Scottish Catholic Observer

Recently I watched a documentary on the BBC about the Franciscan Friars of Renewal based in Bradford. It was called From the Bronx to Bradford: Friars on a Mission and it’s brilliant. I highly recommend it. It’s a joyful, hopeful and realistic portrayal of religious life in Britain in 2017 and it’s the best thing I’ve watched in a long time.

All the brothers are fantastic but I was especially moved and encouraged by the gentle witness of Br Joshua (Paul Kidd) from Dundee, whose ­parents I’ve known for a million years—hello, Mike and Helen.

I remember praying for him and his siblings before they were even born. It has always been my tradition that, as soon as I hear someone is pregnant, I start praying for her and her unborn child. It’s the most natural thing to do but it’s funny now to look back on these big grown up and mature people, some with children of their own now, and to think—I’ve been praying for you since you were a child in the womb. The circle of life really is a remarkable thing.

It’s that connection, that recognition of the humanity and dignity of every human being from the moment of ­conception, that I love. The constant and coherent teaching of the Church on the sanctity of human life really is something beautiful, life-giving and life-affirming.

OK, fair enough, I hear you yawn. But what has this got to do with a bunch of hairy friars in ­Bradford? Well, I suppose the answer would be connections and vision.

It occurred to me while watching the programme what a remarkable thing the family of the Church is, something I witness time and time again. I cannot remember a single occasion in many years when I have gone somewhere on my travels, given talks, met other ­­pro-life people or religious and not met someone who knows someone I know.

You know how it goes. “Oh, you’re from Glasgow? My gran was Scottish. She came from Elgin; do you know her?” And the amazing thing is that, more often than not, I do! Or if I don’t know her, the grandchild has told her she was going to a talk by a sister from Scotland and, lo and behold, Elgin granny and I are apparently best friends.

While watching the friars, I thought, I know these guys, I’ve met them at various events over the years and I prayed for young Paul before he was even born—and that for me is a real witness to the family of the Church.

Then there’s vision. I am surrounded by good people doing good things to try and make a difference in the world and in the lives of individuals in need.

I know it’s not only Catholics who do good things, but it is part of our DNA and it’s certainly part of our ­mission as the Church. And there is, or at least there should be, a difference when we as Catholics do any good deed, because we do it in Christ’s name, to bring His love, compassion and healing into the world.

We care because Christ cares; we love because Christ loved. The ­Bradford friars showed that abundantly. They know that what the world needs more than anything else is Christ and they’re rolling up their considerable sleeves and just getting on with it.

That vision and commitment are changing lives on a daily basis and that’s what life is all about: bringing Christ to the world and the world to Christ. So please keep them in your prayers and be inspired by their lives (and the lives of so many other ­inspirational people) to do your bit.

How do you do that? By living your life fully alive, by listening to what God wants for your life and then rolling up your sleeves and just getting on with it—whatever it may be.

It’s easy to think that your little efforts don’t make much of a ­difference but they do; they can make all the difference to someone’s life and to the wider world. Every act of human kindness makes a difference as does every act of human barbarity.

As I write this, the Manchester and London terror attacks are the top news stories and I am overwhelmed by the senseless nature of such vile and ­cowardly assaults on innocent life. What brings someone to such a state where they can justify the taking of human life on such a scale?

They say the Manchester bomber was radicalised. Little by little he was taught to fear, taught to hate; his anger was fired up and his capacity for ­self-delusion made complete. What can we possibly do in response?

Here the vision holds good. Let’s become radicalised ourselves. But instead of creating fear, let us ‘be not afraid’; instead of hating, let us love with every fibre and faculty of our being. Let us overcome our anger with a commitment always and everywhere to be good, kind, true and faithful in all the little and big things in our life.

I am sure the parents, families and friends of all the many victims of the Manchester and London attacks will in time—if not quite yet—receive great consolation and comfort from the small acts of kindness of others.

Love is always stronger than hate. The smallest flicker of light always shines through the darkness and even death has been overcome.