The Holy Cross and the Eucharist: living with a purpose

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Cross, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. The origins of this feast go back to the early centuries of Christianity and are associated with the dedication of the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and the Church's veneration of the wood of the Cross on which Christ accomplished our salvation.

At the heart of every Eucharist stands the mystery of the Cross. The Eucharist makes present the one sacrifice of Christ, the true Paschal Lamb, who offered himself for us on Calvary. His sacrifice was offered once for all, yet its saving power reaches us whenever we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. Through this sacred mystery we are drawn into Christ's death and resurrection and share in the grace that flows from his redeeming love.

St John Chrysostom: honouring Christ in the Eucharist and the poor

St John Chrysostom was born in Antioch in Roman Syria (modern-day Antakya, Turkey) around A.D. 347. In the Roman Catholic Church his feast is celebrated on 13 September, while in the Byzantine tradition his principal feast falls on 13 November. Known as ‘Golden-Mouthed’ for his eloquence in preaching, he served as Archbishop of Constantinople and died in exile in A.D. 407. He is renowned for his sermons, biblical commentaries and the Divine Liturgy that bears his name, the most commonly celebrated Eucharistic liturgy in the Eastern Orthodox Church and in many Eastern Catholic Churches.. An example of this Liturgy (translated into English) in the case of the Antiochian Orthodox Church is provided here.

In the example given, the epiclesis, the prayer invoking the Holy Spirit upon the gifts, reads as follows:

Freeing the heart: the long road of forgiveness

Sunday 13 September 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Sirach 27:30-28:7 Psalm 103(102) Romans 14:7-9 Matthew 18:21-35

(See also Luke 17:4)

Meditatio:

‘So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart’  (Matthew 18:35)

Commentary:

This Sunday’s Gospel begins with Peter’s question: how often must he forgive a brother who sins against him? Jesus responds that forgiveness cannot be measured or limited. He then tells the parable of the unforgiving servant and concludes with a solemn warning that forgiveness must come ‘from your heart’.

Forgiveness cuts both ways: our forgiveness of others and God’s forgiveness of us. Jesus has already taught that reconciliation with our neighbour is inseparable from authentic worship (Matthew 5:23-24). Forgiveness is not cheap, nor is it limited to minor grievances. It reaches into the deepest wounds of human experience.

Hunger for truth

In his exhortation, Sacramentum Caritatis, Pope Benedict XVI reminds us that:

Precisely because Christ has become for us the food of truth, the Church turns to every man and woman, inviting them freely to accept God's gift.

It is by meeting Christ in the Blessed Sacrament and being nourished by his Word that are souls are strengthened for the journey ahead.  Each one of us, whether we know it or not, deeply desires truth, beauty and goodness.  One of the great legacies of Pope Benedict XVI was the emphasis he placed on faithful adherence to the liturgical rites of the Church. Beauty, reverence, sacred music, appropriate architecture and careful celebration help reveal the mystery being celebrated. The truth of Christ’s presence in the Sacrament can never be separated from the truth of Christian witness. We go out into the world from each Mass to be broken bread for all of humanity.  In a sense – not to be confused with the reception of the Sacrament – we become food for the world.

The truth of Christ's presence in the Eucharist can never be separated from the truth of Christian witness. Having encountered Christ and received him in Holy Communion, we are sent forth to bring his love to the world. People may never read the Bible or attend Mass, but they encounter us every day. If our lives reflect Christ's self-giving charity, we become living witnesses to the Gospel and signs of the love we have received in the Eucharist.

Keeping watch with Jesus in the Eucharist

Credit: godongphoto | Shutterstock

The practice of the Forty Hours Devotion has deep roots in the Roman Catholic tradition. Adoration of Christ present in the reserved Eucharist, as we know it today, has been part of Catholic life for at least seven centuries. The devotion takes its name from the approximately forty hours during which Christ's body lay in the tomb between his death and resurrection, a symbolism strongly promoted by St Charles Borromeo and widely embraced in the Church's devotional tradition. The number forty also recalls other significant moments in salvation history, especially the forty days Jesus spent in prayer and fasting in the desert before beginning his public ministry.

