discovery, saying that for the first time she understood that she was loved. This changed everything. She did not define herself by what had been done to her, but by who she was in God’s eyes.
When she became a Canossian sister, she was known for her gentleness, patience, and quiet joy. People noticed her calm presence. She did not speak with bitterness about her past. She forgave those who had harmed her, not because she denied the pain, but because she trusted God. Her freedom was interior, rooted in faith.
Human trafficking did not end with her lifetime. It continues today in forced labour, sexual exploitation, domestic servitude, and modern slavery. Much of it remains hidden. The Gospel speaks directly into this reality. If we are light, we cannot turn away from darkness. If we are salt, our faith must make a difference beyond ourselves.
Jesus says that light shines so that others may see good works and give glory to God. Every good work begins with prayer. Today we pray for victims and survivors, for those who work to free them, and for the conversion of hearts. Light also means awareness. We learn to notice the vulnerable, to question systems that profit from exploitation, and to refuse indifference. Salt can be small and unseen, yet it still does its work. Small choices matter.
St Josephine Bakhita shows us what it means to live as salt and light. Her dignity as a human being, created in the image and likeness of God, was wounded but never destroyed. Her life tells us that hope is possible, that faith can transform even the deepest wounds, and that grace can bring freedom even where injustice once ruled.
As we come to the Eucharist, we ask for the grace to be what Jesus calls us to be. Salt that preserves what is good. Light that does not hide. A people whose faith makes room for dignity, freedom, and hope in a wounded world.
Amen.
25th January 2026
Today, on the Sunday of the Word of God, we celebrate the gift of Scripture in our lives and reflect on its central place in our journey of faith. This special day was established by the late Pope Francis to remind us of the richness of God’s word and to encourage us to deepen our love for it.
When we hear the word of God proclaimed during Mass, it is not simply a reading from an old book. It is a living encounter with Christ himself. Before he ascended to heaven, Jesus promised to remain with his Church always. He fulfils this promise in a real and lasting way through the Eucharist and through the proclamation of the word. These are distinct, yet closely connected ways in which Christ comes to us, nourishes us, and shapes our lives.
The Church teaches that the word of God is living and active. When we come to Mass, we believe that the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ. In a different but real way, Christ is also present when the Scriptures are proclaimed, especially in the Gospel. When we listen with faith, we do not hear words from the past only. We encounter the living Christ who speaks to us today, here and now.
This is why the Church treats the Gospel with such care and reverence during the liturgy. Ideally, the Book of the Gospels is carried in procession, placed on the altar, and honoured with candles and incense. These gestures remind us that Christ himself is addressing his people when the Gospel is proclaimed.
St Jerome, who translated the Bible into Latin so that people could hear and read it in their own language, once said, ‘To ignore Scripture is to ignore Christ.’ He spoke strongly about the need to listen attentively to the word of God, warning against treating it casually or with indifference. Just as we approach the Eucharist with care and reverence, so too we are called to listen carefully when Christ speaks to us in the Scriptures.
The word of God is not only informative, it is transformative. It is given to shape our hearts and our lives. During his ministry, Jesus spoke words that brought healing, peace, and new life. His words calmed storms, healed the sick, and raised the dead. That same living word is spoken in the Church today. When we listen with open hearts, the Scriptures can bring calm in times of turmoil, healing where there is hurt, and hope when we feel discouraged.
A clear example of this is the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. After the death of Jesus, they were weighed down by sadness and confusion. The risen Lord walked with them, though they did not recognise him at first. As he explained the Scriptures, their hearts began to burn within them. Later, when they recognised him in the breaking of the bread, everything changed. This Gospel scene shows how the word prepares the heart, and how the Eucharist brings full communion with Christ.
In recent years, there has been a renewed interest in Scripture among Catholics, particularly among young people. This is a hopeful sign. The more we come to know the word of God, especially the Gospels, the more we come to know Christ himself. Scripture is not reserved for scholars or clergy. It is given to all of God’s people, to guide daily life, shape conscience, and form us in love and faith.
Today invites us to reflect honestly on how we listen to the word of God. When we come to Mass, do we listen attentively to the readings, or do we allow ourselves to be distracted? During the week, do we make any space for Scripture in our prayer or reflection? Even a short daily reading can begin to shape the way we think, choose, and act.
I encourage you to take some simple steps to make the word of God more present in your life. Keep a Bible in a visible place at home. Read a short passage each day, perhaps from the Gospels, and ask yourself what the Lord is saying to you through it. Pray with the Scriptures and allow them to guide your actions. The word of God is meant to take root in our lives and bear fruit in how we live.
On this Sunday of the Word of God, we give thanks that Christ remains with us. He speaks to us in the Scriptures and gives himself to us in the Eucharist. Through both, he strengthens, heals, and renews his people. As we approach the word of God with reverence and openness, we allow Christ to work within us. May we treasure this gift, listen attentively, and allow the word we hear to shape our lives. Amen.
18th January 2026
Last Sunday, on the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, we stood together with Jesus on the banks of the Jordan. We heard how the Lord stepped into the water with sinners, though he himself had no sin, and how the Father revealed him as the beloved Son. Today’s Gospel continues that moment. John the Baptist sees Jesus coming towards him and points him out to the crowd, saying that this man is the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sin of the world. John makes clear that everything he has done, including baptising with water, was meant to prepare people to recognise Jesus as the Messiah when he appeared.
There has been much debate in recent days about the baptism of children. A former president of the republic, Mary McAleese, wrote a newspaper article around the feast of the Baptism of the Lord in which she strongly criticised infant baptism. In simple terms, her argument is this. Since a baby cannot understand or give consent, baptising a child is said to be a violation of the child’s rights. Baptism, she claims, should be delayed until a person is old enough to make a free and informed choice.
It is important to speak about this calmly and clearly, without anger and without ridicule. Many people who read or make such arguments are sincere and are trying to make sense of faith in today’s world. Yet from a Catholic perspective, this view is misguided and, at its core, plainly wrong, because it misunderstands what baptism truly is.
Baptism is not a contract and it is not a form of recruitment. It is not a legal claim placed on a person. Baptism is a gift of grace. It is God acting first, before we can earn anything, understand everything, or choose anything.
The Church has always understood baptism in this way. Parents make serious decisions for their children every day. They decide how to feed them, how to care for their health, what language they will speak, what country they will live in, what values they will be taught, and how they will be educated. No one claims that this violates a child’s rights. On the contrary, we know that children need adults to act responsibly on their behalf until they are able to act for themselves. Faith belongs in this same area of life. Parents who ask for baptism are not forcing belief on their child. They are placing their child within a community of faith and prayer, trusting that this gift will help the child to grow and mature.
Baptism does not remove freedom. As the baptised person grows older, he or she remains free to respond to that gift, to deepen it, or even to walk away from it. The Church has never thought of baptism as something that turns a person into a believer by force. What it does is open a door. It places the child within the reach of grace, within the care of the Church, and within a story of faith that can later be embraced, or rejected, personally.
This is why today’s Gospel is so helpful. John the Baptist says that he baptises with water, but that Jesus is the one who baptises with the Holy Spirit. The water is a sign. The real action is God’s. In the baptism of a child, the Church believes that God is already at work, long before the child can speak or choose. That is not a denial of dignity or freedom. It is a profound affirmation that every human life matters to God from the very beginning.
As we continue this season of Ordinary Time, the Church invites us to keep our eyes on Jesus, just as John the Baptist did. Christ is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. He is the one on whom the Spirit rests. And he is the one who draws us into his life, often before we even realise what is happening. Baptism reminds us that faith is, first of all, a gift received, and only later a choice made. That is good news, especially for parents, for families, and for all of us who began our Christian life not with our own decision, but with God’s loving initiative.
Lent and Easter
From Ash Wednesday to Pentecost Sunday.
3rd May 2026
The first reading today from the Acts of the Apostles may seem, at first glance, to be about matters of administration and organisation in the early Church. A practical problem has arisen. The community of believers is growing rapidly, and with growth come tensions and difficulties. Some widows are being neglected in the daily distribution of food, especially those from the Greek-speaking part of the Christian community.
Yet beneath this practical problem lies something very profound about the identity of the Church:
The Church of Christ must always be a serving Church.
The apostles understand this clearly. They know that the Gospel cannot be preached authentically if the weak and vulnerable are ignored. A community that proclaims the love of Christ while neglecting those in need contradicts its own message. And so the apostles act.
They do not dismiss the complaint, they do not tell the people to stop grumbling, and they do not treat the widows as a nuisance. The apostles listen, they recognise that the concern is real, and they respond accordingly.
At the same time, the apostles also recognise that they cannot carry every responsibility alone. They say, ‘It would not be right for us to neglect the word of God so as to give out food’. This does not mean that charitable service is unimportant. It means that different ministries are needed within the Church, and all of them serve the one mission of Christ.
The apostles devote themselves to prayer and the ministry of the word. Seven men, filled with the Spirit and with wisdom, are chosen from among the faithful for the ministry of practical service and charity. Together, these ministries build up the one Body of Christ.
This moment is traditionally understood as the beginning of the diaconate in the Church.
The word ‘deacon’ comes from the Greek word for servant. That helps us understand something essential about the Church. The Church is diaconal by nature. She is called to serve because she follows Christ, and Christ came as the servant of all.
Jesus himself says, ‘The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve’. On the night before he died, the same Lord who gave us the Eucharist knelt down and washed the feet of his disciples. The altar and humble service belong together. Worship of God and love of neighbour cannot be separated in the life of the Church.
This is why, in the Catholic tradition, every man who is ordained priest must first be ordained deacon. The same is true of every bishop, who has also first passed through the diaconate. Before a man is entrusted with priestly ministry at the altar and pastoral leadership among the faithful, the Church first ordains him into the ministry of service.
That is deeply significant.
A priest is not ordained to become important. A bishop is not ordained to possess power or to rule over the faithful like a king. Ordained ministry exists for service. Authority in the Church must always be shaped by the humility of Christ, who washed feet, carried the Cross, gave his life, and came among us as one who serves.
Our first reading today also reminds us that the Church must pay attention to those who are overlooked.
The poor widows in today’s reading felt neglected. Their need could easily have been missed in a growing and busy community. Yet the apostles saw that unity in the Church depends on charity, justice, and attentiveness to those who may otherwise be forgotten.
That remains true in every parish and in every age. There are always people who feel unseen: the lonely, the elderly, the poor, the grieving, those who are sick, those who are struggling silently, those who feel forgotten even while surrounded by others.
A parish becomes truly Christian when such people are noticed, welcomed, and cared for.
And this responsibility does not belong only to clergy. The seven men chosen in today’s reading came from the Christian community. They were recognised as men filled with the Holy Spirit and wisdom. The Church depends upon the gifts, generosity, and service of all the baptised.
Some serve through prayer. Some through teaching. Some through visiting the sick. Some through practical work. Some through administration, organisation, and quiet support. Some serve through kindness, patience, encouragement, and hidden sacrifices that nobody else sees. All of this matters.
The Church grows strong wherever Christians learn to serve with love.
And notice how today’s reading ends: ‘The word of God continued to spread’. That is important. When the Church lives in charity, when burdens are shared, when the vulnerable are cared for, when ministry is rooted in humility, the Gospel becomes believable. People begin to see something of Christ alive among his people.
