There is a quiet dignity in the priest who walks into a hospital room, a prison cell, a battlefield, or a family kitchen—not to preach, but to be present. Not to solve, but to accompany. Not to impose, but to listen. This is chaplaincy, and it is not a specialisation reserved for a few. It is the very heart of the priesthood. The priest is not first a manager of sacraments or a guardian of doctrine, but a bearer of presence—a living icon of Christ who dwells among the wounded, the weary, and the waiting. In this light, chaplaincy is not a branch of ministry; it is the trunk. It is the core vocation of every priest, whether he serves in a parish, a cathedral, a school, or a monastery.

The discipline of mandatory priestly celibacy in the Latin Church, long upheld as a sign of spiritual dedication and pastoral availability, has come under increasing scrutiny in recent decades. While Sacerdotalis Caelibatus (Paul VI, 1967) remains the most authoritative magisterial defence of this practice, its arguments—though elegant and sincere—must be re-evaluated in light of apostolic precedent, theological anthropology, psychological insight, and the lived experience of clergy and laity alike over the last 58 years.

There are moments in history when the moral compass of a nation spins so wildly that silence becomes complicity. Today, the United Kingdom teeters on such a precipice. The recent proposals by Reform UK—led by Nigel Farage—to retroactively abolish settled status for millions of lawful residents, including over three million EU citizens, mark not merely a political shift but a spiritual and moral collapse. It is a descent into cruelty, arrogance, and betrayal. And it demands a prophetic response.

Today, we are confronted with one of the most perplexing and provocative parables in all of Scripture. Jesus tells us of a steward—a man entrusted with the administration of his master’s goods—who is reported for squandering what was not his. He is summoned, confronted, and dismissed. And in the face of his impending unemployment, he devises a plan. He calls in his master’s debtors and reduces their debts. He rewrites the promissory notes. He remits what is owed. And then, in a twist that unsettles our moral instincts, the master commends him—not for his honesty, but for his prudence.

What are we to make of this?

There comes a time when silence is not prudence but betrayal. When prayer, unattended by action, becomes a mockery of the God who hears the cry of the oppressed. When the Church, called to be the Body of Christ in the world, becomes instead a mausoleum of pious intentions and ornamental liturgies, while the world burns in the furnace of authoritarianism, fascism, and the calculated erosion of human dignity.

On the afternoon of 10 September 2025, conservative commentator Charlie Kirk stood before a packed auditorium at Utah Valley University. Known for his combative style and unapologetic rhetoric, Kirk was in the midst of a public Q&A session when a young man posed two pointed questions. Moments later, Kirk was fatally shot by a sniper.

The Canons Regular of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (CRSHJ), in fidelity to the Church’s living tradition and its apostolic mission of radical inclusivity, have formally tabled a review of the question of the Women’s Diaconate for the years 2035–2036. This decision, reached through prayerful consultation and theological reflection, marks a significant moment in the Institute’s journey toward a more expansive understanding of ecclesial service. Read further…

Few figures in Christian history evoke as much admiration—and ambivalence—as St Paul. Heralded as the Apostle to the Gentiles, architect of early Christian theology, and tireless missionary, Paul’s legacy is monumental. Yet from the very beginning, his apostleship was met with hesitation, and even today, some believers instinctively hold his ministry at arm’s length. Why?

In an age of rapid cultural transformation, the Canons Regular of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (CRSHJ) stand with clarity and compassion in reaffirming a teaching that has shaped the sacramental life of the Church from apostolic times: that priestly ordination is reserved to men. This position, far from being an isolated Roman Catholic stance, is shared by the Eastern Catholic Churches, the Orthodox Churches, and many other apostolic communities across East and West.

This article offers a theological and pastoral reflection on why the CRSHJ uphold this teaching—not as a rejection of women’s dignity, but as a fidelity to Christ’s sacramental logic and the ecclesial tradition entrusted to us.

In Old Catholic and Independent Catholic circles, where diversity of expression is often celebrated, the question of clerical attire—both liturgical and daily—deserves renewed attention. Beauty and even richness in clerical attire or liturgical vestments are not inherently vain. But when beauty becomes a mask for ego, the witness of the priest is compromised. This reflection seeks to reclaim the theological and pastoral heart of clerical dress: that it may veil the self and reveal the Saviour.

In the ever-evolving landscape of Christianity, few movements are as quietly resilient and theologically rich as Independent Catholicism. Often misunderstood or overlooked, this diverse constellation of communities offers a compelling witness to sacramental life, apostolic succession, and pastoral inclusivity—outside the jurisdiction of Rome. Among its many expressions, the Old Catholic tradition stands out for its historical depth, theological integrity, and enduring commitment to the faith of the early Church.

The One Catholic Church, entrusted with the deposit of faith and the care of souls, finds herself increasingly called to navigate complex interreligious grounds. Among these, the relationship between Christianity and Islam demands particular attention—not solely for its theological implications, but for the pastoral and cultural challenges it presents to Christian communities across the World.

today we stand in the company of one who thundered across Galilee with a heart aflame and finished his journey as the first among the Apostles to lay down his life in martyrdom: St James the Greater, son of Zebedee, brother of John, and beloved companion of Christ.

With the Feast of the Transfiguration quickly approaching on the 6th of August 2025, the Church draws us upward to the mountaintop, where the glory of the Lord breaks through veil and shadow. It is a feast of light, not the gentle shimmer of dawn but the blazing brilliance of unveiled divinity.

Theology, in its broadest sense, is the study of God, creation, and the divine-human relationship. Yet within this vast domain, distinct branches emerge—each offering a particular lens through which the mystery of faith is explored and articulated. These theological disciplines have developed over centuries through dialogue, reflection, scripture, and lived experience. What follows is a guided introduction to nine key branches, each bearing its own insights, questions, and contributions to the Church’s understanding of divine truth.

Christianity promises the radical love of Christ to every human being. Yet many churches perpetuate condemnation toward lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) individuals—turning a blind eye to what both science and a Christ-centred theology reveal: that sexual orientation is not a moral fault, cultural rebellion, or choice. It is a biologically shaped aspect of human identity, deeply interwoven with how a person is formed in the womb and matures across life.

In the half-century since Pope Paul VI issued Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, its portrait of priestly celibacy as a “brilliant jewel” has defined the Latin Church’s discipline without ever quite grappling with the complexities beneath the surface. Written as the Second Vatican Council’s fresh winds still blew through ecclesial corridors, the encyclical cast celibacy in exalted, almost mystical terms: a definitive sign of a priest’s total self-gift, a foretaste of heavenly communion and a service rendered unencumbered by earthly ties.