Year C – 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Photographer

 (Jer.17:5-8; 1Cor.15:12, 16-20; Lk.6:17, 20-26)

Sometimes, the things we ignore or neglect turn out to be precious.

Years ago in Prague, my wife and I discovered an amazing puppet shop, full of colourful marionettes of all shapes and sizes, hanging on strings and sitting on shelves.

In one corner, under a chair, I spied a statue, looking dusty and unloved. This was no puppet; it was a very unusual Madonna and child. ‘I’d forgotten about her,’ the shopkeeper said, ‘She’s been there for years.’

We happily brought her home, and now she belongs to our very special Madonna collection.

Yes, what people overlook or reject in life can often be valuable. That’s a message we can take home from Luke’s Gospel today.

Jesus is giving his Sermon on the Plain to a large crowd near the Sea of Galilee. They’ve all suffered in some way, and they’re looking for hope. So, Jesus tells them that certain things our world doesn’t care about, including poverty, hunger and tears, are actually God’s greatest concerns.

He says, ‘Blessed are you who are poor, blessed are you who are hungry, blessed are you who weep, and blessed are you when people hate you…’ These people are blessed because God loves them, and one day they will inherit God’s kingdom.

But the reverse is also true. The things that our world madly craves, like fortune, food, fun and fame, are of little interest to God. That’s why Jesus says, ‘Woe to you rich, woe to you who have your fill, woe to you who laugh, and woe to you when the world loves you.’

His point is that selfish indulgence has no place in heaven.

But how can poverty, hunger or tears possibly be a good thing?

Rolleicord Twin Lens Reflex Film Camera Image High Quality image 1

Megan McKenna tells the story of a photographer taking photos of human catastrophes for a new book. In the 1980s, this photographer was in Ecuador, which had been hit by torrential rain, landslides and starvation. Several relief organisations flew in plane-loads of food, including corn, milk, rice and fruit.

He set himself up with his camera on a main street, crowded with people looking tired, sick and hungry. They’d lost their homes and possessions; some had lost relatives and even whole families.

He noticed one young girl, aged nine or ten. She was thin and straggly, hair matted and clothes torn. She was waiting in line with hundreds of others for food.

As she waited patiently in line, she was also looking out for three younger children, huddled under a large bush to avoid the hot sun. Two boys, aged five and seven, and a girl aged three. The young girl’s attention was divided between watching them and keeping her place in the queue as it snaked towards the food trucks.

The line seemed endless as the food started running out, and the aid workers became anxious. The young girl didn’t notice, however. She just watched her charges from a distance. Then after many hours in the sun, she finally made it to the front of the line. But all she received was a banana.

One banana.

Julie Anne Smyth - Digital painting Banana

Her reaction stunned the photographer. First her face lit up in a beautiful smile. She took the banana and bowed to the aid worker. Then she ran to the children under the bushes and very carefully peeled it, splitting it evenly into three pieces and placing one piece into the palm of each child. Together they bowed their heads and said a blessing. Then they slowly chewed their banana pieces, while she sucked on the peel. 

The photographer wept uncontrollably, and forgot about his camera and why he was there. He began to question not only himself and what he was doing, but also everything he took for granted and his assumptions about the world. He watched the girl and later said that in that moment he saw the face of God, shining.

He’d been given a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven through a poor street child who was rich in love, generosity and beauty, in spite of her poverty and hunger, and in spite of the politics of greed, profit and human indifference.

He never did take a picture of that girl, or the other children. But her face and smile are etched forever in his memory and soul. [i]

‘Woe to you who are rich, woe to you who have your fill, woe to you who laugh, and woe to you when the world loves you,’ Jesus says.

Why? It’s because God isn’t interested in these things.

God’s first priority is the poor and hungry, and those who weep and suffer from hate.


[i] Megan McKenna, Luke: The Book of Blessings and Woes. New City Press, New York.2009:90-91.

Year C – 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

 A Leap in Small Steps

[Is.6:1-8; 1Cor.15:1-11; Lk.5:1-11]

Today is Word of God Sunday. Pope Francis instituted this celebration in 2019, to highlight the 10th Anniversary of Verbum Domini – Pope Benedict’s landmark document on ‘The Word of God’.

It also marks the 1600th anniversary of the death of St Jerome, who first translated the Bible from Greek into Latin. [i]

Of course, the Bible is important every day. But in instituting this celebration, Pope Francis is encouraging us all to promote the Sacred Scriptures and to help others appreciate their extraordinary riches.

The Bible, of course, is not just a storybook. It’s a constant dialogue between God and his people, as relevant today as ever. It’s the door that leads us into the life of Christ, offering a profound sense of meaning and purpose. It’s full of wisdom, detailing God’s extraordinary love for us, and it teaches us how to live the life that really does lead to heaven.

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But to get the most out of God’s Word, we must read it prayerfully, with loving hearts and open minds.

