Reflections from Fr Kieran

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.

Paul Simon wrote a song in 1964, “The Sound of Silence” that was released on the album, “Wednesday Morning 3 A.M.” There are very few of us (of those above a certain age!) who do not know it. It is a fascinating song, referring to ‘touching,’ ‘disturbing,’ and ‘whispering’ in describing “The Sound of Silence.” With a title for his reflection of, “The Sound of Silence” it might be thought that Fr Kieran has decided to join the ranks of music reviewers! Not so! Instead, and taking the Gospel about the Transfiguration from the second Sunday of Lent as his subject and the silence of Jesus throughout, Kieran gives us much to think about when considering silence.

Pointing out that the phrase “The Sound of Silence” may seem contradictory, he points to its profound spiritual significance. He observes that silence is not just the absence of noise; it holds multiple meanings shaped by emotions and circumstances. Negative silences, such as those of grief, anger, or guilt, can be painful and unsettling, as seen in the disciples’ fear and shame after Jesus’ crucifixion.

However, Kieran also reflects on the value of a silence that can also be sacred and transformative. Companionable silence fosters deep relationships, while mystical silence allows for spiritual communion with God. Jesus exemplifies the power of silence, particularly in the Transfiguration, where his quiet presence invites deep listening. His retreat into silent prayer before ministry underscores its role in discernment and transformation.

Fr Kieran concludes by inviting us to see Lent as a call to us to embrace meaningful silence, preparing for the joy of Easter when Christ breaks the silence of grief with words of peace. True silence is not emptiness but a space for wonder, prayer, and divine revelation.

Kieran’s reflection this month is on the subject of hope, made especially relevant as this is the Jubilee Year of hope.

In this Jubilee year, whose theme is inspired by St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans (5:5), we reflect on hope’s role in both human and Christian life. Hope, often linked to optimism, helps us move forward despite failure and tragedy. Kieran points to the warning of Pope Francis against a naïve optimism, which overlooks life’s inevitable hardships. A deeper, personal hope emerges through relationships and commitments, particularly in marriage, where vows create a foundation of trust. This hope mirrors God’s covenant with His people and Christ’s faithfulness to the Church. Implicit promises shape moral life and society, forming a “social contract” that fosters security and love.

Christian hope, as a theological virtue, is rooted in God’s promises, while God also places hope in humanity’s potential. Just as parents nurture their children’s promise, we are called to fulfill God’s hope in us. As St. Paul reminds us, faith, hope, and love endure, with love as the greatest.

As we enter the new year, it’s important to ensure our resolutions align with God’s will, specifically our unique calling as disciples of Jesus. For his reflection, Fr Kieran is inspired by Agnes Sanford’s idea of “sealed orders” in her autobiography of the same name.

Kieran explores how prayer, sacraments, and loved ones help us uncover our divine mission. Just as Hannah, Samuel, and Jesus were guided, we too must remain open to God’s direction, which may evolve throughout our lives.

The example of Simeon, Anna, and other figures shows that God continually reveals new purposes, urging us to fulfil His plan through prayer, devotion, and the support of those around us.

For many of us, when we trawl back through early memories of the celebration of Advent, we will often recall that Sunday in the middle of the season called Gaudete Sunday. Gaudate – Rejoice! It is also the Sunday when the pink coloured candle on the Advent wreath was lit. And so, just as the candle stood out on the wreath, so the Sunday stands out among those of Advent.

Fr Kieran’s reflection for this Gaudete Sunday considers the idea of joy. Yes, of course, there is the awareness of the joy that awaits at Christmas of the birth of Jesus. And Kieran goes further, pointing out how time and again in the scriptures, God’s response to conversion is that of joy. In the parables of the lost sheep, or the lost coin, or most especially in the parable of the Prodigal Son, it is joy experienced when what was lost, was found. And this joy is illustrative of the love of God the Father.

On this Gaudete Sunday, Kieran invites us to be “surprised by joy” when we do what John the Baptist encourages us to do in the Gospel reading.

This month, Kieran leads us through a reflection on the idea of tribes and tribalism. We are mostly familiar, in one way or another, with our own idea of tribes and tribalism. Maybe it is American Indian tribes so familiar to us from the great western movies of times past (they don’t seem to make them any more!), perhaps we think of present day tribal groups in, say, the South American jungles or in the countries of Africa.

