Gratitude to my mother

 

Everyone has made their own journey of human development. Along the way we were nurtured physically, emotionally, culturally, linguistically and spiritually by our parents.  Twelve years ago on this day I said goodbye to my mother who had lived a good and long life.  Her quiet, unassuming and warm personality helped shaped my experience of childhood.  For her and, indeed, for most of her generation faith was a key part. And the practice of one’s faith was very much centred on the Mass. I am very grateful for that.  

Until He comes again

 

A great plague has infected the world: sadness, anxiety, division, hatred and despair have invaded many minds and hearts.  Atheism has taken hold. There is no God, it is claimed and there is no life after death.  Ultimately, our lives are deemed meaningless except in so far as we subjectively give it meaning, so they say.  And this stance means that for us there is no absolute right or wrong except what I think or what we think;  there is no ultimate reality or truth outside opinions, interpretations and self-determination. 

Honouring the gifts of creation

 

In the offertory of the mass the bread and wine are taken, blessed and offered. They are not, yet, consecrated.  This part of the Eucharist is particularly important because it links directly the temple liturgy of the Hebrews with the Christian Eucharist.  The early celebration of the Eucharist among Jewish Christians shaped the mass as we know it today. The Jewish table blessings - Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu – are incorporated into a new celebration initiated by the Lord Jesus at the Last Supper.

One reality - many names

 

The one sacrifice and memorial of the Lord’s passion and resurrection has many names:

Eucharist – eucharistein or giving thanks. 

Breaking of bread – found in many places of the New Testament including 1 Corinthians 11:24 (“and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’”).

Peace on earth starts in the human heart

 

Every part of the Mass echoes scripture from start to finish.  In the communion rite the Priest says:

Lord Jesus Christ, who said to your Apostles: Peace I leave you, my peace I give you…

This comes from John 14:27:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

Silence

 

Silence is increasingly rare in the noisy, fast‑moving spaces where we work, socialise, and even worship. Noise has its place when it carries good conversation, shared purpose, or lively activity. But it becomes a burden when we grow dependent on it—when every pause must be filled, every gap bridged, every quiet moment avoided.

Our liturgies, too, have become crowded with words. Jesus cautioned against multiplying words in prayer, yet the way we engage in Holy Mass often leaves little room for stillness. We feel compelled to speak – aloud or inwardly – and we hurry to fill every space. In doing so, we risk losing the eloquence of silence.

Living and dying

 

It is often said that the Irish “do death well.” A time of bereavement is usually marked by deep family and community support, and it is taken for granted that friends, neighbours, and extended family will show their respect for the deceased by attending the funeral Mass. In many other cultures, funerals are more private occasions, attended only by invitation. Not so in Ireland.