Reflections from Fr Kieran

In this month’s reflection, and based on the feast of the Ascension of Christ into heaven, Fr Kieran considers how the mysteries of the Christian faith are often expressed through images and metaphors that seek to communicate realities beyond the limits of human language.

While such imagery is indispensable, it can also shape our understanding in ways that obscure as much as they reveal. Few examples illustrate this more clearly than the Feast of the Ascension. The biblical accounts portray Christ as returning to the Father and being exalted at his right hand, yet the same Scriptures insist that he remains present with his followers until the end of time. How are we to understand this apparent contradiction? Has Jesus departed from the world, or is he still among us?

In his reflection, Kieran explores the tension between these two affirmations by examining the language and imagery traditionally associated with heaven, transcendence, and the presence of God. He suggests that many of our difficulties arise from an overly literal reading of spatial metaphors that speak of God as being “above,” “beyond,” or “far away.” Influenced by such images, we can unconsciously imagine heaven as a distant location and God as remote from human experience. Yet the biblical tradition points in another direction, presenting a God who is both transcendent and intimately present.

By revisiting familiar scriptural images and reinterpreting them in relational rather than geographical terms, Kieran may help us discover anew that the Ascension is not primarily about Christ’s departure, but about a deeper and more profound form of divine presence.

In his reflection for this season of Lent, Fr Kieran explores how the season of Lent has long been understood as a time of sacrifice, often expressed through the simple idea of “giving something up.” He points out that beneath this familiar practice lies a deeper and more meaningful spiritual reality. Sacrifice is not merely about denial or loss, but about transformation, an intentional act of reordering our priorities so that something greater may emerge. Whether it takes the form of fasting, charity, or self-discipline, Kieran tells us that Lenten sacrifice invites reflection on what it means to live generously and responsibly in relation to others.

In everyday life, sacrifice is not limited to religious observance. Kieran points to the choices that people make all of the time, choices that involve letting go of one good for the sake of another, often higher, good. From the commitments of family life to acts of courage and service, sacrifice is woven into the fabric of human experience. He also acknowledges that such choices are rarely straightforward, and discerning the value of what is given up can be challenging.

In his reflection, he explores the rich and evolving meaning of sacrifice, moving beyond the notion of simple renunciation to a more profound understanding rooted in gratitude and relationship. He introduces the idea of sacrifice as a “double gift,” where receiving and giving are intimately connected. Kieran suggests that by examining both everyday examples and deeper theological insights, it ultimately points toward a Christian vision of sacrifice revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, a model that transforms sacrifice into an act of love, thanksgiving, and renewal.

In Fr Kieran’s first reflection for the New Year, he considers the three powerful forces that shape the human heart and profoundly influence our spiritual lives, viz. love, fear, and courage. As we begin a new year, these themes take on a particular urgency, inviting us to reflect on how we face uncertainty, vulnerability, and challenge in the light of faith. For Wednesday, January 9, the friary was invited to celebrate Mass for those watching the daily broadcast on the RTÉ News Channel, a moment that naturally called for a message of hope and reassurance. Fr Kieran’s homily that day was based on the readings from I John 4:11–18 and Mark 6:45–52, texts that speak directly to fear and the transforming power of love. Here again is that homily.

Kieran points to the vivid Gospel scenes in which fear is real and palpable: disciples struggling on dark waters, battling wind and uncertainty, while Jesus approaches them in unexpected ways. These are not merely stories about ancient fishermen or dramatic miracles; they are mirrors of our own experience. We too know what it is to feel overwhelmed, to mistake God’s nearness for something threatening, or to allow fear to dominate our decisions.

For Kieran, at the heart of these readings lies a simple yet profound assurance: courage is born not from self-reliance alone, but from love; perfect love that comes from God.

As St John reminds us, “Perfect love drives out fear.” Kieran’s reflection explores how this divine love, revealed in Christ, invites us to move from fear to trust, and from anxiety to courageous hope, as we step into a new year held firmly in God’s care.

In his November reflection, Fr Kieran delves deep to consider how we should consider Purgatory in the context of our faith and what happens after death.

He points to how Catholic understanding of Purgatory has evolved considerably over time, moving from an emphasis on punishment to one of purification and divine mercy. November, the month dedicated in Catholic tradition to prayerful reflection on “The Last Things” viz., death, judgement, heaven, hell, and purgatory, offers an opportunity to reconsider what lies at the heart of this teaching.

Historically, Purgatory was depicted as a place of suffering where souls endured temporal punishment before entering heaven, as reflected in the 1950s Irish Catechism. However, the contemporary Catechism of the Catholic Church (1994) redefines it as a process of purification for those who die in God’s grace but are not yet perfectly holy. This shift represents a profound theological development, moving from fear of retribution toward hope in transformation.

Kieran points to the fact that modern Catholic teaching presents purgatory not as a spatial or temporal location but as a relational state, a deepening of one’s communion with God through cleansing love rather than punitive fire. This interpretation aligns with a broader move within post-Vatican II theology to understand heaven, hell, and purgatory as conditions of relationship rather than physical realms.

Ultimately, Kieran concludes that purgatory becomes less about suffering and more about healing, reconciliation, and the fulfillment of love’s demands. It invites believers to trust in divine mercy while striving for purification in this life, echoing St. Paul’s vision of what “God has prepared for those who love Him.”

