Homily of Rev Dr Michael Shortall, Interim President of St Patrick’s Pontifical University, Maynooth at the Opening of the academic year mass celebrated in the College Chapel, Maynooth on October 9th.
The Mass was attended by staff and students of St Patrick’s Pontifical University, St Patrick’s National Seminary and Maynooth University.
Opening of the Academic Year Mass – Ask, Search, Knock
Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. (Lk 11:9)
Knock, Knock. Who’s There? Lettuce. Lettuce Who? Lettuce Begin! We all know and love – or love to groan at – the classic ‘Knock, knock joke’.[1] Some historians believe its roots go back to the castles of the Middle Ages. Guards would call out to approaching visitors who would answer back. It even appears in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, first performed in 1606. The gatekeeper of the castle is very hungover from the previous night – the very night that Macbeth killed the king.[2] Hearing banging on the heavy castle gates, he moans to himself: “knock, knock! Whose there?”
The jokes as we have come to know them became popular in the 1930’s and are a firm favourite of children and dads everywhere. Knock, knock. Whose there? Noah. Noah Who? Noah place I can stay for the night?[3] The structure is simple enough. It’s a conversation. On hearing, “Knock, knock”, we know the reply, “Whose there?” Then a name that begs another question seeking more information, before opening out to the punch line or a play on words.
Today’s Gospel asks us to knock. “Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.” I’d like to play with the phrase and suggest that “ask, search, knock” could be a good mantra for the year ahead. Think of it this way. Asking is where all learning begins: with a good question. Searching is the patient work of inquiry: research, reading, puzzling, debating, sometimes going down blind alleys. And knocking is the moment of boldness: when we bring our questions to others – to a professor, a colleague, in an essay or an article – and wait to see what might open. Knowledge doesn’t fall into our laps. It’s pursued with curiosity, persistence, and humility. And just as in the parable, the door doesn’t always open on the first knock. Ideas can be difficult. Arguments clash. Sometimes the professor’s door is literally closed. But those who keep knocking – who stay in the conversation – often discover gifts they never expected.
All genuine learning is never just an achievement. At the heart of all discovery is a spark of wonder – an openness to something greater than ourselves. It is a response to a generosity that comes before us. Knowledge invites us forward, it beckons – because through it, God is drawing us in to his mystery. Every honest question, every disciplined search, every courageous knock is, at its best, a participation in God’s own desire to make himself known.
The contrast is making assumptions. The prophet Malachi warns against the arrogance of those who think they already know everything already. It’s a good warning for our time too. In a world noisy with easy answers, fuelled by cynicism, misinformation, and fear, wonder is easily drowned out. Cleverness can slide into cynicism; confidence can harden into complacency.
May this academic year invite each of us – student, lecturer, or staff member – to ask, search and knock. The world badly needs people who keep asking honest questions, searching diligently, and knocking with wonder on closed doors. Not every door will open easily—but the Spirit leads those who persevere deeper into truth, and through them, light reaches places grown dark.
One last one: Knock, Knock. Who’s there? Police. Police who? Police stop telling awful knock, knock jokes![4]
[2] Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 2 Sc 3.
[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knock-knock_joke
[4] Did you hear about the woman who invented the knock knock joke? She won the No-bell prize.