Let’s look, for example, at our reading from Luke’s Gospel today. To some, this is just a story about fishing, but it’s really about how we enter the spiritual life. For those of us who wonder why it takes so long for some people to accept Jesus, this passage can be especially helpful.

Jesus is teaching on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and Peter and his friends are nearby, listening to Jesus while cleaning their fishing nets. But Jesus needs a better platform to teach from, so he approaches Peter, seeking to use his boat.

Peter, however, is reluctant; he’s tired and hardly knows Jesus. But Jesus did cure his mother-in-law, so he agrees, and Jesus borrows his boat.

Sometime later, Jesus asks Peter to go fishing once again. But now Peter is really hesitant. He’s been fishing all day and caught nothing, but he does respect Jesus, so he agrees, reluctantly. He goes out into the deep, drops his nets and catches so many fish that he’s astonished.

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Peter is in awe of Jesus, and thinks, ‘I don’t deserve this’. He starts to feel unworthy and says, ‘Go away from me Lord, for I’m a sinful man’.

The boat almost sinks and the men are scared. But Jesus reassures them, and when they return to shore Jesus calls them to become his disciples. ‘From now on’, he says, ‘you’ll be fishers of men’.

This story mirrors life for so many of us, for it reveals how Christian conversion can be a slow, gradual process involving several steps.

It begins by us simply observing, watching what’s happening from a distance – just like Peter. Then it involves listening to what’s being said, and allowing it to move our hearts.  After that, it involves gradually accepting small commitments within our comfort zone, helping here and there.

Then we’re amazed when the call becomes specific and deeply personal, and something powerful happens inside us. We start to feel unworthy, even sinful, and perhaps even scared. But then we’re reassured. And that’s followed by acceptance, and finally, a deep and personal commitment to Jesus.

These are the steps we all typically go through in the process of conversion, as we gradually enter the life of Jesus Christ. For some people, this process can take a lifetime. The actor John Wayne, for example, converted on his deathbed.

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But even the greatest saints, like St Paul and St Francis of Assisi, went through a process of conversion. For St Paul it was remarkably quick, but for St Francis it took years.

St Francis was initially a likeable but spoilt young man who enjoyed partying. But then he recognised the emptiness of his life and started to feel guilty. This encouraged him to open up his heart and mind, and gradually, step-by-step, he came to discover and welcome Jesus into his life.

The leap from where we are today to where God wants us to be may be huge; that’s why Jesus takes us through the journey in small steps. Thankfully, God is patient and loving, and encourages us to grow gradually.

Importantly, he’s given us the Scriptures to guide us on our way.

St Thomas Aquinas once said that our love for God is ultimately not love for a Creator, Judge or Father; it’s love for a friend. We develop our relationship with God the same way we develop other human friendships. It takes time and a series of adjustments as our love grows and our commitment becomes deeper.

We can see all this in the Bible; it’s God’s love letter to us.

The way to read it is prayerfully, with loving hearts and open minds.


[i] https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/motu_proprio/documents/papa-francesco-motu-proprio-20190930_aperuit-illis.html

Year C – 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Tug of War

(Jer.1:4-5, 17-19; 1Cor.12:31-13:13; Lk.4:21-30)

I once knew a man who was a very successful businessman. He was successful because he was ruthless and always put his own interests first. ‘When I negotiate,’ he once admitted, ‘I can be as hard as a rock. It doesn’t matter who I’m dealing with.’

Yet he also considered himself a Christian. He sometimes went to church, gave to charity, and loved showing off his photos, taken with famous church leaders.

I’ve often wondered how he slept at night, for he’d surely hurt many people.

This story’s not uncommon. Many of us today find ourselves caught in a spiritual tug of war, torn between the selfish ways of our society and the call of our faith. We want to do well in this world, but we also want to be good people.

Richard Rohr says that there are always two worlds. There’s the ordinary world around us which is largely about power. And then there’s the world as it should be, or the Reign of God, which is always about love.

He says that conversion is almost entirely about moving from one world to the next and yet having to live in both worlds at once. And he points out that power without love can lead to brutality and evil. [i]

St Paul says something about this in our second reading today. The Corinthian church which he established had many talented members, but they came from very different backgrounds and often quarrelled with each other.

St Paul tells them that there’s an essential link between faith and love, for it’s pointless saying we love someone if our actions don’t match our words. Indeed, whatever we do, he says, if it’s without love, then it’s ultimately empty and worthless. And regardless of our talents, if we have no love, then we’re nothing.

Paul thinks they don’t understand love, so he describes it for them in 15 different ways, explaining what love is, and what it’s not: ‘Love is always patient and kind; it’s never jealous; it’s never boastful or conceited; it’s never rude or selfish …’ he writes.

But his key point is that love isn’t just a feeling; it’s a conscious decision. And love between two people can only last if they behave in ways that strengthen the relationship, and not weaken it.

What is love? Love is patient, love is kind. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

These words from St Paul are some of the most beautiful ever written about love. Most of us have heard them before, especially at weddings.