Today, then, the Lord asks each of us a simple question:
How am I serving? Whose burden do I help carry? Who around me feels forgotten? Where is Christ asking me to kneel down and serve with humility?
Every Christian vocation, whether lay, religious, diaconal, priestly, or episcopal, finds its true meaning in becoming more like Christ the servant.
May the risen Lord teach us to serve with his heart. May he make our parish communities places where the lonely are noticed, the weak are supported, the Gospel is preached, and the love of Christ becomes visible. And in serving one another with love, may we begin already to reveal the life of heaven in the midst of this world.
26th April 2026
Today is Good Shepherd Sunday, and each year the Church invites us to reflect in a particular way on the theme of vocation.
In the Gospel, Jesus speaks about himself as the Good Shepherd. He tells us that the shepherd knows his sheep, calls each of them by name, and that the sheep recognise his voice and follow him. He also says something very simple, yet very powerful: ‘I have come so that they may have life and have it to the full.’
That is God’s desire for every one of us. A full life, a meaningful life, a life that leads to heaven.
The question for us is how we find that life.
Jesus gives us the answer. The sheep listen to his voice, and they follow. This is where vocation begins. It begins with listening, with learning to recognise the voice of Christ in the midst of many other voices.
Every one of us has a vocation. A calling from God is given to each and every person in the Church. God calls some to the priesthood. He calls some to the religious life. He calls many to marriage and family life. He calls every Christian to serve him through their daily work and responsibilities.
At times, vocation is understood in a narrow way, as if it applied only to priests and religious. The reality is wider and closer to our daily lives. The way a person lives, the way they treat others, the way they carry out their work, all of this belongs to their Christian vocation.
A person who lives their work with honesty and care, who serves others, who remains faithful in small things, is responding to God’s universal call to holiness. This is true in every walk of life.
Some are called to become doctors, teachers, engineers. Others are called to work as builders, electricians, plumbers, or bakers. These are ways of serving God and serving other people with our personal gifts and skills. A good and honest worker who helps others, who does their job with diligence and care, and who lives their Christian faith is doing something very important in the eyes of God.
So the deeper question becomes: what is God asking of me? That question unfolds over time. It calls for prayer, patience, and humility. It also asks for a willingness to listen, quietly and attentively, to the Lord who speaks within the heart.
This is why the Church asks us today to pray in a special way for vocations. We pray that young people will be open to the call to the priesthood and religious life. We pray for the courage to respond with openness and generosity. We pray for all the faithful, that each person may live their vocation with faithfulness.
Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. It reminds us that Christ the Good Shepherd is leading his people towards fullness of life. He leads them where they are meant to be. When we follow him, we are led towards what is truly good.
For that reason, it is important to remain close to Christ. We learn to recognise his voice through prayer, through the Scriptures, through the Eucharist, and through the daily examination of conscience and the sacrament of Confession. In these places, the Good Shepherd speaks to his people.
Today, we ask the Lord for the grace to listen. We ask for a heart that is open to his voice. And we ask for the courage to follow wherever he leads.
If we live in that way, our lives begin to take shape according to God’s plan. Whatever path we are called to walk will lead towards him.
That is the promise we are given in our Gospel today. A life lived with Christ, guided by his voice, becomes a life that is full, a life that bears fruit, and a life that leads, in the end, to the joys of heaven. Amen.
25th April 2026
This evening we gather for two very important reasons. It is Vocations Sunday, when the Church asks us to pray and think about how God is calling each of us. And it is also one of the last preparation Masses before your Confirmation. That is no coincidence. The gift you are about to receive, the gift of the Holy Spirit, is closely connected to your vocation, to your calling in life.
In the Gospel today, Jesus speaks about himself as the Good Shepherd and the gate. He says something very simple, yet very powerful: ‘I have come so that they may have life and have it to the full.’ That is what God wants for you. A full life. A meaningful life. A life that leads to heaven.
But how do we find that life?
Jesus gives us a clue. He says that the sheep recognise the voice of the shepherd. They listen, and they follow. That is where vocation begins. It begins with listening. Not just to all the noise around us, but to the voice of Christ.
Every one of you is called by God. A vocation, a calling from God, is not only for a few special people. It is for all of you. God has a plan for your life. He calls some to be priests. He calls some to be religious sisters or brothers. He calls others to marriage and family life. He calls many to serve him through their work, through their profession, through the way they live each day.
Some of you might become doctors, teachers, engineers. Some might become builders, electricians, plumbers, or bakers. These are not just jobs. If you live them well, they become a way of serving God and serving other people. A good and honest worker who helps others, who does their job with care, who lives their Christian faith, is doing something very important in the eyes of God.
The question is not simply, ‘What do I want to do?’ The deeper question is, ‘What is God calling me to do?’ And that is not always something you figure out all at once. It takes time, it takes prayer, and it takes listening.
This is where the Holy Spirit comes in.
In the sacrament of Confirmation, you will receive the Holy Spirit in a new and deeper way. The Spirit gives you gifts. Wisdom, understanding, right judgement, courage, knowledge, reverence, and a sense of wonder in God’s presence. These are not just words or phrases from the catechism to learn. These are real helps coming from God. The gifts of the Spirit guide you, they strengthen you, and they help you to recognise the Lord’s voice and to follow it faithfully.
To live inspired by the Holy Spirit means to let God guide your choices. It means asking him for help. It means trying to do what is right, even when it is difficult or unpopular. It also means staying close to Christ through prayer, the Eucharist, and frequent Confession.
If you live that way, something important happens. Your life begins to take shape. Your vocation becomes clearer. And whatever path you take, it becomes a path towards holiness.
Do not be afraid to follow God’s call. Sometimes people think that if they listen to God and obey his will, something will be taken away from them. The opposite is true. Through Christ and the Holy Spirit, God leads us to a fuller life, a better life, a life with purpose.
So as you prepare for Confirmation, ask the Holy Spirit for one simple grace: the grace to listen with and open heart and mind, to recognise the voice of Christ in what you hear, and the courage to follow where he leads.
If you do that, your life, whatever direction it takes, will be lived with God. It will help build up Christ’s kingdom here on earth. And one day, after a life lived well and in faithfulness to the Gospel, it will lead you home to be with Christ and with the saints forever. Amen.
24th April 2026
The Gospel we have just heard leaves no room for doubt about the Eucharist. Christ speaks directly and plainly about the gift of his Body and Blood, and he does so in a way that challenges those who are listening.
The scene in our Gospel is striking. The people around Jesus begin to argue among themselves. They are unsettled and struggling with what they hear. ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ It is a serious question, especially from a Jewish perspective, and it shows how difficult the Lord’s words are to accept on a human level.
What matters is how Jesus responds in that situation. He does not step back or soften what he has just said. He does not explain it away or reduce it to an image or symbolic language that would be easier to accept. Instead, Jesus reinforces his teaching. He repeats it with greater clarity and insistence: ‘My flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink.’ In this way, he makes it clear that he truly means what he is saying.
Many of his listeners found this teaching too hard to accept, and some of his disciples turned away and no longer followed him. The Lord allows them to go. He does not call them back or attempt to soften what he has said. He allows the full weight of his teaching to stand, even when it leads to rejection.
This matters for us. The Church has always received these words in John chapter six as they are given. In the Eucharist, we are given the true Body and Blood of Christ under the appearance of bread and wine. This is no mere symbol or reminder. It is the Lord himself, really present, given to us as food for eternal life and as the source of our strength in faith.
In the centuries that followed, this truth was challenged in different ways. Among those who rejected the Catholic understanding of the real presence were the Reformers Huldrych Zwingli and John Calvin, whose teachings influenced large parts of Europe, including regions of Switzerland, where the Catholic faith came under strong pressure.
Into that situation, the Church sent missionaries to preach the Catholic faith and to strengthen those who wished to remain faithful. Saint Fidelis of Sigmaringen, whose feast we celebrate today, was one of them. Earlier in his life, he had been trained as a lawyer and was known for his personal integrity and his care for the poor. In time, he left that profession so that he could give himself fully to God as a Capuchin friar and priest. He lived very simply, was a man of prayer, and preached with great clarity and conviction.
Saint Fidelis went into regions where the faith had been weakened and where opposition to the Catholic Church was strong. He was well aware of the risks and had already received threats to his life. Even so, he continued to preach the Catholic faith, including the truth of the Eucharist, trusting that the truth of the Gospel was worth more than his own wellbeing and safety.
On the day of his death, Fidelis celebrated Mass and preached to the people. As he made his way back, he was confronted by armed men of Calvinist conviction who opposed his mission. They demanded that he abandon the Catholic faith. They offered him the chance to save his life if he would renounce what he had been preaching. St Fidelis refused. He remained faithful to Christ and to the truth he had proclaimed, and for that reason he was killed.
The life and death of St Fidelis stand before us as a clear witness. The Gospel speaks of eating the flesh of the Son of Man and drinking his blood. Fidelis believed those words with his whole heart. He celebrated that mystery at the altar each day. In the end, he gave his life rather than deny what he had received and proclaimed.
In our own day, we may not face violence for our faith in the same way, yet we are not without our own trials. There is pressure to give up or to remain silent about what the Church teaches. Many aspects of the Catholic faith and moral teaching are seen as outdated, nonsensical, or even offensive. Even so, the Church continues to hand on that teaching without change, and the saints and martyrs of all times bear witness to it with their lives. We too are called to remain faithful to what we believe to be true, even when it is unpopular and challenging.
On the feast of St Fidelis, we are asked for a simple and honest response: to believe what the Church has always believed, especially about the Eucharist. Many have lost sight of this and treat the Lord’s presence as symbolic. We are called to receive the Lord in the Eucharist with reverence and faith, and to remain faithful to his teaching and example in the way we live each day. For, as the Lord says, ‘Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in him’. Amen.
22nd April 2026
In today’s Gospel from Gospel of John, Jesus says something very simple, yet very meaningful: ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.’
We all understand what hunger is like. Our bodies remind us of it every day. If we do not eat, we grow weak. If we do not drink, we will die after only a few days. That is how we are made. We depend on what is given to us.
There is also another kind of hunger, and we know that as well. A hunger for peace, for meaning, for something steady in the middle of life. People try to respond to that hunger in different ways. Some look for it in worldly success, some in earthly comforts, some in keeping busy and making money. These things can help for a time, but they do not reach deep enough. The hunger returns after a short while, and we want more and more.
Jesus speaks into that very human experience. He does not offer advice or a method, like Confucius or Buddha. He offers himself. ‘I am the bread of life.’ In other words, he is saying: if you want life that truly satisfies, come to me.
And we hear these words in Easter time. The one who speaks them to us is the one who has died and is risen for us. He is alive in a way that death cannot touch again. So the life he gives is not something temporary, something fleeting. It is life that endures, life that carries us beyond the limits of this world.
Then Jesus speaks about the will of the Father. He says that he should lose nothing of what has been given to him, and that he should raise it up on the last day.
That is a very strong promise. It tells us that our lives and our future are not in our own hands alone. The Father has entrusted us to the Son, and the Son does not let go of what he has received. There are times when we feel uncertain, when faith becomes weak, when we fall into sin or grow tired in prayer. Even then, Christ remains faithful. He holds on to us, even when we struggle to hold on to him.
