Sunday and Weekday Homilies
Monday, 22 June 2026
Week 12 Tuesday (Year 2)
Sunday, 21 June 2026
Week 12 Monday (Year 2)
Readings: 2 Kings 17.5-8, 13-15a, 18; Psalm 59/60; Matthew 7.1-5
The image of a person with a plank in his eye is one of the most absurd in the Gospels. It is not the only place where Jesus uses surreal and exaggerated comparisons to make a point. the point here is to warn us about the ways in which our judgement of others is inevitably distorted.
So better to hold back altogether from judging others. Of course there are situations where we are obliged to discern, decide and execute judgement about things and people. The virtue of prudence is concerned with those. But it is a different kind of judgement to the one intended here.
Here the judgement involved is about the fundamental goodness or otherwise of another person, about the motivations of their behaviour, about their intentions in doing what they do. Best to leave that kind of judgement to God while ourselves seeking to be kind and merciful always towards others, as we want God to be kind and merciful towards ourselves.
That petition of the Our Father is a risky one, therefore, the one by which we ask that the Lord might forgive us as we forgive others. There's the rub, and the first thing to think about: how do I forgive others? do I forgive them?
God allows us to set the criterion: 'what you measure out is what you will be given'. If we do not understand forgiveness in relation to others neither will we appreciate the great gift it is when we ourselves receive God's mercy. It will be a foreign language to us, beyond our ken, as if we had a plank in our eyes.
Saturday, 20 June 2026
Week 12 Sunday (Year A)
Readings: Jeremiah 20.10-13; Psalm 68/69; Romans 5.12-15; Matthew 10.26-33
"The free gift is not like the trespass". It is a statement of Saint Paul that really should be in lights over every place where the gospel is preached. It should be spoken in the light and proclaimed on the housetops.
Why so? Because more often than not our real faith reaches only to something less than this. We fall back into thinking that the free gift meets the needs and desires of the ones who have trespassed. It is a gift, yes, and free, yes, but trimmed to the measure of our need. As if God is simply 'our god', the solution to our problems, the answer to our questions, the one to set things right for us.
So often we understand grace in the shadow of the trespass - of our sin and weakness, our need and desire - when the truth is that grace, as Paul goes on to say, bursts these bounds, it 'abounds for the many' ('many' meaning the generality, humanity, in other words all of us). Paul's hymn in exaggeration of grace (so we might think) continues: If the reign of sin means death for many through one man's disobedience, 'much more surely', 'much more surely' - he says it twice! - will the reign of grace mean life for the many through the obedience of the one man Jesus Christ.
The teaching of Jesus - his parables, miracles and discourses - is with a view to shocking us into an appreciation of the reality of grace, that in God's kingdom different standards apply. He speaks of different criteria of justice, reconciliation, community: the first will be last and the last first, more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, prostitutes and tax-collectors go in first - there are so many paradoxical sayings, to us often seeming simply contradictory.
We are more comfortable with an arrangement that fits into what we manage to establish as 'justice'. We are more comfortable, truth be told, with fearing God than with loving God. We know more about the first, arising from sin and its consequences, than we do about the second, coming to us as grace and a new creation. 'Fear no one', Jesus says in today's gospel, 'do not be afraid'. But we are afraid, preferring the familiar fear of sin and punishment to the awe and wonder that accompanies the unknown height and depth, length and breadth, of God's boundless love.
What might it mean for us, that love? What might it yet ask of us? Better the fear you know than the love that is mysterious, all-consuming, re-creating (which means first de-creating, undoing, requiring a new birth).
Jeremiah, in the first reading, is once again a 'type' of Christ anticipating in his experience what Jesus would undergo. The Lord proves himself to be a mighty champion, saving Jeremiah from his enemies. God did not spare his own son, however, but gave him up for us all. The most remarkable 'rescue' then takes place, the Resurrection, which is not just the restoration of life to what it was before but the initiation of a new creation. The free gift is not like the trespass. The risen life is not like death. The fear that so often holds us is not like the awe and wonder that fills the disciples as they encounter the Risen Lord, glimpsing thereby the glory of God's love.
"Every hair on your head is counted." How crazy is that? It is just one more indication of the criteria that prevail in the kingdom of God, a kingdom whose only law is the limitless love of this tremendous Lover for each one of his creatures.