At its heart, the Forty Hours Devotion is an extended period of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, inviting the faithful to contemplate the mystery of Christ's abiding presence among his people. Far from being separate from the celebration of the Mass, Eucharistic adoration flows directly from it and leads back to it.

Pope Benedict XVI wrote in Sacramentum Caritatis (2007):

The litmus test

A striking feature of modern political discourse – amplified by social media – is the lack of respect, civility and inclusion. The world is increasingly polarised into ‘them’ and ‘us’. ‘They’, who are different from ‘us’ whether by colour, creed, sexuality, political views or social class are deemed to be a threat.  ‘We’ are the victims while ‘they’ get preferential treatment in relation to goods, services and right of access. The ‘other’ is viewed as any or all of the following: suspicious, dangerous, lazy, violent, opportunistic, callous and deviant.

Christians are called to witness to the love of Christ, who offers salvation to all and excludes no person from the reach of his mercy.  We are called to view all of our neighbours as brothers and sisters of the human family.  It is appalling to witness cases such as that which was widely reported earlier this week when gangs of hooded, masked and uniformly dressed men shouted ‘Christ is King’ while they terrorised people who were trying to help other human beings. Resorting to violence and threats – online as well as offline – against the brave men and women who rescued human beings from the sea shows the depths to which hateful ideologies have entered our societies more and more. Not only that, but many of these ideologies have sought to hijack Christian religion for purposes completely inimical to the message of Jesus Christ.

The Eucharist as an antidote to the culture of power

The dominant narrative of our age is one of power: power over others, the triumph of the ego or the nation-state and the reduction of human persons to numbers, consumers or units of production. Against this backdrop, Pope Leo XIV offers a compelling witness to the Gospel, calling us back to the true source of human renewal: the Eucharist. In Magnifica Humanitas, he writes (#234):

The spirituality that we need is a Eucharistic spirituality, that is, a spirituality of ecclesial unity in love. The Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery reveal God entering into our human condition and transforming it through the gift of himself. This gift remains present and active in the Eucharist, in which the Lord gives himself and gathers the Church together, so that his offering becomes the principle of unity and source of new life. It is from this communion that Christian solidarity also arises, since “union with Christ is also union with all those to whom he gives himself.” 

Mary, the first tabernacle: celebrating the nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Towards the end of his long reflection in Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo XIV exhorts the faithful to join their prayers with those of the Blessed Virgin Mary (#299):

At the end of this reflection, I would like to propose a sober yet demanding program of Christian life with which we can navigate this epochal change in the light of the Gospel. This avenue emerges through contemplating God’s plan, living ecclesial unity by partaking of the Eucharist, building a world centred on the common good and praying in union with the Blessed Virgin Mary.

On this the birthday of Mary we celebrate the moment when Mary is born into a world awaiting its saviour.  Together with her son, Jesus, and cousin, John the Baptist, today is only one of three days in the liturgical calendar when we celebrate a birthday.  The seasons are marked in this way:

Beyond Babel: Eucharistic Solidarity in Magnifica Humanitas

 

Eucharist — Saint Patrick Catholic Church

Earlier this summer, Pope Leo XIV published a ground-breaking encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, in which he spoke of the urgent need to rise to the challenge of artificial intelligence.  The encyclical is like a condensed story of the development of Catholic Social Teaching (CST) since the 1891 encyclical of Pope Leo XIII, Rerum Novarum. In my view CST is a great and unique treasure of the Roman Catholic church. Together with the mystery of the Eucharist, CST is among the principal reasons that I remain within Roman Catholicism. In saying this I am painfully aware of the collective as well as many individual failures to live according to CST principles in the light of the Gospel. At the heart of CST are the principles of:

The intrinsic, infinite and equal dignity of all humans;

Victorious in Christ

 

In the Cross, we are reminded that God became one of us, sharing all our vulnerabilities. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). He who did not sin made himself one with us on the Cross (Hebrews 4:15; 2 Corinthians 5:21). God invites us to offer him our weaknesses, our uncertainties, even our despair, casting all our anxieties on him, for he cares for us (1 Peter 5:7). It is in uniting ourselves with the Cross of Jesus in the celebration of the Eucharist — especially on this, the Lord’s Day, the day of the Resurrection (Luke 24:1-8; Acts 20:7) — that we draw new hope and new strength for the journey ahead.

