Pilgrim progress- a disciple on a journey!

Jesus was on the bus today.   He got on the 46A at the stop at UCD. He scanned his bus pass and despite his advanced years, nimbly navigated the stairs to go to the upper deck, bag in hand.   As he passed, people began to swear at him, move away, open windows, put their own bags on the seat near them so he wouldn’t sit near them. He stank strongly of urine and his clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in months. “He shouldn’t have been let on the bus”, I hear a voice say behind me.   “He doesn’t look homeless”, another said.   “I’m going to be sick”, another said, as she rose, pressed the bell for the next stop and went down the stairs.  Jesus was on the bus. He was sat two seats away from me and all others had moved away from around him. Part of me wanted to turn around and say, ‘it’s okay’, the other part afraid to encounter the pain that might be in his eyes because of the reactions, the rejection and the judgement.   Another part of me...

On this third Sunday of Easter we have a Gospel which many of us are very familiar with. There is the temptation to skip to the end and summarize. Okay, Peter betrayed Jesus three times, now the Lord asks him three times ‘do you love me?’ Reading in modern English, you may not get much out of it. However, if you look at the passage in the original Greek, it does make a difference. Basically, there are two different words translated as ' LOVE ' in this passage. It may help to put the two original Greek words in place of the English words in the same 3 verses above. Notice the changes below: John 21: 15 So when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you agapao me more than these?" He said to Him, "Yes, Lord; You know that I phileo You." He said to him, "Tend My lambs." (note the two different verbs used by Jesus and Peter) 16 He said to him again a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you ag...

My Dad's garden Not a cry of distress but a reminder of a feastday we have today in Ireland- May Day. Today my Dad is on my mind a lot. I was thinking back to the years in primary schools where we prepared May altars religiously. My Dad was a brilliant gardener and had a beautiful garden, however we weren’t allowed to pick the flowers that often! One of those few occasions was for the school May Altar when it was ‘our turn’ to bring the flowers. I was always so proud to bring in that big bunch of red homegrown roses, purple lupin, bright orange marigolds, pretty forget-me-nots, vibrant dahlias and pure white lilies. Not only did they look beautiful but the perfume would fill the classroom and the other teachers who popped in would all comment on the beautiful flowers! I remember other times when the younger kids from the neighbourhood would try and ‘borrow’ some flowers. My Dad, possessive as he was of his hybrid roses, would give in and often snip one off and g...

There is absolutely nothing we can do on Holy Saturday, and that is the point. It is a day of desolation and nothingness, a day of darkness and utter emptiness. The day is and should be the most calm and quiet day of the entire Church year, a day broken by no liturgical function. Christ lies in the grave, the Church sits near and mourns. After the great battle He is resting in peace, but upon Him we see the scars of intense suffering. The mortal wounds on His Body remain visible.  There is nothing to do now except wait… and waiting is the hardest part in this digital and instant age. Holy Saturday is the silent pause between what we have done and what God will do – what only God can do. On this day God is silent, yet God is still at work. Scripture tells us Holy Saturday is the day Christ descended and ministered to those in Hades, or the place of the dead. This is not a trivial or side matter, which is why “He descended to the dead” finds mention in the Apostles’ Creed. Christ...

“Lord, we know that every journey begins with a first step. Be with us as we take another step in our Lenten journey and a step towards the Triduum. We began this journey with the sign of ashes on our forehead, reminding us that this is no ordinary walk. We move one step forward in the promise of your light. We seek new meaning in the Easter that awaits us all. But first, we must walk with you to Jerusalem, to Calvary, to the Tomb and beyond. We ask for the courage and the grace that we need to be committed pilgrims along the Calvary Way. We make this prayer through Christ our Lord. AMEN.” As we draw near to the end of Lent, it’s fitting to think about the journey we make during this Holy Week. Holy Week is holy, first and foremost, because of all Jesus Christ did during this week, from the triumphal entry into his city on Palm Sunday, to his teaching in the Temple, to the Last Supper, to his prayer in Gethsemane, to his arrest, torture, crucifixion and death on Good Friday...

Artist: Ladislav Záborský   Transfiguration For that one moment, in and out of time, On that one mountain where all moments meet, The daily veil that covers the sublime In darkling glass fell dazzled at his feet. There were no angels full of eyes and wings, Just living glory full of truth and grace. The love that dances at the heart of things Shone out upon us from a human face. And to that light the light in us leaped up, We felt it quicken somewhere deep within, A sudden blaze of long-extinguished hope Trembled and tingled through the tender skin. No can this blackened sky, this darkened scar, Eclipse that glimpse of how things truly are. (Malcolm Guite)

Like so many Christian feasts, St Patrick’s Day has been somewhat hijacked. St Patrick has about as much to do with a pint of Guinness as St Valentine has to do with a box of chocolates and a romantic meal for two. But what does this saint, so strong in missionary zeal and about whom we know very little, have to do with our modern day celebrations? The answer comes from the Confessio itself. In the very opening paragraphs of the autobiography, St Patrick offers a meditation on the gift of faith and the praise that we owe in return to God for such a gift. Perhaps this is St Patrick’s greatest relevance, particularly in a culture that seems increasingly hostile to declarations of faith. He refuses to stay quiet; his evangelising zeal comes from knowing that he must speak to others of Christ: “That is why I cannot be silent – nor would it be good to do so – about such great blessings and such a gift that the Lord so kindly bestowed in the land of my captivity. This is how we can repay s...