But do we actually live by them? Let’s revisit verses 4-8, and see if the words apply to ourselves:

I’m always patient; I’m always kind; I’m never jealous; I don’t boast; I’m not proud; I’m never rude or selfish; I don’t get angry; I’m not resentful. I take no pleasure in other people’s sins; I always rejoice in the truth; I’m always ready to forgive, to trust, to hope and to endure whatever comes.

Do these words describe you? If not, would you like them to?

The problem for many of us is that we love the idea of love, but we also like putting ourselves and our own interests first. And we’re reluctant to change.

St Thomas Aquinas once said that love is in the mind, in the will and in the decisions we make. It’s not just a feeling.

In fact, love cannot just be a feeling. As Richard Rohr points out, Jesus commands us to love, and you can’t command feelings.

Jesus doesn’t say, love when you get healed. He doesn’t say, love when you grow up. He doesn’t say, love when you feel loving. And he doesn’t say, love when you get it together and have dealt with all your problems.

No, Jesus says love one another as I have loved you (Jn.13:34-35). The commandment for all of us is to love now and so fill the tragic gaps of every moment. [ii]

Love, therefore, is a decision, not a feeling, and as Christians it’s also our obligation.

All of this is certainly a challenge. We’re all caught up in a spiritual tug of war, pulled from one side to the other. Ultimately, though, what we’re experiencing is the struggle between heaven and hell, and we need to choose.

Huston Smith, in his book The Soul of Christianity, says that just as scripts are not plays and music is not music until it’s performed, so our Christian faith really isn’t faith until we start performing as genuine Christian disciples. [iii]

And how do we perform our Christian faith?

By making the decision to love, even when we don’t feel like it.


[i] Richard Rohr, Yes, And …, Franciscan Media, Cincinatti, 2013, p.167.

[ii] Op cit., p.15.

[iii] Huston Smith, The Soul of Christianity. HarperSanFrancisco, 2005:154.

Year C – 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Answering Prayers

(Neh.8:2-6, 8-10; 1Cor.12:12-30; Lk.1:1-4; 4:14-21)

In today’s Gospel, Luke addresses his words to someone named Theophilus. In Greek, Theophilus means ‘one who loves God’. But we’re all people who love God, so Luke is also addressing his Gospel to us.

Luke says that he has worked hard to double-check everything he’s heard about Jesus, so we can be sure that his Gospel is accurate.

Then he tells us about Jesus’ first public appearance after his baptism. Jesus is back home in Nazareth ‘with the power of the Spirit in him’. It’s the Sabbath, and he’s in the synagogue when someone hands him a scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Jesus selects a passage about the coming of the Messiah, and as he reads it, it’s clear that he’s reading about himself. 

Using Isaiah’s words, Jesus spells out the mission he’s about to begin. He says that his Father has sent him to bring good news to the poor; to proclaim liberty to captives; to help the blind to see; and to free the oppressed.

This is good news for anyone who’s suffering, because Jesus is offering real hope, healing and liberation. But this isn’t just about other people; it’s also about us, because we’re all to some extent poor, or enslaved, or blind, or oppressed. We all need hope, healing and liberation. 

Now, some people think that all God has to do from here is to wave his magic wand and give us all the miracles we need. But that’s generally not how he works. Most of the time, God works through ordinary men and women, just like us.

When we open ourselves up to God, his Holy Spirit starts working in us, gently guiding our hearts, minds and wills, and influencing our thoughts and actions. God uses us to help other people, often when we’re unaware.

Some years ago, a priest working as a hospital chaplain made a mistake and entered the wrong room. An old woman was lying on the bed, and he started talking to her. But she didn’t respond; she just glared at him. Eventually, he realised his mistake, apologised and left.

A little later, he received a note asking him to return. That lady couldn’t speak, so he asked her many questions until he came to the one she responded to: ‘Do you want to be baptised?’

He baptised her right away, and promised to return. But a few hours later, he received another note saying that she’d died.

That chaplain had not entered the wrong room. The Holy Spirit had sent him there to answer that lady’s prayer. [i]

Here’s another story. Jim Caviezel, who portrayed Jesus in Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ (2004), was very nervous at the start of his acting career.

In 1997, he drove up to the house of Terrance Malick, the film director, to talk about an acting role. He was terrified. Before going inside, he sat in his car and prayed the Rosary, asking God for courage.

As he walked to the front door, he noticed that he was still holding his Rosary beads. He considered returning them to his car, but something told him to keep them.

A little maid answered the doorbell, and on her neck was a miraculous medal.

Without thinking, he held out his Rosary and said, ‘This is for you, ma’am.’ She was startled and said, ‘Why did you do that?’ She started to cry.

He replied, ‘I don’t know.’

‘My God!’ she said, ‘the woman who gave me this medal – the miraculous medal of the Virgin Mary – also gave me a rosary she got from Mother Teresa. But I lost it, and I prayed that God would send me another. Then you walk in.’