We do not walk this road alone, nor do we walk it under our own power. The same Christ who emptied himself on the Cross rose again on the third day, and it is his risen life we receive at every Eucharist. Whatever weighs on us this week — the world’s brokenness or our own — we can bring it to the altar and leave transformed, 'more than conquerors through him who loved us' (Romans 8:37). That is the hope of the Lord’s Day: not that our struggles vanish, but that we face them carried by a strength not our own. 

Jesus at the door and on the altar

 St Teresa of Calcutta served the dying, the abandoned, and the poorest of the poor. She famously insisted that the Eucharist and service of the poor were inseparable. She often taught that the Christ received in Holy Communion is the same Christ encountered in the distressing disguise of the poor.

In July 1981, I attended a Mass in Dublin at which Mother Teresa, as she was known at the time, spoke to a packed church of some 1,500 people. She spoke about holiness, love of the poor, family life as well as abortion. On the subject of family life, she called for prayer and love. When family life breaks down, bitterness and wrongdoing can take root, she said. Holiness was not just for a few but for everyone. 'We must all imitate Jesus, meek and humble of heart', she urged.

Three years later, during a visit to Liverpool, I was brought to a house in a very deprived area of the inner city where the Missionaries of Charity lived and served the local community. I cannot forget the bare floor on which the sisters prayed as Mass was celebrated. I had the honour of being given a chair, notwithstanding my youth! Nor can I forget the constant ringing of the doorbell as people continued to come seeking help.

Jesus was adored in the Blessed Sacrament in the living room and served in the poor in the hallway.

A universe drawn towards Christ in the Eucharist

 Earlier this week, I have written about the essay-poem of Teilhard de Chardin (TDC), The Mass on the World (MOW).  Although largely sidelined and to some extent silenced, Fr Teilhard de Chardin remained a priest in good standing until his death in 1955. His writings and thinking have had a profound effect within and beyond the Catholic world.  One person, in particular, deeply influenced by TDC is the US Franciscan priest, Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM. In many ways, he has helped popularise many of TDC’s ideas. In The Influence of Teilhard de Chardin, Rohr has written:

Teilhard gives a beautiful coherence to the universe and unites the disparate strands of knowledge into one unified whole, which is exactly what our deepest soul invariably insists must be true. Whether you agree with his precise interpretation or not, you cannot help but breathe fresh air when you absorb even a bit of his optimism, faith, and intelligence—in what, for him, was a certain and positive future, which he called the Omega Point, the Cosmic Christ.

Rohr closes his short article with the following:

How the Fathers shaped the Church's Eucharistic faith

Among the great teachers and Fathers of the early Christian Church is Pope St. Gregory the Great (c. 540–604 A.D.). Just as monastic Christianity was flourishing in Ireland, the entire Christian Church that was in communion with the see of Rome was, directly, under the leadership of the successor to Peter.

Sometimes, writers like to believe that Celtic Christianity was something very separate and unique, to such an extent that something called 'Roman Christianity' arrived, more or less, with the Normans in the 12th Century. This is a distortion of Irish history. Yes, there were features unique to Ireland and what is now Britain, including an emphasis on nature, monasticism, asceticism and fashions and habits that might hint at ties to Eastern Christian traditions. Pragmatically, Christianity, as it did elsewhere, had to negotiate its way into local cultures, 'baptising' some pagan symbols and rites by removing what was idolatrous and centring attention on the Son of God and not the Sun. Pagan ritual sites became holy wells, and some scholars argue that the cult of St. Brigid absorbed elements of an earlier pagan goddess of the same name — though the extent of any direct continuity is debated among historians of early Ireland and should be taken as a contested thesis rather than settled fact.

