Given up for all

St Thomas More (1478–1535), whose feast day we mark today, was a martyr of the English Reformation. He is the patron saint of lawyers, statesmen and politicians. His memory was powerfully brought to life for a modern audience in the celebrated 1960s film A Man for All Seasons, in which he was portrayed by Paul Scofield.

Courage

12^th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

21 June 2026

Lectio Divina:

Jeremiah 20:10-13 Psalm 69

Romans 5:12-15 Matthew 10:26-33

Meditatio:

‘..Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.’ (Matthew 10:28)

Commentary:

This Sunday’s readings provide a rich set of resources.  I find them particularly apt for several reasons related to timing as well as the recent political context.  Let me ‘proclaim from the house-tops’ what I have heard in whispers. Let me ‘proclaim from the housetops’ what I have heard in whispers: today is The Day for Life. And, it is Father’s Day at least in this part of the world. One sentence in the statement on the Day for Life caught my attention in particular:

This understanding, however, is not complete without the recognition that, from the beginning, every human being is not just a body but also an immortal soul, with a unique and eternal connection with God, our Creator.

A common language of love

In the Eucharist, which Jesus himself gave to us, we are nourished, strengthened and equipped to continue our earthly journey toward the goal of eternal life with God. In this life we are given a foretaste of heaven.

In his recent ground-breaking encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo XIV opens by referring to the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1–9), presenting humanity as facing a pivotal choice:

to construct a new Tower of Babel or to build the city in which God and humanity dwell together.

Apostles of the Blessed Sacrament #1

One thousand years ago, a certain Saint Norbert (1080-1134) helped pioneer devotion to the Blessed Sacrament.  He is known as the Apostle of the Blessed Sacrament.  His deep personal devotion to the Eucharist including a regular offering of Mass and devotion of significant time to prayer at the altar enabled him to win hearts and minds.  His witness was highly significant at a time of disunity and disruption in the church. As an article published by the online resource aleteia.org said about him:

St. Norbert is traditionally depicted holding a monstrance, highlighting the deep devotion he had to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and his missionary zeal in proclaiming belief in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist.

Many other saints in the centuries that followed took his example.  Today, more than ever, we need apostles of the Eucharist who will witness to God’s love in the heart of the city.

An antidote to despair

 

A very strange feature of modern day Ireland is the extent of social problems that are linked to loneliness, isolation, depression and even despair.  What is particularly strange is that, as living standards, have increased over the decades, it seems that human happiness has not – at least not for everyone.  For sure, material goods do not guarantee security and happiness. We need more.

In the midst of an epidemic of loneliness and loss of hope we need a strong antidote. And, let it be acknowledged that even amongst the Christian faithful hope seems to be always under threat as the latest assault on human life, human dignity and human rights press in.  

We need to be strong. This is where, especially, the Eucharist is made for us at this time.

Why this Blog? - revisited

On 1 January I began this daily blog series – Bread for the Journey – with the intention of writing something relevant to the Eucharist and publishing it every day for the remainder of 2026.  So far, I have managed – with a little effort – to publish a reflection each day.  I am nearly half ways there in terms of my new year’s resolution.  It took, on average, a bit more time and preparation than I had thought; it also took me down avenues that I had not quite anticipated or planned.  It has been a personally rewarding experience as I explore and revisit my own personal journey with the Eucharist.

Questions of inter-communion

The question of who can receive Holy Communion in the Roman Catholic Church has raised much debate and, at times, conflict. The great sacrament of communion, which is the Eucharist, has, in the context of Christian division, been the occasion of exclusion and much suffering, especially, but not exclusively, among family members from different Christian traditions.

The Roman Catholic Church understands itself as the Church in which the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church professed in the Nicene Creed subsists. It does not simply state that it is that Church in an exclusive sense, but rather that the Church of Christ fully ‘subsists in’ the Roman Catholic Church, whose visible head is the Pope, the Bishop of Rome and successor of Saint Peter (Vatican II, Lumen Gentium 8).

Good news - bad news

Recently, an extract from the Gospel of Saint Luke was read at daily Mass. It was taken from Chapter 10, in which Jesus appointed ‘seventy others’ and ‘sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he himself intended to visit’.