As she cried, and Caviezel felt shell-shocked, the director appeared. ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ he asked. This was no maid, Caviezel realised. It was Malick’s wife. 

The Holy Spirit had answered their prayers: Mrs Malick received a new Rosary and Caviezel got his first major acting role, in the movie The Thin Red Line. [ii]

In our second reading today, St Paul tells us that as Christian disciples, we are all members of the Body of Christ. This idea of the Body of Christ isn’t just a nice metaphor; it’s how God works in the world today.

It’s through us, as the members of the Body of Christ, that God answers prayers today, offering hope, healing and liberation to all who need it (Jn.14:12).

But he can’t do it without our help. As St Teresa of Avila reminds us, ‘Christ has no body now but yours, no hands but yours, no eyes but yours …’

What is the Holy Spirit asking of you today?


[i] Diane Laux, Illustrations of the Holy Spirit, Liguorian, December 2016. https://www.liguorian.org/illustrations-holy-spirit/

[ii] https://www.churchpop.com/2019/06/23/jim-caviezel-rosary-hollywood/ 

Year C – The Epiphany of Our Lord

Star of Wonder

[Is.60:1-6; Eph.3:2-3, 5-6; Mt.2:1-12]

The stars at night have always been fascinating. In every age and every culture, astronomers have studied the stars closely, trying to reveal their secrets.

One thing these stargazers learnt is that the North Star is always in the same place, day and night. It’s not the brightest star, but its location never changes, so it became an important guidepost for sailors, pilgrims and other travellers.

Even runaway slaves in America followed the North Star in their flight to freedom in the 1800s. They called their escape route the Underground Railroad, and they memorised what they had to do in a song, Follow the Drinking Gourd.[i]

Vincent van Gogh, The Starry Night – Smarthistory

So, it’s not surprising that for many people, the stars came to symbolise hope, inspiration and new life.

There’s a star in Matthew’s Gospel today, but it’s not the North Star. It’s the Star of Bethlehem and it comes from the east. It, too, is a symbol of hope, inspiration and new life.

The Magi are widely believed to have been astrologers from around Persia, for they knew that this star signalled something important. That’s why they loaded up their camels and followed it for 1,000 kilometres or so, until they found baby Jesus, the ‘bright morning star’, swaddled in a manger (Rev.22:16).

There in Bethlehem, these Wise Men worshipped Jesus, they gave him their precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, and then they returned home.

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For most people, this is where the story ends. But there’s much more to it than that, because as Bishop Robert Barron tells us, this story really spells out for us what it means to search for God in our world today.

Let’s look at the story once again.

In the beginning, the Magi constantly study the sky, looking for signs of God’s purpose and meaning. And so it is with us: we must always be spiritually alert, looking for signs of what God is doing around us in our daily lives.

Then, once they find that star, the Magi decide to follow it, despite the long journey and all its discomforts.

Sometimes people today know what God wants them to do, but they do nothing about it. Perhaps it’s fear or laziness stopping them, but the Magi teach us to take action when God calls.

Next, when the Magi speak to Herod about the birth of a new King, he becomes sneaky and tries to use them to destroy the child. When we walk the path God sets for us, we too should expect opposition, because our world does not value Jesus at all. It’s always working to undermine him.

Then, the Wise Men arrive in Bethlehem and give Jesus their precious gifts. When we come to Christ, we, too, should open up the very best of ourselves and offer it to him. And remember this: our gifts of trust, love and worship are far more valuable to Jesus than gold, frankincense and myrrh.

And finally, the Magi return to their home country by another route. As Fulton Sheen once commented: of course they did, for no one comes to Christ and goes back the same way they came! [ii]

These Magi are called Wise Men for good reason: they can see what others, including King Herod and the Jewish leaders, cannot. They know that something mystical is happening, and they do something about it. They leave home and discover the source of all wisdom and joy. 

Today, we have GPS and other technology to guide us in our travels, but they won’t get us far in our spiritual journey.

Like the Wise Men, we need to follow the one star that really does represent hope, inspiration and new life. That star is Jesus Christ.

Sadly, many of us get distracted and miss Jesus’ divine light, just as we might miss the soft light of the North Star. But when we look, we find that Jesus is always there: a constant beacon guiding us through the twists and turns of daily life; a lighthouse drawing us safely towards eternal salvation.

Let’s close with a story. Charles Blondin (1824-97) was a French acrobat who famously crossed Niagara Falls on a tightrope some 300 times. In all, it’s said that he walked 10,000 miles on tightropes, and sometimes he even took a bike or a wheelbarrow with him. How did he achieve this? What was his secret?

Blondin had very good balance and lots of self-confidence, but he also always placed a large silver star at either end of his tightrope. Every time he crossed over, he fixed his eyes firmly on that star. He knew where he was going. [iii] [iv]

We, too, need to fix our eyes firmly on the bright morning star, Jesus Christ.

Jesus will guide us safely to where we’re going.


[i] https://www.baltimoresun.com/news/bs-xpm-1997-01-26-1997026180-story.html

[ii] Bishop Robert Barron, Online Commentary on Matthew 2:1-12, 2021, adapted.

