Signs pointing beyond themselves

The first thing that strikes you on entering the public church of the Monastery of the Holy Cross is the water font immediately to the left of the entrance. Above it hangs a simple metal sign inscribed with the words: “One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism”—a direct quotation from Ephesians 4:5. Before a single word is spoken, the church proclaims the fundamental unity of Christian life grounded in baptism.

Moving into the body of the church, your eye is drawn in an unbroken line toward the altar, the true centre and focal point of the entire space. As you approach, you notice that the altar rises a little from a large circular base, solidly grounded and yet visually expansive. What immediately struck me was its resemblance to the Eucharistic host—one form composed of many parts. It called to mind Saint Paul’s words:

“Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.” (1 Corinthians 10:17)

More please

 Sunday 26 April 2026

 Lectio Divina:*

Acts 2:36-41 Psalm 23(22)

1 Peter 2:20-25 John 10:1-10

Meditatio:

‘I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.’   (John 10:1-10)

Secret places

It took nearly fifteen years before I discovered a small secret within the monastery where I was staying. Just beside the monastic church there is a room: enter by its door and you find yourself in a sacred space where the Most Blessed Sacrament is reserved for adoration and private prayer, and, when the need arises, for the celebration of the Eucharist by small groups.

To be able to take time to enter such a space and simply be still is a real privilege. Today, churches are often locked in the evenings and sometimes even during the day. As a result, it can be difficult to find both the time and the space for a true “heart‑to‑heart” conversation with the Blessed Trinity in the presence of the reserved Blessed Sacrament.

Eucharistic hospitality

Eighteen years ago, very early on a cold February morning, I first arrived at the doors of Holy Cross Abbey, the Benedictine monastery nestled at the head of the Kilbroney Valley just outside Rostrevor, “where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.” Apart from a two‑year interruption during the Covid era, I have returned every year since.

What strikes me on each visit is, first of all, the magnificent beauty of the natural surroundings, and also the abbey’s quiet witness as a place of reconciliation and unity on an island with a deeply troubled history. From the grounds one can look across the border into the South, with the Cooley Mountains rising in the distance.

Seen but not heard? (#4)

A modern icon or Aghia Magdalini or Saint Mary Magdalene by Alexandra Kaouki in her workshop in Rethymnon (Photograph © Alexandra Kaouki)

Saint Paul is often blamed for attitudes that appear to relegate women to a wholly passive or subordinate role within society, the household, and the Church. One of the key passages cited in support of this view comes from his First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 14:33–35):

Equal but different - the case for women priests #3

St Alban's Psalter

Credit: Wikimedia Commons

It seems to me that proponents of the status quo (a male‑only priesthood) and proponents of change (the inclusion of women in ordained ministry) are often talking past one another. Those who defend the current practice tend to rely on arguments from tradition, symbolism, and ecclesial order, while those calling for change focus on equality, power, and the elimination of discrimination. As a result, the debate frequently becomes polarised rather than genuinely dialogical.

What both sides generally agree on, however, is that men and women are created equally in the image of God (Genesis 1:27):

So God created humankind (’adam in the Hebrew), in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

The role of cultural norms

It is clear that both Scripture and Tradition come to us expressed through particular historical and cultural contexts. The human authors and teachers through whom God chose to communicate His eternal and unchanging truth were themselves shaped by the assumptions, language and social structures of their time.

Accordingly, the ways in which believers think about God and articulate their faith are influenced by the cultural norms of the societies in which they live. It is therefore unsurprising that in biblical and New Testament times women did not occupy recognised positions of leadership in the synagogue, the Temple or the early Christian communities, although there is some evidence of women exercising significant and in certain cases possibly leading roles. This evidence will be considered later in relation to the question of the diaconate.

The case for women's ordination #1

 

First things first.  When we discuss any matter of doctrinal, moral or ecclesiastical importance we ought to seek only one thing – the Will of God. His will is above any individual including the successor of Saint Peter.  Rarely, is papal infallibility invoked in the full sense of the word (‘ex cathedra’ or ‘from the Chair’). 