As we move into September Fr Kieran considers this time of year when the global Church enters into the Season of Creation, a time of prayer, reflection, and renewed commitment to caring for our “common home.” Marking this season is an invitation to deepen our awareness of the beauty and fragility of God’s creation, while also confronting the urgent crises of climate change, environmental degradation, and the exploitation of natural resources.

Our month-long journey culminates on October 4, the feast of St Francis of Assisi, whose spirituality of creation continues to inspire the Church’s teaching, particularly in Laudato Si’.

In his reflection, Kieran explores why our relationship with creation is not simply a matter of human survival but also a profound spiritual and theological concern. He suggests that it challenges us to move beyond self-interest and embrace the intrinsic dignity of all that God has made, recognising the earth and all creatures as part of one family under God.

With the memory of the recent celebration of the Portiuncula Indulgence at Multyfarnham still fresh in his mind, Fr Kieran looks to that part of Franciscan history and asks us to reflect on the true meaning of inheritance.

In his reflection, Kieran contrasts this sense of Franciscan inheritance with the more worldly sense of inheritance with which we are all familiar (wealth, property, status). When we step away from those more material notions, he leads us to consider the spiritual, cultural, and moral inheritance passed down through faith, values, traditions, heritage, and care for creation.

Using the example of St. Francis and the Portiuncula, he challenges us to consider what kind of inheritance we are receiving and passing on; whether material, spiritual, or even negative legacies.

Ultimately, Kieran’s reflection is on the greatest inheritance of all: the love of God and eternal life in Christ, which surpasses every earthly possession.

Fr Kieran’s theme for June on prayer, invites us to consider a dimension that might now always be foremost in our minds, viz. the moral nature of prayer. For many Christians, prayer is often understood primarily as a spiritual act, an expression of the heart and mind lifted toward God, echoing St John Damascene’s classic definition. Yet, in his reflection, Kieran emphasises another essential dimension of prayer, particularly in petitionary prayer: its deeply moral character.

Kieran writes that prayer is commonly seen as something interior and contemplative, whereas morality involves action, responsibility, and justice. But these aspects are not as separate as we might think. Thomas Aquinas, for instance, treated petitionary prayer as part of the virtue of devotion, itself a dimension of justice – the virtue by which we give each one their due. In that light, asking God for what we need is not simply an act of dependence but a recognition of God’s power and love, and a giving of God what is rightly His.

Moreover, this connection between prayer and morality is embedded in Jesus’ own teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, where instruction on prayer appears right alongside moral imperatives like forgiveness, almsgiving, and love of enemies. The Lord’s Prayer itself is not only a spiritual pattern but a profoundly moral one, shaping how we relate to God and others.

It is Kieran’s position, therefore, that prayer, then, is not an escape from moral life but its very foundation!

Fr Kieran bases his reflection this month on St John’s Gospel where Jesus speaks words of profound intimacy as he prepares to leave his disciples: “I shall not call you servants anymore… I call you friends” (Jn 15:15). Kieran explores this connection between servant and friend, suggesting that the shift is not merely about status but about relationship. While a servant might perform duties without understanding the full purpose, a friend is welcomed into the heart of the mission, trusted with personal knowledge and love. Jesus’ friendship is grounded in revelation – he has shared “everything” from the Father – and in self-giving love

Kieran points out that this friendship is not devoid of service; rather, it transforms it. At the Last Supper, Jesus stoops to wash his disciples’ feet, revealing the divine irony: the Master becomes the servant to show the depth of his love.

In his conclusion, Kieran tells us that true Christian friendship is not about comfort or privilege but about sacrificial commitment. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, lays down his life for his friends, and even for his enemies, calling all to enter into this relationship of love. In Christ, the roles of friend and servant are not opposed but united. To be a friend of Jesus is to embrace the path of humble, faithful service, freely chosen, lovingly given, and ultimately modelled on the one who came not to be served, but to serve. As the title to Kieran’s reflection says: “the best friends are those who serve!”

In his Holy Week reflection, Fr Kieran explores the dramatic irony present in the Passion narrative from the Gospel of John. The homily emphasises how key figures in the story, such as Caiaphas and Pilate, unknowingly fulfill divine plans despite their actions. Caiaphas, suggesting he is protecting the people, ironically condemns the true Saviour, Jesus, while Pilate, representing Roman authority, is judged by the very man he condemns! The Gospel also highlights the stark irony of the crowd choosing to free Barabbas, a murderer, over Jesus, the true “Son of the Father.”

Pilate’s inscription on Jesus’s cross, declaring him “King of the Jews,” is another ironic moment, where Pilate mocks Jesus, but unknowingly affirms his true identity. The chief priests, in a final moment of irony, declare they have “no king but Caesar,” rejecting God as their King.

Kieran’s words challenge the modern world to reflect on truth amidst the chaos of misinformation and competing ideologies, urging us to align with the truth of Jesus’s teachings. Jesus’s refusal to retaliate, even in the face of violence, exemplifies the ethos of the “Peaceable Kingdom” he came to establish, calling for resistance to violence in all its forms. Ultimately, Kieran points to the resurrection as the triumph of grace and truth over untruth and violence, offering hope and freedom through Jesus Christ.