And his goal is clear. He will raise us up on the last day. That is where our life is going.
This brings us very naturally to the Eucharist. When Jesus calls himself the bread of life, we experience the meaning of those words most fully at the altar. There, Jesus gives himself to us as food. In Holy Communion, we receive him, truly present, and we are united with him.
That is not simply a gesture or a reminder. It is a real gift. His life becomes the strength of our life. Day by day, he sustains us and keeps us close to him in the Eucharist.
So the Gospel leaves us with a simple and very practical question. Do we come to him as often as we can? Do we place our trust in him, and do we allow him to nurture us with his divine life?
Faith, at its heart, is not complicated. It is to come to Christ, to remain with him, and to receive what he gives with faith and gratitude.
If we do that, then even in the middle of ordinary life, with all its pressures and uncertainties, we will not remain empty. We will carry within us the life he gives, and the comforting promise that he will raise us up on the last day.
19th April 2026
The Gospel of the road to Emmaus is one of the most beautiful and recognisable accounts of the Risen Lord. It is also one of the most honest. It begins in disappointment and sadness. Two of the men who had followed Jesus before his crucifixion are leaving Jerusalem. They are walking away from the place where everything seemed to have fallen apart. Their hope has been shaken. The two disciples had trusted in Jesus, and now they struggle to understand what has happened.
As they walk, they speak with each other about all that has taken place. The two disciples try to make sense of it. And it is precisely there, in that confusion and conversation, that Jesus comes and walks beside them. Yet they do not recognise him at that moment.
This is often how the Lord comes to us. He draws near in the ordinary path of life, in our questions, in our disappointments, in our searching for meaning and truth. The Lord’s presence is real, yet not always recognised.
The first of the key moments in our Gospel today is that Jesus listens. He allows the disciples to speak. He lets them tell their story. Only then does he begin to speak, and he opens the Scriptures to them. He helps them to see that what they have experienced is not outside the plan of God. What seemed like failure is, in truth, part of the path to glory.
The second key moment takes place at the table. They urge him to stay. ‘Stay with us, for it is nearly evening.’ He enters their home, sits at table with them, takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. In that moment, their eyes are opened. They recognise him in the breaking of the bread.
Here the Gospel becomes deeply Eucharistic. The same pattern is present: the Lord who speaks in the Scriptures is the Lord who gives himself in the breaking of the bread. Word and sacrament belong together. In both, Christ makes himself known.
Then comes the third key moment. Jesus vanishes from their sight, yet he is not absent. His presence has changed. He is now present in a new way, in the celebration of the Eucharist. The disciples say to one another, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us as he spoke to us on the road?’ And they rise at once and return to Jerusalem.
They return to the place they had left. The direction of their lives is changed. They go back with a new understanding, with renewed faith, and with a message to share with others.
Our Gospel this Sunday is more than just a story about two disciples on the first Easter Sunday. It is a pattern for the Christian life.
We walk our own roads. There are times when faith in Christ is clear, and there are times when it is not. There are moments of hope, and moments of confusion. Yet the Lord walks with us. He listens, he speaks, and he leads us to recognise him.
This is also the pattern of the Mass.
We are gathered together. We bring with us the reality of our lives, our hopes and our struggles. We listen to the Word of God. The Scriptures are opened to us. Then we are led to the altar, where the Lord gives himself to us in the breaking of the bread.
There, like the disciples, we are given the grace to recognise him.
Yet the Gospel does not end at the table. The disciples do not remain in Emmaus. They rise and return. They are sent.
This is an important point for us. The Mass does not end when we leave the church. It continues in the way we live. What we have received is meant to shape our lives.
If we recognise the Lord in the Eucharist, then that recognition must carry into our relationships, our work, our decisions, and our daily responsibilities.
We are called to live what we have received.
That means that the charity of Christ becomes visible in simple, concrete ways: in patience, in truthfulness, in forgiveness, in care for others, and in fidelity to what is right. These are not separate from the Eucharist. They flow from it.
The disciples on the road to Emmaus moved from confusion to understanding, from sadness to hope, from isolation to communion, and from receiving to being sent.
That same movement is offered to us each time we come to Mass.
We come as we are. We listen. We receive. And we are sent.
The question the Emmaus story leaves with us is simple: do we allow the key moments mentioned in our Gospel today to take place in our lives?
Do we open our hearts and minds to the Lord when he draws near?
Do we allow his Word to shape our understanding?
Do we receive him in the Eucharist with faith and love?
And do we carry what we have received into the life we live beyond these walls?
If we do, then the road we walk each day becomes, like the road to Emmaus, a place of encounter with the Risen Lord.
And others may come to recognise him through the way we live as his disciples in the world.
Amen.
15th April 2026
In our Gospel reading today (John 3:16–21), we heard one of the best-known and most often quoted verses in the entire New Testament:
‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life’ (Jn 3:16).
This verse is, in a sense, a little creed. It offers a brief summary of the hope we carry as Christians. It proclaims that God has not abandoned the world after the Fall, but that he has entered into it through his Son, Jesus Christ, to save it and to bring eternal life to all who believe.
This truth is not merely something to be treasured in personal reflection and prayer. Many Christians use it to witness publicly to their faith. While I was preparing this homily, I thought of a rather striking example. In some sports, particularly American football and baseball, athletes often wear black markings under their eyes, called eye black, to reduce glare from the sun or stadium lights. Sometimes, on that eye black, athletes write short messages or Scripture references, such as John 3:16, in small white letters. When television cameras focus on the players’ faces, these small messages proclaim the Gospel to a very wide audience. This is a subtle and discreet way of witnessing to faith, yet it can be very effective.
Remaining within the world of sport, there are also more visible ways in which athletes profess their faith publicly. It is not unusual to see players blessing themselves after scoring a goal or before beginning a match. One well-known example is Tim Tebow, a former American football player who became widely known for his visible expressions of Christian faith. During important moments, he would kneel in prayer on the sidelines, and sometimes on the field after scoring. This gesture became so recognisable that it was widely imitated and came to be known as ‘Tebowing’. His willingness to express his faith publicly encouraged many young people to be open about their belief in Christ.
Public expressions of faith are not always welcomed. Some spectators feel uncomfortable when religion is made visible in settings such as football matches or rugby games. They argue that sport should be free from religious reference. As a result, some sports associations have banned the practice of writing personal messages, including Bible references, on eye black and other visible gear.
This reaction reflects a broader cultural trend. In many societies today, religion is increasingly pushed into the private sphere. There is a widespread but mistaken belief that faith is a purely personal matter, something that should not be expressed in public. In such a context, even small outward signs of faith take on greater importance.
Faith is never merely a private affair. A Christian cannot be divided into a public self and a private self, as if one could live a Christian life inwardly while outwardly hiding it. A Christian is called to live as a Christian in every place and in every circumstance.
Sometimes, it is the small gestures that speak most clearly. When someone makes the Sign of the Cross and says grace quietly before a meal in a canteen or a restaurant, that simple action may prompt others nearby to think about God, perhaps for the first time that day, or even after a long time. A quiet and humble act of faith can plant a seed in another person’s heart.
Thus, small signs can become powerful ways of proclaiming the Gospel, especially in a society that is becoming increasingly secularised and forgetful of God. And who knows how many people, after seeing a Bible reference written under the eyes of a sportsman on television, have gone to a Bible, looked up the verse, and, through that simple encounter, found their way to Jesus Christ.
Therefore, we should never be ashamed of our faith, nor should we hide it away. Even a quiet and simple gesture can become the means by which the Gospel reaches a heart that is searching for God.
12th April 2026
Today, on this Octave Day of Easter, we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday, a feast that draws us deeply into the very mystery of God’s character and nature. It is a day when the Church invites us to look with wonder upon the boundless love of Christ, crucified and risen from the dead, who comes to bring peace, forgiveness, and new life to a wounded world.
In today’s Gospel, we hear how Jesus appears to his apostles. His first words are: ‘Peace be with you’. Though the disciples had failed and abandoned him on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, there is nothing bitter, nothing resentful, nothing unforgiving in his words. Then, breathing on them, he says with divine generosity: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven’. The very first gift the risen Christ gives to his Church is the gift of mercy and forgiveness, expressed in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, entrusted to the apostles and their successors.
Divine mercy is not something secondary to the Christian faith. It stands at the very heart of the Gospel: the call to repent, to trust in God, and to believe in the Good News. Without love and mercy, poured into the world through the pierced heart of Christ on the cross, there can be no true Christian life.
This special feast was revealed to the Church through St Faustina Kowalska, a humble Polish nun, to whom Jesus entrusted the message of Divine Mercy in the 1930s. Later, it was St John Paul II, himself a witness to the sufferings caused by war and human cruelty, who established this Sunday as Divine Mercy Sunday for the whole Church. He saw that the modern world, with all its woundedness and spiritual poverty, had a deep need to rediscover the mercy of God. He taught simply and clearly: ‘Mercy is love’s second name’.
This Easter week, it is impossible not to remember Pope Francis, who died on Easter Monday a year ago, and whose entire pontificate was marked by this same message of mercy. Pope Francis often said that ‘the name of God is mercy’. He reminded us again and again that the Church is called to be a field hospital for the wounded. Pope Francis challenged us to place mercy before judgement, to bring healing to the wounded, and to seek encounter with the marginalised. Through his words and actions, Pope Francis showed the world that God’s love and forgiveness are greater than any sin, greater than any failure, greater than any distance we may have placed between ourselves and God.
Yet mercy, the late Pope insisted, is not something we receive only for ourselves. It must be passed on. It must be made visible in how we treat others:
– by forgiving those who have wronged us
– by reaching out to the poor, the lonely, and the abandoned
– by caring for creation, which Pope Francis called ‘our common home’
– by being patient, compassionate, and generous in everyday life
On this Divine Mercy Sunday, the Lord invites us to three simple, life-changing responses.
First, to trust in his mercy. No matter how heavy our burdens or how great our sins, his love is infinitely greater. As Thérèse of Lisieux said:
‘Even if I had all the crimes possible on my conscience, I am sure I should lose none of my confidence. Heartbroken with repentance, I would simply throw myself into my Saviour’s arms. No one can make me frightened any more, because I know what to believe about his mercy and his love; I know that, in the twinkling of an eye, all those thousands of sins would be consumed as a drop of water cast into a blazing fire’.
Second, to receive his mercy, especially through the great gift of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where we encounter the healing embrace of Christ, the Good Shepherd.
Third, to live his mercy. In our homes, in our parish, in our workplaces, in every relationship, we are called to be signs of Christ’s mercy at work in the world.
Today, as we come to receive the Body and Blood of the risen Lord, let us make our own the prayer given to St Faustina: ‘Jesus, I trust in you’.
May his mercy heal us, renew us, and send us out as instruments of his peace in our world.
Amen.
5th April 2026 – Easter Sunday
‘The Lord is risen, he is truly risen.’
