God & I: Dr. Nicola Brady

DR. BRADY, please tell us about your religious upbringing?

I’m from Newry, a town on the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. My early religious formation was shaped by my family, particularly my grandparents. There was a strong connection between family, parish, and school. I attended Catholic primary and secondary schools in a predominantly Catholic area. Faith was part of daily life and shaped our identity and values. This was before the Good Friday Agreement, during a time of conflict in Northern Ireland. We had to grapple with living our Christian values in a society marked by fear and division. Bomb scares were common, military checkpoints routine, and daily life was conditioned by the threat of violence. From an early age I experienced faith not just in church, but amid real challenges.

Was there someone who had a strong influence on your Catholic formation?

My grandparents. Recently at Mass the priest emphasized mission and evangelization by quoting from Luke’s Gospel. The choir was absent that day, so the priest sang the hymns himself. Two of them were ones my grandmother used to sing. Her singing was a reminder of God’s love and mercy, and it shaped our home’s atmosphere. We spent a lot of time at their house. The radio was usually on in the kitchen, broadcasting news of the violence. My grandparents didn’t shield us, but used those moments to talk. I’d often be in the fields in my grandfather’s farm. He loved talking about history and politics through the lens of faith. His values were grounded in a deep Christian worldview, which left a lasting impression. Looking back, they gave us an incredible gift – a living example of faith in action. Their lives showed that evangelization isn’t about grand gestures, but small, faithful acts lived out with love.

You undertook European Studies and later completed a PhD on how the Church responded to political violence. What drew you to these subjects?

I was drawn to European Studies due to a fascination with language and cross‑cultural connection. Growing up in a divided society, I wanted to understand both conflict and possibilities for unity. The European Union, as a peace project, inspired me – Northern Ireland’s peace process showed how international cooperation can aid healing.

I spent a year on Erasmus at the University of Pavia in Italy. Living abroad gave me perspective: feeling like an outsider yet finding belonging through faith. Attending Mass felt grounding. It revealed faith’s power to express identity and foster connection.

That led me to explore religion’s dual potential to divide or unite. I studied Saint John Paul II’s global impact, particularly his 1979 visit to Ireland, which deeply resonated – so much so that many boys my age were named after him. Meanwhile, witnessing ongoing violence prompted me to examine how religious leaders respond when faith clashes with harsh realities. That tension became central to both my academic research and vocation.

You’ve been very involved in peace and reconciliation work in Ireland and internationally. What common challenges have you observed in helping communities heal after conflict?

From peacebuilders in Bosnia, Ukraine, Colombia, Liberia, Sri Lanka, I’ve seen a shared problem: the rush to rebuild – jobs, infrastructure – while emotional wounds such as grief, trauma, and broken trust go unaddressed. True reconciliation requires time to hear stories of pain. In many contexts, the Church has simply sat with communities – listening and bearing witness – as a first step toward healing.

It also demands humility: leaders acknowledging their own loss, doubt, or complicity, not positioning themselves as detached outsiders, but sharing in the pain and repair. When that happens, the Church can become a trusted space for imagining a different future. And that’s where hope begins – through courageous, honest conversations about peace.

In 2019, you were an Eisenhower Fellow and spent time in the US exploring issues like race and social division. What lessons did you take away from that experience?

The focus of my fellowship was on ‘collective impact’ – the idea that major social challenges, like educational inequality, can’t be solved by one sector alone. You need a coalition: education, government, faith communities, health, businesses – all working together. Educational disadvantage isn’t just a school issue. It involves poverty, family support, jobs and social exclusion.

In the US, I explored how communities face shared challenges and how faith sectors can help – especially through dialogue. Communities with experience in interreligious work have tools for helping people navigate differences respectfully. They build trust, understanding and shared purpose. When people listen to each other, they often discover shared concerns. Trust builds with time and repeated encounters; that trust is essential for resilience and preventing conflict.

Do you see any similarities between the divisions you observed in the US and those in Ireland?

Yes. In the southern US I saw how racial segregation persists in housing, education and services despite legal gains. It reminded me of Northern Ireland. Over 25 years after the Good Friday Agreement, communities remain divided. “Peace walls” still separate neighborhoods, and daily life is shaped by those divides. It reminded me of something Irish Church leaders said in a public statement on the Brexit negotiations: “The best laws and agreements are only as good as the relationships that sustain them.” That applies equally in the US and Ireland. Legal equality isn’t the same as social unity. Faith communities must challenge the idea that the work is done once laws are passed.