One area of interest is the Eucharist, because we can be assured that what was believed and practiced in the universal Church - East and West - was also held in Ireland, notwithstanding any particular local adaptations in the liturgy.

How to correct one another with Jesus in our midst

Sunday 6 September 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Ezekiel 33:7-9 Psalm 95(94) Romans 13:8-10 Matthew 18:15-20

(See also Luke 17:3)

Meditatio:

 For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.’  (Matthew 18:20)

Commentary:

Today's Gospel comes from a section of Matthew concerned with life within the Christian community. Written at a time when the early Church was emerging amid persecution, division and uncertainty, it addresses a persistent question: how do Christians deal with sin, conflict and reconciliation?

A consistent Eucharistic thread in Teilhard de Chardin

In yesterday's blog I introduced some of the ideas of Fr Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (TDC), the French Jesuit priest and scientist who left a significant mark on the spiritual, ecclesial and scientific worlds.

His essay-poem The Mass on the World (MOW) is a remarkable meditation on creation and its relationship to the Eucharist. It is important to state at the outset that The Mass on the World is not a sacramental Mass. TDC wrote it while on an expedition in the Ordos region of Inner Mongolia, where he had no access to bread, wine or altar for the celebration of Mass. What he offers is a meditation and prayer, not an attempt to celebrate the Eucharist without the matter required for the sacrament.

Underlying Catholic theology of the Eucharist are three fundamental realities:

• Presence
• Communion
• Sacrifice

At the Altar of the World

Today, the first day in the Season of Creation marks an important moment in the Church's annual observance of prayer and care for creation.  We are mindful of the creative power of God in creating all that is seen and unseen.  Christ, the eternal Word through whom all things were made, has entered creation to redeem, sanctify and bring it to its fulfilment.

 In the celebration of the Eucharist we return thanks for all that we are and have.  Not just that, but we are united in a mysterious way with Heaven and Earth in one single chant of praise, adoration and thanksgiving.  Immersed in the universe we are joining a chorus that lifts up the world.

Over a century ago, a French priest, Fr PierreTeilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) wrote a short and remarkable piece of work entitled The Mass on the World. Finding himself in the Ordos desert in Mongolia, in 1923 without bread, wine or altar, Fr Teilhard de Chardin was moved to write this piece that captures his mystical and scientific insights into a beautiful piece of prose. As a Jesuit priest, scientist, paleontologist, philosopher, mystic and teacher he was able to bring a unique synthesis of insight in a unity that stretches our understanding and concepts.

Joining all creatures to praise our Creator

As Laudato Si’ has warned, the ecological crisis demonstrates a systematic failure to care for God’s gift of creation. Human sin is trashing the delicate web of life on this planet. The poorest suffer the most. The celebration of the Eucharist on 1 September is an opportunity to give thanks for creation (that goes to the heart of the meaning of the word Eucharist) as well as to pray for conversion and renewal.  Though we may differ on how exactly to proceed, this also has a huge political significance for how Catholics should behave, work, travel and vote. We owe it to this generation and the coming generations.  We are rightly concerned about the culture of death that threatens the unborn.  Likewise, we must be concerned about the culture of death that threatens those are already born as well as those who will come after us.

Tomorrow we celebrate the ‘Mass for the Care of Creation’.

Gardening in God's valley

It has been a strange summer, preceded by a strange winter. Some of my vegetables did not turn out well due to heat stress and the challenges of keeping the garden watered from our well. As weather patterns become more unpredictable and we experience extended periods of drought interspersed with heavy downpours, the topic of care for creation comes increasingly to the fore.

In 1989, Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios I of Constantinople established 1 September as a Day of Prayer for Creation, marking an important milestone in Christian awareness of the environment and our responsibilities towards it. Following the publication of his encyclical Laudato Si', Pope Francis instituted the annual World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, also celebrated on 1 September. More than ever, we are aware of our call to care for the earth, receiving it as God's gift and stewarding it wisely rather than treating it merely as a source of extraction.

