OF YOU MY HEART HAS SPOKEN

  "You need to wear a polo neck" said the cashier at the supermarket checkout.  I wasn't sure that I heard her right and said, "pardon?"  "You need to wear a polo neck" she repeated. "Why do I need to wear a polo neck? I asked. "You need to hide this" she said, pointing to my clerical collar. "I don't need to hide it." I said.   Then she asked me if I had the app for the supermarket on my phone and I asked what the advantage of it would be, but I was too distracted by her comment to understand what she was saying now.   She was calm. I was calm. There was no hint of aggression in her tone and I took no offence, thinking that she might even be protective towards me, warning me that it could attract negative attention. Which it might, of course, and with good reason.   But it felt surreal and the phrase that stuck in me was, “you need to hide.” It would be easier to hide at times. But it's not the best thing. And I wear m...

  Naomh Éanna's chapel “…proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.” (2 Timothy 4) +++ The Gospel given for this St. Patrick’s Day Mass was somewhat surprising – the parable of the darnel in Matthew chapter 13. And yet appropriate because it is true. The Master planted good seed in his field, only to have his enemy come along in the secret dark of night to plant darnel alongside the wheat. Both crops grow up together. They are very alike, so that it’s difficult to distinguish one from the other and, what’s more, the darnel hooks itself onto the root of the wheat so that separation is quite tricky. That’s why the Master doesn’t want the darnel uprooted before harvest time, because the wheat, the good could be uprooted with the bad. It’s clear that the enemy of God has planted darnel in the good field of His people. It has happened in the Church and in ...

May the Lord, who formed you in love, bless you with joy for the care you have given, patience for the days that feel long, and peace for the moments that weigh heavy. May Mary, Mother of God, wrap you in her gentle mantle, guiding your heart with faith and tenderness. May the Holy Spirit strengthen you,  filling your home with grace, your hands with kindness, and your life with the light of Christ. And may Almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son ✝, and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen

  During the Sahara Desert retreat six years ago, we walked for about seven hours every day for a week. There were three breaks during the course of a day and the toughest part was in the afternoon when the heat was at it's height and we were feeling pretty tired.  One afternoon we came upon a well out in the middle of nowhere. A well with a pump from which we drank of its abundance, soaking our cheich's (Moraccan headscarf) in it. My scarf was a middle-eastern kufiya, given me by Chris, a parishioner who had served in the Iraq war.  I remember placing my saturated, dripping kufiya on my head. The cool wetness of it. The sheer relief of it, until it dried out all too quickly. But in the moment it was pure bliss, not only physically, but it seemed that through the physical touch of water God was reaching into the weariness and deepest thirst of my soul. Reaching in, speaking to my inner reality, ministering to it and somehow releasing me. So, I feel for Jesus in the Gospel...

  The loveliness of Spring peeping though the grey wetness of a long dark Winter. Light is brighter, lengthier and life is pushing itself upwards from the cold earth. Branches bulging with buds that signify hope, new possibilities. Our souls too are looking upwards, our hearts more open to the immense love that God is constantly expressing, often in a language, in gestures that we do not quite understand. Or believe. This is my Son, the Beloved, He says of Jesus. You are my Beloved Son, He has said directly to Him. And what Jesus experiences is also meant for each one of us, without exception. You are my Beloved daughter. You are my Beloved son. To understand what God the Father is actually feeling we need only look at our own experiences of loving. What a mother and father feel for their child is what God feels for you, only His feeling of love is infinitely more intense than ours, if you can imagine anything more intense. Not being a biological father, I have nonetheless ...

  On Friday, my sister Evelyn and I flew to Birmingham for the funeral of our cousin Sharon. It was an emotional, blessed and even a joyful day of family coming together on one of those rare occasions; the awareness within us that, though we hardly ever meet, we are strongly connected by blood with a genuine love shared among us.  It was a long day that found us at the airport for the return flight that was delayed by about an hour. Delays are normal and fine enough but it’s what the airline does with the delay. And it wasn’t Ryanair just in case people might wrongly put the blame there.  It’s what they do. They pretend that they are boarding us. We scan our boarding pass barcode; they check our passports and move us on. Things might not be as bad as we thought. But they were. And somewhat worse. We were all crowded on to the stairs and kept standing there for over half an hour, with the door to the tarmac firmly locked, presumably because the plane was not actually r...