[iii] https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-daredevil-of-niagara-falls-110492884/

[iv] https://www.spiritequip.com/blog-10/follow-the-focus

Year C – Christmas Day

A Very Grinchy Christmas

(Is.62:1-5; Acts 13:16-17, 22-25; Mt.1:18-25)

Merry Christmas! Today is such a special day. So many people are smiling and feeling good inside.

But what is Christmas all about? This is a good time to ask ourselves: What is Christmas all about?

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When we look around our city, it’s easy to think that Christmas is all about gifts and Santa and fairy lights. 

That’s what the Grinch thought. He hated Christmas. Have you seen the movie How the Grinch Stole Christmas? [i] The Grinch is a green, hairy and cranky beast who lives on a rubbish dump called Mt. Crumpit, outside the town of Whoville. 

Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot …
But the Grinch, who lived … just north of Whoville, did not!
The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

One night the Grinch decides to stop Christmas from coming to Whoville.  He steals everyone’s Christmas gifts and things. He packs his sled up … 

… with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!
Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit,
He rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it!

The Grinch laughs, and he expects everyone to be miserable when they wake up. But then he hears a sound …

It started in low. Then it started to grow.
But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so! But it was merry! Very!
He stared down at Whoville! The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!
Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same! …

‘It came without ribbons! It came without tags!’
‘It came without packages, boxes or bags!’
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!
‘Maybe Christmas,’ he thought, ‘doesn’t come from a store.’
‘Maybe Christmas … perhaps … means a little bit more!’

The Grinch feels all toasty inside and his heart starts to melt. He realises that the people of Whoville still care about Christmas, even without their Christmas things. Before, his heart was two times smaller. Now it’s three times bigger! 

He decides to return all their Christmas things, and they have a happy Christmas after all. [ii]

Now, what about you? What does Christmas mean to you? Is it the presents, the ribbons, the colourful wrappings? Is it the tags, the tinsel, the trimmings and trappings?

Or does Christmas mean more than that?

Dr Seuss’ story of the Grinch has an important message for us. Christmas isn’t about the trimmings and the trappings. It’s not about the presents. These things are nice, but they’re not important.

As the Grinch says, many of those things will just end up on the rubbish dump, anyway.

Christmas is all about Jesus, the Son of God who is the source of all love. When Jesus was born, he didn’t need all the trimmings or trappings. All he had was Mary and Joseph, and they were really poor. But they were happy.

Remember that this Christmas. To be happy, all you need is your loving family, your friends – and Jesus. 

So, make sure you invite Jesus into your home and hearts this Christmas Day. 

And please ask him to stay,
for much more than a day.

Indeed, why not invite him to stay forever!


[i] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbFma8Bd-AI

[ii] Dr Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. HarperCollins Children’s Books, London, 2010.

Year C – 4th Sunday of Advent

Weak, Lost and Broken

(Jer.33:14-16; Thess.3:12-4:2; Lk.21:25-28, 34-36)

In 2017, at the end of an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, England, a bomb exploded, killing 22 people and injuring 120.

Who was the first responder on the scene? It was a homeless man, Stephen Jones. He’d been sleeping outside when the bomb went off. But when he heard people screaming, he rushed in to help. He’d had no medical experience, but he soon found himself pulling nails out of arms and faces. [i]

Sometimes God works through the most unlikely people.

Today, if something important needs doing, most of us want someone well qualified to do it. But God is different. Throughout history, he has consistently chosen weak, lost and broken people to do his work.

Abraham, for example, was already old when God asked him to be the father of many nations (Gen.17:1-2). Moses was a murderer and had a bad stutter, but God still asked him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt (Ex.2:12; 4:10).

St Paul had cruelly persecuted Christians (Acts 8:3); St Camillus de Lellis (1550-1614) was a gambler;[ii] and Matthew Talbot (1856-1925) was a drunk. Yet God still used them all to achieve great things.

Why does God choose such unlikely people? It’s because everyone is in some way weak, lost or broken. No-one is perfect.

But that doesn’t matter, because no-one has to be especially well-qualified, or holy, to do God’s work. With God, all things are possible (Mt.19:26).

God knows our flaws (Ps.103:14), but he believes in us. We often think we’re unworthy, but God knows better.

Very often, it’s our weaknesses that initially draw us to God, when we recognise that we’re struggling. But when we do turn to God, and agree to co-operate with him, he turns our weakness into strength (Heb.11:32-34).

In Manchester, Stephen Jones’ weakness was his homelessness. But it became a strength, for he was in the right place at the right time to help the victims. St Paul understands this. That’s why he says, ‘I take pleasure in my weaknesses, for when I’m weak, then I am strong’ (2Cor.12:10).

When we recognise our own weaknesses, we discover that it’s only by God’s grace that we can do anything at all. And if we’re honest, we know we can’t boast because any glory really belongs to God (2Cor.4:7).