Weary trying to hold it in

Sunday 30 August 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Jeremiah 20:7-9 Psalm 63(62) Romans 12:1-2 Matthew 16:21-27

(See also Mark 8:34-9:1 and Luke 9:23-27 and John 12:25-26)

Meditatio:

 “If I say, ‘I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name’, then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot." (Jeremiah 20:9)

Commentary:

There is a small irony in this Sunday’s reading. Last Sunday, we heard about the conferring of the keys on Peter, the rock on whom Christ builds his Church. This Sunday, immediately following that discourse, we hear Peter being called a stumbling block—a skandalon in Greek—ironically from the same Jesus who had just named him Petros, the rock.

Jesus does not mince his words: ‘Get behind me, Satan.’ Later in the Gospels we learn that Peter will deny the Lord three times, and yet be forgiven, restored and strengthened. His story is not one of perfection at once but of conversion.

Like Peter, we too can become stumbling blocks for others on life’s journey. By our attitudes, assumptions and ways of thinking, we can become instruments not of peace and unity but of discord, harm and alienation. Being a stumbling block is one thing; failing to recognise it and change is quite another. We can cling to self‑interest or to the approval of others while ignoring the demands of love. Many are deterred or scandalised because the light of Christ seems absent from our words, actions and manner of living.

An ordinary life

Earlier today, I attended the funeral Mass of an elderly gentleman in a local town. As is customary, the men's choir sang at the funeral, as they do for parish funerals when requested. I did not know the man who had died.  I am always struck by the words of the priest on such occasions.

Almost invariably, the faith of the deceased is mentioned. At today's funeral, the priest recalled how the man had been baptised in the same church where his funeral Mass was being celebrated, 89 years ago. He received his First Holy Communion there and, some years later, was confirmed in the same church. Sixty years ago, he was married there. The priest also told the congregation that he occupied the same seat at the same Mass every Sunday.

Behold what you are; become what you receive

St Augustine (354-430 A.D.) was a theological heavy weight – giving us a huge range of writings that encapsulated the themes of conversion, communion and grace.  Augustine along with others helped set the scene for much of Christian thinking and spiritual life for the next 1,600 years.  The current Pope, from the Order of  Saint Augustinian, draws from a rich Augustinian tradition that is timely in a world threatened by forces that seek to tear it apart.

As a young man, Augustine sought truth, goodness and beauty in many places, but ultimately found their fulfilment in Christ alone. Famously, he wrote at the very beginning of his Confessions:

 You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.

Mothers at the altar

Nothing quite compares to the  love of a mother.  That is my view. I see it all the time. I know that some children suffer want and neglect but the overwhelming evidence points to a high point of self-sacrificing love between mothers and their children that is remarkable.  Saint Monica (c. 332-387 A.D.), whose feast day is today, prayed ceaselessly for her wayward son, Augustine. Eventually, he saw the light. He would become a great saint, bishop and doctor of the Church (St Augustine of Hippo) and author of major classics in Christian literature and theology.  He wrote, in his Confessions:

…she had learned to bring to the Churches of the martyrs a breast filled with more purified petitions, and to give what she could to the poor; that so the communication of the Lord's Body might be there rightly celebrated, where, after the example of His Passion, the martyrs had been sacrificed and crowned   Confessions 6.2.2

Hunger for God

Church of the Holy Spirit, Ballyroan,
Rathfarnham, Dublin 

There is a raging hunger in the world for food that lasts. Most people are not even aware of their hunger and thirst.  This is where Jesus brings us something that no earthly food, pleasure or status can bring: joy in the heart.

When we receive with faith God rewards us with his presence and dwelling and nothing can compare to this. Here is something worth living for and dying for because it is pure giving for the life of the world.

Jesus alone offers the food that lasts because it is his flesh and blood that he gives.

'We are all in there together'

An Orthodox Catholic priest explained in simple terms the mystery of the Eucharist in response to a question from a parent of child about to receive Holy Communion. He wrote:

So we don’t just say that we want Christ to live metaphorically in our hearts — we receive Him physically in our bodies. God comes to us, God transforms that bread and wine, so that He can truly become a part of us. Literally.

