There is an old humorous story about tourists who stop somewhere in a rural place, a bit lost. They are looking for directions back to the main road and civilisation. One of the locals is giving them a very confused set of directions involving a lot of ‘right turns here’ and ‘left turns there’. And they were not getting any of it. Finally, in exasperation, the local says, “If I were you, I wouldn’t start from here!”
We would all love to be starting from somewhere else. Every time we wish things were different with ourselves, our community, our Church, we are in fact thinking: this is not a good place to start from. But the call of the Gospel, the essence of our Faith, is that right now we are where God intends us to be.
God’s journey does not begin in some mythical ideal land, but in the messy reality of what it means to be alive today, to be fully human today, to be Christian today. I use the word “messy” deliberately, because it contains not just the discomfort of our failures, but the wonderful possibility of what we can create for the future, working with God.
It is the very nature of the Incarnation that God chose to enter a messy world, a real world, bringing with Him the greatest treasure of all: the promise that all lives will ultimately make sense, and that there is a level of deep meaning which we can achieve in communion with one another.
The readings for today’s Eucharist are the regular readings for this 24th Sunday of the Church’s year. Their theme is forgiveness, and the way in which it is portrayed as the lifeblood of Christian life, and indeed of any meaningful life. Fear and self-righteousness gradually harden the heart, sealing it against others; but genuine forgiveness grows from the humble recognition that we all stand equally in need of God’s mercy, and that none of us can claim superiority before God.
When we are a forgiving and have forgiven people, we understand that we are starting from where we are, not from some mythical ideal place where there is no hurt or misunderstanding. We are starting from a real place. Forgiveness creates true communion, transforming wounds, misunderstandings and divisions into living opportunities for deeper reconciliation, healing and shared growth.
Over the past five years, the Catholic Church has been on a journey of Synodality, prompted by the late Pope Francis and now emphasised again by his successor, Pope Leo XIV. Synodality is not a strategy or a solution; it is a way of being together as God’s people. It is our human attempt to answer the question, “What does God want of the Church at this time?” This time, this era, this messy but interesting place, is where God intends us to start. And it starts with forgiveness of ourselves and others, so that we can truly understand that God is a God of Forgiveness.
The Synodal Pathway calls us to listen attentively, discern together and walk side by side. This journey is only possible when we deliberately let go of resentment or fear and choose the daily practice of mutual forgiveness. Forgiveness is the glue that holds the Synodal Pathway together, keeping the journey open when listening becomes difficult, when discernment reveals uncomfortable truths, and when the temptation arises to withdraw or dominate.
An emerging Church of co-responsible action depends on relationships of genuine trust, where the freedom of forgiveness allows people to participate fully, take necessary risks, make honest mistakes and begin again together in shared hope.
On this very day, forty-five years ago, Bishop Laurence Forristal was installed as Bishop of Ossory, having already been an auxiliary Bishop in Dublin. We are in a very different Ireland and a very different Church from 13 September 1981. Much has changed, and needed to change, in society, in Church and in life; but what matters to us today, on 13 September 2026, is where we can go from here: ‘What new way of being God’s people with each other are we invited to explore?’
Starting today, the question has also been broadened for us as parishioners as to how we can be God’s people across diocesan boundaries – boundaries that have remained impermeable since the year 1111 AD. It will be a key task of discernment in the immediate future to see how the many varied tasks of Church can best be carried out by working together. I feel that the best growth will be in collaboration in everyday tasks, rather than an attempt to start at the top.
The establishment of lay ministry in many dioceses in Ireland is already under way, and both Ossory and Ferns are at different stages in this project. Gradually, as the years roll on, it will be possible to imagine committed, trained and commissioned lay people across both dioceses, collaborating in work, building supportive networks together, and working with clergy and other diocesan staff to bring the Good News to all: young and old, local and the stranger.
One of the many skills that will be needed for this journey is the one that today’s readings emphasise: the ability to forgive and overlook the small irritations that other people cause, and to recognise that we are already a forgiven people. This is the insight that the servant in today’s Gospel did not possess.
A few moments ago, I mentioned the forty-five-year gap since the installation of Bishop Forristal in this Cathedral. But I also want to mention some shorter gaps. The date on the Bull which was read at the start of this ceremony is 29 July, which is also the date ten years ago when Bishop Séamus Freeman retired, and it is now just over five years since I was ordained in Saint Aidan’s Cathedral in Enniscorthy. A shorter span of time, but much has happened in that gap – not least that five years ago we were still dealing with Covid-19 and the aftermath of the pandemic. And even though it was a traumatic and disconcerting time, we have almost forgotten the experience of lockdown to which we adapted. But the world changed then and continues to change now, and we are all called by our Baptism to offer the Gospel into that changing world.
As we enter into a journey of change, the words that link our Dioceses of Ferns and Ossory at this point are: ‘in persona episcopi‘. This role will require from me not just a new set of skills, but a rearrangement and a delegation of work on a large scale. As that work is delegated, it will have an impact on the lives, work and ministry of many people in both dioceses. The capacity and the skills needed by us all for the task ahead are not taught in colleges or classrooms. These come from the experience of walking the journey, starting with the real, trusting that God is at work even now in the world and in His people; and they are honed by the forgiveness of people who gently bring us back to the centre ground of reality.
There’s that word again: ‘forgiveness’, invisible as the air we breathe, but just as vital. The stories of forgiveness we read today are rooted in ownership and being deprived of it. Like Bull McCabe in the play and movie The Field, we often look at our lives, our grievances, or our hard-earned attachments and declare: ‘It’s my field. It’s my child. I nursed it. I nourished it. I dug the rocks out of it with my bare hands and I made a living thing of it!’
We frequently claim ownership over our past, fiercely guarding our grudges because we feel we have earned the right to them through sheer struggle.
But Christ calls us to a radical letting go. True forgiveness requires us to open those clenched hands, release our rigid grip on the ‘fields’ of our habits, and realise that healing begins only when we surrender our entitlement to God’s grace.
Some of the resistance to change that is experienced as we move along the Synodal Path arises from what I think I own, or what I think I am owed, which roles are mine and mine alone, and what belongs to others. No role within the Church should exist for the sole benefit of the holder, or be exercised without consultation or collaboration.
It is consistent with the Synodal Path that the Church worldwide insists that every role in the Church is one to be held in communion with people, and to draw everyone into a relationship with Christ.
At this time, the Church that we are laying the foundations of, in the Dioceses of Ossory and Ferns, will be a collaborative Church. The Church needs priests so that the Eucharist may nourish the whole Body, and she needs a fully involved laity so that the Body may carry Christ into every corner of the world. Forgiveness frees us from ranking one gift as some sort of add-on. The labour of the baptised is not just a useful but secondary activity that ultimately depends on the presence of a priest to become truly ecclesial. In reality, clergy and lay faithful walk the path to heaven as fellow pilgrims: each essential, each complementary, each loved by the Lord who calls us all.
We are where we are by God’s grace; let us set out together. Amen.