A heart strangely warmed

 

It was about 8.45pm on the evening of 24th May 1738 when John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, had an ‘experience’ in Aldersgate while someone read from Luther’s Preface to the Letter to the Romans.  Wesley wrote of the experience, afterwards, that, "while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death."

The weight of the magisterium

A third factor enters into the debate about ordination within the Roman Catholic Church.  In 1994, the saintly Pope John Paul II issued a very significant document entitled Ordinatio Sacerdotalis. He did not mince his words when he declared:

'the Church has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women'

He went even further by declaring the following:

Wherefore, in order that all doubt may be removed regarding a matter of great importance, a matter which pertains to the Church's divine constitution itself, in virtue of my ministry of confirming the brethren (cf. Lk 22:32) I declare that the Church has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women and that this judgment is to be definitively held by all the Church's faithful.

The case for a male only priesthood - based on sacramental and sexual imagery (#2)

Yesterday, I briefly considered an argument from tradition used by the Roman Catholic Church to justify the exclusion of women from ordination to the priesthood. Today, I turn to a second and more theologically complex line of reasoning: the appeal to sexual or symbolism.

In Inter Insigniores – a document of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith issued in 1976, the Church draws on New Testament references to the Church as a Bride (e.g 2 Corinthians11:2; Ephesians5:22-23).  Inter Insigniores extends this imagery to the ministerial priesthood, arguing that when the priest presides at the Eucharist, he represents Christ in his role as Bridegroom giving himself for his Bride, the Church.

The case for a male only priesthood - based on apostolic tradition (#1)

In today’s blog I present an initial case, grounded in apostolic tradition, for the exclusion of women from priestly ordination in the Roman Catholic Church and, by extension, in other Churches that understand themselves as catholic and apostolic. I will divide up the arguments for into three groups – apostolic tradition, sacramental imagery and magisterial authority.  In later blogs I will consider the case for changing current norms or, at least, to reconsider the position of the Church. Finally, I weigh in with my own thoughts and tentative conclusions.

Women's ordination?

The world has changed dramatically since I was born in the middle of the last century. Rapid shifts in the roles of men and women – together with major improvements in living standards, education, and workforce participation, especially for women – have reshaped society in profound ways. Assumptions that once supported fixed or subordinate roles for women in patriarchal cultures have gradually given way to greater equality, at least in the more economically prosperous parts of the world.

A pleasant surprise

 

A visit, today, to the Basilica of Saint Michael’s Cathedral in downtown Toronto happily coincided with the celebration of Mass at 12.10pm  I was pleasantly surprised to see not only a reasonably good turnout of people but also to see the presence of a large number of people I would consider to be young. My estimate is that very approximately 50% of attenders were under the age of 40. I could not help notice a queue (a line!) of 12 or so young people waiting for confession.

Why the Mass is a sacrifice

Language matters. We often assume we understand what others mean, yet theology can be especially challenging because many of its words and expressions feel far removed from the everyday language of ordinary people. The Mass, too, can seem at first glance like something distant from our day‑to‑day experience. Most children in Ireland, at least, are not familiar with the sounds, rhythms, and symbols of the Eucharist. Religious instruction in schools is uneven, and apart from the major rites of passage – First Holy Communion and Confirmation – many children have little regular or deep contact with the sacraments. At least, that is how it appears to me.

Sunday matters - an update

 

A recent family visit to Toronto offered a welcome opportunity to experience the celebration of Mass in a truly cosmopolitan and culturally diverse setting. Canada, like every nation, faces serious challenges, and the behaviour of its closest neighbour does not always make life easier. Yet Canada remains a striking example of how an extraordinary diversity of cultures can live, work, and worship together in relative harmony.

Who presides?

 

Who presides at the Eucharist? Jesus Christ does.

