Sunday, 4 January 2026

Remembering those we love in the Eucharist (Bread for the journey 4)

 


Today we attended our first Sunday mass of the year.  A special intention was included by the priest for my late father. Remembering and praying for the dead is an integral part of the mass including the Eucharistic prayers (“Remember also our brothers and sisters who have fallen asleep in the hope of the resurrection”). Although I am no expert or authority on this matter it is my understanding that the practice of praying for the dead goes back to very early Christian times both in the East and in the West. While important theological differences arise among Christian denominations today we can, all, agree that God’s love is not limited by death; that the  Church is one communion across heaven and earth and that we can entrust the departed to God’s mercy not to so much as to “earn” salvation for them as to recall, in the eucharist, the great sacrifice of our Lord for everyone who died in the faith and fear of God (“We bless thy holy Name for all thy servants departed this life in thy faith and fear” is found in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer).


Overwhelmed with joy

 


Tuesday 6 January 2026


Lectio Divina:*

Isaiah 60:1-6

Psalm 147

Ephesians 3:2-6

Matthew 2:1-12

 

Meditatio:

When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.“ (Matthew 2:10)

 Commentary:

Arise, shine; for your light has come,  and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.. (Isaiah 60:1)

‘’ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5)

These two verses speak powerfully to us at the start of another calendar year, especially when it feels as though our world is sunk in darkness and the light has been overshadowed for a time in the depths of our Northern winter. Christmas draws to a close with the feast of the Epiphany — from the Greek theophaneia, meaning the appearance of God to human beings. The story of that first epiphany is rich in symbolism, and we do well to read it in that spirit, without trying to fill in every historical gap. Matthew invites us into a larger narrative, one that asks for imagination as well as faith.

Saturday, 3 January 2026

Eucharistic hospitality (Bread for the journey 3)

 

Pic: Christian Agape feast in the Catacombs di Priscilla, Roma (Greek chapel 2-4th C) wikimedia commons


Today we had unexpected guests.  It was an occasion to catch up, update and share stories over a meal and it was a welcome break from the little bit of gardening I did yesterday which took its toll on my back muscles this morning! Welcoming someone into your home can be a joy.  According to Irish customs it would be rude to at least not ‘put the kettle on’ and ask if your guests would have a cup of tea.  Coming to share a meal and listen to stories is what Mass is all about. There are three parts to it:

  1. a real physical presence,
  2. a sacrificial joy; and
  3. A communion or fellowship over a meal.

We would missing the point of such an occasion if we were to invite someone to watch us eating our meal while they passively listen to our stories without partaking in the meal. This is how the Mass or the Eucharist is sometime experienced by people who are sent away empty, excluded and not edified by word and example. Our sharing with others especially those who turn up unexpectedly is an extension of the table fellowship of the Eucharist which is why in some traditions the Eucharist is referred to as simply ‘Holy Communion’.

Friday, 2 January 2026

A very real presence (Bread for the Journey 2)

 


January 2

Today while turning compost in our little garden I wondered about a reading for the day.  ‘Who are you?’ the people asked in today’s Gospel reading from the Mass. Every time we break the bread of God’s word we are challenged by the question asked again and again ‘Who is Jesus for me?’. In between celebrations of the eucharist we have a unique privilege to revisit the mass in various ways as we might be able to. This might include a time of prayer and petition based on the scripture readings for the mass of the day.  It might also entail a visit to the Blessed Sacrament in a church that is not locked up.  There, we can find refuge in the wings of the Lord’s eucharist presence. In psalm 46:1 we hear this, “God is our refuge and strength,  a very present help in trouble.”  One of the great consolations of our religion is that we can, on occasions, seek a very real refuge in the very real presence of Christ in the Tabernacle.  Not everyone is able to accept this truth. It is difficult to explain.  It is enough to be present and still and murmur the words, “‘I believe; help my unbelief!’” (Mark 9:24).

Keep turning these words over - like compost.


Write you own obituary!

 

Sunday 4 January 2026

 

Lectio Divina:*

Sirach 24:1-12

Psalm 147

Ephesians 1:3-18

John 1:35-42

 

Meditatio:

What are you looking for?(John 1:38)

 Commentary:

When did you last read an obituary (or hear a funeral eulogy) that went something like this:

‘He was a much revered person who worked all the hours God gave to become the head in this industry and organisation. He put in long hours, cut deals, fought off competitors and saved the organisation on more than one critical moment. He received numerous honorary doctorates and one real one while he wrote eight books, 40 journal articles and served on many commission and boards. He had many friends and contacts but none terribly close. He did make time for family life and local rotary club activities.  He will be missed but life goes on and things change. It was sad to see his health deteriorate in his final years.  He did recognise the few who visited him in the very final months at St Fachtna’ Nursing Home.  His farewell was an occasion of some sadness.’

Not often, I suggest. Not at all, in fact!

Write your own obituary or, better still, live in such a way that others will write an obituary that you can be justly proud of because you were a caring, loving, truthful and fair person in whatever role or responsibility was entrusted to you.

Every so often we need to stop for a few minutes, or hours or even days and ask the hard question that Jesus asked the two disciples: ‘what do I want?’ What do I seek?  Above and beyond the daily toils and struggles what is my purpose and aim in life? Truly?

Sometimes there are no immediate or clear answers. It may involve some trial and error. ‘Come and see’ was Jesus’ reply when asked ‘where are you staying?’

Oratio

Collect

 O God, whose Son is revealed as the Lamb who calls us by name, grant that, like Andrew and the first disciples, we may hear His invitation, follow where He leads,
and bring others into the joy of His presence.  Draw us to remain with Him, that in His light we may discover our true vocation and bear witness to the One who is our Teacher and our Lord, Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.


Thursday, 1 January 2026

A new day (Bread for the Journey 1)

 


January 1

A new year arrived – thank God.  It is a bright and sunny new year’s day.  On my way back from giving a lift I dropped into a local church for my first mass of the year.  I was pleasantly surprised to find a much larger than usual weekday congregation along with a very talented folk group that added to the celebration through song. Sing once and pray twice, as the saying goes. The readings were about peace, blessing and birth.  The gospel reading contained a reference to the circumcision of Jesus (“After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb” – Luke 2:21).  It reminded me that the Christian religion owes its origin to the fleshly, human, Jewish real-world in which Jesus Christ was conceived and born.  Here, in the house of bread, which is what Bethlehem means we are renewed, fed and send out as a eucharistic community to live and work to the praise of God’s glory.  Ite, missa est – go forth the mass is ended. Thanks be to God for a new day, another opportunity to repent, to believe, to turn again to be sent out again and again until our time is called.