This is the joyful message of Easter, the good news that brings us together as a Christian community on this most holy night. In the past six weeks, during the Lenten season, we have engaged in prayer, fasting, and almsgiving as signs of penance and as a heartfelt expression of our sadness over the events of Holy Week, that is, the Lord’s Passion and death on account of our sins. But now, with this Vigil, the joy that defines us as Christians, as Easter people, breaks through, dispelling the gloom and darkness of the Lenten period.
As we are gathered here tonight to celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, our eyes are drawn to the Easter candle, standing tall and burning brightly, a symbol of our Easter joy. The candle was lit at the beginning of this Easter Vigil, a light kindled in the darkness of the night. A beautiful prayer accompanied this moment:
Christ yesterday and today,
the beginning and the end,
Alpha and Omega,
all time belongs to him,
and all ages;
to him be glory and power,
through every age and for ever. Amen.
This prayer reminds us of the eternal nature of Christ’s sacrifice and victory. He is the beginning and the end, the one who was, who is, and who is to come. His resurrection is not just an event of the past; it continues to impact our lives today.
After this, the Easter candle was carried into the church, its light spreading and driving away the darkness that surrounded us at this nightly hour. This ancient and very meaningful ceremony reminds us that Christ, our Light, overcame the darkness of sin and death, offering hope to a world longing for redemption. The Gospel of John tells us, ‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’
The act of sharing the Easter light with one another also reminds us of our mission as followers of Christ. We are called to bring the light of Christ into the dark corners of our world, to bring hope to those in despair, comfort to those who are suffering, and love to those who feel forgotten and abandoned.
Candles are a wonderful symbol of God’s love. To shine and brighten the darkness, a candle must give itself away, it must consume itself; only then will it fulfil its purpose. A candle that does not burn and shine brightly is merely a stick of wax. Similarly, love that is not willing to sacrifice is hardly love at all. True love involves sacrifice, and we only make sacrifices for things or people that truly matter to us. In the same way, this candlelight serves as a beautiful reminder of Christ’s self-consuming love for us.
Throughout the Easter season, the candle burns brightly during our services, constantly reminding us of the Risen Christ’s presence among us. It will be placed beside the baptismal font, where we welcome new members into the Body of Christ. Just as the Easter candle is lit, so too are the candles given to the newly baptised, symbolising the light of Christ now shining in their hearts.
As we celebrate this Easter season, let us think about what it means to be people of light. In a world that can often be overwhelming or frightening, we are called to be witnesses of the hope and joy of the resurrection. May the light of the Risen Christ fill our hearts with joy. May it guide our steps and lead us to live as faithful disciples. And may we carry this light into the world, so that all may come to know the love and mercy of God.
Amen.
2nd April 2026 – Good Friday
Tonight, as we enter into the Sacred Triduum, we are not simply remembering something that happened a long time ago. Our liturgy draws us into the events of the first Holy Thursday, leading up to Good Friday. We are taken there to watch and see. The actions of the Lord and the events of that evening are made truly present to us, as if we were there, witnessing everything first hand.
We find ourselves in the Upper Room, at the table of the Last Supper. The disciples are gathered, and the Lord is with them. We too are at the same table, together with Jesus and his disciples.
We hear the Lord’s voice. We see what he does. Jesus takes bread into his hands. He gives thanks. He breaks it. And he says, ‘Take and eat. This is my body, given for you.’ Then he takes the cup and says, ‘Take and drink. This is my blood, poured out for you.’ In that moment, he gives himself to his disciples, and he gives himself to us, as he does at every Mass.
What Jesus does here points beyond the Upper Room. It is already directed towards Calvary and the cross of the next day. There, his body will be broken and his blood will be poured out. The bread and the wine on the Lord’s table already show this. In their separation, they make present the sacrifice that is to come, as his flesh and blood, his body and soul are separated in death. What we witness tonight is therefore not separate from Good Friday. It is Calvary made present to us in a sacramental way. The Lord is offering himself wholly to us in his Sacred Body and Precious Blood.
When Jesus says, ‘Do this in memory of me’, it is more than a simple request to remember. It is a command that makes this moment present in every age. This is why we gather for the Eucharist each day, and why we are here tonight. We are not simply recalling the Last Supper. We are truly sharing in it.
Our Gospel tonight brings us to another moment in the Upper Room. The Lord rises from the table. He kneels and begins to wash the feet of his disciples. In this action, he shows us the meaning of his whole life. He gives himself. He serves. He lowers himself for others. And he says, ‘I have given you an example.’
The one who gives himself in the one bread and the one chalice is the same who kneels in service before those he loves. To be baptised and to receive the Lord in the Eucharist is to enter into his way of life. It means learning from Jesus, meek and humble, and allowing his example to shape how we live.
In a few moments, we will see these same actions again. The feet of his disciples will be washed. The bread will be taken, blessed, and broken. The chalice will be lifted. The words of the Lord will be spoken, faithful to his commands. And through these sacred actions, what Jesus did then, about two thousand years ago, is made truly present here.
This is why this night is so holy. It is the night when the Lord gives us himself completely in gifts of the Holy Eucharist. It is the night when he entrusts this lasting sacrifice to the Church. It is the night when he shows us how to live before God, and how to die before God, as faithful followers of his Son.
Tonight, we receive his body and blood with gratitude and faith. We remain with him in the garden, keeping watch and praying as he enters his Passion. And we learn to live as he has shown us, in faithful acts of love and service.
In this celebration tonight, we are not outside the paschal mystery. We are in the midst of it. We sit at the Lord’s table. We listen to his voice. We receive his precious gift, the gift of his life. And we are invited to follow him, from this room to the cross, and into the life that he gives through his sacrifice of love and mercy on Calvary, truly present in the Eucharist.
Good Friday Meditation on the Seven Last Words of Jesus Christ
First Word
‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’
Lord Jesus, you speak words of forgiveness while you are being crucified. You do not condemn. You do not turn away. You entrust those who wound you to the mercy of the Father.
Teach us to forgive. Teach us to let go of anger and resentment. When we are hurt, give us the grace to respond with mercy.
Second Word
‘Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’
Lord Jesus, you turn to the one who asks for mercy. Even in your suffering, you bring hope. You open the door of heaven.
Remember us when we turn to you. Strengthen our trust in your mercy. Help us to believe that no life is beyond your saving love.
Third Word
‘Woman, behold your son… Behold your mother.’
Lord Jesus, from the cross you give us your Mother. You form a new family, born from your sacrifice.
Help us to receive one another as brothers and sisters. Teach us to care for one another with patience and love. Keep us united in your Church.
Fourth Word
‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’
Lord Jesus, you enter into the deepest darkness. You share in the experience of abandonment and suffering.
Be close to all who feel alone, forgotten, or overwhelmed. In our own moments of darkness, help us to hold on in faith, even when we do not understand.
Fifth Word
‘I thirst.’
Lord Jesus, you thirst. You thirst in your body, and you thirst for our souls, the souls of your faithful.
Awaken in us a deeper longing for you. Help us to recognise our own thirst for truth, for love, and for life. Lead us to the living water that you alone can give.
Sixth Word
‘It is finished.’
Lord Jesus, your mission is complete. You have given everything. Nothing is held back.
Teach us to be faithful in what is given to us. Help us to persevere, even when the path is difficult. May our lives be shaped by your obedience and trust.
Seventh Word
‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’
Lord Jesus, in your final moment, you entrust yourself completely to the Father.
Teach us to place our lives in God’s hands. In life and in death, help us to trust in his love. Keep us faithful to the end.
Concluding Prayer
Lord Jesus,
we have stood at the foot of your cross.
We have listened to your words.
We have seen your love poured out for us.
Keep us close to you.
Help us to carry what we have received into our lives.
And lead us, through your Passion and death,
to the joy of your Resurrection.
Amen.
29th March 2026
As we come to the last Friday of Lent, we find ourselves standing at a threshold. The Church has led us step by step through these weeks, calling us to prayer, to repentance, and to a deeper awareness of God’s presence in our lives. Now we are about to enter Holy Week, the most sacred time of the year, when we walk closely with Christ through the final events of his earthly life.
In the Gospel of these final days, the atmosphere becomes more intense. We see opposition building against Jesus. Words and arguments become sharper. Positions become clearer. Some begin to believe in him more deeply, while others harden their hearts. There is a growing sense that everything is moving towards a decisive moment. Nothing is random. Everything is leading towards the cross.
This is important for us to notice, because it helps us understand what Holy Week really is.
Holy Week is not simply a remembrance of past events, as though we were looking back at something that happened long ago. It is an invitation to enter into those events. In the liturgy, the Church makes these mysteries present to us. We are not spectators watching from a distance. We are being drawn into the mystery of Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection, here and now.
And so the question for us today is simple: where do we stand?
Throughout Lent, we have been asked to examine our lives. We have been invited to turn away from sin and to return to God, through prayer, through fasting, and through acts of charity. Perhaps we have taken that seriously. Perhaps we have struggled to keep our resolutions. Perhaps we feel we have only begun. Wherever we are, this is the moment to be honest before God, without excuses and without discouragement.
Because Holy Week asks something more of us.
On Palm Sunday, we will hear the crowd welcoming Jesus with joy, crying out ‘Hosanna’. It is a moment full of hope and expectation. Yet within a few days, the same crowd will cry out ‘Crucify him’. The Gospel places these two moments side by side to show us something about the human heart. It can be enthusiastic and generous one moment, and then fearful or self-protective the next, especially when following Christ becomes difficult or demanding.
That is why these final days of Lent matter. They are a time to become steady. A time to let our faith take deeper root, so that it is not dependent on moods or circumstances. A time to decide, calmly but firmly, that we will remain with Christ, not only when it is easy, but also when our Christian faith asks something of us.
To follow Christ into Holy Week means to stay with him.
To stay with him in the Upper Room, where he gives himself to us in the Eucharist and teaches us what it means to serve.
To stay with him in Gethsemane, where he enters into fear and anguish, and yet entrusts himself completely to the Father.
To stay with him on the cross, where his love is shown in its fullest and most demanding form, a love that gives itself completely.
This is not something we do by our own strength. It begins with a simple decision of the heart, and it is sustained by grace. It may be as simple as making time for the liturgies of Holy Week, as simple as being present, attentive, and open.
So as we approach Palm Sunday, we can make quiet resolutions:
That we will walk this week with Christ.
That we will make space in our lives for these sacred days.
That we will not turn away from the cross, but remain there, trusting that it leads to life.
If we do that, if we try to make an effort, then the events of Holy Week will not pass us by. They will shape us and the way we live. They will deepen our faith, strengthen our hope, and open our hearts more fully to the mystery of God’s love.
And that is where Lent has been leading us all along.
15th March 2026
Today’s first reading tells a surprising story.
God sends the prophet Samuel to the house of Jesse in Bethlehem. One of Jesse’s sons is to become the new king of Israel.
When the first son walks in, Samuel is impressed. He looks strong and capable. Samuel immediately thinks, ‘Surely this must be the one’.
But God corrects him. God says something that we all need to hear:
‘Man looks at appearances, but the Lord looks at the heart.’
One by one the sons of Jesse pass before Samuel. Seven of them. Each time Samuel expects that this must be the chosen one. Each time God says no.
Finally Samuel asks, ‘Are these all your sons?’
Jesse replies that there is one more, the youngest. He is not even in the house. He is out in the fields looking after the sheep.