This is the central truth we must never lose sight of. The ordained minister acts in persona Christi—in the person of Christ, on His behalf, and also in Him and through Him. This can be difficult to accept when some ministers have gravely violated their vows and caused deep harm. But their crimes must never be confused with the sacramental action they perform. Christ is the true presider, and His work is not undone by human sin.

In the name of all creation

 

All of creation is suffering serious harm because of human greed and disordered behaviour, greatly aggravated by wars, repression, and the misuse of the gifts God has entrusted to us (refer to Laudato Si). Creation is a gift, and we are part of it. If creation “groans” as Saint Paul writes in his Letter to the Romans (8:22), then we, too, “groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies” (8:23). Our time on earth is limited, and the older we grow the closer we come to that moment when creation itself “will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (8:21).

The late Pope Francis captures the intimate bond between creation and the Eucharist in Laudato Si:

Faith and doubt - a human dialogue

 2nd Sunday of Easter - Sunday 12 April 2026

 Lectio Divina:*

Acts 2:42-47 Psalm 118(117)

1 Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Meditatio:

‘ Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’ (John 20:29)

 Commentary:

To have faith is to trust and to entrust. It means taking a step, sometimes a leap, without full certainty. Faith does not require doubt, yet because we are limited creatures, doubt often accompanies the journey. In trusting, we hand our doubts to God, and God receives them. Simple? Yes and no. Life is rarely clear‑cut, and questions press in on every side.

A second century celebration of the Mass

 

Throughout the Easter season we repeatedly hear Gospel accounts of the Risen Jesus sharing meals with his disciples. On the road to Emmaus, for example, we read that Jesus “took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them” (Luke 24:13–35). The evangelists clearly intend us to recognise in these moments the early Eucharistic life of the Christian community.

A century later, Saint Justin Martyr—born in Flavia Neapolis (modern‑day Nablus, north of Jerusalem) around the turn of the first century and martyred in Rome about AD 165—gives us one of the earliest detailed descriptions of how the Eucharist was celebrated following baptism (First Apology, 65–67). He explains that:

Silence and listening

How might our parish churches look like in 2050 #6

It seems to me that people hunger, thirst, and cry out inwardly simply to be heard — by someone, anyone, at some moment, in some way. A lack of opportunity, space, or means to be listened to lies at the heart of many personal and societal wounds. We carry so much within us, and often we do not even know the half of it.

The new passover

 

Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist #4

Picking up again on the Jewish roots of the Christian Eucharist the author, Brant Pitre, draws together several themes that have echoed through the Easter Triduum:

• The once‑for‑all sacrifice of Jesus on Good Friday – the true Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
• The meal of the Last Supper, where Jesus gives his Body and Blood “for you and for many.”
• The proclamation of a new covenant, sealed in Christ’s blood.
• The liberation of God’s people on the night of the Pasch or Passover.
• The real presence of God among His people, made sacramentally present in the Eucharist.

Mass crawling

 

A particular item screened on RTE television caught my attention the other day.  It featured three ‘lads’ who, instead of the traditional pub crawl at Christmas, went on a ‘Mass crawl’ beginning in November 2024.  They have managed to visit and attend the Holy Mass in over 50 places across counties Wicklow, Kildare, Carlow and further afield.  Make you want you wish from the item here. In the telling of the story I thought that were something decisively Emmaus-like (Luke 24:13-35) about this Eucharistic journey. They went as ‘two or three’ (Matthew 18:20) and not three separate individuals.  Was it a case of their thinking ‘Were not our hearts burning within us?’. 

Easter changes everything

 

Pic: Moira Lynott

Easter Sunday 5 April 2026

[see, also, Blog for Easter Saturday- Where O Death is your sting?]

Meditatio:

‘ but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead’ (Acts 10:40-41)

 Commentary: It was early in the morning - cold and dark. Something extraordinary awaited the two disciples. The Gospels differ in detail, but they agree on the essential truth: the tomb was empty, and Jesus, who had truly died, had truly risen. There was no CCTV, no forensic reconstruction, no modern reporting. What we have is the testimony of those who saw, heard, touched, and were changed. And that testimony has carried the Church for two thousand years.

