Here in Lourdes, we are in an awe-inspiring place. For all of us who come here, Lourdes is a place of hope, and a place of faith.
And it is more: Lourdes is a place of truth, where we come to see
what truly is and what truly matters. The words of Jacob in the First
Reading are our words too: “Truly the Lord is in this place,” (Gen 28:17) and we see the fruits of his presence in the acceptance and healing, and transformation which unfold here for so many.
To come to Lourdes is to come to a place where change is put before us.
One of the characteristics of the Lord’s presence is that we begin to
be aware that there is more than our own conviction at play, something
greater than our human effort is at work. In this place, a rockface
beside a small river, the Virgin Mary appeared to Bernadette. The
closeness to Heaven, and the closeness of the Kingdom, and its healing,
are still in this place.
There is more than a coincidence between the Story of Mary and the story of Bernadette: both came from unknown places (John 1:46),
both young women in a society where women were often invisible. Both
women were courageous, both overcame their hesitation and their fear,
and both have much to teach us about prayer, and about life.
In today’s Gospel we hear Mary’s great prayer, the Magnificat. The Magnificat,
however, is more than a great prayer, it is a School of Prayer, and
even more than a School of Prayer, is a School of Life, as authentic
prayer always flows out of the lives we actually live. The Mother of
our Lord shows us how to follow her Son, how to welcome the life he
offers us: “Do as he tells you,” as she told the servants at Cana (John 2:5).
Mary’s great prayer can teach us many things about prayer and life; I would like to underline three of them:
– First, Mary’s prayer is a prayer born of Scripture. She makes her own the Song of Hannah from the Old Testament (1 Sam 2:1–10). She prays to God, in the words of God.
– Second, Mary’s prayer is not a prayer turned in on herself, but a prayer turned towards God, our Father. And,
– Thirdly, Mary’s prayer is a call to living like Jesus, to prophetic
living. To live as Christ lives is our way to salvation, to life
itself. The Magnificat is a song of reversal, a hymn of praise
to God the Father, for the mystery of His way. It prefigures the
prayer of Jesus that we heard a few weeks ago, where he prays “I
bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things
from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere infants” (Matt 11:25).
Mary prays, “he casts the mighty from their thrones and raises the up the lowly” (Luke 1:52).
Here in Lourdes we are in a place where the lowly are raised up. Think
of Saint Bernadette herself! A living parish is a community which has
an eye for those who are left behind, not just in material things, but
also in the people’s dignity, in their possibilities for hope and for
joy.
The challenge for us, of course, is to know how we engage in the
establishment of justice. “We cannot remain as unengaged spectators,”
as Pope Leo said on Wednesday, “rather, we must listen with our hearts,
allow ourselves to be challenged, and become involved.” (General Audience, Wednesday, September 2nd, 2026).
Sometimes, it seems that injustice is so embedded in the fabric of our
lives that it is almost inconceivable that things could be ordered
differently. Indeed, the great power of those who dominate our
societies is to turn their version of reality into what gets accepted as
common sense.
The radical vision of Mary’s prayer goes far beyond a call to acts of
charity. It brings us to live with compassion and solidarity and,
ultimately, to the struggle for what is right. The mighty have rarely
been content to step meekly (Matt 5:5) from their thrones, and the rich remain rich, by making sure they are not “sent empty away” (Luke 1:53).
In order to break free of the paralysing grip of the status quo,
we need to see things as they truly are, not as others would have us
see them. An obvious example of something which has been normalised to
the point where we are no longer exercised about it, is the housing
crisis, especially in our capital city. Is it not extraordinary that
almost a whole generation of young people have all but given up the hope
of having a home of their own? Living with parents long after the time
when people would expect to live independently, seems often to be the
only alternative to emigration. And those who do find their own place
often experience unrelenting financial pressure in paying their rent or
mortgage.
But, even more than this, is what one might call the hidden homelessness
that is ubiquitous at home in Dublin and throughout Ireland. How
visible are the young adults who live with relations, or the increasing
numbers of families with children who rely on emergency accommodation?
I acknowledge that the situation is complex, and that many initiatives
have been taken and substantial public funds invested in alleviating
what all accept to be a housing crisis. It is also true that
initiatives take time to have an effect, and that increasing housing
supply – which is ultimately the only effective response to unmet demand
– cannot be achieved overnight.
That said, can we really say that the crisis which is blighting the
lives of so many, is an overriding concern in our society? Do we see vested interests being challenged? Are established ways of doing things being set aside? Are property rights, and other rights, being reconsidered in the face of such gross denial of people’s basic right to housing? And what about the exploitation of those who are vulnerable through their precarious housing situation? It is not a law of nature that requires landlords to extract the highest possible rent from their tenants. It is not
a technical inevitability of housing management, that those who control
property exploit the desperate by packing them into disgraceful living
conditions, overcrowded, ignoring basic standards, and which have the
renter pay dearly for this “privilege”.
If we cease to be shocked; if we dismiss our anger; if we continue to
look the other way, then this injustice and the suffering it causes will
continue. But the really challenging aspect of reflecting on our
housing crisis in the light of the gospel, is that the finger also
points not only at the government, not only at international investors,
not only at planners or developers, it points also at ourselves. Part
of being a person of faith is embracing the stony path to justice.
Justice always comes at a cost. If we own our homes, might we secretly
be hoping that the crisis continues so that property values remain
high? If we enjoy a pleasant environment with many amenities, does that
increase our silent sympathy for those who submit planning objections?
When it comes to election time, do we support those we think will
allocate resources that benefit us, rather than to those whose needs,
including housing, are the most urgent?
This examination of conscience is for us all: it is not just for those
who are comfortable, it is also for our diocese, and for all the
religious organisations in our Church. We are all called to reflect
anew on our use of resources, our property, and our land (Laudato Sì…93 “The earth is essentially a shared inheritance, whose fruits are meant to benefit everyone”).
Mary praises the Lord because of his faithfulness to his promise of mercy (Luke 1:54-55).
Lourdes is a place where mercy is never far away. Here, we are moving
in the gate of heaven. We live out God’s mercy in the way we walk with each other, and carry each other. As we pray in the Our Father, “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us” (Matt 5:12). Nobody can tread the path of forgiveness in our stead.
“How awe-inspiring is this place! This is nothing less than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven!” (Gen 28:17).
May our days in this place, where Heaven touches Earth, help us to grow
in awareness of all the gateways to heaven that the Holy Spirit opens
before us.
O Mary, who appeared to Bernadette in this place help us to hear the voice of your Son.
O Immaculate Conception, fill us with your hope in your Son.
Saint Bernadette, woman of faith and courage, pray for us.