12th Sunday in Ordinary Time
St Mary’s Cathedral, Sunday 10.30am Mass
Welcome one and all to St Mary’s Cathedral and welcome to those joining our Mass online.
As we come to the Winter Solstice this weekend—we have the shortest day and longest night. And here in the most Southern Capital of the world, we have longest nights in the world last night and this evening. There is something deeply attractive about darkness. It fascinates us. It promises mystery, freedom, escape. Perhaps this explains why so many people are drawn to spectacles and festivals that flirt with the bizarre and the macabre. Some of it may be theatre. Some of it may be harmless fun. Yet beneath it all there is a note that jars with the human spirit, a sacrilegious undertone which turns what is holy into something that can be mocked.
Our Christian faith has never been fascinated by darkness. It has always proclaimed light.
The prophet Jeremiah knew darkness. He knew ridicule, betrayal, and isolation. “Terror from every side!” he says. People were watching for his downfall. Yet he refused to surrender to despair because he knew something greater. “The Lord is at my side, a mighty hero.”
That is not the language of someone who has escaped suffering. It is the language of someone who has discovered that evil is not all-powerful.
St Paul wrote something similar. Sin entered the world through one man, but grace entered through one man also, and grace is greater. Evil has always promised freedom, but in the end it enslaves. Pride always turns in on itself. Darkness always seeks its own glory.
If you want to see what grace looks like, look at the history of Christian people. Hospitals were built because believers saw Christ in the sick. Schools were established because they believed every child was made in the image of God. Soup kitchens and shelters sprang up because Christians recognised the face of Jesus in the poor. Down through the centuries, countless women and men, inspired by the grace of God alive in their hearts, have poured themselves out in love.
The powers of darkness have never built one hospital. They have never founded one school. They have never fed the hungry or comforted the dying. Evil consumes. Grace creates.
That is why the Church never gathers around fear. We gather around Jesus Christ.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus says repeatedly: “Do not be afraid.”
Do not be afraid of those who oppose you. When the census comes this year, do not be afraid to acknowledge your faith. Never be afraid because your heavenly Father knows even the hairs on your head.
Fear is one of the great weapons of darkness. It whispers that we are alone, forgotten, abandoned. But Jesus tells us that we are precious in the eyes of God. We matter infinitely to him.
Today we will celebrate this Eucharist using the prayer which speaks of Jesus as the Way to the Father. How much our world needs to hear that? There are many roads that promise enlightenment and liberation. Only one road leads home. Only one voice says, “Come to me.” Only one Lord enters the darkness of Good Friday and emerges victorious in the light of Easter morning.
Perhaps that is why the hymns we sing today are so beautiful and true.
We know ourselves to be people who have been saved by amazing grace. We know there are parts of our lives hidden from others but never hidden from God’s merciful love. We know that Christ calls us out of darkness into his wonderful light. And we know that Christ himself is the sure foundation on which a life, a family, a society and indeed a civilisation can be built.
The world does not need more darkness. It does not need more cynicism or mockery of Christian symbols.
Our world and our people need hope.
It needs men and women who quietly, faithfully, and joyfully witness to Jesus Christ.
Jeremiah ends today’s first reading in song: “Sing to the Lord, praise the Lord, for he has delivered the soul of the needy.”
Notice that the prophet does not say that he might deliver nor that he used to deliver.
The Lord has delivered our souls, and this is our song too.
Darkness never has the last word.
Christ does. He is our life, our freedom, and our love.
And his light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never and will never overcome it.
Most Rev. Anthony J. Ireland
Archbishop of Hobart
21 June 2026