Where O death is your sting?

Holy Saturday

Yesterday, there was a funeral in a local church. Someone remarked of the deceased, “It was nice to be buried on the same day as Jesus was.” True. And, death comes for each of us. But it is not the end. What marks us out as a people set apart is our conviction that Jesus truly rose from the dead and is risen still. We believe what the world often dismisses as fanciful. We hope for what many have long abandoned. Even now, in this “valley of tears,” we live in the gift of eternal light. The darkness is overcome by the Light of Christ.

As we reflect today on the Lord’s Passion, we wait with joyful expectation for the spark that will be lit at the Easter Vigil this evening. We can hardly wait for sunset, when we will taste and sense the joy of the Risen One on this holiest of nights. From a single flame, light will spread from candle to candle. We hear the Deacon or priest sing out the  great Exsultet which includes the following verses:

This is the night when Jesus Christ
broke the chains of death
and rose triumphant from the grave.

And again:

Accept this Easter candle,
a flame divided but undimmed,
a pillar of fire that glows to the honour of God.
Let it mingle with the lights of heaven
and continue bravely burning
to dispel the darkness of this night.

Whether just after sunset or just before, this is the moment we have been waiting for. Our song is one of triumph over death. Death does not have the last word. In our Easter Eucharist we proclaim Christ crucified and risen. He is in our midst, and we rejoice.

Some day the Easter candle lit on the previous Easter will be lit for our passing from this world.

Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)

Why is there no mass today?

 Good Friday.

There is only one day in the entire year when the Roman Catholic Church does not celebrate Mass. At first this may seem surprising. If Good Friday commemorates the death of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, why would the Church refrain from celebrating the Eucharist, especially since:

‘For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes’. (1 Cor 11:26) 

A threefold gift

 

Holy Thursday

The Easter Triduum opens with Holy Thursday. According to Catholic tradition — shared by Orthodox Christians and many high‑church Anglicans — this first day of the Triduum reveals a threefold gift at the heart of Christian life:

Waiting for the heavenly bread

 Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist #3

In the time of Jesus — as in every age — the Jewish people lived in hope. Many longed for a Messiah who would come in glory to liberate Israel: a prophet like Moses who would renew the covenant, lead the people forward, and even bring once more the manna from heaven. Some expected a royal figure who would reign over the nation and subdue its enemies.

Seeing the Eucharist through Jewish eyes

 

Picture: Ahawah Children's Home, Berlin; Passover Seder Table

Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist #2

Spiritually, we Christians are rooted in Jewish faith and spirituality. This can feel slightly disconcerting because it is difficult to disentangle the historical, tribal, and political threads that run through Jewish and Christian history. Yet one thing is clear: Jesus was Jewish—completely and faithfully so. The Gospels testify that He and His family observed the Law of Moses. In His teaching and His life, Jesus never allowed any legal precept to override the Great Commandment to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind (see Deuteronomy 6:5; Matthew 22:37). In this, He fulfilled the Law.

An important work (Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist #1)

 

Six years ago we were in the throws of the first ‘Covid lockdown’.  At this time I read a very interesting book entitled:

Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist – Unlocking the secrets of the Last Supper’ by Brant Pitre. 

A priest friend of mine had recommended the work of Pitre in 2019. I got around to reading the book and, on 4 May 2020, I wrote the following on the inside cover:

“I read this gem of a book over a period of weeks – a lot of it during the ‘lockdown’ of 2020 (Covid19).  The book is well written and easy to follow.  It allows gaps in which the reader may draw their own conclusions after reflection and prayer.  The author demonstrates, persuasively, the prefiguring of the Eucharist in the writings and lived experience of the Hebrew people. The Bread of Presence and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on Calvary are inextricably linked and grounded in scripture. I highly recommend this book. Take and read!”