For sure, these are tribes, and, in a way, Kieran draws some of his ideas from these examples of tribes and tribalism. But he takes us a little further on this journey, away from these stereotypical images and look at the ideas through the lens of the life that we each live, our lives in our families, the places we live, our country. Having set the scene, he then invites us to consider how these tribal instincts (our DNA?) affect how we live, what we think, and what we do.

At the end, Kieran brings us back to the Gospel, to the person of Jesus and His message to us, who encourages us – challenges us – to step outside the direction of our human flawed genes and truly live in accord with his greatest command, to love one another.

For our reflection this month, Fr Kieran draws inspiration from the writings of St Paul, especially in his letter to the Ephesians, and using St Paul as his example, Kieran takes us into the land of metaphors.

Our normal discourse might be seen as somewhat bland if we did not resort to metaphors from time to time. And it isn’t just in our everyday speech. Can anyone say that she or he is unfamiliar with Elvis Presley’s hit: “You Ain’t Nothing but a Hound Dog.” And it might be argued that literature too, would be too plain with recourse to metaphors. Even the title and first line of Emily Dickinson’s poem is metaphor: ““Hope” is the thing with feathers.”

And so, Kieran explores this idea and reaches into the Gospel stories, illustrating his reflection with metaphors and their first cousins, mixed metaphors, to give us an insight into how St Paul uses them to draw us ever closer to Christ.

In this month’s reflection, Fr Kieran considers what it means when we speak of acting in accordance with our consciences. As Kieran writes, we are quick to recognise the principle that we cannot be the judge in our own case!

He then guides us to what St Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians. St Paul speaks of the importance of conscience and then goes on to point out that: “True, my conscience does not reproach me at all, but that does not prove that I am acquitted.” Why does he say this? In the following words, he writes: “The Lord alone is my judge.”

We can all to easily point to acting in accordance with our conscience, as if it is infallible. But is that true? Can our conscience be in error?

And so to our role and responsibility as Christians, doing our best to follow and live the Gospel. Kieran writes of the need, not just to act in accordance with our conscience but to recognise the importance for an informed conscience. Our presence at Mass, listening actively to the Word of God, is one part of informing our consciences and thus, making decisions that reflect the Gospel values that are core to our baptismal promises.

In his reflection, Fr Kieran asks us to consider the twin ideas of discovery and revelation. In both cases, we learn something new, something that was previously unknown to us and if we didn’t think too much about it, we might not pay much attention to the difference. But as Kieran points out, there are fundamental differences.

As with so much of our language, we can find the roots of the words we use every day in Latin (or Greek). In the case of “reveal” and, “discover” a quick look at their Latin roots tells its own story. “Discover” comes from the Latin “dis,” a negative, and “cooperio,” to hide; that is, it means an unhiding of something. On the other hand, “reveal” is from “re,” meaning back, and “velum,” meaning a veil; that is, something is seen when the veil is withdrawn. In both cases, something that was unseen is now seen but there is a difference, isn’t there? Discovery implies some conscious action whereas revelation suggests that what is unhidden is separate to any act of the one looking.

Kieran reflects on this difference, illustrating his point as always through Scripture and brings us inexorably to the conclusion that as Christians, it is revelation that will change our lives!

Very many of us are familiar with the name Helen Keller. Helen was permanently deaf and blind as a result of an illness she contracted at just 19 months old.

In something she wrote, she said: “Blindness separates us from things, but deafness separates us from people.”

Fr Kieran’s reflection this week bring those words to mind. Kieran takes as the theme of his reflection the story of the apostle Thomas, or as the world often knows him, “Doubting Thomas” as told in St John’s Gospel (Jn 20:24-29). In the Gospel story, there is much about “seeing” – whether Thomas’s doubt on hearing that the other apostles have “seen” the Lord or even, the words of Jesus himself after his encounter with Thomas when He says to him: “You believe because you can see me. Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.”

However, Kieran asks us to turn our minds to another one of our senses, that of hearing. In our lives, we are called to the presence of Jesus via our hearing, “in scripture, in prayer, and in the suffering of creation, to name the primary sources of revelation.” It seems that when speaking of our encounters with the Lord, Helen Keller and Kieran are on the same page!