Today, we are likewise called and sent as disciples of the Good News. Too often, we allow our minds and hearts to be coarsened by a constant stream of negativity and bad news, whether on mainstream media or across various social media platforms.

Love that sees and sends

Sunday 14 June 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Exodus 19:2-6 Psalm 100

Romans 5:6-11 Matthew 9:36-10:8   A picture in the Church of the Monastery of St Francis in Zadar city, Croatia

Meditatio:

‘..When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd’  (Matthew 9:36)

 

Commentary:

The setting of the story is Galilee where, in Matthew’s plan, Jesus’ teaching, healing, and preaching begin to establish the pattern for those who are called. Chapter 10 opens with the calling of those whom Matthew refers to as the Apostles (that is, ‘those sent’).

We need to be mindful of the context in which the very early Church developed. It was not a tightly-knit, canonically well-ordered structure with clearly defined roles and ministries. Rather, it was an evolving communion, spread across the lands of the eastern Mediterranean, gradually moving out from the holy land and flourishing under fierce opposition. It first took root mainly among the Jewish people and then increasingly among the Gentiles.

In the first reading from the Book of Exodus, the people are reminded of something easily forgotten:

I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.

Before there was covenant or law, there was initiative. God sees; God acts; God carries. The relationship begins with grace. The image is a precious one: God not only delivers, but lifts, protects, and draws his people into close relationship.

Psalm 100 echoes the same truth in familiar language:

Know that the Lord is God. It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture (v.3).

We belong before we achieve. In other words, we are claimed before we prove ourselves.

In the second reading, Saint Paul, in his Letter to the Romans, takes this further still. God’s love is not a response to goodness; it precedes it entirely:

God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.

That love is not abstract. It is poured out, given freely, even when unearned. Indeed, Paul speaks of God’s love being ‘poured into our hearts’ (Romans 5:5), suggesting not something distant, but something deeply personal and interior.

When we hear that language - love poured into the heart - we are reminded of that fountain of love: the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which whose feast day we marked last Friday. The love of God is not just an idea but a reality - burning, wounded, and poured out. The heart of Christ, aflame and pierced, is the sign of a love that holds nothing back. It represents both his humanity and his divine compassion, a love that enters fully into the suffering of the world.

In the Gospel, that same love becomes visible in a moment that is easily passed over. Jesus looks at the crowds - not from a distance, but with attention –

and he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd (v. 36)

 Jesus, in his heart, sees clearly, feels deeply and is moved to act. From compassion comes action and mission. He invites us now into that same mission:

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest (v. 38)

The people carried on eagles’ wings become a ‘kingdom of priests’; the sheep of the pasture become those who help gather others; and those who have received mercy become those who extend it.

The call to pray for more ‘labourers’ because the ‘harvest is plentiful’ is not to be interpreted narrowly, as though only ordained ministers or consecrated religious are called and sent to announce or live the Gospel. Yes, we need to pray for that too.  After all, no priests, no Eucharist or sacramental  absolution.

Every baptised Christian is called to live out their vocation fully and to witness to the love of God wherever they are. And if people speak out and act boldly in defence of racial justice at this time, we should not hesitate to speak out and act boldly in defence of all human rights. In doing so, we bear witness to Christ as the first disciples did.

  

Some extras:

Collect prayer (Roman Catholic missal of 1970)

God our Father, we rejoice in the faith that draws us together, aware that selfishness can drive us apart.  Let your encouragement be our constant strength. Keep us one in the love that has sealed our lives, help us to live as one family the gospel we profess. We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Post-Communion prayer (Roman Catholic missal of 1970)

Lord may this eucharist accomplish in our Church the unity and peace it signifies. Grant this through Christ our Lord.

Private prayer after Holy Communion

(from The Family Missal and Prayer Book of the Church of the Holy Spirit, Ballyroan, Dublin, 1976)

Lord Jesus, Good Shepherd, you felt sorry for the people who were harassed and dejected.  Master of the apostles, you have sent labourers into the harvest to bring your healing grace to men; and the harvest has been rich. Lord of the harvest send labourers today to continue your work among men so that all the children of God may be reconciled.