In the coming days, I will review and reflect on a few key ‘takeaways’ in the book.

Holy Week and the Eucharist

 

File:Sunday mass at st Augustine Chapel.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Today is Palm Sunday, the doorway into Holy Week for Christians in the West. Much lies ahead in the liturgy, culminating in the greatest feast of the year – Easter. We follow a familiar pattern:

Why Mass?

 

An imaginary conversation:

Another: “Why go to Mass? None of my friends go. It is meaningless and irrelevant. Anyway, the Church is a completely discredited and misogynistic institution. Nobody should be supporting it by attending their rituals or encouraging any role for it in society”.

Offering our own prayers with the Mass

 

Last Wednesday, on the Solemnity of the Annunciation, I reflected on the wonderful mystery of the Incarnation and its inseparable link to the infinite value and dignity of every human being -  from conception to natural death. Today, I happened to come across an item: Pope backs “spiritual adoption of the unborn”. It resonated deeply with a practice I adopted some years ago: to choose one living person each day – known or unknown – and include that person in my morning offering, consciously uniting them to the offering of the Mass being celebrated anywhere in the world at that moment. One might even give that person a name.

Why this blog?

 

The Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life. It stands at the centre of our identity, our worship, and our belonging as a Eucharistic community. Yet for many, the Eucharist can seem like a strange ritual, disconnected from their experience, needs, or understanding.

What I’m trying to do in this series is to share my own understanding and experience, grounding it in Scripture, Catholic tradition, and the realities of the world we inhabit. In a fragmented culture marked by polarity, distance, noise, and confusion, I want to point to the Eucharist as the wellspring of hope, life, unity, and intimacy — the very things we thirst for.

This is not about nostalgia or longing for some imagined past. It is about renewal here and now, in a world crying out for justice, peace, and solidarity.

If these reflections help even one person, somewhere, at some moment, to pause and consider the mysteries explored in Bread for theJourney, that is consolation enough. I am grateful for the chance to offer something of value. I have received much, and I simply wish to share it.

We need to talk about Peter

 

Basilica of Saint Apollinare

Sunday 29 March 2026

 Palm Sunday

Lectio Divina:*

Isaiah 50:4-7 Psalm 22(21)

Philippians 2:5-11 Matthew 26:14 — 27:66

Meditatio:

‘And he went out and wept bitterly’  (Matthew 26:75))

Commentary:

To experience betrayal is a gutting experience. This is all the more when the one who betrayed us was, perhaps, the closest and most loved of persons.  To experience betrayal as one who has perpetrated betrayal is also a gutting experience. This is all the more when the one who does the betraying does it to the closest and most loved of persons. 

Preparing for Christmas

 

Adoracja z Niepokalanowa

You read that right.  Today, the feast of the Annunciation, marks the moment in time when God became one of us –  a unique human being beginning to unfold according to the laws of nature. To some, this seems like a crazy idea: that God would become something so small, so hidden, so apparently insignificant that many today would dismiss it as disposable tissue.

The forgotten sacrament

 

How our parish churches might look like in 2050 #7

A casual look at an old missal from my home parish in Dublin got me thinking.  It dates from the early 1980s and was published in the 1970s.  In the parish schedule printed inside the cover, it gives Mass and confession times.  In addition to confessions during masses on Saturday morning as well as on the evenings of the first Friday, a total of 3 hours put aside for the hearing of private confessions in that parish each and every Saturday - an hour and a half in the morning and an hour and a half in the evening.  At that time, three priests served a parish of very roughly 5,000 Roman Catholics.  Today, one priest serves a bigger population.

How might our parish churches look like in 2050 #6

 

The sanctuary is the focal point of the celebration of Mass. Three elements stand out: the Altar or table, the Ambo, and the Presider’s Chair. Each carries its own symbolism and meaning.