They bring him in. His name is David.
And God says, ‘This is the one’.
Samuel anoints him with oil, and from that moment the Spirit of the Lord comes upon him.
It is a striking moment in the Bible. The future king of Israel is not the strongest or the most impressive. He is the youngest son, a shepherd boy whom nobody had thought important enough to call in from the fields.
God sees differently.
People are often impressed by outward things: strength, success, appearance, reputation. But God sees something deeper. God sees the heart.
This is an important message for us in Lent.
Lent is a time when the Church invites us to look again at our lives. Not only the outward things that others can see, but the deeper things of the heart.
How do we pray?
How do we treat other people?
What is happening in our hearts when nobody else is watching?
Because that is where God is looking.
And there is something comforting in this as well.
Sometimes we feel unnoticed or unimportant. Perhaps we think that what we do does not matter very much.
David was just a shepherd boy in a field. Yet God saw him. God knew him. And God had a plan for his life.
God sees each of us in the same way.
He sees the good that others may not notice.
He sees the efforts we make to be faithful.
He sees the quiet acts of kindness that nobody else sees.
And he works through them.
Laetare Sunday, this Fourth Sunday of Lent, reminds us that the joy of Easter is already drawing near. But that joy begins with a heart that is open to God.
So perhaps the most important question from today’s reading is this:
If God looks at our hearts, what does he see there?
Lent gives us time to let God shape our hearts again through prayer, through repentance, and through acts of charity.
And when we allow him to do that, something beautiful happens.
The same Spirit who came upon David is at work in us as well, quietly shaping our lives according to God’s plan.
Fr Frank’s homily for our Confirmation candidates:
Today the Church gives us a very interesting story from the Bible. It is the story of how David was chosen by God.
God sends the prophet Samuel to a town called Bethlehem. Samuel is told to visit the house of a man named Jesse, because one of Jesse’s sons will become the future king of Israel.
Jesse brings his sons before Samuel. The first one is tall and strong. Samuel looks at him and thinks, ‘This must be the one God has chosen’.
But God says something very important:
‘People look at the outside, but the Lord looks at the heart.’
That means God does not choose people because they look impressive. God cares about what is inside a person.
One by one the sons pass before Samuel. But God says no to each of them.
Finally Samuel asks, ‘Do you have another son?’
Jesse says, ‘Yes, the youngest one. He is out looking after the sheep.’
So they call David. When David comes in, God says to Samuel, ‘This is the one.’
Samuel then pours oil on David’s head. This is called anointing. It is a special sign that God has chosen someone and given him a mission.
And the Bible tells us something very important. It says that the Spirit of the Lord came upon David from that day on.
So three things happen to David.
First, God chooses him.
Second, he is anointed with oil.
Third, the Spirit of God comes upon him.
Something very similar will happen to you in the sacrament of Confirmation.
In Confirmation the bishop will place oil on your forehead. This oil is called chrism. When he does this he will say:
‘Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.’
Just like David, you are anointed with oil.
Just like David, the Holy Spirit is given to you.
Just like David, you are strengthened for a mission.
But what does the Holy Spirit actually do in our lives?
The Church teaches that the Holy Spirit gives us seven special gifts. These are not like birthday presents that we unwrap once and then forget about after a while. They are gifts that help us live our faith every day.
The first gift is wisdom. Wisdom helps us see what really matters in life. It reminds us that loving God and loving others is more important than popularity or success.
The second gift is understanding. Understanding helps us see more deeply what God is teaching us, especially when we read the Bible or when we come to Mass.
The third gift is counsel. Counsel helps us make good decisions. Sometimes we are not sure what the right thing to do is. The Holy Spirit then helps and guides us.
The fourth gift is fortitude, which means courage. Being a Christian sometimes requires courage. It may mean standing up for what is right or speaking the truth, even when others laugh or disagree.
The fifth gift is knowledge. Knowledge helps us recognise God’s goodness and his presence in the world around us.
The sixth gift is piety. Piety means having a loving relationship with God. It helps us pray, come to church on Sunday, and trust God in our daily lives.
The seventh gift is fear of the Lord. This does not mean being frightened of God. It means respecting God and wanting to live in his friendship because we love him.
Through these very special gifts the Holy Spirit helps us to be good followers of Jesus and to imitate his example.
You might wonder why the Church offers you these gifts now, at this stage in your lives.
The reason is that you are growing up. When you were baptised, the Holy Spirit already came into your life. But in Confirmation the Holy Spirit strengthens you, so that you can live your faith more fully and more confidently.
Think again about David. When Samuel first anointed him, David was still young. He was not yet king. But the Spirit of God began to guide and strengthen him from that day onward.
In the same way, Confirmation is not the end of your journey of faith. It is really the beginning of something new.
Jesus is saying to you: ‘I know you. I see your heart. I am giving you my Spirit. Now go and live as my disciple.’
And remember something very important from today’s reading.
God chose David even though he was the youngest and the least expected.
That reminds us that God often works through people we would not expect. He does not choose people because they are the strongest or the most impressive.
He chooses people whose hearts are open to him.
So as you prepare for Confirmation, ask the Holy Spirit to help you grow in these gifts. Ask the Spirit to give you wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and a deep love for God.
And remember that the Holy Spirit will always be there to guide you.
8th March 2026
Today in the Gospel we hear a story about Jesus sitting beside a well. He is tired and thirsty. A woman comes to the well to draw water, and Jesus asks her for a drink.
At first this might not sound like a very exciting story. But something very important happens there.
Jesus begins to speak to the woman about a different kind of water. He says that he can give living water. He tells her that whoever drinks this water will never be thirsty again.
The woman is confused. She is thinking about ordinary water, the kind that comes from a well or a tap. But Jesus is speaking about something deeper.
He is speaking about the life of God.
Every human being is thirsty in some way. We all look for happiness. We look for love. We want peace in our hearts. Nothing in the world can fully satisfy that thirst.
Only God can.
Jesus is the one who gives that living water. He fills the deepest thirst of the human heart.
And that is where the Eucharist comes in.
Soon many of you will receive your First Holy Communion. On that day you will receive Jesus himself in the Eucharist. He gives himself to us as the Bread of Life.
Just as water gives life to our bodies, the Eucharist gives life to our souls.
Our theme today says something very important. It says: ‘We share the Bread of Life.’
That means the Eucharist is never something we keep only for ourselves.
When we receive Jesus, he fills our hearts with his life and his love. And then he sends us out to share that love with others.
Think again about the woman in the Gospel. After she meets Jesus, she goes back to her town and tells everyone about him. Because of her, many people come to meet Jesus themselves.
She shared what she had discovered.
That is what you are invited to do as well.
You share the Bread of Life when you are kind at home.
You share it when you help someone in school.
You share it when you forgive.
You share it when you include someone who is left out.
In this way the love of Jesus continues to spread from person to person.
A great Spanish saint, Teresa of Avila, once wrote a beautiful poem about this. She explained that after Jesus returned to heaven, he continues his work in the world through us. She wrote:
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
So when you receive Jesus in Holy Communion, something very beautiful happens. Jesus comes to live in you, and through you his love reaches other people.
Today Jesus is still speaking to us, just as he spoke to the woman at the well. He says to each of us:
‘Come to me. I will give you the living water.’
And very soon, dear children, he will also give you the Bread of Life.
4th March 2026
Today in the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples something very important. He explains that he is going to Jerusalem, where he will suffer and die. The disciples do not fully understand what he means. They are still thinking about power, importance, and who will be the greatest.
Then something surprising happens. The mother of James and John comes to Jesus with a request. She asks if her two sons can have the best places in his kingdom, one on his right and one on his left.
In other words, she is asking: ‘Can my sons be the most important?’
The other disciples become annoyed. They also want to be important. They are all thinking about status, about who will be first.
So Jesus gathers them and teaches them something completely different. He says: ‘Anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant.’
That is a strange idea for the world. Usually people think that being great means having power, being rich, being famous, or being the boss. But Jesus says that true greatness is something else.
True greatness means serving others.
Then Jesus gives the greatest example. He says: ‘The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.’
Jesus himself came to serve.
This is very important for you as you prepare for Confirmation.
Confirmation is not about becoming more important or powerful in the Church. It is about becoming better and stronger disciples of Jesus. In Confirmation the Holy Spirit strengthens you so that you can live like Christ and serve others as he did.
Think about the saints whose names some of you may choose for your Confirmation. They became great in God’s eyes because they served. Some cared for the poor. Some protected the weak. Some shared the faith with others. Some gave their lives for Christ.
They followed the way of Jesus.
You can live that same way in simple, everyday ways.
You serve when you help at home without being asked.
You serve when you include someone at school who is left out.
You serve when you stand up for what is right.
You serve when you pray for others.
These may seem like small things, but in God’s eyes they are very important.
The world often says, ‘Be the best’.
Jesus says, ‘Be ready to serve’.
The world says, ‘Think about yourself’.
Jesus says, ‘Think about others’.
The Holy Spirit, whom you will receive in Confirmation, helps you to live that way. The Spirit gives courage, wisdom, and love so that you can follow Jesus even when it is not easy.
So today Jesus asks each one of us a simple question:
Are you ready to follow him in the way of service?
If you are, then you are already on the path to the kind of greatness that truly matters in the kingdom of God.
1st March 2026
On this Second Sunday of Lent the Church leads us up a high mountain with Peter, James and John. The Gospel tells us that Jesus ‘was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light’. For a brief moment the veil is lifted. The disciples see what is usually hidden. They see his glory.
Yet Jesus does not stand alone. Moses and Elijah appear beside him. They speak with him. They stand in his light.
Why are they there?
Moses represents the Law and Elijah the Prophets. Everything God had spoken and promised in the Old Covenant finds its fulfilment in Christ. But there is more. St Luke tells us in his Gospel that Moses and Elijah appear in glory. They are alive. They are radiant. They share in the light of Christ.
They are, in a real sense, the first shown examples of the saints in glory. The Transfiguration is not only about who Jesus is. It also reveals what human beings are called to become when they remain faithful to God. What shines in Christ by nature begins to shine in them by grace.
This matters for us in Lent.
Lent began with ashes placed upon our heads and the words, ‘Repent, and believe in the Gospel’. Ashes remind us that we are dust. The Transfiguration reminds us that we are called to glory. Lent holds these two truths together. We face honestly our sin, our weakness and our mortality, yet we do so with hope. God does not intend us for dust. He intends us for light.
Moses had known struggle. He led a stubborn people through the desert. Elijah knew fear, discouragement and persecution. Neither walked an easy road. Yet they remained faithful, and now they stand in glory with Christ. That is our calling as well.
Notice what happens next. A bright cloud overshadows them and a voice says, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him’. The Father turns the disciples away from building tents and away from trying to hold on to the experience. He directs them to obedience: listen to him.
Lent is a time for listening. It is a time for deeper prayer, penance and a return to the Word of God. If we listen to Christ and follow him on the path that passes through the cross, we will share in his glory.
The Transfiguration comes just after Jesus speaks about his coming suffering and tells his disciples that they too must take up their cross. The glory on the mountain does not remove the cross. It shows where the cross leads.
