We are pleased to share the homily by Bishop Nicholas from Mass earlier this Christmas Day:
We are here because we believe. Jesus himself told us, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” We have not seen and yet we believe: we believe, as we profess in the Creed, that he is God from God, light from light, true God from true God. With St John in today’s Gospel, we too can say, “we have seen his glory!”
Pope St John Paul II helps us understand what I mean. John Paul used to speak of seeds of the Word – seeds of the Word being sown in the hearts of all humankind. We are here because seeds of the Word were sown at some point in our hearts too. Those seeds of the Word the Holy Spirit tended and nurtured into faith. Where they grow into beautifully spiritual people, we say, “we have seen his glory!”
God chose not only to sow seeds of the Word: he willed that the Word be make flesh, and that he should dwell among us. Then the Spirit was given; and, through the Spirit, the Word made his home in us. St Irenaeus, great 2nd century theologian, captures this beautifully with a phrase which seems at first obscure; but then becomes very clear.
“Living in the Son of God made man,” he says, “the Holy Spirit became accustomed to living in man.” “Living in the Son of God made man,” he says, “the Holy Spirit became accustomed to living in man.” In other words, living in the Son, God the Father came to live in us through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Pope Francis said something very moving about this “living in us” in the last letter he wrote to the People of God. It was called Dilexit nos, He has loved us, God has loved us. In that letter, he chooses to say, you may like to think you have Jesus’s name written on your heart – as indeed you do; but you need also to believe that he has your name written on his heart too. He has your name written on his.
I find in what Pope Francis says here a wonderful echo of words to be found in a book written a century before Christ’s coming into the world – in the ancient Book of Solomon. There the author says to God, “Set me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death.” “Set me like a seal over your heart.” The idea of our love being written on God’s heart and his on ours is a beautiful sentiment to reflect upon this day of all days, when we celebrate our belief that the Word, the Word who called us into life, became flesh, enfleshed, was revealed to the world with a beating human heart; and that, through the power of the Spirit, he has our names written on his heart – for eternity.
Now that I’m a part of Plymouth Diocese, I can’t help but be transported by such thoughts as these to thinking of our own hero-martyr, St Cuthbert Mayne. As the beautiful icon behind me reminds us, he certainly bore the image of Christ on his heart. There he literally bore a seal of love. As you can see in the picture, it was a wax seal, bearing the image of the Lamb of God. Such an image was called an ‘Agnus Dei’, a “Lamb of God’. And it was against the Law to be caught wearing it. It was because of that, because he also had with him a papal bull; and, much more significantly, because he had been travelling all over Cornwall to celebrate Mass, that he was put to death. Of him, most certainly, we can say that we have seen Christ’s glory in him. It is a glory that shines down the ages.
And it continues to shine – to be a light in the darkness of our times; a light which shines out of the darkness of persecution four centuries back right back into the 21st century. In the 21st century, we’ve had the joy of celebrating a young man whose holiness was recognised by Pope Leo just this autumn – when he canonised young Carlo Acutis. Carlo was only 15 when he died. And yet he showed, in a very short life, just how radically Christ can make is home in someone. He loved to help: he was often to be seen in the neighbourhood helping old people with their shopping; befriending lonely immigrants. He had a real love for the homeless, regularly bringing them food and bedding and clothes.
He was also a computer genius. He was writing programmes at 11. He used his gift to help others; and also to develop a website with a huge exhibition of Eucharistic miracles. When asked why, he would say it was to help others believe. Although he was only 15, he had such a busy life that he needed an agenda on is desktop; and against every entry he wrote the words, “We have seen his glory!” The very words we hear St John speak today of Christ.
“We have seen his glory!” Meaning? We have seen his love and power and grace at work in others; and our hearts rejoice.
Of course, Carlo had little idea that others saw Christ’s glory in him – though he did used to ask his mother, “Mum, are my eyes still bright?” Because he believed that, if you have Christ’s love in you, it shows in your eyes. He wasn’t yet 16 when he died suddenly of leukaemia. His funeral was huge. It was full not just of his family and school-friends but also all the poor people of the locality whom he’d helped without his parents knowing about it.
Carlo believed; and he helps us in our unbelief. I take inspiration for that phrase directly from St Peter. You will remember how Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” When Peter says that, he is speaking for each of us: because we believe too; it’s because we believe that we are here; but we lack belief too.
I hope that hearing of Carlo warms your heart; awakens your belief. Because Carlo shows us that Christ is indeed born again, in every generation, in the hearts of believers; that, in certain individuals, his glory really shines out. Carlo encourages us to believe that Christ waits to be born again in the hearts of each one of us too. I would urge you to set a little time aside this Christmas Day to be still with the Christchild and pray; pray with St Irenaeus, with St Cuthbert Mayne, with St Carlo, that the seeds of the Word which God the Father has sown in your heart be nurtured by the Spirit to bear fruit at least a little bit like theirs.