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Given at the Mass celebrating the 200th Anniversary of St Alban’s Church, Macclesfield on 11th June 2022

On this Feast of St Barnabas, we have listened to the passage from the Acts of the Apostles telling us about his part in the birth of the early Church, along with Saul, shortly to become Paul. They are among the many figures that appear in this remarkable account. 

We know how it begins: the transformation of the apostles from frightened men into bold messengers of the Gospel. This is a great story, full of drama, incident and characters. In today’s reading, we hear of Simeon, Lucius and Manaen. They sound a bit like characters from Up Pompeii! but without Frankie Howard. More seriously, there is Stephen, the first martyr, then the conversion of Cornelius, the centurion, the stories of Simon, the leather tanner, of the Ethiopian in his chariot and of another Simon, known as the magician. Later we hear of another magician, called Elymas who is told by Paul that he is ‘an utter fraud’. This is like a great mosaic, full of colour and characters, all brought to life by the power of the Holy Spirit. 

Yet there is another mosaic we can contemplate this afternoon: the story of the church here in Macclesfield, the history of your parish in this town of Hovis and AstraZeneca. The Fauconburg family and Sutton Hall, where they sheltered the Catholics of the early eighteenth century; then the ministry of Fr Kenyon, in 1791 gathering Catholics in Blackwallgate, (I learn that here the word 'gate' simply means road or street). Then, from France, arrives Fr Louis Benjamin and, with the easing of anti-Catholic restrictions, the emergence of the school and chapel of St Michael. This was about 1811 and so our story is nearing this great 200th anniversary. Today we recall the first official appointment of a parish priest to this community, on 17th April 1821. The newly ordained Fr John Hall, from Ushaw College, founded in 1808, came to build up this mission. And, it was he who consolidated the dedication of your parish to St Alban, the first martyr in this country, by acquiring a relic of the martyr from Cologne in 1852.

Other figures appear in this Macclesfield mosaic: Canon Patrick Cleary, who had no truck with drunkenness and was determined to give the parish firm financial foundations; and Mgr Henry Kelly, the great cyclist who knew how to economise, skills that we will certainly need in this emerging climate of escalating costs. I can also see Mr Edward Lomas and Mr Paul Bartoli, men of different talents, who served and sustained the parish for many recent decades. So many people fill this proud mosaic, many names not known to me, but they will be to you. As in the Acts of the Apostles themselves, all these too were filled with the Holy Spirit and gave themselves, according to their different callings, to our Blessed Lord and to the work of his Gospel and life and joy.

And this brings us to the Gospel of the day and the words of Jesus, addressed as freshly to us, here and now, as they were when they were first proclaimed: 'As you go, proclaim that the Kingdom of Heaven is close at hand', doing so freely, joyfully expecting nothing in return.

How do we receive these words and act on them today? 

Well, we receive them with gratitude that we do not live in the age of actual persecution, as did our forebears of this parish. Yet we also receive them with some puzzlement as to how on earth we are to proclaim that the Kingdom of Heaven is close at hand in an age that seems to have closed its mind and heart to that reality?

There are so many possible answers to that dilemma: an increase in courage on our part; a greater willingness to confront the contradictions in current trends, such as proclaiming the value of life in all its differences yet, at the same time, promoting abortion; or a readiness to engage in apologetics and argue the truths of faith as the declaration of the truth of our humanity. Yes, there are many challenges as we take to heart the Lord's command.

But, today, just for now, I would like to use only one word to express the challenge as I see it. It is a word that has emerged very strongly in some of the conversations of this process of the Synod pathway of listening to which Pope Francis has called us. It is the word ‘accompaniment', or walking with, or staying close, no matter what.

Accompaniment is a way in which to show that the Kingdom is close at hand: by staying close to those who surround us, especially those, and there are many, who sense that they are alone or neglected or left outside, especially those who are in a time of crisis and feel forlorn. And, this is something within the scope, the gift of us all. Here is a mission that needs simply a greatness of heart.

The challenge of genuine accompaniment, then, is for all of us. It calls us beyond our usual way of living, for we all like to establish boundaries of safety for ourselves. 'This far and no further', we say. 

Such accompaniment is a challenge for every parish. Who are those who feel that they do not belong, or fear they are not made welcome? Can we reach out and say, 'No, we are close'?

It is a challenge for every organisation, to look at itself and ask how easy is it for those who are different to join in our activities? 

It is a question for each one of us. Do we really try to be close to those we meet regularly, with whom we might work or live, not a 'crowding them out' closeness, nor a clinging, needy, closeness, but simply making it clear that no matter what happens we will not turn away, not in judgement, nor in disdain, nor in fear?

This requires a strength of purpose, certainly. But it also requires our closeness to our Blessed Lord. When we know that he always accepts each of us, with all our faults and failings, only then will we understand that he accepts everyone else too. In this way, we can begin to see his presence in the other person, in every other person, loved and accepted by the Lord, be they polished or disfigured, erudite or confused, buoyant or depressed.

Accompaniment is so sharply needed today. It is the pathway along which we must walk if we are ever to draw people to the only one who will never abandon them, who alone will accompany them, us, through the fearful gates of death. Yes, Jesus accompanies us always. He who is closest to the Father's heart, makes the Kingdom of Heaven just a hair's breadth away from us, anywhere, anytime. He is indeed the good shepherd, the one we must emulate as best we can.

I must finish. But with one last point. 

It is good to remember that the invitation of Jesus to be perfect, to observe all the commandments, was made, for the most part, to his friends. Friendship with the Lord is what makes sense of his commandments. Without that friendship today, they evoke puzzlement and dismay. It is this friendship we are to embody and show, if we are to draw others into the life-giving commandments of our way of the Catholic faith. Unswerving accompaniment is, I believe, the first step of the proclamation of the Gospel. 

The desire to meet, to be with and to engage with, new people sent the first apostles on their great journeys. It was this desire to be with the people of Macclesfield that inspired your first patrons and priests. It is the same love, drawn from the side of Christ, that will reinvigorate our mission today and give you fresh light and energy to play your part in the next Macclesfield mosaic, the next two hundred years of this great story.   So let it be.  Amen.  

 

✠ Cardinal Vincent Nichols
Archbishop of Westminster

Photo: Cardinal pictured in Westminster Cathedral in 2017 (Mazur/CBCEW.org.uk)