The triumph of the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the Eucharist

Adoracja z Niepokalanowa

Rounding off this succession of great celebrations - Easter, Pentecost, Trinity Sunday, Corpus Christi and the Sacred Heart of Jesus - today we mark the Memorial of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

The origins of this liturgical day stretch back over several centuries of Marian devotion. It was extended to the universal Church by Pope Pius XII in 1944, and later placed on the Saturday following the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart by Pope Saint Paul VI in the reform of the calendar in 1969, highlighting the union between the Heart of the Son and the Heart of his Mother.

Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Eucharist

Vision of Margaret Mary Alacoque,
Painted by Armand Cambon (1819-1885)

Today is the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  This major feast day was incorporated into the universal liturgical calendar of the Roman Catholic Church in 1856, almost two centuries after the private revelations to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. In those revelations, she reported that Jesus asked for a feast in honour of his Sacred Heart to be celebrated on the Friday after the great celebration of Corpus Christi. And so it is.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart spread throughout the world. It draws our attention to the human Heart of Jesus as the symbol of his total self-giving love. Typically, images of this devotion depict his Heart aflame with love for humanity - wounded and vulnerable, revealing the cost of our redemption.

A Johannine approach to the Eucharist

Source: here

We, too, can be transformed into bread broken for a world that hungers. Here is a short prayer based on a reading of the Gospel of John that I composed many years ago:

In the beginning was the Word
And the Word became flesh

And that flesh became bread;

Which has now become us

Broken for a united world

Returning to the source from it came

And so, after we come to the close of a long discourse in the sixth chapter of Saint John. Let’s recap on what we have heard, read and mediated in our hearts whenever we take the sixth chapter of Saint John into our hearts and minds:

Jesus feeds all of those who come to him (John 6:1-15)

The Harp of the Holy Spirit

Source: Celestial Choir

Yesterday, the feast of Saint Ephrem (the Syrian) was celebrated in the Roman Catholic Church. Saint Ephrem was a fourth‑century deacon and Doctor of the Church, and he is especially honoured in the Eastern (Syriac) tradition. Living in the eastern part of the Roman Empire (in what is now modern‑day Turkey), he emerged as a significant voice in defending the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy - the claim that Christ is not fully divine. Elements of this error have reappeared in different forms throughout history and continue to surface in various ways today.

Ephrem never became a priest or bishop. He remained a deacon and used his gifts in many ways, especially through the composition of beautiful hymns and poems, for which he is known as the ‘Harp of the Holy Spirit’. His ministry was expressed through teaching, preaching, and especially through his poetic and musical works. He is associated with the madrāšê (teaching hymns), which were performed by choirs -traditionally including women - with musical accompaniment such as the lyre. One tradition notes that women’s voices played an important role in this form of liturgical instruction, reflecting the dignity of their participation in the life of the Church.

Many of his hymns contain striking reflections on the Eucharist. In one of them he writes:

'In your bread is hidden the Spirit which cannot be eaten.
In your wine dwells the fire that cannot be drunk.
Spirit in your bread, fire in your wine:
it is a wonder that our lips have received!'
(Hymns on Faith, 10)

In common with many early Christian writers, Saint Ephrem did not produce a single systematic treatise on the Eucharist. Instead, he expressed its mystery through poetic and symbolic language. Images such as fire, Spirit, medicine, bread of life and nourishment point to the profound reality of Christ’s presence and the life‑giving grace communicated in the Eucharist.

Eucharist is a community sacrament

Over the centuries, the emphasis within the Christian life - and, within this, on the Eucharist - has shifted between communal and individual dimensions. From the fragmentary evidence available regarding liturgical practice in the early Irish or Celtic Church, it is reasonable to infer that the Eucharist was a central act of the community. This was certainly the case in monastic settings such as the island of Iona, where Saint Columba (Colmcille) lived after his departure from Ireland.

Words of life

At the end of the sixth chapter of John, we may locate ourselves within the scene: among the crowd, among the wider group of disciples, or among the Twelve closest followers of Jesus. The teaching is demanding. As many recognise, ‘This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?’  (John 6:60). Indeed, the passage bears the depth of reflection of the early Church, already living from the mystery of the Eucharist. Yet, whatever its historical development, Christians trust that Scripture is truly the Word of God, communicated through human witnesses under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

The scandal of eucharistic living

Corpus Christi

Sunday 7 June 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14-16 Psalm 147

1 Corinthians10:16-17 John 6:51-58

Meditatio:

‘..hose who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.’  (John 6:54)

 

Commentary:

In the 1986 film The Mission, set in South America in the 1750s, the Jesuit priest Fr Gabriel leads the people forward, carrying the monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament as a joint Portuguese–Spanish force opens fire. The brutal destruction of the people – and the falling of the monstrance – becomes a powerful cinematic image of Christ’s Body suffering in the poor and the oppressed. After Fr Gabriel is cut down, a small child picks up the monstrance and continues the procession. Only a handful escape into the jungle.