The Altar is the place where bread is taken, blessed, consecrated, broken, and given to the faithful. It is usually raised slightly so that it can be seen clearly, set apart from the rest of the sanctuary and the wider church.

Why Sunday matters #3

The Irish Catholic Bishops Conference issued a short but significant document last year entitled “Why Sunday Matters”.  This Sunday, I address the following question they posed:

Do we need to review Mass times or the number of weekend Masses?

The answer to that, I think, is patently obvious: yes! 

How might our parish churches might like like in 2050 #5

 

The Roman Catholic Church recognises seven sacraments. Most Christians agree that Baptism – the sacrament of initiation – and the Eucharist – the sacrament of unity – are foundational, and that the other sacraments, sacramentals, and rites flow from them. Every sacrament is an outward sign and a means of inward grace. In Baptism, water and oil form part of the celebration; in the Eucharist, bread and wine – which become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ – are essential.

How might our parish churches look like in 2050? #4

 

How do we make space for people in church?  Could we run an experiment in one parish in just one diocese?  A practical step for pastor and people might be to remove the fixed pews and introduce comfortable, upright chairs. These could be stacked neatly to the side when not needed. For Mass, the chairs could be arranged in a semi‑circle around a central communion table, creating a stronger sense of community, participation, and closeness.

How might our parish churches look like in 2050? #3

 

What is the first thing that catches your eye when you enter a Roman Catholic church? For many, it is the altar—and often the tabernacle. In older churches these were usually aligned on the same visual axis, the altar built into a retable that housed the tabernacle. Since the late 1960s, however, altars have been brought forward so the priest can stand behind them facing the people. In some churches the tabernacle was also moved, either to a side altar or to another clearly visible and dignified location. Where this happened, the altar naturally became the dominant feature on entering the church.

How might our parish churches look like in 2050 #2

 

To look forward we need to look back first.   It appears that most Roman Catholic Churches, in Ireland, were designed, constructed and laid out in the early to mid-19^th Century. It was a time of rising confidence and a thriving but small Irish middle class after the catastrophe of the famine years.  The long persecution of penal times largely ended with the Emancipation Act of 1829.  Some churches, including my own parish church here in Goresbridge, were built some years before official Emancipation.

Typically, rural churches or chapels were simple but functional laid out in a cruciform shape with the sanctuary in a small space at the Eastern end of the central nave or aisle.   There were statues of the Blessed Virgin Mary and often of the Sacred Heart of Jesus on the side altars to the right and to the left of the sanctuary, that is, in the North and South transepts. Devotional candles were a frequent sight. 

The best is yet to come

Sunday 22 March 2026

Ezekiel 37:12-14 Psalm 130(129)

Romans 8:8-11 John 11:1-45

“Lazarus, come out!” he cries in a loud voice.
“Unbind him, and let him go,” he commands.
breathe upon us with the power of your Spirit, that we may be raised to new life in Christ, and serve you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen

 Lectio Divina:*

Meditatio:  “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” (John 11:16)

 Commentary:

We stand before the sealed tomb with the two sisters of Lazarus, their much‑loved brother now dead and laid to rest. Jesus himself is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” and he weeps for his friend. It is a moment of suspense. What will happen next – and where do I stand in this story?

St Patrick helped bring the Eucharist to Ireland

What would Saint Patrick make of St Patrick’s Day in Ireland in 2026?  One thing is sure – faith in the living Christ is his message to us today. Although we do not find explicit references to the Eucharist in the two writings associated with his name – the Confessio and the Letter to the Soldiers of Coroticus – we can be sure that Patrick brought with him the Christian faith and the associated practices, understanding and established norms of the land from which he came. 

How might our parish churches look like in 2050? #1

 

In this and following blogs I explore some possible ideas for making better use of existing spaces in our churches. 

A word by way of context: as we are only painfully aware, Mass attendance is in freefall over recent decades, priests are ageing but here and there a few little green shoots of hope are sprouting up, unexpectedly.