He also went on to write something very beautiful that I had not quite thought of before:

We don’t just say that we are meant to be in communion with God and with one another, but our priests place bits of bread for the Theotokos and the Saints, for the loved ones who have gone before us, into the communion chalice so that we are all in there together when we approach the one holy chalice as a parish community.

Far from imagining that the real change in the bread and wine was some notion invented in the West in the middle ages, St Cyril of Alexandria mirroring many other early Fathers of the Church wrote in 430 A.D.:

Receiving the Gift: Holy Communion, Tradition and Charity

It is extraordinary how Christians can find so much to argue about when it comes to the finer points of liturgy – language, vestments, posture etc.  Yes, it is really important to give of our best in divine worship and to pay attention to the details – we are responding to a magnificent invitation to sit at the Lord’s Table. However, let’s not forget that it is the Lord’s table and not our own.  It is surely good to follow tradition while being open to adaptation and innovation where initiated or permitted by legitimate authority.

More than a little controversy has erupted in recent times on the esoteric fringes of the online Catholic world where individuals take it upon themselves to pontificate on matters of liturgy. Should we receive Holy Communion on the tongue or in our hands? What is the history of practice in this regard?  Should there be room for diversity?  Opinions multiply and, in the meantime, many ‘do their own thing’. A sense of proportion and, not infrequently, a sense of charity is missing.

The call I did not expect

St Andrew's Church, Westland Row, Dublin

On this day, Saturday 23 August 1980, I made the following entry in my diary:

It was a sunny, warm day. By mid-afternoon I left the meeting feeling very fed up and incapable of continuing on with this way of life. On my way home, by bicycle, I stopped in Westland Row to pray in Saint Andrew's RC Church. I simply went in, genuflected and knelt down and started to pray as I looked towards the tabernacle. I did not stay very long.

The entry is significant because for 7 years prior to that date I had lived as a self-proclaimed atheist.  I had stopped religious practice in the Autumn of 1973. This was a rather unusual step in so far as most people of my age-group maintained some degree of outward religious practice even if not that frequent. 

There is, perhaps, a germ of personal hope in recounting this personal story because it seems to me that the widely adopted option of disowning belief (or simply declaring ‘I am not religious’) which seems to more or less the norm nowadays among millennials or Gen Z persons may not be sustainable in the very long-run. What I am trying to say here, in plain English is that:

Why special vestments?

 

Question: Why do priests wear vestments at Mass?
Answer:  For persons not familiar with Catholic ritual and practice the sight of priests or ministers wearing colourful robes and vestments may seem puzzling, if not quaint.  What has any of this to do with what is going on, one may ask?  The wearing of vestments is symbolic – it represents and signifies something sacred and set apart.  The priest acts ‘in the person of Christ’ (‘in persona Christi’) and not only leads the prayers but becomes a sacramental sign of Christ in the mystery of his death and resurrection.  The focus is not on the priest so much as on Christ who offered himself once for all on Calvary. In the Eucharist the fruits and graces of that one sacrifice are made present and applied to us.
Each liturgical season is associated with different colours so that, for example, in Ordinary Time (from Pentecost to Advent as well as immediately before Lent) the vestments as well as the altar cover and frontal as well as  the hanging lectern cloth are usually green.  During Advent and Lent, purple is used while red is used on feast days of the apostles, martyrs or at Pentecost. White is used on the great feasts of the Lord, on Marian feasts and on many solemnities and saints' days.

‘The shortest and safest way to Heaven’

Introducing young children to Eucharistic devotion as well as attendance at Sunday Mass is a wonderful gift that parents can make.  Communities ought to support families and children in facilitating this. After all, schools are known to introduce children to practices of mindfulness (and I have no issue with this). Why should we not also introduce children, in age-appropriate and carefully guided ways, to eucharistic prayer and adoration?

St Pope Pius X (1835-1914) whose feast day is today was instrumental in opening up reception of holy communion to children from the age of around 7.  He is associated with two reforms in particular:

• Frequent reception of holy communion - provided they were in the state of grace and approached with the right intention.
• Restoration of the age for First Communion to the age of reason (about seven years old).