Witness, community, persecution, violence, death, scattering, remnant, and new life: flesh, bread, life.

'.....my flesh....'

 “I am the living bread,” declares Jesus in Jesus 6:51. What does this mean for us today?

Bread has always been a basic part of human life. Together with water, it sustains and restores the body. In this sense, bread is a sign of life itself. Yet Jesus reminds us that our lives are sustained by more than physical nourishment: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’ (Matthew 4:4).

We recognise this in our own experience. Our lives are nourished not only by food, but also by love, acceptance, truth, and relationships. Even within Scripture, the prophet Jeremiah speaks of God’s word as something to be ‘eaten’, a way of describing how deeply it can nourish and transform us from within (Jeremiah 15:16).

Corpus Christi – Then and Now: Ireland and Croatia

It has been many decades – perhaps four – since I last attended a Corpus Christi procession. That would have been in Dublin where I grew up. It was, typically, a regular annual event involving the local community: families and individuals processing along a public road from the parish church to a designated outdoor altar. Households were encouraged not only to attend, but also to decorate their homes – many putting up bunting or floral displays along the route.

The highlight was Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament at a public place prepared for the occasion. The atmosphere was solemn, joyful and dignified – a genuine expression of shared belief. For various reasons the practice largely died out in Ireland, probably towards the late 1980s.

Whom do I seek?

 

The Bread of Life is a painting by Michael Torevell 

Three serious questions are asked here.

What is it that I seek in life?

Where do I  find joy in my life right now?

Do I find joy in what I seek?

When, as we read in John 6:22-37, Jesus and his disciples saw the crowds looking for them on the other side of sea in the area of Capernaum they knew that the miraculous and the extraordinary had drawn them.  The people were seeking the miracle more than the sign that the evangelist, John, wishes to highlight.

Like the people who followed Jesus to the other side of the lake we can miss the Signs of God in our chaotic, broken but beautiful and mystery-laden world. We seek the wrong type of bread in the wrong sorts of places when the real bread of God’s word and loving sacramental presence is freely on offer. This is the true bread ‘come down from heaven’ and it is also freely available to those who seek and come to be nourished in the Sacrament.   Nobody can take this gift from us.

Walking on water

St Kizito being baptised by St Charles Source: wikimedia (Munyonyo Martyrs Shrine)

 
Today is a significant day in Uganda, when Christians remember the sacrifice of many who gave their lives for the faith in the 1880s, including Saint Charles Lwanga and his companions.

The Uganda Martyrs were 45 young Christian converts – both Roman Catholics and Anglicans – who were killed between 1885 and 1887 on the orders of Kabaka Mwanga II when they refused to compromise their faith.  Their witness became, as the Church has often said of martyrs, the seed of future conversions to the Gospel and the spread of Christianity in Uganda.

A hunger for truth, beauty and goodness

One of the most striking aspects of participating in the Eucharist – especially as one travels further east and south from Northern Europe – is the prominent role of music, chanting and art in the divine liturgy. A recent spell in Croatia has brought this home to me once again. As we move towards the liturgical solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi) this coming weekend, it is worth reflecting on the importance of the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St John. We will hear an extract from this chapter (John 6:51–58) proclaimed next Sunday.

Food for body and soul

In a previous blog, A second-century ceebration of the Mass, I considered the writings and witness of a very early Christian martyr, St Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165) whose feast day we celebrate today.  St Justin gives one of the earliest and clearest accounts of the Eucharist in which we receive not common bread and drink but the actual flesh and blood of Jesus. This transformation occurs in the Eucharist in the prayer of thanksgiving.  It is a gift to all baptised Christians who stand in unity with the core beliefs and teachings of the Christian community.  His descriptions place the Eucharist at the centre of the week on the Day of Resurrection. 

A Sunday without the Eucharist, in my view, makes no sense;  none.