St Mary’s Cathedral, Sydney, 30 April 2026
The great Catholic novelist Flannery O’Connor produced some of the most startling and grace-filled fiction of the twentieth century. She once said that a story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way.[1] While creeds, canons and councils, as well as the living testimony of Christian lives, can take us a long way, it is often stories that carry us, as Jesus the great parable-teller knew.
In our first reading (Acts 13:13-25), Saul (now called Paul) is on the first of his three great missionary journeys, this one with Barnabas, John Mark and others. It would take him from Tarsus and the Syrian Antioch (where we were first called ‘Christians’), all around the Isle of Cyprus, then to Perga and some major cities in modern-day Turkey.[2] Today we see him in the Pisidian Antioch, an Ancient Near Eastern crossroads and capital of the Roman province of Galatia—to which he would one day write an important epistle. In the synagogue on the Sabbath, he is invited to offer some ‘words of encouragement’ and we get to hear his first recorded sermon, given well before he wrote any of his famous letters. He traces the long narrative arc of God’s faithfulness to Israel, leading them out of slavery, through the wilderness, to the Promised Land. He touches on the stories of the judges, prophets and kings, including the Saul after whom he was named. His story comes to its climax in John the Baptist preaching repentance and the coming of the Messiah.
Part Two of Paul’s tale is the story of the life of Jesus, which comes to its apogee in execution under Pilate and vindication by God. His conclusion is both simple and arresting: “This message of salvation is meant for everyone!” (Acts 13:26). And this first Pauline homily was a hit: Luke claims that the following Sabbath the entire city gathered to hear him—perhaps 100,000 people[3]—and that the Word of the Lord “spread through the whole region” (Acts 13:44,49).
Today’s saint, Pius V, shared with Paul a singlemindedness modernity might find intimidating. His austerity, orthodoxy and intellectualism made him an unlikely guest at the best parties then or now. But he was a fascinating character. Born in northern Italy in 1504, Antonio Ghislieri entered the Dominicans at age 14, took the name Michele, trained as a preacher-theologian, and taught philosophy and theology for sixteen years. A devotee of the thought of St Thomas Aquinas, he would eventually proclaim him the fifth Latin Doctor of the Church.
While Ghislieri lacked earthly ambition and preferred the life of library, cloister and pulpit, he was a natural leader and reformer and soon found himself appointed inquisitor (1542-66), bishop (1556-72), cardinal (1557-66), and finally pope (1566-72). St Charles Borromeo convinced the conclave that only Ghislieri would “drain the swamp” that was Rome. He certainly tried: literally, reclaiming swampland so that Rome would be more hygenic; morally, campaigning against blasphemy, prostitution, sodomy and luxury; and spiritually, seeking to stamp out witchcraft, superstition and heresy, appointing bishops on spiritual merit rather than family, military or financial connections, and promoting prayer and devotion. Instead of the lavish ceremonial and banquet expected at a papal coronation, he donated the budget to the poor and sick. He dispensed with some of the papal trappings in favour of simpler Dominican threads, which so impressed that to this day popes wear a modified Dominican habit.
Pius went on to reform the liturgy with a new Breviary and Missal, catechesis by promulgating the first Roman Catechism, and priestly formation by establishing the seminary system. You might say he was a sixteenth-century answer to our twenty-first century questions: how to make our liturgies and lives more prayerful, our parishes and communities more Christ-centred, and our priests and people more missionary.
Pius was the right man for the job, but it was far from easy: he was pope at a time of widespread corruption in the Church, of deep division occasioned by the Protestant Reformation, and of a terrible threat from the Ottoman forces to wipe out Christian Europe. It fell to him to build upon what was best in the Church of his day, address the weaknesses with clarity and compassion, unite Church and society as best he could, breathe new life into the Church’s sacramental and devotional life, and preach the Gospel in season and out.
Pius did so knowing that the Church is no ordinary human institution—however ordinary and human its members are. Pastors are not chief executives. Parishioners are not ‘human resources’ or consumers. The Church is not a corporation or a parliament. In Christ’s Mystical Body, each member has a function, a calling to faith, ongoing conversion, and generous service. So, more is required than efficiency, professionalism or authority. What is needed is the whole People of God living the received Gospel in every corner of their lives…
In crisis Pius turned to the Blessed Mother in prayer. In 1569 he settled the fifteen Mysteries of the Rosary with the Aves in place of the 150 psalms. When the Ottomans threatened to overrun Europe in 1571, he called the whole continent to pray that Rosary. Against the odds, the Christians were victorious at Lepanto, which led to Mary’s titles and feasts as Our Lady of Victories, of the Rosary, and Help of Christians—under the last of which she is patron of the Church of Sydney and its cathedral, and of Australia.