In Luke’s Gospel today, Mary is pregnant with Jesus, and goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth in the hill country outside Jerusalem. Elizabeth is pregnant, too, with John the Baptist.

Neither of these women is a likely candidate for the job God has for them. Even Mary thinks she’s unsuitable (Lk.1:34), for how can she possibly raise the son of God when she’s not yet married? She’s a poor, illiterate teenager living a hard life in an obscure town. She spends most of her time carrying water, collecting wood, preparing food and washing.

Her cousin Elizabeth is also an unlikely choice (Lk.1:43). She’s childless and elderly, and lives modestly in a tiny village. But God wants her to be the mother of the greatest of the prophets, John the Baptist.

The point about these two women is that they didn’t do what so many of us tend to do. They didn’t say no to God; they didn’t tell him to find someone more suitable. Despite their fears, Mary and Elizabeth both said yes and their lives were transformed.

In 1978, in Rome, during the elections for a new pope to replace John Paul I, a young Polish cardinal, Karol Wojtyla, seemed to be winning. He was worried and he turned to his mentor, Cardinal Wyszynski of Warsaw.

Wyszynski reminded him of the story of St Peter in the novel Quo Vadis, where Peter was escaping from danger in Rome and Jesus challenged him to stay.

‘Accept it’, Wyszynski said.

At the end of the ballot, Karol Wojtyla was asked, ‘Do you accept?’  He replied, ‘In the obedience of faith before Christ my Lord, abandoning myself to the Mother of Christ and Church, and conscious of the great difficulties, I accept’.[iii]

That nervous young cardinal became Pope St John Paul II.

A simple ‘yes’ really can change the world.

Every saint who has ever lived has been very human, just like us. [iv] They were all at some stage weak, lost or broken. But they found themselves drawn towards God’s love and they chose to co-operate with him.

God isn’t put off by our flaws. He says to us, as he said to St Paul: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’ (2Cor.12:9).

In these last few days before Christmas, as we wait for Jesus to arrive, what is God asking you to do?


[i] https://edition.cnn.com/2017/05/23/europe/homeless-man-manchester-attack/index.html

[ii] https://www.franciscanmedia.org/saint-of-the-day/saint-camillus-de-lellis

[iii] George Wiegel, Witness to Hope, HarperCollins NY, 1999:253-254.

[iv] https://aleteia.org/2016/08/24/5-saints-who-were-notorious-sinners/#

Year C – 3rd Sunday of Advent

Blessed Charles de Foucauld

(Zeph.3:14-18; Phil.4:4-7; Lk.3:10-18)

In last week’s Gospel, John the Baptist told everyone to get ready, because the Messiah is coming. In today’s Gospel, the people ask John, ‘Master, what should we do?’ 

Yes, what should we do? For Jesus Christ really is coming.

To answer that question, let’s consider the story of Blessed Charles de Foucauld. [i]

Charles was born in 1858 into an aristocratic family in France. But like so many other people, his life didn’t start off too well.

When he was six, Charles’ parents died and his grandfather raised him. But he became vain and selfish and so overweight that his friends called him ‘Piggy’. His grandfather got him into the army, but they found him troublesome.

Charles later inherited his grandfather’s fortune, but he squandered it on wine, women and gambling. He once said, ‘I sleep late, I eat a lot and I think little’.

One day however, aged 28, something inside him changed. There in the North African desert where he served in the army, he saw how the Muslims worship. It made him think that there must be something more to life. He left the army, disguised himself as a Jew and went to Morocco to learn Arabic and Hebrew.

One evening, alone in a church, he prayed, ‘My God, if you exist let me know’. God did let him know, through his cousin, Marie. She talked with him for hours, gave him books to read and encouraged him to see her parish priest in Paris.

Charles found this priest in his confessional. He said, ‘Father, I have no faith. I’ve come to ask you to teach me’. The priest replied, ‘Kneel down. Confess to God. You will believe.’ 

Charles replied, ‘But I didn’t come for that’.

The priest insisted, ‘Confess!’ So, Charles confessed his many sins and he was forgiven. The priest then told him to go to communion, and he did. There at the altar, Charles saw the light he was looking for. He recognised God. 

Later on, he said that as soon as he believed in God, he knew that he couldn’t do anything else except live for him.

Charles then joined a Trappist monastery in Syria, and later he went to Nazareth where he lived as a hermit in a small tool shed and worked as a gardener. But all the while he wanted to live among the poor.

In 1901, at the age of 43, he was ordained a priest and sent back to the Sahara Desert in Algeria. There he lived as a hermit, not far from the semi-nomadic Tuareg people.  He came to love them, sharing their life and hardships and he wrote books about them and their language.

He helped them grow crops in the desert. He fed the hungry; he helped the poor and the sick. He also bought the freedom of slaves and he worked hard to protect them from mistreatment. The locals called him ‘the holy one’. 

However, in 1916, during WW1, some Muslims fighting the French threatened to kill Charles if he didn’t renounce his faith. He refused, and they shot him. [ii] He died, aged 58.

