Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, dear friends,

Dear Bishop John and Bishop Terry,

I suspect that neither of you would have readily chosen that first reading from the Book of Sirach, which is assigned to today’s feast of Saints Joachim and Anne. In my experience, priests do not usually like to put themselves forward as beacons of virtue, though we have all known many who are.

There is so much in a priest that is never seen—a deep seam running throughout his life that remains hidden, yet serves as a constant inspiration, encouragement, and daily challenge. As the prophet Jeremiah says, “There is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, for I cannot contain it.”

And yet, these readings are most fitting as we celebrate 60 years of priesthood for Bishop John in Westminster, and 50 years for Bishop Terry in Salford. Both were later called to serve beyond their home dioceses as missionaries before being appointed chief pastors of the Diocese of Middlesbrough. Though separated by ten years of service, they are deeply united in their vocation. They were called to be stewards of the mysteries of God, to care for His people, and—as today’s reading from Sirach reminds us—to be men of mercy, whose deeds are not forgotten and whose legacy endures.

All of us here today give testimony to that. These readings take on even more meaning in the context of our celebration of thanksgiving for their priestly anniversaries. As Bishop Terry noted, this feast is also dedicated to grandparents—a fact that makes our two jubilarians eligible in more ways than one!

Pope Leo, in a letter specially written for this day, reminds us that this Jubilee year helps us see that hope is a constant source of joy, whatever our age. When hope has been tempered by fire across the years, it becomes a deep well of happiness. In Scripture, God often entrusts great missions to those in their later years—Abraham and Sarah, Zechariah and Elizabeth, even Moses, who was eighty when called to lead his people to freedom.

So, my dear brothers, your service has not yet come to an end. A priest is never truly retired, as we witness through the faithful testimony of so many retired clergy who continue to serve with quiet dedication.

Our readings offer many insights. Both reflect on wisdom, each from a different angle, but both point to one truth: those who listen to God’s word and allow Him to be both the beginning and the end of their decisions find direction and joy. Only God can satisfy the restlessness of the human heart, and only He can bring healing in our struggles.

God has revealed Himself as Wisdom, and that Wisdom is not shaped by passing convenience or personal comfort. As Solomon writes, “Even if one is perfect among the sons of men, yet without the wisdom that comes from God, he will be regarded as nothing.”

The readings from Sirach and the Gospel of Matthew call us to honour and respect the wisdom of our elders—those who have heard, seen, responded, and followed what is wise. The Bible does not engage in the modern rejection of the past. God is Lord of time, and His presence lights the way forward. As Pope Francis once said, “All of us have a past, but with God, we also have a bright future.”

The Book of Sirach was not written by Sirach himself but by his grandson, who recognised the wisdom of his grandfather and wished to preserve it. Behind that wisdom lay the influence of the high priest Simon, who lived in the second century before Christ. He is remembered as one who, in his life, “repaired the house”—the temple of Jerusalem.

What greater tribute could be paid to any priest than this: that in his life, he repaired the house of God—not just the physical structure, but the living stones, the Church, God’s holy people.

The Gospel takes a more challenging approach. It questions whether we simply hear or truly listen, whether we merely look or actually see. Each of us longs for the infinite. But where do we look, and to which voice do we listen? Do we see with our eyes only, or also with our hearts and souls?

Jesus says, “Many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see and never saw it; to hear what you hear and did not hear it.”

Our jubilarians—and every priest—have heard that inner voice calling: “Follow me.” To the question, “Where do you live, Lord?” the answer remains, “Come and see.” This call is renewed daily.

Pope Leo, at a recent ordination, asked the new priests: “How do you explain arriving at this moment?” And he answered for them: “You listened.” As the Lord says, “My sheep listen to my voice.”

God does not take back His word. But He gives us the freedom to choose—to follow Him or go another way. This choice runs through the whole of Scripture. Not everyone found it easy. The journey from Egypt to the Promised Land took 40 years.

God’s patience is always greater than our delays. As Moses said to the people: “I set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life.”

The crown of priesthood is not in achievements, but in faithfulness to that choice. That is the true measure of a priest’s life, with all its struggles, moments of joy, and privileged encounters with the people of God. What makes a difference is the choice to say yes—again and again—to God’s call.

Jesus says, “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” That choice is a mystery, but one that demands a response. The Greek and Hebrew words for “choose” both carry the same weight: God’s choice comes before we are even formed in the womb.

Your destiny and identity, dear brothers, were written on your souls. We have witnessed the unfolding of that mystery for 50 and 60 years. Your yes was God’s yes. Through you, He has touched lives.

And so, today, we promise to pray for vocations—not only in thanksgiving for your years of priesthood, but also for those who may be called and are unsure how to respond.

Despite our shortcomings, God still calls us to act in the person of His Son, making Him present through word and sacrament. The wisdom our jubilarians have chosen, the sacrifices they have made, the sacraments they have celebrated, the encouragement they have given, the compassion and kindness they have shown—all of this has drawn people closer to God.

You may say, “We are unprofitable servants.” But we say something more: you are the ones who, in your life, repaired the house.

Yours is a testimony that will not be lost. Blessed are those whose ears have heard, whose eyes have seen, and who have kept saying yes every day since ordination.

This is the gift we celebrate today. We thank God for giving you to us, and we thank you for remaining with us as His faithful servants. You now stand among those who, in this part of the world, have borne witness to God’s mercy and goodness.

And for that, we thank you with all our hearts.