Given at St James, Spanish Place on the parish’s feast day, Friday 26 July.

The first lesson we draw from the Gospel passage we have just heard is that mothers might be a little cautious in what they wish for their children!

Jesus is direct. In response to this mother’s demand, born of her unswerving desire for only the best for her children, Jesus said: ‘You do not know what you are asking!’ and then, to her two boys, ‘Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?’

The theme of sacrifice is written through this entire feast day of St James. It’s written in capital letters, too.

The First Reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, establishes the ultimate priority of James among the Apostles. He was clearly the head of the Church in Jerusalem, presiding over the Council of Jerusalem and bringing it to its definitive decision (Acts 15). But in this reading, we learn that James was the first to be executed for his faith by the Roman authorities. He is the first of the Apostles to give his life in martyrdom, in fulfilment of his reply to Jesus that he was indeed ‘able’ to drink this cup. This was the test of love that he was ready to accept.

Participation in this cup of suffering of Jesus can take many different forms.

John, the brother of James, the other ‘Son of Thunder’, as far as we know, died in his old age. In our tradition, his suffering came with his exile from Ephesus, where he preached and led the Christian community, to the isle of Patmos. Patmos was a Roman penal colony, where most prisoners faced hard labour. John, in old age, was probably excused that fate. It was here, in this harsh isolation, that the prophetic visions recorded in the Book of Revelations were received. He too shared in the cup of suffering over decades of faithful service.

James and John are also always associated with Peter, for it was these three who shared the most intimate and revealing moments of the life of Jesus. They are sometimes described as ‘the A team’. They were present at the Transfiguration and at the raising from the dead of Jairus’ daughter, and they were present with Jesus in his last hours in the Garden of Gethsemane. They were his closest friends. And, each in his own way, his most loyal witnesses. Peter, too, shared the cup of suffering. But, as we heard in the reading, his imprisonment was cut short for he had a task ahead of him: to be the rock of the Church.

The image we have of St James, here in the church and on the front of our Mass booklet, hints at the later stories of St James: the journey of his body, carried by divine intent, to the shores of Galicia; then the ninth century account of the finding of his resting place in a location where lights and angels were seen. Hence it became known as Compostela – ‘field of the star’. Thus, we have James clothed as a pilgrim, with hat, shell and water gourd, images now known throughout the world.

But James also carries the sword of his martyrdom, pointing to the foundation of every pilgrimage: the desire to give first place, in all things, to the majesty of God. Pilgrimage, as a training ground for everyday life, deepens in us the desire to be ready for sacrifice in our answer the question posed to us too, ‘Are you (too) able to drink the cup that I am to drink?’

At the heart of every pilgrimage, then, is the theme of sacrifice. A pilgrimage involves the sacrifice of time and comfort. It requires a priority to be given to the needs of others, leaving behind personal prestige so as to embrace the companionship of fellow pilgrims without privilege or distinction. And these qualities, as pilgrimage is meant to teach us, are the foundations of a good life, a life in Jesus.

St Paul, in his reflections on being a disciple, interweaves life and death, suffering and success, saying that we are ‘always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifest in our bodies.’ This interweaving of success and loss, of triumph and defeat, of strength and weakness, characterises our lives. They are movements we cannot escape. So, in us too, the theme of sacrifice marks our pathway: moments of selfless generosity, times of determined faithfulness, and most radically, handing over ourselves to the greater power and providence of God. This is the pathway of life proclaimed by James, by John and by Peter. It is the pathway of sacrifice rather than self-satisfaction.

The celebration of Mass, here this evening and in every Mass, has at its heart the sacrifice of Jesus.

First, we are led, by the Word of God, to appreciate that the fulness of life is to be found in the pathway of sacrifice given in love. Then we take the elements of our pilgrimage, bread and wine, toil and pleasure, and offer them, and ourselves, to God. By God’s action they become the sacrament and real presence of the Body and Blood of the Lord, ‘given up for you’, ‘poured out for you’.

At this moment we are standing at the foot of the Cross, on the hill of Calvary. Here we have to understand that while the death of Jesus was an historical event, on a certain day in a certain place, it is also a timeless action in an eternal present. This is so for Jesus, uniquely holding together the human and divine, goes beyond the limits of time and space and is always the sacrificial lamb who, in this timeless now, is forever offering himself on the Cross to take away our sins.

At this point in the Mass, the instructions given to the priest are important: that ‘He shows the consecrated host, and the chalice, to the people’ in the elevation, with the ringing of the bell.

But what exactly are we being shown? Yes, the Body and Blood of Christ. And more. For, at that moment, we are taken up into the timeless action in which the crucified Christ is presented to his Father, having fulfilled the Father’s will and given his all in his act of great obedience. This is what we are doing at the elevation: taking part in that eternal moment, an eternal NOW, in which the Son is presented to the Father who gazes on his crucified Son with utter love and thanksgiving. Thus is poured out on the world the Holy Spirit, the love of Father and Son, given in an act of new creation, new life, for our salvation.

Miraculously we become part of that moment. In celebrating the Mass, we are told that ‘we minister’ to the Father, presenting to Him the sacrifice of Christ. As the Body and Blood of Jesus are raised before us they are raised to our heavenly Father. And we are raised with him. For we are bound to Christ, offering our own love and sacrifices in union with him. We too, then, are embraced by the loving gaze of the Father and receive the outpouring of that love in the Holy Spirit to reawaken His presence within us and renew our life and faith.

The action of the Mass then continues: the great hymn of praise, our speaking together the prayer that Jesus gave us and our receiving his Body and Blood as our nourishment for our continuing pilgrimage.

The sacrifice of Jesus, and the sacrifices of James and John and Peter, lay bare the heart of love. Love enables every sacrifice. Every act of self-sacrifice, in our daily lives too, portrays and deepens the love which, in the end, gives meaning and hope and salvation to our lives.

Today, on this feast of St James, we rejoice in him as the great trailblazer of faithful loving highlighted in sacrifice. In his life and especially in his death, he imitates so fully his beloved Master. We offer this Holy Mass, this ultimate act of sacrifice of Jesus being presented to our loving Father in a timeless present, as our act of thanksgiving for this great patron saint. May he, with his pilgrim hat, his shell and his sword of martyrdom, always accompany us as we too make our pilgrim way to our heavenly Father.

Amen.