So, what can we learn from Blessed Charles de Foucauld?

Well, firstly, he was fascinated by the ‘hidden life’ of Christ; the 30 years when Jesus lived quietly with his family and worked hard as an artisan. Jesus ate simply, dressed simply and lived simply, and he was gentle and loving towards everyone. Charles copied this way of life.

Secondly, Charles said that if we want to think, talk, act and pray like Jesus, then we should keep reading the Gospels, because that will teach us how.

And thirdly, Charles saw a profound link between Jesus’ presence in the Eucharist and his presence in the poor. When Jesus said, ‘This is my body … this is my blood’, he wasn’t just talking about the Eucharist. He was also talking about the people around him. Realising this changed Charles’ life.

In 1916, he wrote that nothing in the Gospels had transformed his life more than these words: ‘Whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do for me’ (Mt.25:40).

In May 2022, Pope Francis will be canonising Charles de Foucauld.[iii]

This Advent, if you’re wondering how to prepare yourself for the coming of Jesus, remember the story of St Charles de Foucauld.

He knew that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (Jn.14:6). So, he was determined to live, talk, think, act and pray just like Jesus. 

He even chose to die like Jesus, sacrificing himself for the people he loved.


[i] https://www.charlesdefoucauld.org/en/biographie.php

[ii] Maolshealachlann O’Ceallaigh, Inspiration from the Saints, Angelico Press, NY, 2018, 30-32.

[iii] https://www.vaticannews.va/en/vatican-city/news/2021-11/charles-de-foucauld-blesseds-canonization-15-may.html

Year C – 2nd Sunday of Advent

William Holman Hunt’s Light of the World

(Jer.33:14-16; Thess.3:12-4:2; Lk.21:25-28, 34-36)

Today, on the second Sunday of Advent, let’s explore the famous painting, The Light of the World, by the British artist William Holman Hunt (1827-1910).

He painted three versions of this work. The last one, completed in 1904, is now in St Paul’s Cathedral, London. [i] [ii]

year-c-2nd-sunday-in-advent-9

This picture is set in an orchard at night, and a man wearing a crown and holding a lantern is knocking on a door, waiting for it to open. It’s Jesus Christ, of course, and he wants to enter. But the door is firmly shut and it’s overgrown with weeds.

This door represents our hearts and minds, which are obstinately closed, and the weeds symbolise our sins. The door has no handle, no keyhole, no external lock. It can only be opened from within, but the weeds and rusty hinges tell us that it’s rarely, if ever, opened.

Look at Jesus’ face: he is kind and gentle, and his eyes are looking directly at you, wherever you are. But there’s also a hint of sadness, as he waits patiently for a reply. And notice his hands: they’ve been pierced by nails.

There are three light sources in this picture. Behind Jesus, moonlight is shining through the trees and promising the dawn of a new day. It reminds us of St Paul’s words: ‘The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light’ (Rom.13:12).

Light is also shining from Jesus’ halo, signifying his holiness and presence as the Light of Truth. And the bright lantern symbolises the Light of Christ, who shows us the way (Jn.8:12). As the psalmist says, ‘Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path’ (Ps.119:105).

But do you see the holes atop the lantern? The six-pointed stars and the crescent moons symbolise Judaism and Islam, and tell us that Jesus is the light for all nations. He’s knocking on everyone’s door.

The chain affixing the lantern to Jesus’ wrist symbolises his commitment to his Church and to each of us personally.

Jesus is wearing a long white robe, and he has a clasp on his cloak, like the breastplate of a Jewish Temple high priest. Every year the high priest performed a sacrifice for the people’s sins. This clasp has a cross on it, demonstrating the link between Judaism and Christianity.

Now, Jesus’ cloak and the door have similar colours. This reminds us that Jesus is also a doorway; he’s the gateway to peace and eternal life (Jn.10.7).

On Jesus’ head are two crowns: one of thorns, the other of gold. The thorns symbolise his passion, death and resurrection, and the gold his heavenly glory. But notice the thorns: they are beginning to bud and blossom. They remind us that new life flows from Christ’s sacrifice, and hope can always be found, even in the darkest of places.

Behind Jesus is a tangle of trees. They point to Adam and Eve’s Original Sin, and the tree on which Jesus died. But they also symbolise our own family trees, which are waiting to be lit up and filled with divine life.

Above the door is a bat, blind and flitting about in the darkness. It symbolises worldly ignorance, ruin and neglect. And the decaying fruit on the ground represents life wasted without Jesus.

The title of this painting comes from Jesus’ words: ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life’ (Jn.8:12).

And the words on the lower frame come from Revelation 3:20: ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man hear my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and sup with him and he with me’.

