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Good morning. The British Museum in London is hosting an exhibition on the life and after-life of Thomas Becket, the archbishop of Canterbury who was murdered in his cathedral in 1170. Through art and objects we discover how Becket became a super saint, attracting religious tourists from across Europe in search of piety and healing. One glorious stained glass window illustrates the story of a man who was castrated by the authorities for theft: St Thomas supposedly appeared to him in his bedroom and, with a miraculous flourish, restored his stolen goods. The message of the story was that while the state is merciless, the Church forgives. In a conversation with the curators of the exhibition, I pointed out that to a Catholic believer like me, these aren't just historical artefacts, they are sacramental objects of devotion, indeed God is said to grant favours to those who venerate them. I'm not alone in thinking this. The Museum reports finding "kiss like smudges" on some of the glass boxes containing Thomas' bits and bobs - or "relics" to use the proper term. That people feel such a passionate link to the relics of saints in 2021 might surprise some of us: during the English reformation, they were often the target of attack as superstitious nonsense, and Thomas' entire shrine was destroyed. Centuries of scientific progress might seem to lead us away from seeing mystical properties in an object. But, putting aside theology, the kissing of a relic is obviously an attempt to connect to a person one loves and admires. I would argue that this instinct is universal. When a relative dies, many of us will save something they've owned and keep it close, like a hat or a ring, or of course photographs. In my house, there are pictures of people I loved and family members I never even knew - some of them lived two centuries ago. These objects are precious to me; you might almost call them sacred. Just touching them gives me a sense of presence, from which I am invited to draw comfort and historical wisdom. There is certainly a moral purpose to religious veneration. For those who honour him, Thomas stood for religious liberty - and his death, refusing to submit to an authority his conscience would not recognise, is an example to us of how to live. I see relics as a prime example of how religion acts as a metaphor for human desire - in this case, our desire to keep the past close - and as a tangible means of doing it, by giving us a focal point for memory and love.