Given for the ordinations of James Boyle and Seán Power to the priesthood at Westminster Cathedral on 28 June 2025.
This morning we humbly approach the throne of God seeking the grace of ordination for these two men, James and Seán. This is an awesome moment. And in it, we are joined by many saints, women and men, whom we will invoke and who will add powerfully to our prayer.
There are three saints whom I would like to mention just now: St John Southworth, whose holy body is here amongst us and whose Feast Day is today; and the great Apostles, Peter and Paul, whom we celebrate tomorrow. One or two others may pop in on the way.
Every priest in this Diocese is following in the footsteps of St John Southworth. He ministered so faithfully in the streets of Clerkenwell and Westminster for the best part of 25 years, despite being arrested, imprisoned or deported five times. He just kept coming back. His faithfulness, in the face of opposition and adversity, and at the cost of his life, is forever exemplary to us all. On June 28, 1654, he was put to death, simply for being a Catholic priest.
The words of the first Reading apply to him:
'So in this way, he died, leaving in his death an example of nobility and a memorial of courage, not only to the young but to the great body of his nation.' (2 Maccabees 6:31).
The obstacles he faced threatened his very life. That is not so for us today. Yet difficulties and opposition do confront us. Think only of the two recent votes of our Parliament, to make legal the abortion of a baby up to the moment of his or her birth, and to permit the assisted suicide of a person facing the coming of death. These decisions reflect a change of mood, a shift of culture, a shaking of the foundations of our society.
How do we react?
As Catholics, we are resolved to continue to play our part in building the common good. These decisions of Parliament do not change our firm belief in the sanctity of life, never simply a burden, but always a gift of God, given and received. Our duties are clear: to live by the teaching given to us by God; generously to accompany with care and compassion those facing disability, isolation and suffering; to continue to put forward, with respect and clarity, the objective norms that arise from our firm beliefs on how to live, and how to die, well.
This is the moment in which we live, in which you, James and Seán, shall live your priesthood. That is not a cause for dismay, not at all. Rather it is a call to a deeper sense of compassion and service, in the fashion of our beloved saint.
The priesthood you are entering by God's grace, then, is not a path of ease and comfort. Indeed, let me now invoke another of our Saints, one to whom we should be paying attention, St Augustine of Hippo. Our new Holy Father, Pope Leo himself said: ‘I am a son of Augustine'.
Augustine found priesthood difficult. Indeed he wrote in a letter: ‘There is nothing in this life more taxing, more arduous, or more perilous than the office of bishop, priest, or deacon.’
Later, in a sermon, he added:
'To lead a life of leisure, free from care - little force would be needed to make me do that. There could be nothing more enjoyable than rummaging about the divine treasure chest, with no one to plague me … But preaching, arguing, rebuking, building God's house, having to manage for everyone - who would not shrink from such a heavy burden?' (Sermon 339).
So today we all promise our prayers and support to our two new priests. We do so willingly as we welcome them into this ministry in the midst of the Church.
But now let me turn to another of the saints whom we will shortly invoke: St Peter. In his moment of crisis, full of remorse at his betrayal of the Lord, he was asked the one question that really matters. And to emphasise the point, Jesus asked this of Peter three times: 'Do you love me?'
Here we come to the very heart of our lives and calling, be that in priesthood, profession, friendship, marriage or family life. Our Blessed Lord asks us: 'Do you love me?' And if, with Peter, we can respond, 'Yes, Lord, you know that I love you!', then our lives are set on firm foundations.
Let this question echo in our hearts this morning. It has done so in the hearts of these two candidates for ordination. Let everyone of us find great comfort in the response that we give: 'Yes, Lord, you know that I love you, despite my failings, my confusion, my often wayward heart.'
I turn again to St Augustine. The classic symbol for his followers, and one that Pope Leo has included in his coat of arms, is that of a radiant heart pierced by an arrow. The image illustrates the words Augustine wrote in his Confessions: 'Lord, You have pierced my heart with your Word!'
This is at the centre of every vocation to the priesthood: to be captivated by the love of the Lord, by the total attractiveness of his Word. Only this can sustain us day by day through all the different tasks which come our way.
Augustine, as we know, was restless. So he continues to question:
'But when I love thee what is it that I love?' And in his response, listing the good things of God's creation, he said: 'none of these things do I love when I love my God'. Rather, he said, 'When I love my God I love the true Light, and Voice, and the true Fragrancy, and Food, and the Embrace of my inward Man.'
Knowing this embrace of my inward self by Jesus is the greatest gift of loving faith. Today this embrace of James and Seán is lovingly fashioning them into the life and character of priesthood. It is precisely this love of Jesus that, in the wonderful words of St Paul (whom we must not forget), 'overwhelms' us, or 'urges us on' to embrace all those put into our care, bringing peace and reconciliation, urging them never to neglect the grace that they have received (2 Corinthians 5:14-6:1). Ministry is rooted in this love of Jesus, or it has no roots at all.
There is one moment in this ceremony, still to come, which is particularly eloquent. Shortly, the bread and wine to be used in this Mass will be brought forward and presented to James and Seán. And I say these poignant words:
'Receive the oblation of the holy people to be offered to God.'
Yes, the substance of the offering of the Mass is received from the people. Every time we priests pick up the paten containing the bread, we are lifting to God the efforts and prayers of our people. Every time we raise the chalice, it is their joys and sorrows that we offer to God. He accepts these gifts, for they are the offering of Jesus himself, who has bound himself to us through our baptism and lives in and through us each day.
What does this mean? To me it means that written in the heart of every priest is not only the name of Jesus, who has pierced that heart, but also, written in his heart are the names of the people for whom that priest has care. This is his bond, his contract with his people: that their lives, their sufferings, their joys, their every effort will be in his heart. From there, they become assumed into, and transformed by, the great prayer of the Mass, and raised ultimately to their fulfilment.
This is the fullness of love that pierces the hearts of the priests of the Lord. This is the true priesthood which we pray will be established in these two men today and sustained in them through all the years to come.
Amen.
✠ Cardinal Vincent Nichols
Archbishop of Westminster