Moses and Elijah stand as witnesses that faithfulness bears fruit. They lived as servants of God. They struggled, obeyed, suffered and persevered. Now they stand in heaven as sharers in his glory. They show us what becomes of those who persevere.
We began this Lenten season marked with ashes. If we remain faithful on the journey, if we listen to God’s beloved Son, then one day, by his mercy, we too shall share in the light of Christ that shone on that mountain.
The Transfiguration is a promise. God is not finished with us. True repentance, through prayer, fasting and works of love and mercy, is not without purpose. It is the road that leads to glory on God’s holy mountain.
22nd February 2026
The Gospel for the First Sunday of Lent always leads us into the desert. After his baptism in the Jordan, Jesus does not begin immediately with his public ministry. He goes into solitude. He fasts for forty days and forty nights. He prays. And there, in that place of hunger, silence, and exposure, he is tempted.
The Gospel tells us that Jesus was famished. This detail is not accidental. Temptations often strike when we are weak. They come when we are tired, lonely, disappointed, anxious, or physically exhausted. The devil does not usually tempt us with something obviously evil at the beginning. He begins with something that appears to be reasonable and good.
The first temptation is simple: ‘If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to turn into bread.’ Jesus is very hungry. Bread in itself is good. Eating is good. There is nothing sinful about satisfying one’s need to eat. The temptation lies elsewhere. It is the suggestion that he should use his power for himself, to relieve his own discomfort, to put bodily need before obedience to the Father, in short, to be disobedient and selfish. It is also a subtle challenge to his identity: ‘If you are the Son of God…’ Prove it. Act independently. Provide for yourself.
Jesus answers with words from Deuteronomy: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ He does not deny the importance of bread. He places it in the right order. Physical health and wellness matter, but communion with the Father matters more. Christ chooses trust. He chooses obedience over immediate relief.
The second temptation takes place at the Temple. The devil quotes Scripture and says, ‘Throw yourself down, for it is written: He will command his angels concerning you.’ This temptation is more subtle than the first one. It is the temptation to force God’s hand. It is the temptation to demand visible proof of God’s presence and protection. It is the whisper that says: If God truly loves you, he must act according to your expectations.
How often does this echo in our own hearts. When we encounter evil, loss, grief, or suffering, we can begin to think: If God is good, why does he not intervene the way I want. The temptation in this case is to turn faith into control, to test God rather than trust him. Jesus replies again with Scripture: ‘You must not put the Lord your God to the test.’ True faith does not manipulate God. It entrusts itself to him, even when there is no dramatic sign from heaven or immediate divine intervention.
The third temptation is the most powerful and direct. The devil shows Jesus the kingdoms of the world and their splendour and says, ‘All this I will give you, if you fall down and worship me.’ Here the temptation concerns power, glory, and success. Jesus has come to establish the Kingdom of God. The devil offers him a shortcut. He offers influence without suffering, a crown without thorns, dominion without the cross, kingship without submission to God.
This is a profound temptation. It suggests that good ends can be achieved by compromising allegiance to God. It suggests that one act of disloyalty or disobedience can be justified by future success. Jesus responds with decisive clarity: ‘You must worship the Lord your God, and serve him alone.’ He refuses to bend the knee. He refuses a kingdom built on anything other than fidelity to the Father. In doing so, Jesus accepts the long road that leads to Calvary.
These temptations were real. It would be a mistake to imagine that, because Jesus is the Son of God, this was effortless. The Letter to the Hebrews teaches that Christ was tempted in every way as we are, yet remained without sin. Temptation does not require a sinful heart. It requires a real human will and real human vulnerability. Jesus truly experienced hunger. He truly faced the attraction of safety and visible success. He truly felt the weight of choice. What distinguishes him is not the absence of struggle but the perfection of his obedience. Notice how the Lord resists. He answers with the Word of God. Scripture is not something external to him. It lives within him. It shapes his thinking.
This brings us to our own lives, especially during Lent. How are we to deal with temptation in practice?
First, we recognise it. Many temptations begin by attacking identity or trust. ‘You are alone.’ ‘God does not care.’ ‘This will make you happy.’ Once we see the lie clearly, it loses much of its power. Naming a temptation for what it is brings light into darkness.
Second, we answer with truth. We may not have long passages of Scripture memorised, but we can carry short phrases in our hearts. ‘Lord, have mercy.’ ‘Jesus, I trust in you.’ ‘The Lord is my shepherd.’ Repeating a simple prayer can interrupt the inner dialogue that temptation tries to start. Truth displaces falsehood.
Third, we refuse prolonged conversation. Temptation often grows because we continue to analyse it, justify it, or imagine it. Christ did not enter into endless debate. After the third temptation he said, ‘Be off.’ There is wisdom in turning physically to another activity, such as taking a walk, changing posture, or engaging the mind elsewhere. The body and soul are united. Movement can support resistance.
Fourth, we remain close to the means of grace. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are not arbitrary religious exercises. Fasting teaches our body that it is not master. Prayer anchors our heart in God. Almsgiving frees us from selfishness. Regular confession shapes and strengthens our conscience, and restores clarity and humility. These practices do not eliminate temptation, but they strengthen the will and purify desire.
Lent, therefore, is a training ground. We are not trying to demonstrate our strength. We are learning childlike dependence on our Father in heaven. The desert reveals that human life is sustained by more than bread. It reveals that trust is deeper than visible security. It reveals that worship belongs to God alone.
The Gospel ends with a calm and quiet scene. After the devil leaves, angels minister to Jesus. The struggle is real, but so is divine consolation. God does not abandon his Son in the desert, and he does not abandon us in our battles.
The Christian life is not the absence of temptation. It is fidelity within temptation. We are invited to stand with Christ, to place the Word of God on our lips, to trust the Father, and to remain faithful to the Gospel.
If we walk this path during Lent, then the desert will not be a place of defeat. It will become a place of purification. And the One who strengthened Jesus will strengthen us, so that, when Easter comes, we may rejoice not only in his victory, but in the grace he has given us to share in it.
Ash Wednesday – 18th February 2026
Today, we enter into the season of Lent. The ashes placed on our foreheads remind us that life is short, eternity is forever, and that our hearts always need turning back to God. Lent gives us an intense training period for our life in Christ, following his word and example. It is a calm and steady time in which we strengthen our spiritual muscles so that our lives reflect the goodness God hopes to see in us.
When people train to become athletes, they do not begin with the heaviest weights or longest distances. They begin with small and regular steps, repeated until physical strength and stamina grow. Lent invites us to do the same. Prayer, fasting and works of mercy are the simple exercises that shape our Christian life. They may seem ordinary, yet they are often neglected and they build a strength that carries us through the demands of daily life.
Prayer strengthens our attention to God. It helps us slow down, listen and recognise his holy and loving presence in the middle of everyday noise and hurry. A few quiet minutes each day open space in which God can speak to our hearts. Fasting strengthens our human freedom. It teaches us that we are not ruled by our appetites or desires and that our deepest hunger is for God. When we let go of small treats or comforts, we make room for grace to grow in our souls. Works of mercy, like almsgiving and other good deeds, strengthen our compassion. They move our gaze away from ourselves and towards others and help us notice those who carry heavy burdens. Small acts of kindness on a daily basis train the human heart to be generous and steady.
Spiritual growth takes time. No one becomes holy in a single day. Lent is not a test to see who succeeds or fails. It is a season in which God works with us as we are. Some days we will feel strong. Other days we will struggle. What matters is the direction of the heart. God welcomes every honest effort. He blesses even the small steps that no one else sees.
Many people find it helpful to choose simple tasks and challenges for Lent, practical exercises that support this spiritual training period. A few examples are:
• Set aside a fixed time for prayer each day, even five quiet minutes in the morning, before lunch or before going to bed.
• Read a short passage of Scripture daily, allowing one line to stay with you through the day.
• Give up a small comfort, such as unnecessary snacking in the evening or watching screens at certain times, to create space for reflection.
• Choose one person each day to pray for by name, someone whom you feel is in need of prayer.
• Practise a work of mercy once a week, such as visiting someone who is lonely or offering practical help to an elderly neighbour.
• Limit negative speech, gossip, judgement or impatience, and replace it with a deliberate act of goodness and kindness.
• Set aside the money you save through abstinence and fasting and donate it to someone in need.
These challenges are simple exercises that stretch the heart and train us in constant and steady love. Each one becomes a special way of saying yes to God, to Christ and to our neighbour.
As we receive the ashes today, we receive a sign on our foreheads that reminds us that we belong to Christ and that he never tires of calling us back. Lent becomes a journey in which the Lord walks beside us. He uses every sincere effort to draw us closer to him. May the coming weeks help us grow strong in faith, gentle in compassion and ready to share his love with the world in the light of the dawning Easter.
Advent and Christmas
From the first Sunday of Advent to the Feast of the Presentation (Candlemas)
11th January 2026
As we celebrate the Solemnity of the Baptism of the Lord, we come to the final day of the Christmas season. Today’s Gospel takes us from the joy of the manger to the banks of the Jordan, where Jesus begins his public ministry by being baptised by John. This moment reveals who Jesus is and invites us to reflect on the meaning of our own baptism and the life of discipleship to which it calls us.
The baptism of Jesus might seem puzzling at first. John’s baptism was one of repentance, yet Jesus was sinless. Why, then, did he come to be baptised? The answer lies in the humility and mission of Christ. By entering the waters of the Jordan, Jesus identifies himself with us, sinful humanity in need of redemption. He does not stand apart from us but steps fully into our human condition. In baptism, water represents both cleansing and death. It can purify, but it can also destroy. By stepping into the waters, Jesus symbolically enters a cold grave, accepting the death that sin brings into the world, and rises from it, pointing us towards the new life he offers to all who follow him through the waters of baptism. This moment foreshadows the cross, where he would bear the burden of sin and, through his death and resurrection, open the way to salvation. Christ’s baptism therefore marks the beginning of his public ministry and points towards his ultimate mission on Calvary, where he fully embraced the burden of our sins to bring us new life.
The feast of the Baptism of the Lord also gives us a welcome opportunity to reflect on the significance of Christ’s life and ministry, and not only on his birth, death, and resurrection. The two creeds we use at our Sunday Masses highlight the key events of salvation history, the Lord’s incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection, but they leave much of his earthly life unspoken. Some theologians see this as problematic because it can give the impression that Jesus was born simply to die as a sacrifice, with the years in between appearing less important. Yet those years matter deeply.
The hidden years in Nazareth, where Jesus lived and worked as a carpenter, sanctify the ordinary and show us that holiness can be found in everyday life. His public ministry, filled with teaching, healing, and acts of mercy, reveals God’s love and compassion for all people. These moments between his birth and death teach us by example how to live as children of God. They show us that our lives, in all their simplicity and complexity, are precious in God’s eyes.
By reflecting on his entire life, we discover a God who walks with us, teaching us not only how to die, but how to live. To help address this gap in our spiritual reflection, Pope St John Paul II introduced the Luminous Mysteries of the Holy Rosary, beginning with the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan. These mysteries encourage us to meditate on Christ’s ministry and to reflect on the meaning of his teaching, miracles, and example of holy living. They remind us that every aspect of his life carries meaning for us as we seek to follow him.