The early Church commonly admitted children to Holy Communion, a practice that continued for many centuries and is still maintained in the Eastern Catholic Churches. Pope Pius rejected the idea that children needed advanced theological knowledge before receiving the Eucharist. He saw the Eucharist as the primary means of union with Christ.

A famous idea associated with Pius X is that the Eucharist is: ‘the shortest and safest way to Heaven.’  His reforms helped overcome lingering attitudes that discouraged frequent Communion due to scruples and fear. He opened his 1910 encyclical, Quam singulari, as follows:

The Eucharistic kiss

St Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) did not write a systematic treatise devoted exclusively to the Eucharist in the way that later theologians would do. Bernard’s approach to the Eucharist is contemplative, mystical and unitive.  We can gain some insight into his approach by immersing ourselves in the monastic spirituality of the Benedictine family of which the Cistercians were a new development from the 12^th Century.  For the early Cistercians, and broadly within the Benedictine monastic tradition of Bernard's time, the focus was on a living relationship with Christ through Scripture, the liturgy and the sacrament. 
  In his Sermons on the Song of Songs, he uses the language of desire, intimacy and union between the disciple and Jesus.

For Bernard, Christianity was essentially a relationship with Christ. The Eucharist was not just a sacred object or ritual but a privileged meeting with the Bridegroom of the soul.   In one of his sermons he quotes the Song of Songs:

"Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth.”

Looking to the rock from which we were hewn

Sunday 23 August 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Isaiah 22:19-23 Psalm 138(137) Romans 11:33-36 Matthew16:13-20

(See also Mark 8:27-33 and Luke 9:18-22)

Meditatio:

 ‘Look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. (Isaiah 51:1)

Commentary:

Every so often we may stop and wonder; stare and think; appreciate and move on.  The gospels contain one such ‘stop and wonder’ moment when Jesus asks what seems like a very simple question. It ran something like this:

I have been with you some time. We have had great times together and we have had hard times together. I never promised you that it would be easy.  You heard my call and you followed me.  Others did likewise.  News about us spread throughout the country. Some said I was a great prophet – even the greatest, others said I was a trouble maker and a fraud while others, still, said I was from the Evil One.  But, you – what do you think?  Who do you say I am? Why are you still following me? Who am I to you?

For today on this God-given Sunday, we are asked the same question.  ‘Who is Jesus Christ for you?’ ‘What does Jesus Christ mean for you today?’ ‘Does it matter?’ ‘What difference does Jesus make to my life today?’

Hitting rock bottom and meeting the risen Christ in the Eucharist

The venerable, Matt Talbot (1856-1925) came to be known as a holy man after his death in 1925.  (My late mother told me that she remembered, as a child, when her father read out a piece from the daily newspaper that a man had been found dead in a laneway in Dublin with chains on his body).

Matt transitioned from severe alcoholism at a very young age to living a holy life entirely devoted to prayer, daily Mass, long hours before the Blessed Sacrament, frequent confession and work. He admitted that from the time of his early teens to his late twenties, each day revolved around thoughts of how to obtain alcohol.

One account of his turning point at the rock bottom of his life at the age of 28 is as follows (The Eucharistic Devotion of Venerable Matt Talbot):

As Matt lay there, he had hit rock bottom. As he turned to God, he begged for the grace to overcome his addiction. As the faithful began to arrive for the early morning Mass, they were disgusted to see a drunk lying on the church doorsteps. What they did not realize was the miracle of grace taking place.

Bless also my enemies: the witness of Blessed Leisner

Inscription reads: 'Bless also, O Most High, my enemies'

Karl Leisner (1915-1945) was a German priest who died shortly after being held as a prisoner in Dachau concentration camp outside Munich. Dachau was the proto-type concentration camp conceived by the Nazis at the very beginning of their tyrannical reign in 1933.  During his formative years as a young man he was active in the Schoenstatt movement.

I recall visiting Dachau and seeing the cells and barracks where priests were imprisoned. The camp contained a special section, the so-called 'Priests' Block', in which many Catholic clergy were confined.

