WORDS THAT SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES

On Tuesday 11th August, I attended the Installation of the new Archbishop of Hobart, Tony Ireland, at St Mary’s Cathedral in Hobart. What follows is just one small section of his Homily during the Mass. It is the part that most resonated with me. Indeed, it nearly brought me to tears — not because it was particularly profound, moving, or inspiring, but because it was so human, humble, and healing.

So for the Newsletter Reflection this week, I offer not my own thoughts, but the words of His Grace, Archbishop Tony Ireland, verbatim. His words speak for themselves.

From the Homily of His Grace, Archbishop Tony Ireland, Tuesday 11th August at St Mary's Cathedral

This moment is not new. It is ancient and richly graced.

Alongside Adelaide, the Archdiocese of Hobart was established in 1842, carved out from Sydney's early Church. Memo to Archbishop Fisher and Bishop Meagher, Sydney became a Metropolitan sea because of Hobart and Adelaide.

From convict chaplaincies to schools and parishes scattered across this island, Tasmania's Catholic story has been one of quiet fidelity, courageous perseverance, and grace upon grace.

To stand here is to stand in the footprints of missionaries, religious laity and families, often poor, often struggling but always faithful. We honour this history today with sacred objects that span our story.

We will use at Mass the chalice of Bishop Wilson, the first Bishop of Hobart. I am wearing the pectoral cross of Archbishop Hayden, and I'm carrying today the silver crosier of Archbishop Young. And whilst we cherish our past, we must also lean into the question: ‘How will we be faithful in our own God-given time?’

The Word of God that we've just heard offers us an answer. In the First Reading from the Book of Wisdom, we hear of those who admire the cosmos, yet failed to know its creator: “If they were capable of acquiring enough knowledge to investigate the world, how have they been so slow to find its master?”

On the Mornington Peninsula, where I served until just recently, there’s a plaque that reads — and it paraphrases that Book of Wisdom — and it says, “If you enjoy the view, praise the God who made it.”

How desperately our world needs that message. We live in an age of AI and unprecedented brilliance, yet one tarnished by spiritual famine. Even here at the ends of the Earth, faith is often misunderstood, misrepresented or forgotten. Ours is a task of reawakening awe, rekindling wonder, and restoring the sacred. This is the mission.

Again, Pope Francis, quoting Pope John Paul II, in his Apostolic Exhortation to us in this part of the world, Ecclesia in Oceania, wrote this:

“All renewal in the Church must have mission as its go, if it is not to fall prey to a kind of ecclesial introversion. That is the church for which we must strive: outward facing, radiant with joy, walking with those at the margins; the unbaptised, the searching, the hurt, and the forgotten.”

St Peter spoke to us tenderly through the Second Reading: “Bow down then before the power of God. Unload your worries onto Him, since He's looking after you.”

None of us — Bishop, Priest, or faithful — bears the weight alone. God is our caretaker. Our task is humble service, secured in trust. St Peter’s words reach from their time into this moment: “The God of all grace will comfort, strengthen and support you… us.”