Our own baptism connects us to this reality. When we were baptised, we were united with Christ in his death and resurrection. The waters of baptism washed away our sins and made us children of God, anointed with the Holy Spirit and incorporated into the Church. In that moment, God said to each of us what he said to Jesus: ‘You are my beloved son; you are my beloved daughter.’ This is our deepest identity, beloved children of God. Baptism, however, is not only a moment in the past. It is the beginning of a lifelong journey of faith.
Baptism calls us to a life of discipleship. It reminds us that we are called to imitate Christ, not only in his death but in his life. We are called to live with humility, compassion, and love, to serve others as he did, and to bring the light of God’s presence into the world. Baptism is our commissioning, just as Jesus’ baptism marked the beginning of his public mission. Through our baptism, we share in Christ’s mission to bring healing, hope, and salvation to those around us.
As we conclude the Christmas season today, let us remember that the story of Jesus’ birth is only the beginning. His life matters, and so does ours. Just as Jesus sanctified the ordinary, our ordinary lives can become holy when lived in union with him. Let us renew our commitment to live out our baptismal promises and to follow Christ more faithfully each day.
May we leave this celebration inspired to live as God’s beloved children, bringing his light to the world. Let us rejoice in the gift of our baptism and allow it to shape the way we live, love, and serve. And may we, like Christ, be filled with the Holy Spirit, strengthened to share God’s love and proclaim his Kingdom to all.
Amen.
9th January 2026
Today’s Gospel tells the well-known story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. At first, it might seem like an unusual choice for the Christmas season, but it fits beautifully with this week’s theme of Epiphany and our response to the gift of Christ. In this miracle, Jesus reveals himself as the good shepherd who provides for his people, both spiritually and physically. It also points forward to the Eucharist, where he offers himself as the bread of life, nourishing us in the deepest way.
Mark tells us that when Jesus saw the crowd, he ‘felt compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd’. His first response was to teach them at some length, feeding their hearts and minds with the word of God. Then, as their physical hunger became clear, he provided food for them. Mark even notes that the people sat on the ‘green grass’, echoing Psalm 23, where the Lord, the good shepherd, leads his flock to rest in green pastures. This small detail reminds us that Jesus is the true shepherd who cares for his people, meeting their needs with love and abundance.
This miracle of provision also reveals who Jesus truly is. Just as the Magi recognised him as the King of kings, and the shepherds in Bethlehem acknowledged him as the shepherd king in the line of David, the crowd begins to realise that he is no ordinary teacher or prophet. By feeding so many with so little, Jesus shows his divine power and identity as the Son of God. His actions of taking, blessing, breaking, and sharing bread meet the crowd’s immediate needs and point forward to the Last Supper, where he offers himself completely, body and soul, under the appearance of bread and wine. In the Christmas season, we celebrate God’s love made visible in the child in the manger. In today’s Gospel, we see that same love at work, overflowing and transforming lives.
This story also invites us to reflect on our own response. When the disciples point out the hunger of the crowd, Jesus challenges them, ‘Give them something to eat yourselves’. Overwhelmed by the size of the task, they focus on what they lack. Jesus, however, takes their small offering, five loaves of bread and two fish, and multiplies it, providing more than enough for everyone. This teaches us that God does not ask us to solve every problem on our own. He asks us to bring what we have, however small, and to trust him to make it enough.
We often feel that what we can offer is too little. Perhaps we feel short on time, energy, or resources. Jesus shows us that even the smallest gifts, offered with love, trust, and generosity, can be transformed into great blessings. During the Christmas season, we celebrate God’s gift to us in Jesus, a gift meant to be shared. Jesus invites us to take part in his mission by offering his love and care to others, confident that he will work through our efforts.
Today’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus, the good shepherd, is present among us, caring for us and calling us to trust in his love. He invites us to share in his mission, feeding a world that remains hungry for hope, love, and meaning. As we come to the Eucharist today, may Christ, the bread of life who came to us in the manger, strengthen us and inspire us to share his love with others. Even the smallest gift, placed in his hands, can become an abundant blessing for all.
7th January 2026
In these days after the Epiphany the Church invites us to stay with the theme of revelation. Yesterday we looked at the wise men who came from faraway lands in the East. They saw a heavenly sign in the sky and followed it to Bethlehem. They stood before the child in the manger and recognised the one who had come to save all peoples. Their journey showed that Christ is not given to one group alone. He is sent to be the light for the whole world.
Today’s Gospel shows us what happens when this light begins to shine in a new way at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. Matthew tells us that Jesus leaves Nazareth, his hometown, and goes to live in Capernaum, a place on the edge of the Sea of Galilee. It is an ordinary town where people work hard to make ends meet. Yet Matthew reminds us that this simple place had been spoken about long before by the prophet Isaiah. He said that the people who sat in darkness would see a great light. With the arrival of Jesus, the words of the prophet become real. The light of God stands among them in Jesus of Nazareth.
When Jesus begins his public ministry the message to his people is very clear. He says, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand’. These are simple and meaningful words. They tell us that God draws near and that our hearts need to make room for him. The call to repentance is not meant to frighten us. It is an invitation to an honest turning of the heart towards God. Repentance is the courage to admit where our lives have drifted and the trust to believe that grace will help us to begin again.
Matthew then shows us what this new beginning looks like. Jesus goes through the towns and villages. He teaches, he proclaims the Good News, and he heals. He does not stay apart from his people like a distant ruler in a palace. Christ goes to them in their need. He restores what is broken with divine mercy. He shows the compassion of God. Crowds come from every direction because they recognise that his presence brings hope and restoration.
We stand now between the feast of the Epiphany and the feast of the Baptism of the Lord next Sunday. These days form a bridge. They help us to see how the child revealed to the nations becomes the teacher who walks among his people. The light that shone over Bethlehem now shines over Galilee. It also shines over us as we live our Christian lives in the challenges of each day.
As we move through these days after the Epiphany, towards the end of the Christmas season and back to Ordinary Time in the liturgical year, it may help to ask one simple question. Where do I need the light of Christ to shine in my life? There may be places of darkness, confusion, worry, or habit. There may be relationships that need forgiveness and healing. There may be tiredness of heart or a loss of direction in our attempts to follow the Gospel. Christ comes for each of these situations to bring guidance and salvation. The Lord asks us to turn towards him so that his light and his truth can reach us.
Let us welcome his call to repentance with trust. Let us turn again towards the one who restores mind and body in our human weakness. In this time between Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord may we see more clearly the light that has come into the world, a light that shines in the darkness, a light to enlighten all people. May we walk in that light with faith, hope, and charity and may our lives reflect it for others.
6th January 2026 – Epiphany
Today the Church celebrates the Epiphany, the revelation of Christ to the nations. Wise men from the East follow a star and come to worship the child who has been born. They represent all peoples, all seekers, all those who are drawn by God’s light. There is one detail in the Gospel that deserves our attention. Before the Magi reach Bethlehem, they go to Jerusalem. They enter the palace of King Herod. This is not a mistake in the story. God knows who Herod is. God knows the fear and violence in his heart. Yet the Magi are led there all the same. This tells us something important about how God works. God does not only guide those who are faithful and have a pure heart. God also reaches out to those who are lost, even those who have done great harm. The journey of the Magi is not only towards Bethlehem, towards the manger. It is also a gentle invitation to Herod. God places the truth before him and gives him a chance to respond. From the very beginning of his life, Christ is already doing what he has come to do. He seeks out the lost. The Lords offers light to those in darkness. He does not wait until later in his life to show mercy. From the first days of his earthly life, he draws near to sinners and calls them to turn back. The tragedy in today’s Gospel is not that Herod is invited. The tragedy is that he refuses the invitation. The Magi leave their homes, their comforts, and their status. They kneel before a little child. Herod, by contrast, clings to his throne. He hears the good news, but he cannot let go of his power, his fear, and his pride. This Gospel asks us a simple and serious question. Where do we stand in the story? Are we willing to rise and set out like the Magi, or do we remain seated on our little thrones of fear and pride like Herod? Christ cannot be worshipped from a throne. He is found by those who are willing to kneel. The Epiphany brings us great hope. No one is excluded from God’s invitation. Even those who feel far from God, even those who carry guilt or shame, are called to the manger. God’s mercy can reach anyone. But it also asks something of us. We must be willing to change. We must be willing to step down, to trust, and to adore. Today we ask for the grace to follow the star where it leads, to recognise Christ when he is revealed, and to offer him the only gift he truly seeks, a humble and open heart.
3rd January 2026
Today’s Gospel, known as the Prologue of John, helps us reflect on the deeper meaning of Christmas: ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us’. It reminds us that Christmas is more than just a nice story about a baby in a manger with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the Wise Men, as we see in our nativity scenes. It is about the eternal God entering our world to save us. This is the heart of Christmas. The Creator of the universe has come close to us to bring light, life, and hope, to drive out darkness, and to make us children of God.
St John begins his Gospel with the words, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God’. This echoes the first line of Genesis: ‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth’. John teaches that Jesus, the Word, has existed from all eternity with God. He is not simply part of the Christmas story as an ordinary human being. He is the eternal Son, through whom all creation came into being. The child born in Bethlehem is the Creator of the universe. This is a consoling truth. The one who made and sustains all things chose to enter our world, out of love, to save us.
John continues with the profound statement, ‘The Word became flesh’. This is the mystery of Christmas, God taking on our humanity. Jesus came as one of us, not as a distant ruler. He embraced the full experience of human life. He knew joy and sorrow, hunger and tiredness, rejection and pain. Through the Incarnation, God is no longer distant. He is near, walking with us in every moment, sharing our burdens, and offering his strength. This changes how we understand God, not as a distant observer but as a loving presence in our lives.
John describes Jesus as ‘the light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it’. This light is Christ himself. He brings clarity, direction, and hope in a world that often feels confused or divided. His light teaches us how to live with love, forgiveness, and truth. No matter how dark our circumstances seem, the light of Christ continues to shine and guides us through every difficulty.
John also speaks about the way people respond to Christ: ‘He came to his own, and his own people did not accept him’. Many rejected Jesus when he came into the world, and the same happens today. Some neglect prayer or fail to make space for him in their lives. Others push him aside and give greater weight to sports events, shopping, or other distractions instead of the Sunday Eucharist. Some dismiss the Gospel as irrelevant or uninteresting. Yet John gives us a great promise: ‘To all who did accept him, who believed in his name, he gave the power to become children of God’.
This identity shapes how we live and how we see others. Living as God’s children means allowing Christ’s light to shine through us in our daily choices. It takes shape when we choose kindness over selfishness, forgiveness over resentment, and love over indifference.
As we continue through the Christmas season, let us hold on to these truths. Let us marvel at God’s humility in becoming one of us. Let us draw comfort from the knowledge that Jesus understands our struggles and walks with us. And let us live as children of God, sharing his light in a world that needs it. Amen.
2nd January 2026 – Feast of St Basil the Great
Today we celebrate the feast of St Basil the Great, a remarkable figure of holiness, wisdom, and charity in the early Church. Born into a family of saints, Basil used every gift he had, his intellect, his wealth, and his influence, for the glory of God and the good of others. His life is a strong example of faith in action, and it challenges us to live our Christian calling with purpose and generosity.