In the Gospel Jesus addresses our synod directly: “No servant is greater than his master, no messenger greater than the one who sent him” (Jn 13:16-20). He charges us with demonstrating humility and docility in these days. It is not for us to reinvent the Church, the Gospel or the Faith, but to receive, treasure and share them. It is not for us to rebel, Jesus says, but to represent Him, so that “whoever welcomes you, welcomes Me.”
I pray such a sensibility will guide the Synod of Sydney just begun. Like St Pius V, we must be clear-eyed about the challenges of our times but confident of God’s graces. We are grateful for all the green shoots around us. For six years in a row, we’ve beaten all records for Easter baptisms and receptions. Our seminary is now so full I am looking for extra room. Our evangelisation and parish renewal events are all over-subscribed. 20,000 joined our last Walk with Christ. Our schools are full. Many parishes reported a surge this past Holy Week. We have faithful and generous pastors and people.
But there is no cause for smugness. In these contradictory times we witness growth and decline at the same time. There is much to do in response to the longings of the People of God for more prayerful liturgies, more Christ-centred communities, more missionary faithful. By listening to each other and especially to the Holy Spirit, thinking and discerning under grace, we can accomplish so much more for God…
From today through to Sunday we will be invited into that same story that Paul told in the synagogue in 47 AD, that Pius told the faithful of besieged Europe in 1571, and that John Bede Polding told the first Synod of Sydney in 1844: the story of God’s faithfulness working through His imperfect instruments—all of us—gifted with opportunities to build His kingdom. Pius V recognised that the chapter entrusted to him could only be written on his knees. And so we too begin our Synod with the greatest prayer: the Mass of Jesus Christ.
[1] Flannery O’Connor, Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose (Macmillan, 1969), p. 96.
[2] Paul (with Barnabas, John Mark and others) in Tarsus: Acts 11:25-26. In Antioch in northern Syria: Acts 11:22,26,27; 13:1. In Cyprus: Acts 13:4-13. In Perga in Pamphylia: Acts 13:13; 14:24. In Pisidian Antioch: Acts 13:14; 14:21. In Iconium: Acts 14:1,21. In Lystra and Derbe in Lycaonia: Acts 14:6-21. In Attalia: Acts 14:25. Back to Antioch: Acts 14:26-28.
[3] David Coonradt, ‘Paul and Barnabas at Pisidian Antioch,’ DriveThruHistory Adventures 2 August 2018.
INTRODUCTION TO THE OPENING MASS OF THE SYNOD OF SYDNEY 2026
Memorial of Saint Pius V, St Mary’s Cathedral, Sydney, 30 April 2026
Welcome dear brothers and sisters to this evening’s Mass to mark the opening of the Synod of Sydney. We gather on the memorial of the sixteenth century Dominican Pope, St Pius V. While 76 of the popes of the first 13 centuries of the papacy are recognised saints, Pius was the only one in the subsequent 600 years! He was renowned for his faithful implementation of the programme of the Council of Trent, renewing the Church’s liturgy, catechesis, priestly training and devotional life.
Concelebrating with me this evening are: Most Rev. Vincent Long Van Nguyen OFM Conv, Bishop of Parramatta, who will accompany us throughout these days as an observer; the Bishop-elect of Rockhampton, Most Rev. Danny Meagher, who has faithfully guided the preparation of this very Synod; Auxiliary Bishops of Sydney Most Rev. Richard Umbers and Tony Percy; Auxiliary Bishop Emeritus Terry Brady; Vicar General Very Rev. Fr Sam Lynch; and Fr John Zhao, a priest observer from China via Brisbane; and many priests of the archdiocese who are members of the synod.
Over the next four days, the Synod members will discern, with prayerful trust in the Holy Spirit and fidelity to Scripture, Tradition and the Magisterium, how we might respond to the three longings that have emerged from a decade and a half of consultations with the faithful: that our liturgies and lives be more prayerful, our parishes and communities more Christ-centred, and our priests and people more missionary. I know that all members of the synod will be take seriously their responsibility in discussing these matters, and be encouraged by knowing that the Church of Sydney and beyond is praying for you throughout these four days that we are gathered, and accompanying you as you share your experience and insights.
We begin, as the Church always must, by acknowledging our dependence on God’s mercy, so as to prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries…