What are some common misunderstandings about ecumenical work?

Many people hesitate to engage in ecumenism due to misconceptions. One is the belief that it means erasing differences – that everyone must worship the same way or share identical beliefs. In fact, ecumenism celebrates diversity. It invites us to share what’s meaningful in our traditions, listen deeply, and explore how we can witness to Christ together.

Another misunderstanding is that we can’t engage on moral or ethical issues because of disagreements. People fear having to water down their views. But true ecumenical dialogue respects differences and creates space for honest conversation. We can express hopes and fears, challenge each other constructively, and often find strong consensus that leads to shared action.

Some also think ecumenism distracts from mission, especially with limited resources. But it actually strengthens evangelization, youth work, and pastoral care. We learn from each other, share resources, and avoid duplication. It deepens our witness and helps us connect with those who feel distant from Church life.

Christian unity isn’t a luxury – it’s central to our calling, a sign of Christ’s love in a divided world.

Can you share an experience where you witnessed real unity between different Churches?

People initially wary of ecumenism form friendships and gain deeper understanding. For example, some Protestants who doubt that Catholics can be considered truly Christian, through dialogue come to appreciate their faith.

A powerful example came during Brexit. When Northern Ireland’s government collapsed in 2018, Church leaders united to support peace. They invited political parties to reflect together, and despite tensions, all attended. It allowed leaders to be seen beyond political roles.

This led to four regional dialogues and a joint report in 2019: A Time for Courageous and Compassionate Leadership. It was a moment when Churches offered unified leadership for peace – something no single denomination could have done alone. Their unity made it possible.

How do you approach theological differences in ecumenical settings?

The starting point is always relationship. Creating spaces where genuine friendships lay the foundation for honest dialogue – even on difficult issues.

Intentionality is key. In Ireland, ecumenical bodies agreed on a mission statement: Churches in Ireland – Connecting in Christ. Christ is the center and point of connection. From that shared center, we can acknowledge differences – worship, belief or structure – without fear.

Transparency about dialogue’s purpose is vital. There’s no hidden agenda or push toward a “lowest common denominator.” That clarity allows respectful, authentic engagement.

Trust develops gradually, so regular, sustained encounters matter. Rotating worship styles at meetings to reflect different traditions deepened understanding – even if not everyone fully participated.

Is there a particular image or understanding of God that supports you in your daily work and prayer?

Currently, there’s a statue of the Sacred Heart traveling through Ireland’s dioceses to encourage prayerful contemplation. It’s in our parish now, and I spent time praying with it recently.

For me, the Sacred Heart evokes the Church as a wounded healer. It represents compassion, love, and mercy – but also Christ’s wounds on the cross. This image reflects the Church’s role in divided or broken societies. By showing our wounds and vulnerability, we participate in healing. It also calls each of us to be peacemakers.

As the former chair of the Synodal Pathway Steering Committee in Ireland, what does synodality mean to you personally?

To me, synodality is about hope and healing. As chair, I witnessed this in communities across the country. People responded to the invitation to participate in synodal conversations, even if they didn’t fully understand it or were skeptical. But the connections formed in those conversations were moving. The synodal process has been a profound gift to the Church in Ireland – a Church still bearing wounds from the abuse crisis.

Have St. Francis and St. Anthony influenced your faith?

Saint Francis has been a powerful influence in two ways. First, his vision of reconciliation – a call to be reconciled with God, with others and all creation.

Second, the peace prayer of Saint Francis often guides me. It begins, “Lord, make me a channel of your peace” – not my peace, but your peace. It reminds us that Christ promises a peace beyond human understanding.

Saint Anthony has also been significant to me. Growing up attending Catholic primary school, he was introduced as a saint to turn to in times of trouble. For me, he represents the deep link between faith and family.

BORN IN Newry in Northern Ireland, Nicola Brady is the General Secretary for Churches Together in Britain and Ireland. She was formerly chair of the Steering Committee for the Synodal Pathway of the Catholic Church in Ireland.

Brady has particular experience in the area of faith-based peace-building in Ireland and internationally, including human rights advocacy. She has served as vice chair of the Board of the Christian Aid Ireland and is a board member of the Maximilian Kolbe Foundation, which works to extend the lessons of German-Polish reconciliation post-World War II to other conflict areas.

Nicola Brady has a BA in European Studies from Trinity College Dublin. Her Ph.D., also from Trinity College, examines the response of the Catholic hierarchy to political violence in Northern Ireland (1921-1973) and the Basque Country (1936-1975).