Chalice

Pastor’s Epistle—February 2026

In the nineteenth century, two young Irish lads digging in a potato field discovered, beneath a slab of stone, literal buried treasure from over a thousand years before. This remarkable collection became known as the Ardagh Hoard, currently on display at the National Museum of Ireland in Dublin. And the most famous piece of the hoard remains the Ardagh Chalice.

The chalice is a large, two-handed Eucharistic cup, crafted of beaten silver with decorations of gold, bronze, brass, pewter, and enamel; composed of over 350 pieces, all told. While fashioned in a late Roman style, its construction proves unmistakably Irish. Remarkably, its most striking feature—a prominent polished crystal surrounded by a gilt disc and blue jewels—lies hidden away on the chalice’s underside, beneath the foot, such that only the priest elevating the cup during the Divine Liturgy would see it.

I take this as a reminder, not to the congregation but to the officiant, of the true concealed treasure of the chalice: the Blood of Jesus Christ. The presider receives but a glimpse, perhaps a warning, of the infinite beauty within, and only when elevating the cup of Christ heavenward.

Indeed, one of the defining features of a Eucharistic chalice tends to be a gold lining on the inner surface. If a wealthy man hired a goldsmith to decorate a drinking vessel for secular use, he would naturally want the gold displayed on the outside of the cup. But Eucharistic chalices are typically far plainer without than within. That gold lining draws both eye and heart to the Mystery of Christ, to the holy Sacrament.

Remember whom you serve, the chalice chides. Remember whom I hold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

The chalice I use at St Peter’s has a tiny Celtic Cross embossed on the foot, far too small for the congregation to see. It’s just for me, for the celebrant: a reminder, and a warning, to focus on Christ and Him crucified. Forgive me if it sounds a smidge superstitious, but for nearly 20 years I have found that so long as I keep my eyes on that tiny cross, I neither forget nor stumble over the Words of Institution.

Every time I raise it, I think of the Ardagh Chalice. I think of the treasure offered herein: the living Lord truly present in, with, and under the bread and the wine. And I recall that the promises spoken to the people come not from me, sinner that I am—for what are my promises worth?—but from the living Lord who forever offers up His life for the salvation of the world.

All of that, hidden in a chalice. Infinity concealed in a cup. Poured out now for you.

In Jesus. Amen.