Leisner was possibly only known to the Nazis as a catholic activist arrested for articulating anti-Nazi views.

Leisner was showed extraordinary leadership and courage in the period leading up to his arrest in 1939.  He encouraged young people to remain faithful to Christ and not to submit to Nazi ideology.

A telling vision at Knock

There have been many reports of apparitions of Mary, the Mother of God, across the world in recent decades and centuries. Some have been recognised and approved by the authorities of the Roman Catholic church while some have not.  A few turned out to be hoaxes.  Most attract the presence and prayers of large numbers of people.  No approved apparition is imposed on the beliefs of Catholics. One is free to accept, reject, doubt or remain indifferent to all such apparitions.  What is required is faith in the truths revealed by God and taught by the Church through Sacred Scripture, Sacred Tradition and the Magisterium.

All that said, many holy places associated with claimed apparitions of Our Lady are important sites and, in my view, can be accorded some degree of credibility and importance in one’s spiritual life based on the evidence of the fruits flowing from such a place. ‘You will know them by their fruits.’ says Jesus in Matthew 7:16.

Extraordinary ministers and witnesses

ORTHODOX CHRISTIANITY THEN AND NOW: Saint Tarcisius the Acolyte

In my late childhood I was an altar server, as were a great many boys of my age at that time. "Serving Mass" was considered a great honour and required careful attention to the duties, gestures, rules and etiquette of the role. There was to be no whispering, fidgeting or staring out at the congregation. At that time, shortly after the introduction of the vernacular into the liturgy, the paten was still used as communicants received Holy Communion on the tongue while kneeling. One of the altar server's responsibilities was to hold a small metal paten beneath the chin of each communicant.

A decade later, after returning to the practice of my faith, I was commissioned as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, a role often referred to more informally as a Eucharistic Minister. The preparation involved attending a series of talks, obtaining the necessary liturgical booklets for bringing Holy Communion to the sick at home and, as far as I can remember, participating in a simple commissioning rite during Mass.

Where Mary Has Gone, the Eucharist Leads Us

 

Source: Dormition of the Virgin Mary

Today is the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary – it remains one of the great feasts of the Christian year – both in the Latin and Eastern Orthodox churches. While formally defined as dogma by the Roman Catholic Church only in 1950, belief in Mary's assumption into heavenly glory has deep roots in Christian tradition. Eastern Christians celebrate the same mystery as the Dormition, the ‘falling asleep’ of the Mother of God.

The Scriptures assigned to this Solemnity are marked by joy and triumph. The Book of Revelation presents the heavenly woman clothed with the sun. Psalm 45 depicts the Queen standing at the king's right hand. St Paul proclaims Christ's victory over death, and in Luke's Gospel Mary sings the Magnificat, praising God's saving power and mercy.

The others

Image: The Canaanite Woman asks for healing for her daughter

Naskh is the caligraphic style for writing in the Arabic alphabet that the biblical text is written in for this manuscript.  The artist, Ilyas Basim Khuri Bazzi Rahib, was most likely a Coptic monk in the late 17th century in Egypt. 1684 from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

Sunday 16 August 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Isaiah 56:1-7 Psalm 67(66)

Romans 13:13-32 Matthew 15:21-28 (See also Mark 7:24-30)

Meditatio:

‘I will gather others to them besides those already gathered.’ (Isaiah 56:8)

Commentary:

The second part of this Sunday’s Gospel presents us with a challenging encounter. We find Jesus in the region of Tyre and Sidon, territory that would have been considered foreign by many of his fellow Jews. In Matthew’s Gospel, this episode follows immediately after a dispute between Jesus and certain Pharisees and scribes concerning the observance of the Law, particularly ritual practices of purification.

Into this setting comes a Canaanite woman, a foreigner, who approaches Jesus and begins crying out for help. She is not one of the chosen people of Israel, yet she recognises in Jesus a source of hope and salvation. Her plea raises an important question: why should a devout Jew respond to the request of a foreign woman? At first, Jesus appears not to answer her. Then, when he does speak, his words seem surprisingly harsh: 'It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs'.