Friday, 19 June 2026
Week 11 Saturday (Year 2)
Readings: 2 Chronicles 24.17-25; Psalm 88/89; Matthew 6.24-34
The Davidic regime is really testing God's patience in the readings we hear these days. After the drama of ensuring that Joash would finally become king, he turned against the religion of Israel establishing the worship of idols and even murdering the prophet Zechariah for criticising him. Zechariah was the son of the man who had gone to so much trouble to establish Joash as the rightful king. It is difficult to imagine a deeper betrayal, a greater corruption.
But it is 'par for the course', as we might say, with the people once again doing what was evil in the sight of the Lord. How often we come across that expression as we read through the historical books of the Bible. It all culminates in the disaster of the Exile, the Lord having tried other less radical ways of encouraging the people to be faithful to the terms of their covenant with him.
Once again the contrast with the teaching of Jesus in the gospel reading is very striking. He seems to have no interest in power or wealth, in the things that drive political life in the world. Cast yourselves on the providence of God is his message, for see how he has already showered his gifts on the world.
Is it romantic, unrealistic, irresponsible? Imagine saying to a poor person asking for help 'cast yourself on the providence of God'! Of course in that encounter it is I who am to be the instrument of God's providence for the poor person. But do I really believe in God's care for me, for us, or is my 'faith' in fact just another political strategy, keeping my options open while at the same time engaging in the worldly occupations of power and wealth with the jealousies and conflicts to which these occupations inevitably lead?
'You cannot serve God and mammon' is one of the clearest teachings of Jesus. Mammon is money. Elsewhere he says we are to use money, 'that tainted thing', but to do so wisely and carefully, remembering that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God. Only by God's grace, for whom nothing is impossible.
The requirements for citizenship in God's kingdom are clear and radical: to live with total trust in God's care and to live in the freedom and mutual generosity which that trust makes possible. It is to live in the condition of complete simplicity of which TS Eliot speaks, costing not less than everything. Only by God's grace can it be done as we see in the lives of great saints: Francis of Assisi, Theresa of Calcutta, for example. The rest of us look on with admiration and amazement hoping that we might, at least occasionally, glimpse that freedom and practise that generosity.
Thursday, 18 June 2026
Week 11 Friday (Year 2)
Wednesday, 17 June 2026
Week 11 Thursday
ORDERING OUR DESIRES
A REFLECTION ON THE OUR FATHER
Tuesday, 16 June 2026
Week 11 Wednesday (Year 2)
Readings: 2 Kings 2.1, 6-14; Psalm 30/31; Matthew 6.1-6, 16-18
There is a reward either way for fasting, praying and almsgiving. If our motivation is to be seen and admired by others then we will already have had our reward in their attention and their interest in us. If we do these things for their own sake, in secret, without fanfare, and without drawing attention to ourselves, then the Heavenly Father who sees in secret will reward us. This is the teaching of Jesus in today's gospel reading which is also the gospel reading for Ash Wednesday.
What will be the nature of our reward? It is impossible to predict except that it will be what is for our greatest good and happiness. That means it will bind us more closely to the Heavenly Father who dwells in silence and invisibility.
When we have said all we have to say in prayer, when we have prepared ourselves through fasting, and when we have given alms to the needy, then we encounter without ourselves a silent and empty place where words, images and concepts no longer function for us. We encounter within ourselves the dark cloud in which God is said to dwell.
That presents us with the challenge of living from the interior to the exterior rather than the other way around. It is all too easy to give in to the temptation to fill that invisible and silent place with images and sounds. The contemporary world swamps us with images and sounds chosen especially for us by the systems that are tracking us all the time. It is a kind of lethargy which leads us to give in to the exterior stimulation once again, to turn away from the austerity of our interior self.
So what about switching off the computer, iPad and smartphone? What about fasting from them for a while? Irt would move us to an arid, desert place where we would be obliged to encounter our own thoughts, feelings and desires directly.
To persevere in that secret place, our own interiority, is not easy, but the Heavenly Father is there, waiting for us. It is essential for our salvation that we do manage to stay in that place. It means staying with ourselves, facing up to ourselves, without dressing ourselves up in disguises and camouflage, in some kind of false persona.
All the works of penance lead to that point - fasting, praying, and sharing what we have with others. In those activities, or our avoidance of them, we see the truth about ourselves, a truth that will set us free no matter how unpalatable it is, even if it is at times a bitter truth. But it will become sweet because any truth is a divine spark revealing the presence of God who is Truth.