Over recent weeks, I have been reflecting on the life of our diocese: the way we pray, the support we offer one another, the faith of our young people, and the ongoing formation of our priests.

Recently we had Fr Paul Turner, a liturgist from the United States, run some workshops for the clergy and lay people. One thing Fr Paul said that struck me was that, if we want to understand what Catholics believe, we should look at how they pray. The connection between our prayer, our liturgy, and our belief is not peripheral; it is right at the heart of who we are. That helps explain why we take the liturgy so personally, and why posture and the details of our celebration matter so much.

Liturgy, like music, can really excite the passions. Fr Paul was a wonderful teacher because he explained not only the requirements and instructions of the Mass, but also the spirit behind them, their history, and their connection with Scripture. He broadened the conversation beautifully.

In relation to questions about kneeling or standing, Fr Paul said that unity does have a price. He understands the reasons for standing, but he is also clear about what the Church asks of us and the importance of maintaining unity. That is not always an easy balance, but it is an important one.

He also admired the spirit among the priests of this diocese. During hospitality, people simply sat where there was a seat and spent time with one another. There was no factionalism. There was a good spirit, and people were prepared to support each other. I took that as a real compliment.

The death of my mother (who died on 9 July) has been very significant for me. She was 88, almost 89, and I miss her deeply. Recently I had the strongest instinct to phone her about something, and then remembered she is not there anymore. That is a real gap.

At her funeral, I was deeply moved by the support shown. A brother priest flew from Australia to play the organ; many priests from across New Zealand were present; and nearly all the bishops were able to come. The messages and support I received from people were very consoling.

That kind of support matters particularly for a priest, because we do not have family in the ordinary sense. I do not say that as a complaint, but it is true that a priest’s life and vocation are deeply intertwined. In a mysterious way, my mother’s death has made me feel even more invested in my life here, and I hope it will free me to give more fully to the diocese.

Mum’s own story was shaped by faith. She entered religious life after school and spent five years as a sister, though she did not make final vows. Later she met my father in Wellington. He came from a poor, non-Catholic family of 13, left school at 12, shined shoes on Courtenay Place, and became an excellent snooker player, even playing for New Zealand.

When Mum came to the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit here in Palmerston North, it seemed to make sense to her that I had become a bishop here. It was almost a resolution, because not continuing in religious life had always saddened her. She was bold in the best sense: not afraid of priests or bishops, and always prepared to say what she believed was right.

This weekend just gone we hosted the Youth Fest at St Peter’s College which I attended, along with around 150 young people. Those are fantastic numbers and a real sign of hope.

Around the world, young people seem to be coming back on board with the Church. Many are interested again in the mystery, beauty, and stability of Catholic faith and worship. My hunch is that, in a world that often lacks meaning and purpose, they are looking for a safe harbour and for a life-giving, stable philosophy of life.

The theme I wanted to offer them was freedom. Unbounded freedom does not do us any favours. There is a kind of freedom in going up to a piano and pressing any key we like; we will get a noise. But if we submit ourselves to practice, theory, scales, cadences, and the rules of music, we can begin truly to play. Once we are good enough, we can play anything: the Beatles, Beethoven, hip hop, or whatever it may be.

That is a deeper and more beautiful freedom. It comes when we freely embrace the discipline that allows something greater to emerge. I wanted to impress on our young people the beauty of that freedom, and the beauty of the freedom faith can offer.

Finally, I would like to give advance notice of an area where I believe we need to do more: priestly formation, not simply in terms of what priests do, but who they are. It is about the identity of priesthood.

At the end of January 2027, four North American priest formators will join us for what we are calling a priestly convocation. It will focus on priestly identity – who priests are, not simply their skills or gifts, which are there for everyone to see. Priests do not tend to do much sustained work on that after seminary, and I think it deserves proper attention.

I am excited that priests from across the country will be involved. There has also been interest from Australia, and even the Apostolic Nuncio has said he would like to come for part of it. My hope is that, as our identity becomes clearer, we will have a firmer base from which to become more missionary.

+ John.

More information on the priestly convocation can be found here: A Priestly Renewal Convocation — January 2027