After this painting was completed in 1904, it was taken on a world tour, attracting huge crowds. In Australia, some 80% of the population reportedly saw it, at the rate of 100 people every minute. [iii] [iv] [v]

When the first version of this painting was sent for repairs, the restorers removed the frame and found the words ‘Don’t pass me by, Lord’ written underneath in Latin. [vi]

And when the newest version was sent to be cleaned, they found a message under its frame, too. The artist had written: ‘Forgive me, Lord Jesus, that I kept you waiting so long!’ [vii]

Are we, too, making Jesus wait too long?

Notice Jesus’ feet. It looks like he’s starting to turn and walk away. Could he be giving up?

One day, even Jesus will stop waiting for us.


[i] William Holman Hunt (1827-1910), The Light of the World (c.1900-04), Oil on canvas, St Paul’s, London.

[ii] https://www.stpauls.co.uk/history-collections/the-collections/collections-highlights/the-light-of-the-world

[iii] https://allsaintstenerife.org/the-light-of-the-world/

[iv] https://www.stpauls.co.uk/documents/Education/Light%20of%20the%20world%20booklet.pdf

[v] https://www.sightmagazine.com.au/lifestyle/great-works/13451-great-works-the-light-of-the-world

[vi] https://dantisamor.wordpress.com/tag/the-light-of-the-world/

[vii] Gary L Carver, Gotta Minute? CSS Publishing Co, Lima OH. 2020:231.

Year C – 1st Sunday of Advent

An Often-Neglected Gift

(Jer.33:14-16; Thess.3:12-4:2; Lk.21:25-28, 34-36)

Every year, in the weeks before Christmas, most of us spend time thinking about gifts – gifts for the people we love and care for.

Every year, however, there’s one gift that too many of us neglect in the run-up to Christmas. It’s the Season of Advent. It only lasts for four Sundays, it starts today, and it really is a gift to each of us from Jesus and his Church.

Advent is a remarkable gift. It marks the beginning of a brand-new liturgical year, and the start of a fresh new journey as we set out once again to follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ.

As we travel together over the next twelve months, we’ll be reliving Jesus’ story, from his birth and early life, to his public ministry, his passion, death and resurrection, and his Ascension into heaven. And along the way, we’ll be listening to his teachings, we’ll be hearing the personal messages he has for us, and we’ll be his witnesses as he sends his Holy Spirit into the world.

Starting a new journey can be a wonderful thing, but to gain the most benefit we must fully engage our hearts and minds, and allow ourselves to embrace new stories and new ways of living.

The Jewish philosopher Martin Buber used to say that all journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware. But before we can reach these secret destinations, we must let go of our old ways of seeing and be prepared to do new things.

Have you heard the folktale of a woman named Bilfina? The Three Wise Men and their camels pass by her house while she is busy cleaning inside. They invite her to join with them as they journey to Jesus in Bethlehem.

          Bilfina, the housewife, scrubbing her pane
          Saw three old sages ride down the lane,
          Saw three grey travellers pass by her door –
          Gaspar, Balthazar and Melchior.

          ‘Where journey you, sirs?’ she asked of them.
          Balthazar answered, ‘To Bethlehem,
          For we have news of a marvelous thing,
          Born in a stable is Christ the King’.

          ‘Give Him my welcome!’ she said,
          Then Gaspar smiled,
          ‘Come with us, mistress, to greet the child’.
          ‘Oh, happily, happily would I fare, she said
          Were my dusting done and I’d polished the stair.’
          ….. Old Melchior leaned on his saddle horn,
          ‘Then send but a gift to the small Newborn.’

          ‘Oh, gladly, gladly, I’d send him one,
          Were the kitchen swept
          and my weaving done.

          As soon as I’ve baked my bread,
          I’ll fetch him a pillow for his head,
          And a blanket too,’ Bilfina said.

          ‘When the rooms are aired and the linen dry,
          I’ll look at the Babe,’ she said,                                             
          ….. But the three rode by.

          She worked for a day, and a night and a day,
          Then gifts in her hands, she went on her way.
          But she never found where the Christ child lay.

          And she still wanders at Christmastide,
          ….. Houseless, whose house was all her pride.
          Whose heart was tardy, whose gifts were late;

          ….. She wanders and knocks at every gate.      
          Crying, ‘Good people, the bells begin!
          Put off your toiling and let love in!’

Yes, put off your toiling and let love in. 

year-c-1st-sunday-of-advent-3

Some of us are so busy; we’re so stuck in our day-to-day routines, that we often miss the important things when they come our way. And then, when we do notice them, sometimes it’s too late.

Today, the gift of Advent is being offered to you personally. Accept it. Slow down a while, and perhaps even stop altogether. Take time to listen, to reflect, to pray and to trust Jesus, for he’s reaching out to you right now.

It is important for us to prepare our hearts and homes for the coming of Jesus at Christmas. But it’s also essential that we prepare our souls for when he comes again – at the end of our lives and at the end of all time.  Let’s not make Bilfina’s mistake. Let’s journey to Jesus before it’s too late.

So, put off your toiling, and let love in.

Put off your toiling, and let joy and wisdom in.

Put off your toiling, and accept the wonderful gift of Advent.