Basil understood that true faith cannot be passive. He once said, ‘The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat in your wardrobe belongs to the naked’. These words show his conviction that the Gospel calls us to active love for our neighbour. Basil did not preach charity without living it. As Bishop of Caesarea, he helped to establish what some regard as the first organised Christian hospital, a place of care for the sick, the poor, and travellers. His life reminds us that our faith should make a difference in the world, starting with how we treat those in need.
Basil was also a defender of truth in a time of confusion and division. The Church then was wrestling with the Arian heresy, an error which denied the divinity of Christ. Basil stood firm and used his learning to uphold the truth of the Trinity. He knew that to compromise on the truth about God would weaken the foundation of our faith. There is an episode from his life which shows his character with great clarity.
The Roman emperor Valens wished to impose Arianism across Asia Minor and punished any bishop who resisted. He sent his prefect, Modestus, to Cappadocia to threaten Basil with the loss of his property, exile, beatings, and even death. Basil was unmoved. He answered: ‘If you take away my possessions, you will not enrich yourself, nor will you make me a pauper. You have no need of my old, worn-out clothing, nor of my few books, which are the entirety of my wealth. Exile means nothing to me, since I am bound to no particular place. This place where I now dwell is not mine, and any place you send me shall be mine. Better to say, every place is God’s. Where would I be neither a stranger nor a sojourner? Who can torture me? I am so weak that the very first blow would render me insensible. Death would be a kindness to me, for it will bring me all the sooner to God, for whom I live and labour, and to whom I hasten’. Modestus, taken aback, said, ‘No one has ever spoken so boldly to me’, to which Basil answered, ‘Perhaps that is because you have never spoken to a bishop before’.
Basil’s courage in defending the faith encourages us to stand firm in what we believe, even when it is difficult. It invites us to deepen our understanding so that we can share our faith with clarity and love.
Although he was a great bishop and theologian, Basil remained a humble man of prayer. In his teachings he set out a life that holds together work, study, and contemplation. He saw that our actions must grow from a living relationship with God. Without prayer, our efforts can become empty and lose the grace that makes them fruitful. Basil teaches us that the closer we are to God, the more able we are to bring his love to the world.
As we reflect on his life, we can ask ourselves how his example might guide us. It may mean being more alert to the needs of those around us. It may mean learning more about our faith so that we can defend it with confidence. It may also mean giving more space to prayer and remembering that every good work begins with God.
St Basil the Great lived in challenging times, much like our own. His life shows that holiness is possible when we trust in God and give ourselves to his service. Let us ask for his intercession today, that we may be courageous in defending the truth, generous in loving our neighbour, and faithful in prayer. May his example lead us to live the Gospel with the zeal and love that made him a saint.
St Basil the Great, pray for us.
1st January 2026
At the beginning of a new year, the Church invites us to pause and to begin again with God. A new year feels like a fresh page. We sense both hope and uncertainty. We do not know what this year will bring. There will be joys and blessings, but there may also be worries, illness, loss, or disappointment. That is why the Church places this day firmly in the hands of God and asks us to begin the year in childlike trust rather than fear.
Today’s feast reminds us that a new year is not only marked by the turning of the calendar. It is marked by something much deeper. Eight days after his birth, the child Jesus is circumcised and receives his name. This moment in the life of a little Jewish boy may seem small or even strange to us, but it is full of meaning. By receiving circumcision, Jesus fully enters the history and faith of his people. He is not distant from us. He is not above the human condition. From the very beginning of his life, he accepts the law, the promises, and the responsibilities that shape ordinary human life.
This tells us something important for the year ahead. God does not usually work through dramatic events or sudden escapes from difficulty. He works through faithfulness, patience, and humble obedience. The circumcision of Jesus shows us that salvation begins in small, hidden acts of faith and trust. A new year does not require grand plans or heroic resolutions. It begins with simple faithfulness to God in our daily life.
The naming of Jesus on this day is also important. His name means ‘God saves’. This is not just a name or title. It is a promise. Whatever this year brings, God remains the one who saves, heals, and restores. We may not see the full picture. We may not understand why certain things happen. Yet the name of Jesus assures us that God’s desire is always life, mercy, and hope.
On this day, the Church also honours Mary as the Mother of God. She stands at the beginning of the year as she stood at the beginning of Jesus’ life. Mary does not speak many words in the Gospel. She listens, she reflects, and she keeps things in her heart. She teaches us how to face the unknown. Mary did not have a clear map of the future. She did not know every joy and sorrow that lay ahead. Yet she trusted that God was at work in her life, even when she did not fully understand.
As we step into a new year, we are invited to do the same. Many of us carry concerns into this year. Some worry about family members. Some worry about health, work, financial matters, or the future of the world. Some carry grief, pain, and loss from the year that has just ended. Today we are reminded that whatever may happen, we do not walk into the future alone. Like Mary, we are called to place our lives into God’s hands and to trust that he remains faithful.
Today we also entrust ourselves to the intercession of all the saints. They remind us that holiness is lived in real life, with all its struggles and imperfections. The saints faced uncertainty, fear, and suffering, just as we do. They trusted God one step at a time. Their lives tell us that faithfulness in small things shapes a future filled with grace.
So as this new year begins, the Church does not ask us to be fearless or perfect. She asks us to be open, trusting, and willing to walk with God day by day. We begin the year by placing ourselves under the loving care of Mary, by calling on the help of the saints, and by fixing our eyes on Jesus, whose very name reminds us that God saves.
May this year be a year of deeper trust, calm and quiet perseverance, and renewed faith and hope. May we learn to recognise God at work in the ordinary moments of our lives. And may the Lord bless this year ahead, guiding us in peace and keeping us close to him, today and always. Amen.
Feasts of the Saints
St Thomas Aquinas – 28th January 2026
Today the Church celebrates a very special saint: St Thomas Aquinas. His name might sound a bit hard to say or remember, but do not worry. What matters is his heart and his love for Jesus.
Let me start with a question.
What is your favourite subject in school? Is it maths, reading, Irish, PE, art?
St Thomas also went to school, and he loved to learn. He was very clever, but that is not what made him a saint. What made him a saint was that he used his mind and his heart to love Jesus.
When Thomas was a boy, he asked a very important question: ‘Who is God?’ He kept asking questions like that all his life. He wanted to know God better so that he could love him more. He did not ask questions or learn many difficult things to show off. He learned and asked questions so that he could help other people to understand the faith.
Some people in his school thought he was a bit slow and quiet. They even gave him a nickname. They called him ‘the dumb ox’, which means they thought he was big and a bit silly. That was unkind. But Thomas did not fight back. He stayed calm. He listened, he prayed, and he kept studying. His teacher, St Albert, saw the truth. He said that one day the whole world would listen to Thomas. And he was right. Today, people all over the world still read what Thomas Aquinas wrote about God.
There are a few things about St Thomas that can help us.
First, Thomas loved Jesus in the Eucharist.
He knew that in holy Communion it is really Jesus who comes to us. He wrote beautiful prayers to thank Jesus for this gift. When you come to Mass and see the priest hold up the host, you can remember Thomas and say in your heart, ‘My Lord and my God, I believe that you are really here.’
Second, Thomas loved to use his mind for God.
He knew that faith and reason belong together. God gave us a brain so that we can think, ask questions, and learn the truth. When you are in school and you are learning, you can make a little prayer like this: ‘Jesus, help me to learn well today.’ When you are in religion class and something is hard to understand, do not be afraid to ask questions. St Thomas would be very pleased with that.
Third, Thomas shows us that God sees the truth about us, even when others do not.
Maybe you are shy. Maybe someone in your class sometimes gets teased. St Thomas reminds us that quiet children can have very strong minds and very big hearts. God sees your gifts, even if others do not. So be kind, especially to the child who is left out, or the one who is slow to answer. Treat them as Jesus would.
So today, on the feast of St Thomas Aquinas, we can try to do three simple things:
Love Jesus in the Mass and in holy Communion.
Offer your study and your homework to God, and ask him to help you learn.
Be kind and gentle with others, and remember that God sees the good in every person.
Let us finish with a short prayer:
‘Lord Jesus,
thank you for St Thomas Aquinas.
Help us to love you with all our heart,
and to use our minds to search for the truth.
Bless our teachers and our schools.
Help us to be kind to everyone,
especially those who feel left out.
Amen.’
St Anselm of Canterbury
In our first reading today, we hear again of the martyrdom of St Stephen. A man filled with the Holy Spirit, he speaks the truth with clarity and courage, even when it costs him his life. As he dies, he entrusts himself to the Lord and asks forgiveness for those who kill him.
This is the life of faith in its fullness: to believe, to stand firm, and to trust God to the end.
Today the Church also gives us the example of St Anselm of Canterbury, a very different kind of witness, yet one that belongs to the same faith in Jesus Christ.
Anselm did not die as a martyr like Stephen. His witness was quieter, yet no less important. He lived as a monk, a teacher, and later as Archbishop of Canterbury. His life, too, was marked by struggle, opposition, and fidelity to the truth.
St Anselm lived at a time when kings tried to control the Church. He faced immense pressure from rulers such as William II of England and Henry I of England, and he was sent into exile more than once. Yet, Anselm remained steady. He did not bend the truth to make life easier. He held fast to what he knew to be right.
Like Stephen, he stood before power without fear. What makes Anselm especially important for us is the way he understood the Christian faith. He once described his whole life in a simple phrase: faith seeking understanding. Anselm believed deeply, he prayed, and then he asked questions. He sought to explore and deeply understand what he believed.
That is something we need today. Many people think that faith means switching off the mind. Others feel that faith cannot stand up to questioning or critical thinking, and so they drift away.
Anselm shows us another way through his life and example. He teaches us that faith and reason belong together, and that it is good to ask, to seek, and to reflect. He reminds us that thinking about God is part of loving God, as the Psalmist says: ‘On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night’ (Psalm 63:6).
At the same time, he makes it clear that thinking alone is not enough. Anselm was a man of prayer. His theology did not begin with books or arguments. It began on his knees, in silence before God, where faith is received, deepened, and made firm.
This is where his example meets the witness of Stephen. In the end, faith is about understanding, yet it is also about love and trust. Anselm entrusted his life to Christ through prayer and obedience, just as Stephen did. Different paths, the same faith.
There is one more point.
Anselm reflected deeply on the mystery of the Incarnation and on the question of why Christ became man. He saw with great clarity that sin is not something small or passing. It wounds our relationship with God in a real and lasting way, and it is a wound we cannot heal by our own strength. We stand in need of a Saviour.
This is precisely what we are celebrating in this Easter season. Christ is risen. Through his life, his death, and his resurrection, he has done for us what we could never do for ourselves. He has entered into our broken condition, restored what was lost, and brought salvation into the world.
So what does St Anselm say to us today?
He invites us to take our faith seriously, to treat it as something living and worth our full attention. He encourages us to ask questions without fear and to seek a deeper understanding of what we believe. He calls us to remain close to God in prayer, because it is there that faith grows and is sustained. He shows us how to remain steady when faith is tested, holding firm with quiet strength.
Above all, St Anselm points us to Christ, who has given his life for us and who now lives, and in whom we are invited to place our trust.
